Imprimatur,  
November 20. 1663. WILLIAM MORICE.   

A General Collection OF DISCOURSES OF THE Virtuosos of France, Upon Questions of all Sorts of PHILOSOPHY, AND OTHER Natural Knowledge.  
Made in the Assembly of the Beaux Esprits at Paris, by the most Ingenious Persons of that Nation.  
Rendered into English by G. haver's, Gent.  
LONDON,, Printed for Thomas Dring and John Starkey, and are to be sold at their Shops, at the George in Fleetstreet near Clifford's-Inn, and the Mitre between the Middle-Temple-Gate and Temple-Bar. 1664.   

To the Honourable ANCHITELL GREY, Esq  
IF it be compliance with Custom that induces me to a Dedication of the ensuing Discourse, 'tis obedience to Reason that moves me to inscribe them to your Honourable Name. They are the ingenious Productions of the most accomplished Gentlemen of our Neighbour-Nation, and so could not be more fitly presented then to One of our Own, who to the advantages of a most Illustrious Descent, hath conjoined whatever is particularly excellent in Many. That celebrated Aphorism of Plato, which pronounceth Felicity to that State wherein either the Philosophers are of chief dignity, or those of chief dignity are Philosophers, holds no less true in the Commonwealth of Learning then in Political Governments. Arts and Sciences, when cultivated by Persons of quality, not only derive lustre from the rank of their Professors, but acquire enlargement of Territory by their Conduct: Heroic souls disdaining the enslaving formalities practised hitherto by the Sovereigns of the Schools, and by the restauration of Freedom, laying open the way to Conquest. I shall not undertake to determine whether the restitution of Philosophical Liberty began first by the French, or by some great Personages of our own, particularly the renowned Lord Bacon (from whom 'tis said, not improbably, their Des-Cartes took the grounds of his new Theory) but 'tis certain that his way of Experiment, as now prosecuted by sundry English Gentlemen, affords more probabilities of glorious and profitable Fruits, than the attempts of any other Age or Nation whatsoever. But as it would be a fault in me to insist upon Comparisons, so it will be an injury in such as shall think you, Sir, any way concerned in these Discourses, either upon the account of their Matter or Translation. 'Tis true, they are extremely well fitted both for Instruction and Pleasure, they handle weighty Questions with great facility; and what would be a load in the ordinary modes of Writing thereupon, is here as fully and substantially delivered, and yet with exceeding Elegancy and perspicuity; but however commendable in themselves, 'twere criminal to think that you need them; but, on the contrary, I well understood that the Book needed you; and therefore I must humbly beg your pardon, if I have herein been too forward for its Interest by this Dedication, as also for my own in taking upon me so publicly the quality of,  
Sir, Your most humble and obedient Servant, G. haver's.   

The Publisher of the Ensuing Conferences,  
THinks it his Duty to advertise the Ingenious Readers, I. That they are the Productions of an Assembly of the Choicest Wits in France, whose design it was to rescue the Liberal Sciences from the bondage of Scholastical Obscurities, and to render Things intelligible without obliging the studious to the unpleasing and perpetual Task of first surmounting the difficulties of Exotic Words. To which purpose they judged fit to establish this as a principal Law of their Discourses, That only the French Language should be used therein, in order to cultivate and improve the same; and this, in imitation of the Greeks and Romans, whose writings are abundant evidences of the same Practice. II. That amongst the Arguments for the several Opinions upon each Question, it was thought fit to wave the alleging of Authorities, except upon some very special occasion. It being observed, that the heaping Testimonies together serves commonly for Ostentation rather than Strength; and, (to omit the consideration of Brevity) if any man speaks Reason, it ought to suffice without another's Authority to recommend it. Besides, that Nothing hath been found more prejudicial to the Improvement of Philosophy, than the attributing too much to the Magisterial Sayings of an Author of Great Name. In which regard likewise, these Virtuosos have acted with no less Prudence than Modesty, in leaving the Determination of each Question to the judgement of the Reader, who is made the Arbiter of the Dispute, and may, in the grateful Variety of Opinions, freely give his suffrage to That which shall seem to him founded upon the most convincing Reasons; or else having them all before him, establish a better of his own. III. That these Gentlemen, leaving the way of arguing by Mode and Figure to Colleges, have chosen to propose their sense in the freest and most natural form of Speech, as being most suitable to Conferences, and less subject either to the captious fallacies, or pedantical janglings and heats, resulting from Disputes by Syllogism. To avoid which also the better, care was taken that every one might have this Persuasion, That he was no-wise interessed to maintain his Sentence upon any Point; but being once produced, it was as a thing exposed to the company, and no more accounted any man's Property, than Truth itself, the common subject of all their Inquiries. IV. That, as to the Promiscuous Variety of the Questions discussed in each Conference, and the immethodical series of them all, if it be not excuse enough that the Discoursers were French Gentlemen, and besides, willing in civility to gratify one another by leaving the choice of Subjects free, the Reader is desired to believe, that there wanted not particular occasions for every one, though they appear not upon the paper. Besides, that it seemed most expedient not to be confined to the Laws of Method, since the Compliance therewith in comprising the Sciences in Systems and Bodies, (as they call them) would have required the intermixture of many Questions less considerable and delightful; and indeed is found by Judicious Men to have been a great Obstacle to the Improvement of Philosophy. V. Last, The Publisher craves Pardon of the Readers that he hath forborn to divulge the Names of the Persons of Honour, who held these Conferences weekly on Mondays at Paris, it being the principal condition which they required of him; Some, that the judgement of their opinions might be left free to every one, which the knowledge of the Authors commonly prepossesses; and Others, out of desire secretly to discover what Sentiment the public would have of theirs (like the Knights Errand of old, who sought under borrowed Arms) leaving their Names to be conjectured by such as found any thing in them for which to desire it: but All, through a Modesty as commendable in respect of themselves, as injurious to the Public.  
EUSEBIUS RENAUDOT, Counsellor and Physician in Ordinary to the King of France, Doctor Regent of the Faculty of Physic at Paris.   

THE CONTENTS.  

CONFERENCE I. I. OF Method. II. Of Entity. Page 1  
CONFERENCE II. I. Of Principles. II. Of the End of all Things. Page 5  
CONFERENCE III I. Of Causes in general. II. Whence it is that every one is zealous for his own Opinion, though it be of no importance to him. Page 12  
CONFERENCE IV I. Of the First Matter. II. Of Perpetual Motion. Page 18  
CONFERENCE V I. Of Resemblance. II. Whether it behoveth to join Arms to Letters. Page 24  
CONFERENCE VI I. Of Fire. II. Of the Universal Spirit. Page 31  
CONFERENCE VII I. Of the Air. II. Whether it be best for a State to have Slaves. Page 38  
CONFERENCE VIII I. Of Water. II. Of Wine, and whether it be necessary for Soldiers. Page 44  
CONFERENCE IX I. Of the Earth. II. What it is that makes a Man wise. Page 51  
CONFERENCE X I. Of the Motion, or Rest of the Earth. II. Of two Monstrous Brethren, living in the same Body, which are to be seen in this City. Page 57  
CONFERENCE XI I. Of the little Hairy Girl lately seen in this City. II. Whether it is more easy to resist Pleasure then Pain. Page 64  
CONFERENCE XII I. Of three Suns. II. Whether an Affection can be without Interest. Page 71  
CONFERENCE XIII I. Whether Melancholy Persons are the most ingenious or prudent. II. Which is most necessary in a State, Reward or Punishment. Page 77  
CONFERENCE XIV I. Of the Seat of Folly. II. Whether a Man or Woman be most inclined to Love. Page 83  
CONFERENCE XV I. How long a Man may continue without eating. II. Of the Echo. Page 89  
CONFERENCE XVI I. How Spirits act upon Bodies. II. Whether is more powerful Love or Hatred. Page 95  
CONFERENCE XVII I. Of the several fashions of wearing Mourning, and why Black is used to that purpose rather than any other colour. II. Why people are pleased with Music. Page 103  
CONFERENCE XVIII I. Of the Original of Winds. II. Why none are contented with their Condition. Page 109  
CONFERENCE XIX I. Of the Flowing and Ebbing of the Sea. II. Of the Point of Honour. Page 115  
CONFERENCE XX I. Of the Original of Fountains. II. Whether there be a commendable Ambition. Page 121  
CONFERENCE XXI I. Of Dreams. II. Why Men are rather inclined to Vice then Virtue. Page 127  
CONFERENCE XXII I. Of Judiciary Astrology. II. Which is least unblamable, Covetousness or Prodigality. Page 133  
CONFERENCE XXIII I. Of Physiognomy. II. Of Artificial Memory. Page 139  
CONFERENCE XXIV I. Which of the Five Senses is the most noble. II. Of Laughter. Page 144  
CONFERENCE XXV I. Of the Diversity of Countenances. II. Whether Man or Woman be the more noble. Page 150  
CONFERENCE XXVI I. Whether it be lawful for one to commend himself. II. Of Beauty. Page 157  
CONFERENCE XXVII I. Whether the World grows old. II. Of Jealousy. Page 163  
CONFERENCE XXVIII I. What is the greatest Delight of Man. II. Of Cuckoldry. Page 169  
CONFERENCE XXIX I. Whence the saltness of the Sea proceeds. II. Which is the best Food, Flesh or Fish. Page 174  
CONFERENCE XXX I. Of the Terrestrial Paradise. II. Of Embalmings and Mummies. Page 180  
CONFERENCE XXXI I. Whether the Life of Man may be prolonged by Art. II. Whether 'tis better to be without Passions then to moderate them. Page 185  
CONFERENCE XXXII I. Sympathy and Antipathy. II. Whether Love descending is stronger than ascending. Page 191  
CONFERENCE XXXIII I. Of those that walk in their sleep. II. Which is the most excellent Moral Virtue. Page 197  
CONFERENCE XXXIV I. Of Lycanthropy. II. Of the way to acquire Nobility. Page 203  
CONFERENCE XXXV I. Of feigned Diseases. II. Of regulating the Poor. Page 209  
CONFERENCE XXXVI I. Of the tying of the Point. II. Which is the greatest of all Vices. Page 214  
CONFERENCE XXXVII I. Of the Cabala. II. Whether the Truth ought always to be spoken. Page 220  
CONFERENCE XXXVIII I. Of the Period, called Fits of Fevers. II. Of Friendship. Page 226  
CONFERENCE XXXIX I. Why all men naturally desire knowledge. II. Whether Permutation or Exchange be more commodious than Buying and Selling. Page 230  
CONFERENCE XL I. Of Prognostication or Presaging by certain Animals. II. Why all men love more to command then to obey. Page 238  
CONFERENCE XLI I. Of Comets. II. Whether Pardon be better than Revenge. Page 244  
CONFERENCE XLII I. Of the Diversity of Languages. II. Whether is to be preferred, a great stature or a small. Page 251  
CONFERENCE XLIII I. Of the Philosopher's stone. II. Of Mont de piety, or charitable provision for the Poor. Page 256  
CONFERENCE XLIV I. How Minerals grow. II. Whether it be best to know a little of every thing, or one thing exactly. Page 262  
CONFERENCE XLV I. Whether the Heavens be solid or liquid. II. Whether it be harder to get then to preserve. Page 268  
CONFERENCE XLVI I. Of Vacuity. II. Of the Extravagance of Women. Page 274  
CONFERENCE XLVII I. Of the Virtue of Numbers. II. Of the Visible Species. Page 280  
CONFERENCE XLVIII I. Whether every thing that nourishes an Animal ought to have life. II. Of Courage. Page 286  
CONFERENCE XLIX I. Whether there be Specifical remedies to every Disease. II. Whether Tears proceed from Weakness. Page 292  
CONFERENCE L I. Whether Colours are real. II. Whether is better, to speak well, or to write well. Page 298  
CONFERENCE LI I. At what time the year ought to begin. II. Why the Loadstone draws Iron. Page 309  
CONFERENCE LII I. Of a Point. II. Whether other Animals besides Man have the use of Reason. Page 315  
CONFERENCE LIII I. Whether there be more than five Senses. II. Whether is better, to speak, or to be silent. Page 319  
CONFERENCE LIV I. Of Touch. II. Of Fortune. Page 325  
CONFERENCE LV I. Of the Taste. II. Whether Poetry be useful. Page 331  
CONFERENCE LVI I. Of the Smelling. II. Of Eloquence. Page 337  
CONFERENCE LVII I. Of the Hearing. II. Of Harmony. Page 343  
CONFERENCE LVIII I. Of the Sight. II. Of Painting. Page 349  
CONFERENCE LIX I. Of Light. II. Of Age. Page 355  
CONFERENCE LX I. Of Quintessence. II. Which is the most in esteem, Knowledge or Virtue. Page 361  
CONFERENCE LXI I. Which is hardest to endure, Hunger or Thirst. II. Whether a General of an Army should endanger his person. Page 367  
CONFERENCE LXII I. Of Time. II. Whether 'tis best to overcome by open force, or otherwise. Page 373  
CONFERENCE LXIII I. Of Motion. II. Of Custom. Page 379  
CONFERENCE LXIV I. Of the Imagination. II. Which is most powerful, Hope or Fear. Page 384  
CONFERENCE LXV I. Of the Intellect. II. Whether the Husband and Wife should be of the same humour. Page 390  
CONFERENCE LXVI I. Of Drunkenness. II. Of Dancing. Page 396  
CONFERENCE LXVII I. Of Death. II. Of the Will. Page 402  
CONFERENCE LXVIII I. Of the Magnetical Cure of Diseases. II. Of Anger. Page 408  
CONFERENCE LXIX I. Of Life. II. Of Fasting. Page 414  
CONFERENCE LXX I. Of Climacterical Years. II. Of Shame. Page 419  
CONFERENCE LXXI I. Why motion produces heat. II. Of Chastity. Page 425  
CONFERENCE LXXII I. Of Thunder. II. Which of all the Arts is the most necessary. Page 431  
CONFERENCE LXXIII I. Of the Earthquake. II. Of Envy. Page 437  
CONFERENCE LXXIV I. Whence comes trembling in men. II. Of Navigation and Longitudes. Page 441  
CONFERENCE LXXV I. Of the Leprosy, why it is not so common in this Age as formerly. II. Of the ways to render a place populous. Page 447  
CONFERENCE LXXVI I. Of Madness. II. Of Community of Goods. Page 452  
CONFERENCE LXXVII I. Of Sorcerers. II. Of Erotick, or Amorous Madness. Page 457  
CONFERENCE LXXVIII I. Why the Sensitive Appetite rules over Reason. II. Whether Speech be natural, and peculiar to Man. Page 461  
CONFERENCE LXXIX I. What the Soul is. II. Of the apparition of Spirits. Page 466  
CONFERENCE LXXX I. Of the Epilepsy or Falling-sickness. II. Whether there be any Art of Divination. Page 471  
CONFERENCE LXXXI I. Of Chiromancy. II. Which is the noblest part of the Body. Page 475  
CONFERENCE LXXXII I. Which is most powerful, Art or Nature. II. Whether Wine is most to be tempered in Winter, or in Summer. Page 480  
CONFERENCE LXXXIII I. Of Baths. II. Whether the Wife hath more love for her Husband, or the Husband for his Wife. Page 485  
CONFERENCE LXXXIV I. Of Respiration. II. Whether there be any certainty in humane Sciences. Page 489  
CONFERENCE LXXXV I. Whether the manners of the Soul follow the temperament of the Body. II. Of Sights or Shows. Page 495  
CONFERENCE LXXXVI I. Of the Dog-days. II. Of the Mechanics. Page 500  
CONFERENCE LXXXVII I. Whether the Souls Immortality is demonstrable by Natural Reasons. II. Whether Travel be necessary to an Ingenious Man. Page 505  
CONFERENCE LXXXVIII I. Which is the best sect of Philosophers. II. Whence comes the diversity of proper Names. Page 512  
CONFERENCE LXXXIX I. Of Genii. II. Whether the Suicide of the Pagans be justifiable. Page 517  
CONFERENCE XC I. Of Hunting. II. Which is to be preferred, the weeping of Heraclitus, or the laughing of Democritus. Page 522  
CONFERENCE XCI I. Whether heat or cold be more tolerable. II. Who are most happy in this World, Wise Men or Fools. Page 527  
CONFERENCE XCII I. Which is most healthful, moisture or dryness. II. Which is to be preferred, the Contemplative Life or the Active. Page 531  
CONFERENCE XCIII I. Of the spots in the Moon and the Sun. II. Whether 'tis best to use severity or gentleness towards our dependants. Page 536  
CONFERENCE XCIV I. Of the Eclipses of the Sun and Moon. II. Whether all Sciences may be profitably reduced to one. Page 544  
CONFERENCE XCV I. Of the diversity of Wits. II. Of New-year's Gifts. Page 548  
CONFERENCE XCVI I. Of Place. II. Of Hieroglyphics. Page 554  
CONFERENCE XCVII I. Of Weights, and the causes of Cravity. II. Of Coat-Armour. Page 559  
CONFERENCE XCVIII I. Of the causes of Contagion. II. Of the ways of occult Writing. Page 566  
CONFERENCE XCIX I. Of Ignes fatui. II. Of Eunuches. Page 571  
CONFERENCE C I. Of the Green-sickness. II. Of Hermaphrodites. Page 575    


THE First Conference.  
I. Of Method. II. Of Entity.  

I. Of Method.  
EVery one being seated in the great Hall of the Bureau, Report was made, That the Resolve of the last Conference was, to Print the Matters which should be proposed henceforward, and the Disquisitions upon them which deserved it; As also that for the bringing in of all the most excellent Subjects that are found in the Sciences, and for the doing it orderly, the Method requisite to be observed therein should this day be taken into consideration: The practice of which Method was likewise thought fit to be begun upon the most Universal Subject, which is, Entity. Wherefore every one was entreated to set cheerfully about opening the way in this so pleasant and profitable an Enterprise.  
The first Speaker defined Method [The succinct order of things which are to be handled in Arts and Sciences] and said that it is of two sorts; One, of Composition, which proceedeth from the Parts to the Whole, and is observed in Speculative Disciplines; The other, of Resolution, which descendeth from the whole to the parts, and hath place in Practical disciplines. He said also, that hereunto might be added the Method of Definition, which is a way of defining a thing first, and then explicating the parts of its definition: but it participateth of both the former.  
The second said, That besides those two general Methods, there is a particular one, which is observed when some particular Subject is handled; according to which it behoveth to begin with the Name (or Word;) Distinguish the same by its divers acceptations; then give the Definition, assign its Principles and Causes, deduce its Proprieties, and end with its Species or Parts.  
After this some dilated upon the Method of Cabalists, which they begin with the Archetypal World, or Divine Idea; thence descend to the World Intellectual, or Intelligences; and lastly, to the Elementary, which is, Physics, or Natural Philosophy.  
That of Raymond lully followed next. And here the Difference of humane judgements came to be wondered at. Most other Nations could never fancy this Art which he calls Great and Wonderful, and yet the Spaniards profess it publicly at Majorca, in a manner engrossing it from all other places. He maketh the same to consist in thirteen Parts. The first of which he calleth the Alphabet, from B to K; to each of whose Letters he assigneth, 1. a Transcendent after his mode, 2. a Comparison, 3. a Question, 4. a Substance, 5. a Virtue; and 6. a Vice; as to B 1. Goodness, 2. Difference, 3. Whether a thing is? 4. Deity, 5. Justice, 6. Covetousness. To C, 1. Greatness, 2. Agreement, 3. What it is. 4. Angel, 5. Prudence, 6. Gluttony, and so of the rest. The Second Part contains 4. Figures; The Third Definitions. Then follow Rules, Tables, containing the several combinations of Letters: The Evacuation, Multiplication, and mixture of Figures; The 9 Subjects; The Application; The Questions; The custom and manner of teaching; which I should deduce more largely unto you, but that they require at least a whole Conference. In brief, such it is, that he promiseth his disciples that they shall be thereby enabled to answer ex tempore (yet pertinently) to all questions propounded unto them.  
The fifth said, That there was no need of recurring to other means then those of the Ordinary Philosophy, which maketh two sorts of Order, namely, one of Invention, and another of Disposition or Doctrine, which latter is the same thing with the Method above defined. And as for the Order of Invention, it is observed when some Science is invented, in which we proceed from Singulars to Universals: As, after many experiences that the Earth interposed between the Sun and the Moon caused a Lunar Eclipse, this Universal Conclusion hath been framed, That every Lunar Eclipse is made by the interposition of the Earth between the Sun and the Moon.  
An other alleged that Method might well be called a Fourth Operation of the Mind. For, the First is the bare knowledge of things, without affirmation or negation; The Second is a Connexion of those naked Notices with Affirmation or Negation. The Third is a right disposing of those Propositions and their Consequence; which if it be necessary, it is called Demonstration. And the Fourth is the Series of those Demonstrations, in such manner that those on which others depend are the first: as it is seen in the Elements of Euclid.  
Also the Lord Montagne's Method was alleged, who learned the Latin Tongue from the Cradle, no person speaking to him but in that Tongue. So was the Cyropaedia of Xenophon, where the Lessons are the Practice of Political and Military Virtues, which serve more to form the Judgement of Children than the Memory.   

II. Of Entity.  
The First Hour being spent in these Remarks, the Second was employed in discoursing concerning Entity, which was explicated by this Series, so much the more agreeably to the Company, for that they observed such a Contrivance of it that the end of the preceding Period is the beginning of the ensuing.  
All Power requires to be reduced into Act;  
Act is a Perfection;  
Perfection is the accomplishment of that which is wanting;  
There is wanting to Man Felicity;  
Felicity is, to be united to his Principle;  
He is united to his Principle when he is made like unto it;  
He is made like unto it by Science;  
Science is acquired by Demonstration;  
Demonstration is the knowledge of a thing by its cause;  
To know a cause, it is requisite to seek it.  
It is sought when we admire it.  
We admire that of which we are ignorant.  
We are ignorant because of difficulty.  
Difficulty, among other causes, ariseth from Disproportion.  
Disproportion proceedeth from hence, that our Mind is one and finite, and the things which it ought to know are various, yea infinite. Wherefore it ought to reduce all things to one general, which is Entity, called by the Latins Ens; Which being known and subdivided imparteth to us the distinct knowledge of all things which depend thereon.  
The second added, That Entity is that which is. For the knowing of it, 'tis requisite to consider its Principles, its Proprieties, and its Species. Principles are of two sorts, viz. Either of Cognition; or of the Thing. A Principle of Cognition is, That which causeth us to know a thing; As, That the Whole is greater than its Part. The Principle of a thing is that which constitutes it; as the Rational Soul, and the Humane Body, are the Principles of Man. The Principle of the Cognition of Entity (which is the sole Principle in Metaphysics) is this; It is impossible for one and the same thing to be and not to be at the same time. The Principles of the Thing are Essence and Existence. Essence is that which causeth a Thing to be that which it is; As, Reasonable, Animal, (or Living-creature) is the Essence of Man, because it causeth a Man to be a Man. Existence effecteth that a Thing exists forth of its causes.  
The Proprieties of Entity are Three; One, True, and Good. One, that which is not divided in itself, but is different from every Thing else. True, is that which falleth under knowledge. Good, that which is convenient or suitable to each thing.  
Entity is divided into Real and Imaginary.  
Real Entity is either actually, or in power.  
Actual Entity is either Increated or Created.  
Created Entity is either Substance or Accident.  
Substance is that which subsisteth by itself.  
Accident that which cannot be naturally, but in another.  
Substance is either Incomplete, which is but a part; or, Complete, which is a Whole.  
The Incomplete are the Matter and the Form; The Complete, that which is compounded thereof.  
As the deduction of each of the abovementioned points was going to be made, it was Remonstrated, That these Matters being not easy to be apprehended, nor otherwise expressed then in Scholastic terms, (which we would avoid) it seemed meet to pass to things more pleasant, running over the rest as lightly as possible; And yet to pursue both the Methods above mentioned. The Company therefore concluded to treat Of Principles, and Of the End of all things, in general, at the next Conference.  
At the hour of Inventions one presented himself and made this overture. I offer to cause any one whatsoever, Man or Woman, of competent age, to comprehend in eight hours, (viz. one hour a day, for avoiding the ryring of the Mind) a perfect Logic, wherein shall be contained all the Precepts of well Defining, Dividing, and Arguing; All the kinds of Arguments, and the places from whence they are drawn; Namely, the Definitions and Divisions of the Vniversals, of the Causes, of the Opposites, of the Whole, etc. Their Axioms, and the limitations of the same, with an Abridgement of Categories. I offer likewise to teach perfectly the Sphere, and all the Principles of Geophraphy, in two hours; so that afterwards the person shall be able to make use of Maps and Books for knowing the Circles, Zones, and Climates; besides the Parallels and Meridian's for finding the degrees of Longitude and Latitude, and other things pertaining to Geography. I will also teach Moral Philosophy in twelve hours; Metaphysics in ten; but for Natural Philosophy, I ask four times as much time.  
Another said, That to let pass these Undertake (which he judged very daring) there is a great difference between Wisdom and Knowledge; Memory principally contributing to the Latter, as Judgement to the Former. That he proposed a Method to instruct a Child in Wisdom, the Guide and Stern of Humane Actions.  
That all things in the World are either Necessary or Contingent: The former are immutable, the Rules concerning them few, the seeds of them within our breasts, consequently soon learned and easy to retain: Provided the unconstant and irregular multitude of contingent things come not to interrupt the Production and Growth thereof; As it happens by the thorns of Sciences which Solomon, for this reason, saith were invented to serve for a vain Labour to Men. Sciences, in which there is always room for disputing; because if you except their Principles which they borrow from that Wisdom, all the rest in them is but probable and problematical. I conceive therefore that the true Method of Instructing a Child is to begin by informing his Judgement with the Rules of things Necessary. For which purpose, he must be taken void of all bad impressions; between six and seven years is a fit Age. In the smooth Table of this Mind is to be written, in good order, the service of God and the King, Honour, Justice, Temperance, and the other Virtues. When this Mind hath been educated in the Maxims appertaining to each of those Heads; As, That nothing is hidden from God; That 'tis better to die then to revolt from the service of the King; That after Honour there is no more loss; It will be requisite to draw for him out of History Examples of such as have been rewarded for performing the same, and punished for failing therein. In the mean time, care must be taken that no evil or dishonest thing be spoken or done before him; if it happen otherwise, chastisement and blame ought to follow the Offenders. This being done, then only when the precepts which were necessary to his education shall have taken such deep root in his Mind as not to be stifled by the multitude of others; My Method proceeds to furnish him with those of the Liberal Sciences. But with this order again, that (for the same reason) the Rules be not confounded to him with Exceptions; but that these latter be then only taught him after he has well comprehended the former.  
For conclusion, there was an overture of a Way to teach by Playing, from the A B C to the sublimest Sciences. The Proposers reason was, that the best Method of Sciences is that which takes away Difficulties, the principal of which is, The tediousness of Study. That there is nothing less tedious than Play, for the sake of which both great and small oftentimes lose their rest and food. That 'twas the intention of the first Authors, that Children should learn as it were playing, instead of the great rigours which cause them to study against their inclination, with the loss of time, and other inconveniences observed therein. That hence the Place of Learning retains still in Latin the name of the Play of Letters, and the Regent's Masters of the Play. 
Ludus Literarius. Ludi-Magistri.  Then he desired of the Company of Commissioners to receive their Judgement upon the Book which he had made upon this Subject; and the same was delivered into their hands for them to make their report thereof, that day seven night. After which all were desired that they would please to report there at the following Conferences the Inventions which they conceived likely to profit the public, with assurance that the honour and benefit thereof should be secured to themselves: and so the Company was dismissed.    

CONFERENCE II.  
I. Of Principles. II. Of the End of all Things.  

I. Of Principles  
THese five several acceptions of Principle were first considered.  
I. As it is taken for a Cause, especially the Efficient, even that of all Things, and which hath no Beginning, namely, God; who also being the End of all, is upon that account called Alpha and Omega.  
II. For the beginning of quantity; as a point is the beginning of a Line.  
III. For the beginning of some Action; as the first step is the beginning of the race.  
IV. For that which is not made of itself, nor any other; but of which all things are made.  
V. For that of which a thing is made, is composed, and is known. Which definition comprehendeth the Principles of Generation, Composition, and Cognition. For according to the Order of Nature a thing is made before it is and it is before it is known.  
The Second said, That the Principles of Entity and Cognition are the same. For in that they constitute the thing, they are called the Principles of Entity; and inasmuch as Conclusions are drawn from them, they are called Principles of Cognition; Nevertheless deriving their original the one from the other: As from this Principle of Cognition, Nothing is made out of nothing, it is concluded, That then there must be a First Matter.  
The Third said, That that distinction of the Three Principles of Generation, viz. Privation, Matter, and Form, (whereof the first and the last are contraries, two only of Composition, viz. the two last) does not signify that there are three Principles of the thing which is made; Seeing that in the instant that a thing is made, to be making (fieri) and to be made (factum esse) are the same. Since then the thing made hath but two Principles, that which is in making hath no more: Privation being but a Condition requisite to Generation, as the Agent, the End, and some other External Principles are.  
The Fourth said, That our Mind alone doth not make distinction between those three Principles, but they differ in reality. Those who say Privation is more a Principle of Generation than the rest are mistaken, in that they make Generation participate more of Nonentity then of Entity. But it is not, seeing it ariseth out of the former to tend to the latter, being in truth neither the one nor the other. He added, that the Principle of Cognition is either First, or Second. The First proves all, and is proved by none; 'tis the basis of all Sciences, and hath two conditions; namely, that it can neither be denied nor proved. As it cannot be denied, That of two Contradictories one is true, and the other false. Neither can the same be proved, because there is nothing beyond it, or more clear and evident. The Second Principles are those of the Sciences, which they prove, as themselves are proved by the first Principle. For example, That Principle of Physic, Contraries are cured by their Contraries, proves this, Evacuation cureth the diseases caused by plenitude; and itself is proved by that other Principle of Natural Philosophy, to which it is subordinate, that Action is only between Contraries; which is again proved by this, That Action tendeth to render the Patient like to the Agent. Which if it be denied, 'tis answered that if the Agent do not render the Patient like to itself, than this latter would not be altered, and so not be a Patient: Which cannot be, by the first Principle of Knowledge; That a thing cannot be, and not be, at the same time.  
The fifth divided Principles into those of Logic, which constitute a Definition, viz. The Genus and the Difference; into those of Physics, which constitute corporeal things, viz. Matter and Form; into those of Metaphysics, which are Act and Power, Essence and Existence, and the Nature and Inherence in all Accidents; And lastly, into Principles Mathematical, which are a point in continued quantities, and an Unite in Numbers.  
The sixth framed this Question, Since every thing that hath a Beginning hath also an End, how is Number, which hath a Unite for its Beginning, Infinite? It was answered by another, That that infinity of Number is not in Act, as its Beginning is, but only in Power. For when 'tis said, That there is no Number so great, but may be made greater to infinity, this ought not to be accounted more strange than that other Proposition, which is also true, viz. That a Quantity which hath a Beginning may be divided without End; There being no Body so small but may be divided again into a less: For that some thing cannot be resolved into nothing, as of nothing cannot be made some thing naturally.  
This matter was ended with another division of Principles into General and Particular. The General (said they) are some times, but indiscreetly, confounded with Causes and Elements. For every Principle is not a Cause, nor every Cause an Element, nor any Element a Principle: Although every Element be a Cause, and every Cause be a Principle, External or Internal. That every Principle is not a Cause, appears by Privation, which is a Principle (notwithstanding what hath been otherwise argued) by the Maxim above alleged; That Action is only between Contraries. Principles than must be such. Now the Matter is not contrary to the Form; Therefore Privation must. That every Cause is not an Element, is clear by the Final and the Efficient, both of them being extrinsical to the Thing; And nevertheless an Element is the least part of the Thing in which it is in Act or in Power. It is also manifest that an Element is not a Principle, for it is compounded, and corporeal; which a Principle is not. Particular Principles are as various as there are several things in the world. So the Principle of Divinity is the Faith; Of Physic, to preserve the Man and destroy the disease; Of Law, that which is according to Nature, Reason, and Custom: The Principle of Understanding is Natural Evidence; those of Oeconomy, lawful acquisition and use of Goods; Of Politics, Policy, Prudence applied to right Government; Of Prudence, that which is expedient to do or avoid, The Principles of Mathematics are its Axioms; As if, of two equal tfiings, you take away from one as much as from the other, the remainder shall be equal.  
The Principles of History are Experience and Humane Faith: Of other Arts and Disciplines, their Rules and Precepts. The Principles of Man as Man, are the Body and the Soul; as a mixed Substance, the Four Elements; as a Natural, the Liver; as Vital, the Heart; as an Animal or Sensitive, the Brain; as Reasonable, the Intellect. The Principles of an Argument are the Major and the Minor. The End is the Principle of rational Actions; as the Matter in things Natural, and the Idea in Artificial.   

II. Of the End of all Things..  
The Second Hour was employed in discourse touching the End; concerning which it was said, First, that End may be taken as many ways as Beginning; Improperly, for the corruption of some thing (therefore, saith Aristotle, Death is not an End, but a term) Properly, 'tis the Good whereunto all things tend; and 'tis either first (as, to make a medicine) or last (as to cure.) Things which can tend to this End are divided into four Classes. Some are furnished with Reason, but not with Sense; as the Angels or Intelligences: Others have Reason and Sense, as Man: Others have Sense without Reason, as Brutes: Others have neither Sense nor Reason, as all the rest of the Creatures. Only the two former Agents, namely, Angel and Man, act formally for some End; because they alone have the four conditions requisite for so doing; viz. 1. Knowledge of the End; 2. Knowledge of the Means which conduce thereunto; 3. A Will to attain it; And 4. Election or Choice of those Means. Others act indeed for it, but improperly; as the Spider and the Swallow, though they frame only by a natural Instinct, the one its Web, the other its Nest, yet attain their End; and the Stone is carried by its own weight to its Centre, which is its Good; but without the abovementioned conditions.  
The Second went about to prove that some of those Animals, which we account void of Reason, Act formally for their End. For, said he, not to mention the Elephant, recorded by Plutarch, who divided his Oats in his Master's presence, as to show him that he had but half his allowance usually given him; or that other who carried his Kettle to the River, and filled it with water, to try whether it had not a hole in it; Nor the Ox, who never went beyond the number of buckets of water which he was wont to draw; Nor the Fox, which lays his Ear to the Ice to listen whether the water moves still underneath, before he trust himself upon it; Nor the Hart of Crete, which runs to the Dittany, and, as they say, with that herb draws the Arrow out of his flesh: Is it not for the good of its young that the Swallow distils into their Eyes the juice of Celandine, with which she recovers their sight? From whence Men have learned to make use of that herb against the film of the Eye. Have we not Horses which let themselves blood? Has not the Dog election of all the ways, whereof he chooses only that which his Master went, who (with all the goodly prerogatives that he ascribes to himself above him) cannot do so much as his Dog? And though the Example be familiar, do we not see Domestic Animals whom the Apprehension of beating keeps often from doing the mischief to which their natural inclination leads them: Which is, not only to know an End, but amongst many to choose the best.  
The Third replied, That these Examples evidence the dexterity of Man's wit; who knows how to apply them to his own purposes: But, in reality, it belongs not to a Brute, what ever advantage it may get by commerce with Man, to know its End as an End: Because the End is that which measures the Means; a Mean (Medium) being not the better for that it is greater, but for that it is fitter proportioned to its End. So when Hypocrates cures the Cramp with cold water, the Cure is not less excellent than if he did it with potable Gold. Now this Comparing and Measuring is a work of the Understanding.  
The Fourth said, As all other Lights disappear at the Sun's, so all the other Ends must give place to the Last, which is the Supreme Good, or, Felicity: Which being either Natural or Supernatural, and this latter inexpressible; It seems that the present Exercise ought to terminate in the former, namely, Natural Felicity. This Beatitude, in what ever thing it is found, (for Saint Augustine reckons above eight hundred Opinions about it, and yet more may be added to the number) consists in the most excellent Action of Man, which cannot depend but upon the noblest Faculties, the Understanding and the Will. The Action of the former is to Understand; That of the Latter is to Will. The Felicity then of Man consists in Understanding well, and in Willing well, or Loving; For the pleasure of Enjoyment is but the relishing of this Felicity, not the Felicity itself, as some have thought, with Epicurus, who is to be blamed only in this regard: For it is neither true, nor credible, that a Philosopher could so much forget himself as the vulgar imputes to him, to place the Supreme Good in Pleasures, even the foulest and grossest.  
The Fifth maintained, That it was unprofitable to speak of a Thing which is not; Meaning, that pretended worldly Felicity which Men only fancy; and to that Induction which Solomon makes of all the things in which Men seek their contentment in vain, he added Authorities holy and profane; to show that there is nothing happy on all sides; and that Solon had reason to say, That Felicity is not to be found in this Life. 
Nihil est ex omni parte beatum.   
The Sixth replied, That what is said of the Miseries of this corruptible Life, compared with the beatitude of the other eternal, ought not to be confounded and taken absolutely. That the contentments of the one cannot be too much vilified, in respect to the ravishments of the other; of which the Pagan's themselves had knowledge enough (though under several names) by the sole Light of Nature, to cause them to make the Fiction of the Elysian Fields; in comparison of which they held that there was nothing but unpleasantness in this world. But as the barbarousness of some Ages past is not to be compared with the Politeness and Learning of this (and yet there was always some or other amongst them that passed for an accomplished Man) so because there is a great Felicity in Heaven, it is not to be inferred that there is none at all upon Earth. Besides, we might (contrary to the received Maxim) accuse Nature of having made some thing in vain, by Imprinting in Man that desire of becoming happy in this world, if he cannot be so.  
The Seventh said, That a Man is not happy by possessing some Excellent Thing, but by the satiating of his desire. And therefore if (which is impossible) a happy Man should desire some greater Good, he were no longer happy. As on the contrary, he who can satisfy himself with the least Good, is nevertheless happy. For 'tis the correspondence or sutableness which makes a Good to be esteemed such. A Good may content the Appetite without reflection; but ifthe conditions of the Enjoyment be reflected upon, it will suffice for the rendering it perfect, that the Imagination exempt it from all imperfection, and attribute all the Prerogatives to it which the Will desires in it; although it deceive itself.  
The Eight defined, The Supreme Good, (after Aristotle) The Action of the most perfect Virtue, (which is Wisdom and Prudence) in a perfect Age and a long Life, accompanied with the Goods of the Body and of Fortune, viz. Health, Beauty, Nobility, Riches, and Godly Children. Not that the Felicity which is called Formal consists in these Goods; but they serve for instruments and ornaments unto it, as 'tis hard for a sick Man to become Learned, and for a poor to exercise the Virtues of Liberality and Magnisicence.  
The Ninth said, That in Morality the General Propositions are easier to be assented to, than the Particular; Yea, that there are many to which all the world assents in general terms; As, That Virtue ought to be Loved. For than we willingly embrace it wholly naked. But by reason of the difficulties which accompany it, Opinions become divided. The Prudent, who knows how to moderate his Passions, willeth it; The Incontinent, who pleaseth to let himself be hurried by the torrent, willeth it not; And denying in the retail what he before approved in the gross, contradicts himself. Another willeth and willeth it not, because he willeth it too faintly, or doth not sufficiently avoid the occasions which lead to Vice. Thus all the world agrees, That it behoveth to render to every one that which belongs to him; but in the Application, the honest Man doth so, the dishonest doth the contrary. There is not the Man but confesseth, That the End ought to be preferred before the Means which conduce to that End; But one takes for an End that which another takes for a Means. The Covetous (and indeed most Men) take Riches for the End, and Virtue for the Means. On the contrary, the Good Man takes Riches for the Means, and Virtue for his End. In my Judgement, the true Felicity of Man in this world comprehendeth the Goods of the Mind, as the End; the Goods of the Body and Fortune only as the Means.  
There was none in the Company but seemed to have a Mind to speak something to this great Question; of which, out of this Conference, even every particular Man daily passeth Judgement without speaking. For he who forgets all things else, for the acquiring of Honour or Riches, or for the taking of his Pleasure, doth he not imply that he maketh the same his Supreme Good? He that entereth into a Religious Order, doth he not seek the same in Religion? And so of others. But for that the Second Hour was slipped away, the Company proceeded to determine the matter to be treated of at the next Conference; which was, for the First Hour, Of Causes in General. And because there is observed in some, even the most equitable, an ardour in maintaining their Judgements, though every one was sufficiently warned that this place is to have no dispute, and that none is obliged to uphold what he hath said with new Reasons, (our sentiments here being all free;) It was proposed, for the second point, to be particularly enquired, Why every one desires to have his own Judgement followed, though he have no interest therein.  
The Hour designed for Inventions began with the Report made by the Commissioners nominated at the last Conference for examining the Book containing the Method of Teaching the Liberal Disciplines by Playing; The Report was, That the Author seemed very capable of performing it, the Discourse being written in a good stile; That he evidently proved that the thing is Practicable; as well in respect of the Method itself, which seems feasable, as the Masters of the Play, and the Disciplines. But for that he discovered his meaning only in the Art of Teaching to read and write, and not in the other Disciplines, they could not give their Judgements upon more than what appeared to them; and so much they liked and approved.  
Then an Other presented a Latin Poem, Entitled, Fulmen in Aquilam, containing, in Twelve Books, Twelve Thousand Heroic Verses, in which was comprised the Life, Achievements, and Death of the King of Sweden; Having first Remonstrated to the Company that the great reputation of these Conferences brought him from his own Country to this City, that he might correct, refine, and polish his work, by the censure of so many great Wits as met there; Conceiving there is no better way to write things for lasting, then to pass them under the Judgements of many. Whereupon Commissioners were assigned to him for that end, into whose hands he delivered his Work.  
After which, to show that something has a Beginning, and yet no End; Another offered to make appear the Experiment of a Perpetual Motion, if the matter could be kept from decaying.  
A Third answered, That making it of Glass, the matter would be Eternal, Glass being the last Product of Nature; And that thence the Conjecture is probable that the Earth will be vitrified by the last Conflagration, and by that means become diaphanous and resplendent. And thus ended this Conference.    

CONFERENCE III.  
I. Of Causes in General. II. Whence it is that every one is zealous for his own Opinion, though it be of no importance to him.  

I. Of Causes in General.  
HE who spoke first, said, That the word 'Cause must not be confounded with that of Reason, though it seems so in our manner of Speech; because an Effect serves sometime for a Reason to prove its Cause. As when I am asked the reason by which I know that Fire is Light; I Answer, By its ascending upwards; which is the Effect of Fire, and the proof but not the Cause of its lightness. 'Cause also differs from Principle, because every Cause is real, and imparts a being different from its own; which Privation (being a Principle) hath not: And so every Cause is a Principle, but every Principle is not a Cause. Now a Cause is That which produceth an Effect. There are Four; Matter, Form, the Agent, and its End. Which Number is not drawn from any real distinction between them; Seeing many times one and the same Thing is Form, Agent, and End, in several respects. So the Rational Soul is the Form of Man, the Efficient Cause of his Ratiocination, and the next End of the Creation. But it is drawn from the four ways of being a Cause, which are called Causalities; whereof one sustaineth the Forms, to wit, the Matter, An Other informeth that Matter, and is the Form; A Third produceth that Form, and uniteth it to the Matter, and is the Agent, or Efficient Cause; The Fourth by its goodness exciteth the Agent to act, and is the Final Cause.  
The Second said, That the Causes are handled diversely, according to the diversity of Sciences. The Logician speaks of them so far as he draws from them his Demonstrations, Definitions, and Probable Arguments: The Natural Philosopher, inasmuch as they are the Principles of all kind of Alterations happening in natural bodies: The Metaphysitian, as Cause is a Species of Entity, which is generally divided into Cause and Effect: In which consideration Supernatural Things have also some Causes, but not all. Wherefore, in my Judgement, said he, Cause taken in general cannot be divided into the Four Species above mentioned; because Spirits have no Material Cause: but it ought to be first divided, in reference to Immaterial things, into Efficient and Final; and into the four abovesaid, in respect of Material. That Efficient Cause is the first principle of Motion and Rest, and is of two sorts; viz. Universal or Equivocal, and Particular or univocal. The former can produce several effects of different Species, whether it depend not on any other, as God, and is then called the First Cause; or depend on some other, and is called a Second Cause; As the Sun, which together with Man generates Man. The Particular (otherwise, Univocal) 'Cause is that which produceth one sort of effect alone; As Man generateth Man. The Material Cause is that of which something is made. The Formal Cause is that which causeth the Thing to be that which it is, whether Essentially, as the Soul makes the Man; or Accidentally, as a round form makes a Bowl. The Final is that which incites the Agent to act: as Gain doth the Merchant to Traffic.  
The Third said, Matter and Form being parts of the whole cannot be Causes thereof; because than they would be Causes of themselves; which is absurd. Neither is the End a Cause, but only the term and rest of the Cause; Besides, there are some Ends which are impossible to obtain, and are nothing of reality, such as a Cause ought to be; as when Heliogabalus propounded to himself to become a Woman, others to fly, to become invisible, and the like absurdities. So that there is but the Efficient Sole Cause of all Things, which is the Internal Idea in God, which is nothing else but that Fiat which created the World. 'Tis that very Cause which produceth all things in all different times and places, and acts upon Art, Nature, and Nothing; whence it is that All Entity, conformable to that Increated Exemplar, beareth those three Characters, Truth, Goodness, and Unity, which all things are bound to represent, under the Penalty of becoming Nothing, out of which they were produced. 'Tis a Circle (according to Trismegist) whose Centre is every where, and Circumference no where; which possibly moved Galen to term Man the Centre of Mixed Bodies; and all Antiquity, a Little World; and made Saint Thomas say, that Man hath been united hypostatically to God the Son, who is the Idea of the Father, for the rejoining of all the productions of the world to their first Principle. Here he fell into Divinity, but he was admonished to observe the Rules appointed by this Assembly, to keep as far off as possible from such Matters; and so he ended, when he had mentioned the order that is observed in the actions of that Idea, (which said he) acteth first upon the Intelligences as nearest approaching to its pure Nature; they upon the Heavens, these upon the Elements, and these upon mixed bodies.  
The Fourth added, That that Idea is a Cause not only in Natural Things, but also in Artificial. As in the building of a House, the Idea which the Architect hath in his Mind excited his Will, and this commands the Motive-faculty of the Members, or those of his Laborours', to dispose the Stones, Timber, and Mortar; which entering into the Composition of the Building, cannot (for the Reason abovementioned) be Causes of it, as neither can the proportion and form.  
An Other said, That if the Idea be a Cause, (which cannot be but in Artificial Things) it must be the Formal, and not the Efficient; since it is nothing else but an Original, in imitation of which the Artificer labours; and since the work derives its form from that Idea which is the Copy.  
It was added by a Sixth, That the Idea is not Cause, but the true Essence of Things, and the first objective Verity which precedes all Knowledge Humane, but not Divine; and is only hereby distinct from Nothing, in that it is known by God: which suiteth not with Nothing, from which any thing cannot be distinguished; but it must be, if not in Act, at least in Power.  
The Seventh, amplifying touching Ideas, said, That upon the Knowledge of them depend all Sciences and Arts, but especially all what Men call Inventions, which are nothing less than such; because 'tis no more possible to invent some thing new, then to create some substance, and make some thing of nothing. But as all things are made by Transmutation, so no Novelty is produced by Imitation, either of things which are really existent, or which our Mind frames and connects; as of a Mountain and Gold, it makes a Golden Mountain. Thus the four most Excellent Inventions of the Modern Ages; The Compass, the Gun, Printing, and Perspective-glasses; the two former were derived from Experiments of the Loadstone, from the effect of shooting Trunks and Fire. As for Printing, what is the Matrice wherein the Founders cast their Characters, or those Characters composed in a flat Form, as also Copper-cuts, but a perfect Exemplar and Idea, which is communicated fully to all its individuals? And Perspective-glasses are nothing but ordinary ones multiplied.  
Another said, That Causes cannot be known at all; whence it comes to pass that we have no certain Knowledge; Now to know, is to know a thing by its Causes. For the Universal Efficient Cause is above us, and surpasseth the capacity of our Understanding; and hence all the other inferior and subordinate ones are unknown, because their Cause is not known. The Final is not in our power, and being not so cannot be known, because knowing presupposeth being. Forms and Specifical Differences are hidden to us. The Matter is so unknown, and so little a thing, that even Aristotle could not define it, saving by what it is not, or by Analogy and Proportion to other things; But since Proportion cannot be but between two things equally known, and the First Matter being not so, (so much as the Wax, to which, for Example, it is compared) our Mind cannot comprehend that Analogy.  
The Ninth said, That the Elements (which he held to be the First Matter) are ingenerable and incorruptible; Mixed Bodies being nothing else but those Elements united in sundry fashions. That this Harmonical Union and Symmetry is the form of Mixts, which is nothing but a certain Mode or Fashion of Being: Whence in all kind of Generation, there being no Substantial Mutation, but only a Conjunction and Separation of the Elements, there is no other Cause but their Matter. Which is thus proved to be the First; because if there be a second granted, then as Brass, being the Matter of a Statue, that Brass must have another Matter, and this is a Third, and so to Infinity; unless one First be acknowledged.  
The Tenth said, That if a Material Cause be admitted, the Three other must be admitted also. For Matter naturally desiring Forms, it is altered from one into another, and that Alteration cannot arise from itself: For Nothing is altered by itself but by an other. It comes then from some Agent which moves that Matter, and which is the Efficient Cause; which cannot do any thing in vain, but for some End, and this is the Final Cause. This End is in Natural Things the same with the Form, and differs not from it but according to our manner of Understanding. For the End of Generation is the Form of the Thing generated; and that very Formis the End of Generation. Wherefore, admitting the Matter, the other Three cannot be excluded.   

II. Whence it is that we are zealous for out own Opinions.  
Here they passed to the Second Point designed for this Conference, upon which many Opinions of divers Authors were alleged; Some attributing the Zeal for our own Judgements to the Antipathy which is found in contrary Humours, caused by the diversity of Temper, and these by the opposition of the Heavenly Bodies: Especially when Saturn, that obstinate and melancholy Planet is predominant there. Others referred it to Ambition, following the conceit of those who think there is a Heap of Honour in the world, to which every one hath his right, and of which there is less left to others when some are suffered to take a great deal. One ascribed it to the subtlety of the Mind, which seeks to sport itself in new conceits, and having produced them will not seem to want means to defend them. And he observed that this Cantharideses of Opinastry adheres usually to the goodliest flowers, there being otherwise nothing more necessary to the evidencing of Truth then contest in which we propose to ourselves to find it.  
After this, One explicated that which gave occasion to the Question, in this manner. Men desire nothing but Good, distinguished into Honour, Profit, and Pleasure. None of which Three are gotten by obstinacy in an erroneous conceit, especially when it is known for such; But, on the contrary, there is shame in it, one loseth his credit by it many times, but always the time, and renders himself unacceptable to the hearers, as 'tis seen in Scholastic Disputes. Whence it comes to pass that a Scholar brought up in these wranglings never begins to be esteemed in company till he has laid aside that ill quality of Never-yielding. Whereas, on the contrary, the more Ingenuous decline those Asperities by words of yieldance even in things wherein they have apparently most of Reason on their side. And whon they are mistaken, as a mettled Horse rather rids himself out of the Plough than stays there; So 'tis proper to a strong Mind to betake to a better Sentiment than its own, without sticking at the fear which the weaker are possessed with, lest they should be blamed for having been subject to err either in fact or in right: Remembering that 'tis incident to Humanity to err, but Diabolical to persevere in a fault. Hypocrates hath freely told his own. St. Augustin hath made a Book purposely of his Retractations, and after him Cardan, and many other great personages. Every one knows this, every one commends it rather than Opiniastry; but when it comes to the effect, very few people practise it. Which might be excused by the strong Passion for particular interests, if Men gave their Opinions in a Matter which concerned their or their Friend's Estate, etc. But I account it strange in a Question which imports no benefit at all to any person, as in that about the Ideas which we were newly speaking of.  
The next found some scruple in the Thesis: for that it seemed impossible to him for a Man not be concerned for his Good; Now his Good is that his judgement be always esteemed. Nor matters it that he may be mistaken in his conceit of that Good; for it sufficeth that he judge it such: Objects of the Will being to the Understanding, as Colours are to Light; this doth not give them their Essence of Colour, but they hold that from their own Principle; but it imparts the being visible, or visibility, to them: So the Understanding gives not to the Objects of the Will that sutableness wherein the Nature of Good consists, they have that from their own stock and Nature; but it gives them Amability or Appetibility, or, to speak better, the being amiable or desirable. For knowing such convenience or sutableness, it judgeth the suitable thing amiable; So that as soon as 'tis judged such, 'tis desired as a Good. Now Man judging it a Good to have his Opinion followed, willeth it as such; and as a thing wherein he hath the highest interest. For Man, as Man, hath no Good more Eminent then to Know, Judge, and give his Sentence of Things; 'tis his utmost Natural End. Moreover, Truth which is the Result of that Good, is defined a Measure, Adequateness, and Correspondence of our Understanding and the Thing known, attributing to it nothing Extrinsical, and abstracting from it nothing that is its own. Now a Man that hath judged and given his advice, at least according to his Apprehension, seeing that advice rejected, falls into a double interest; One arising from the charitable inclination which he hath for the good of him that consults him, whom he seeth likely to miscarry by not following his advice; The other being his own proper interest, for that the slighting his advice is a tacit accusing him of failing in a Thing Essential to his End, and calling him a Monster, or Fault of Nature. For as a Monster is called a Fault of Nature, because the Agents producing it have slipped and gone awry out of the way which she had prescribed and scored out to them: So Man not judging as he ought, deviates out of the way which leadeth to his End. This is it which makes him so sensible of the slighting of his advice, which slighting seems to conclude that he hath ill judged, and is a Liar in his Knowledge. And hence it is said that our French cannot endure a Lie, by which a Man is employed to have no Understanding nor ability to judge; seeing a Lie is opposite to that Truth which I spoke of. For the same Reason a Man is ossended with being called Fool, that is, stupid and unable to judge; in Revenge of which Injury, and to render the like, he often gives a Cuff, which stricketh upon the Seat of Wisdom, the Face; for according to Solomon, the Wisdom of a Man shineth in his Countenance: Therefore our Lord saith in the Gospel, that he who calleth his Brother Fool is liable to Hell, for that he impeacheth the goodly lustre of God's Image, which consisteth in Judgement and Knowledge; which he who calleth Fool, obscureth and bringeth in doubt.  
The Third said, That the Reason why we are so zealous for our Opinions, is, For that we love all that proceedeth from ourselves, and particularly our Children, in whom we see portrayed somewhat of our own Images; So our Opinions and Conceptions being the fruits of our Mind, we love them with Passion. Whence also Men are more lovers of the wealth which they have acquired themselves, then of that which they inherit. But the Reason why we are so zealous of our opinions, though we know they are false, is, That the more false Things are, the more they are their own. For a true Opinion is ours indeed, but not altogether, for it is also in the Thing; Whereas that which is false is only ours, since it hath no foundation in the Thing, but merely in our Mind which imagines it to be, though it be not. Whence it is that there is no Religion nor Heresy so false, but have had their Authors and followers, Yea, 'tis chiefly in this kind of Judgement that we will not be controlled; But Authorities, Reasons, Experiences, and also punishments being ineffectual, cause it to be conjectured that there is something more than Humane therein. For our Mind, which of itself is pleased with sublime Things, such as they are which concern Religion, is the more zealous of them the more false they are, as being altogether our own.  
The following Speakers referred the Cause to the difficulty of defacing that which is engraven in our Understanding; To our being grounded in Different Principles, to the habit which some have of contradicting all proposals of others; like the Woman of whom Poggio the Florentine speaks, who being drowned, her Husband went to seek her up the stream, because she fell into the River far below; and to those who advertised him to seek her downwards, he answered; That they did not know his wife's Humour: For since others floated down according to the current of the River, she would infallibly ascend against the stream of the water.  
The Third Hour was spent in the Report of the Poem delivered to be examined in the preceding Conference; the Author of which was the more commended for so great a Performance, in that there hath not appeared in our Age so longwinded a Poem: Whereof the fault was attributed to the niceness of the Wits of these Times, impatient of long reading, and the too exact manner of writing wholly turned into points, the continuation of which is next to impossible.  
Amongst other Inventions, was offered that of an Instrument which so magnifieth a species, that a Flea appears in it of the bigness and form of a Rat, and the little worms which are found in all kinds of good Vinegar, of the bigness of Eels.  
For that One had spoken otherwise of the First Matter than they do in the Schools, and there had not been sufficient Information of the Proposal made in the last Conference touching a Perpetual Motion, they were appointed for the Subjects of the next.    

CONFERENCE IU.  
I. Of the First Matter. II. Of Perpetual Motion.  

I. Of the First Matter.  
THe Entrance into the former of these Subjects was made in this manner. We should be too sensual Philosophers, if we believed nothing but what we see; though also we see the First Matter; but 'tis as the Ancients said Proteus was seen, namely, in so many forms that there was not one of them his own, and yet he was never destitute. So I see the First Matter under the form of a Man, a Horse, a Tree, a stone, and yet the stone, Tree, Horse, Man, are not the Form of that First Matter, for it hath none: Otherwise, if I conceive it clothed with one single Form, 'tis then called Second Matter. Nevertheless they differ not really one from the other; no more than a Man naked, and afterwards clothed. The First is the common Subject of Substantial Forms, and remaineth both before and after Corruption.  
The Second said, That as God is Incomprehensible, by reason of his exceeding Grandeur; so is this First Matter, by reason of its baseness and lowness; which makes it of all Things of the world nearest to Nothing, conceivable by its obscurity alone, as the night which we begin to see when we no longer see any thing else. Whence it follows that we cannot say what it is, but only what it is not.  
The Third said, That as Inachus, Father of Io, seeking his Daughter, found her Name written every where: For being turned into a Heifer, whose Foot is cloven, with the Pastern she graved an O, and with the cloven an I, and so formed Io. Nevertheless her Father knew her not; for she was under a form which covered and hid the shapes and lines of her visage: Just so is the First Matter found written every where. For of it (better then of Jupiter) we may say that it is whatsoever thou seest, and whatsoever is moved is Matter: 
Jupiter est quodcunque vides, quodcunque movetur, Lucan.  But being covered with a form, and involved with the attires that follow it, it cannot be seen in the pure and naked Nature of First Matter. And just as in a loaf of Bread, the Leven which fermented it is there, though kneaded and tempered in the mass of Meal, in which it seemeth lost: For being dissolved it turns to itself, and into its own Nature, the whole Mass wherein it is incorporated: And as in Cheese, the Rennet (though dissolved and mixed in the Milk) ceases not to be there; yea, draws to its Nature the substance into which it was liquifi'd: So the First Matter, though it seem to have lost its being by entering into the Compound, retains the same notwithstanding, and also draws all to itself, rendering material what ever it is joined to. And although it be not visible or perceptible when 'tis alone, yet it is real in the Compound, in which it puts off the Name of First, and takes that of Second. We prove this First Matter from the Necessity of a Common Subject in all Mutations, out of which the Agents, which destroy the forms opposite to their own, may draw forth those which they will produce; which is the term of their Action: Otherwise Things must become nothing, to pass from one being to another; which would presuppose Creation, and destroy those Two Maxims, That a Thing cannot be reduced into Nothing; and Of Nothing is not made something. It is defined An Imperfect and Incomplete Substance, the First Subject of Natural Things, which are composed of it as an Internal and Essential part, not by accident. It's quality is to be a pure Passive Power, which is nothing distinct from itself, but is taken for a Thing begun and not perfected; yet designed to be finished by the Supervening of the Form, and the interposing of Agents, who by their activities drawing the Form out of the bosom of it, perfect and accomplish it. It serves for two purposes: First, To give durance and Consistence to all Things, which last so much the longer as their Matter is less compounded; That is to say, less alienated from its naked and pure Nature of First Matter: As it appears in the Heavens and the Elements, which I conceive are not changed one into another. In the Second place it serves Agents for to act, and Patients to resist. Whence it comes to pass, that the more compact and close their Matter is, the more powerfully they resist: As appears in a hot Iron which burns more than common flame; in Water which moistens more than air, though it be less humid; and in Steel, which resists more than Led.  
The Fourth said, That to know what this First Matter is, it behoveth to proceed thereunto by the way of the Senses, and then examine whether Reason can correct what they have dictated to us. Now our Senses tell us that most part of mixed Bodies are resolved into Salt, Sulphur, and Mercury; And the Chemists affirm, that these Three Bodies cannot be reduced into any other Matter by any Artifice. But Reason correcting Sense teacheth us, that though these Three Bodies are Chemical Sensible Principles, yet they are not First Principles, nor the true First Matter; for that all Bodies are not made of them (as 'tis seen in the Celestial) and they may yet be reduced into another Matter, viz. into the Elements. For in Sulphur there is Fire, seeing it is inflammable; And it hath also some Aqueous or Terrestrial Substance which makes visible that Fire. Likewise there is Fire in Salt, seeing it is tart and biting, and according to the Chemists, the subject of natural heat: There is Water too, for it melteth, and it extinguisheth Fire: There is also Earth in it, for it is dry, fixed, compact, and weighty. Wherefore Reason leading us as far as the Elements, it remaineth to consider whether we must stop there, or go yet further, to find out a Matter into which these are reduced. But not finding any, I conceive they must be the First Matter.  
The Fifth replied, That the Elements being complete Substances, and consequently compounded of Matter and Form, we must not stop there, but go further in search of that first and ultimate subject of all Natural Mutations; it being inconsistent, that a Compound of Matter and Form should be but one of those Two.  
The sixth held, That Water is the First Matter, if not the Elementary, at least the Aethereal Water, which was for that purpose created first: The Holy Scripture witnessing, that In the beginning God created the Heaven and the Earth: Where the Hebrew word that is rendered Heaven signify The Waters; and 'tis added That the Spirit of God moved upon the Waters. Moreover, our Life consisteth solely in Humidity; which failing, Death ensueth.  
The Seventh said, That the First Matter being a Thing most imperfect, and least active, such as the Earth is too, she ought rather to bear that Name then any of the Elements. To show further that the Elements are the First Matter, it was alleged that they are not transmuted one into another, but are ingenerable and incorruptible; that consequently in every kind of Generation or Corruption there is not made any Substantial Mutation, but only an Union or Separation of the Elements; And therefore it is not needful to recur to another First Matter that may be Permanent under all Mutations, since Entities are not to be multiplied without necessity. For as to the former, They are not transmuted one into another, because, before the Transmutation, or Substantial Generation of a Thing, Alteration is requisite, that is, the Introduction of Quality and Dispositions suitable to the Form which is to be produced. For Example, before Fire be turned into Water, Air, or Earth, it must first receive Cold, Moisture, and Gravity, which are the Qualities suitable to those Forms which it is to receive; but this is impossible: For Fire, while it is Fire, cannot be Cold, Moist, and Heavy. As for the Second, viz. That the Elements are ingenerable and incorruptible, he showed it by this other Example. From Wood that burns proceed the Four Elements, or Four different Natures correspondent to them, viz. Flame, Smoke, Liquor, and Ashes, but they were in it before; because they could not be produced out of Nothing; And in the Conflagration of this Wood there is only the Fire that Acts, which being Hot, Light, and Dry, cannot produce such Things as are contrary to itself.  
Here Experience was alleged against him; which evidenceth that Water upon the Fire is turned into Vapour, and then into Air, that Air is turned into Fire; and so of the other Elements. But he replied, That the Water is not turned into Vapour, or into Air; but the Fire insinuating and joining itself with the Water, frames that Vapour, composed Actually of Water and Fire. Whence when you put a Cover upon a Dish of hot Viands, the Particles of Fire which are in those Vapours, being subtle, pass through the Pores of the Cover, and sever themselves from those of the Water; which being unable to pass through too, by reason of their grossness, they adhere to the upper part of it. In like manner, said he, when the Air seems set on fire, 'tis not changed or turned into Fire, but only the Particles of Fire which were dispersed here and there in the Air, become collected and united together. And when the Fire disappears, it proceeds from its Particles being diffused amongst the other Particles of Air, Water, and Earth.  
The Last strengthened this Opinion, saying, That the pure Elements have the same Proprieties that are attributed to the First Matter; and (amongst the rest) fall not under the perception of Sense. Yea, that 'tis as hard to see a pure Element, as to see the First Matter. For the Elementary Fire (ex gr.) cannot be exposed to the Air, nor the Air to the Water, nor the Water to the Earth, (and much less those which are contrary to one another) without being altered by their mutual contract, that is to say, without losing their Nature of Element; which, moreover, cannot be known by the Senses, unless by its Second Qualities; which arising from the mixture of the First, it follows that the Elements which have no other cannot be the object of our Senses. For the First Qualities would not be perceptible by our Senses, if they lodged in a Simple Element. As it appears by the flame of Aqua Vitae, which burns not by reason of the thinness of its Matter; By Ashes, which while it is making, is more Light than heavy; By the Air, which dries instead of moistening, and yet is called the First Humid Body; And by Water, which following the qualities of the Neighbouring Bodies, shows that it cannot be termed of itself either hot or cold.   

II. Of Perpetual Motion.  
At the Second Hour it was said, That the Perpetual Motion to which this Hour was designed, is not meant of Motion to Substance, which is Generation and Corruption, by reason of which Compounded Bodies are in Perpetual Motion; For in Corruptible Things, every Moment is a degree of Corruption. Nor is it meant of Motion to Quantity, which is Augmentation and Diminution; nor of that which is made to Quality, which is Alteration, but of Local Motion. And again, the Inquiry is not about the possibility of Local Motion in Animals, nor about running-water, or Fire, to whom it is natural; as appears in Mills which are upon Rivers, and Turn-spits, or Engines, which the Smoke causeth to turn about. Wherefore his Invention who exactly fastened a Girdle to his skin, which rising and falling as he took his breath, served for a perpetual spring to a Watch that hung at it, (which by that means needed not winding up) was not the Perpetual Motion which we mean. No more was that which proceeded from the wings of a little Windmill, placed at the mouth of a Cave, which the Vapour continually issuing forth, caused always to move. But it must be in a subject naturally unmoveable, made by Art to continue its Motion: And this is proved possible, I. Because, as Hermes saith, That which is below is as that which is above; 
Id quod inserius est sicut illud quod est superius.  Now we see above the Perpetual Motion of the Heavenly Bodies, by example of which it is certain that this Motion must be Circular. In the Second place, Nature hath not given us a desire of Things impossible. Now, an infinite number of good wits show by their search the desire which they have of it. Thirdly, it is held that Archimedes had it, whence it was feigned that Jupiter was jealous of him. In the Fourth place, it seems that if a very uniform Circle could be put exactly upon a Pivot or Spindle, and were set in Motion, it would never stop any more than the Heavens, because it doth not poise or gravitate upon its Centre, so long as it is turning, (as it appears by a Stone, which poiseth not in the Circle made on high in turning it round) and so nothing resisting the external Agent, the Motion must last as long as the impression lasteth; and the impression must last always, because nothing resists it; but on the contrary, the Agitation continues it. Thus of all the Models of Engines, contrived to move perpetually, we see not one that makes so much as one turn; Whereas a plain wheel makes above a thousand, though it be not exactly placed upon its Centre, and the Poles be not two simple points as they ought to be, if that Art could come to perfection; in which Case the effect of Perpetual Motion would follow.  
The Second said, That he held it for impossible, for that it is repugnant, not only as to the Efficient Cause, which being limited and finite cannot produce an infinite Effect; but also as to the very form of that Motion, which must be either Direct, Circular, or Mixt. If it be Direct, it will be made from one term to another, in the one of which its Motion ending, it cannot be perpetual. And because the most certain Principle of this Direct Motion cometh from Gravity, which tendeth from high downwards; when it shall be arrived there, nothing will be able to mount it up again, Gravity having found its Centre and place; or if the Motion be violent, the impression being ended, it cannot re-produce itself of its own accord in the Engine; (otherwise, it would be animated) and therefore it will cease from Motion. If the Motion be Circular, (as in this effect it would be the most proper in imitation of that of the Heavens) this moving Circle shall be in all parts either of equal, or different weight. If it be equal throughout, it shall not turn at all of itself, one part having no advantage over another; If it be unequal, and there be put (for example) four pound to raise up three, it will happen that when the greatest weight hath gotten the lowest place, the lighter parts will not be able to raise up the heavier; and so the Motion will have an End. Now if the Direct and Circular Motion are incapable of this perpetuity, the mixed or compounded of both shall be so too. So that it seemeth impossible, by reason of the gravity of the matter (not to mention its corruptibility) to compose a Machine or Engine that moves always. And were there any ground to think of it, some have conceived it might be done with the Loadstone, which hath a Virtue of attracting to itself on one side, and driving away on the other, and so by continuing this little Motion (which would be of no great benefit) it might render the same perpetual. But you ordinarily see that they who make these inquiries, only find rest in their Engines and Motion in their brains, whereas they hoped the contrary.  
The Third said, That it appears by that which they call the Roman Balance, that the same weight hanged near the Centre, weighs less than when it is more distant from it. Consequently that disposing the weights which shall be round a wheel, so as to be near the Centre about one half thereof, and distant from it the other half, you shall have a Perpetual Motion, which ought not to be accounted the less such, though the Matter should last but a year, yea but a day; it sufficing for a night to that name, that it lasts as long as its Matter; as 'tis seen in the Vice of Archimedes, termed without End, though it be made but of wood; not by reason of its lasting, but because the Vice being applied upon an indented wheel, instead of entering into a screw, there is no raising or letting it down, as is practised in those of Presses.  
He proved it further, For that it is seen that by the help of that Vice without End, by the instrument termed Polyspaston, and others of the like Nature, a Child may easily lift up a weight of 10000 pounds; Yea, even to Infinity, could the strength of the Cordage and the Instruments bear it. For it follows that if a less weight can lift up a greater, this greater will lift up a less; which will be the Perpetual Motion which we inquire after.  
The Fourth replied, That this Motion seemed to him impossible to find, not for its being unprofitable (for it would be one of the greatest helps that Art could afford Man, to ease him in his labours) but because there is in all Arts some thing of impossibility; as the Quadrature of the Circle in Geometry, in Rhetoric the perfect Orator, the Philosopher's Stone in Chemistry, the Commonwealth of Plato in Polity, and in the Mechanics Perpetual Motion. And whereas it is said that a less weight or less strength can lift up a greater, this is to be understood in more time: So that what is gotten in strength is lost in time; which comes all to one. For Example, one Man, or one hundred weight, shall raise as high in one hour, as much weight as four Men or 400. weights shall raise in a quarter of an hour by any Mechanic Invention whatsoever.  
The Last Hour was employed in the mentioning of some Engines which had some likelihood of moving themselves endlessly; And amongst others, it was proposed, That a Windmill having a large wing, which the wind should always drive behind, as it doth weathercocks, and by that means always present its four ordinary sails to the wind, might lift up so weighty a burden whilst the wind blows, that the same burden coming to descend while the wind ceaseth, would cause a Motion of Continual Duration. Which also may be more easily practised in a Perpetual Fountain, by help of a Great Reservor which should be filled by help of the wind, and be emptying itself all the time that it bloweth not.  
One Demanded, Whence it cometh that some are inclined to Mechanics, others only to Contemplation and Literature. It was answered, that this proceeds from the Resemblance which their Mind hath with the Things which they affect. The time being passed for this Conference, this Question afforded the Subject to the next, for the first point concerning Resemblance, and chiefly that of kindred one to another; And for the Second, Whether Letters ought to be joined with Arms.    

CONFERENCE V.  
I. Of Resemblance. II. Whether it behoveth to join Arms to Letters.  

I. Of Resemblance.  
UPon the First, It was said, That there are Three Sorts of Resemblance, viz. Of Species, of Sex, and of Aspect. The Resemblance of Species comes from the Univocal Cause determined to produce an Effect like to itself. That of Sex comes from the Predominancy either of the Masculine or Feminine Geniture, or from the weakness of both: The End of Nature being always to make a perfect work, viz. a Male; to which if she cannot attain, she maketh a Female. The Resemblance of Aspect, (or individual) which is that we are speaking of, comes from the Formative Virtue inherent in the Geniture, which being like a Quintessence or Extract not only of all the parts which contribute to its Generation, but also of the Spirits which accompany, move and inform it in some manner; it is not to be wondered if what is produced thereof bear their image and likeness, as the Visible Species representeth the luminous or coloured Thing from whence it proceedeth. To which if the Imagination also concur, it sends still to the Faetus more Spirits than there were before; which being the Principal Artificers in Formation, imprint a shape or figure upon it like the Body from whence they streamed, and of which themselves partake in some sort; As the Water which issueth out of Pipes, though it spout far, retaineth the form thereof. The strength of which Imagination is too great to doubt of; being such as it is able to change the colour of a Child, and to cause some to be born all hairy, by the sight of the like Objects: Of which the marks which are imprinted on the Bodies of Infants in the womb of their Mothers, through some such Imagination are sufficient proofs, and that in Brutes too.  
The Second said, That indeed this is an Effect of the Imagination, seeing Galen having caused the picture of a white Child to be hanged at the beds-feet of a Moor-Lady, she brought forth a Child of the same colour. And besides the Example of Lahan's sheep, which brought forth streaked young, by reason of the Rods of that colour placed in their drinking-troughs; Experience of Hens, who bring forth white Chickens if they be covered with Linen while they brood, verifieth the same. The way that that Faculty produceth such an Effect is thus. The Animal Spirits which reside in the Brain slide thence into the whole Body, but especially into the Matrice, by reason of the near Sympathy which is between them by the Nerves of the Sixth Conjugation which unite them, and render Women subject to so many several accidents, whereof the field of Nature is too fertile. The Spirits then imprinting their qualities into that solid part, it serves as a mould for the forming of the tender Embryo. Which is not to be understood of Simple Imagination, but of those upon which the Mind maketh a vehement and constant reflection.  
The Third said, That if the Imagination contributed any Thing to the Resemblance, we should see no unhandsome Children. For could a Man beget what he would, he would always make it resemble some fair Idea in his Imagination. Besides, this Faculty can have no influence, saving at the moment of the Act, or during the bearing. Not in the former, for nothing acts upon that which is not. Now the Parts exist not yet during that Act. Not the latter, for the parts are then already formed. It will then be demanded in what time of the bearing this Imagination hath power. If it be said in the former part, it is held that the parts exposed to our view are not then formed, and yet 'tis in those that Resemblance is observed: But in those first days only the Principal pars, viz. The Liver, the Heart, and the Brain are formed. If you will have it to be in the latter days, the Soul being by that time introduced, which is its true form, and imprints upon the body the traces of the Inclinations, it cannot thence forward be susceptible of alterations by a mere fancy. Now that the manners of the Soul follow the External Form of the Body, appears by Physiogmony wholly founded upon that Principle.  
The Fourth argued that the Geniture is the superfluous aliment of the Third Concoction, which proceeding from all the parts of the Body retains the Characters of the same, and imprints them upon the Body of the Embryo; And hence come hereditary diseases, as also the usual Resemblance of Twins: And such is the Law of Nature, that Children resemble their Fathers and Mothers just as Plants do the Plants which produce them. As for the unlikness, it comes usually from the diversity of the Genitures of Father and Mother, which make a Third Temperament; as of the colours yellow and blue mingled together is made a green.  
The Fifth attributed the Cause to the divers Constellations; because seeing all the alterations which happen here below cannot, said he, proceed but from Heaven or the Elements, there is no probability in attributing them to these latter; otherwise they would be both Agents and Patients together: And besides, if the Elements were the Efficient Cause of the Mutations which come to pass in Nature, there would be nothing regular, by reason of their continual Generation and Corruption. Wherefore 'tis to the Heavens that it ought to be ascribed: And as the same Letters put together in the same order make always the same word; So, as often as the principal Planets meet in the same Aspect, and the same Celestial Configuration, the Men that are born under such Constellations, are found alike. Nor is it material to say, (though 'tis true) that the Heavenly Bodies are never twice in the same situation; because if this should happen, it would not be Resemblance longer, but Identity, such as Plato promised in his great Revolution after six and forty thousand years. Besides, there is no one so like to another, but there is always found more difference than conformity.  
The Sixth affirmed, That the same Cause which produceth the likeness of Bodies is also that which rendereth the inclinations of Souls alike, seeing the one is the Index of the other. Thus we see oftimes the manners of Children so expressly imitate those of their Parents of both Sexes, that the same may be more rightfully alleged for an Argument of their Legitimacy, than the External Resemblance alone, which consists only in colour and figure. This makes it doubtful whether we may attribute that Resemblance to the Formative Virtue: Otherwise, being connexed as they are, it would be to assign an Immaterial Effect (as all the operations of the Rational Soul are) to a Material Cause.  
The Seventh ascribed it to the sole vigour or weakness of the Formative Virtue, which is nothing else but the Spirits inherent in the Geniture, and constituting the more pure part of it; The rest serving those Spirits for Matter, upon which they act for the organizing it, and framing a Body thereof. Now every Individual proposing to himself to make his like, he arrives to his End when the Matter is suited and possessed with an Active Virtue sufficiently vigorous; and then this likeness will be not only according to the Specifical Nature and the Essence, but also according to the Individual Nature, and the Accidents which accompany the same. This seems, perhaps, manifest enough in that First Degree of Children to Fathers; but the difficulty is not small, how a later Son that hath no Features of his Father's Countenance comes to resemble his Grandfather or Great Grandfather. The Cause, in my Judgement, may be assigned thus. Though the Geniture of the Ancestor was provided with sufficient Spirits to form a Son like himself, yet it met with a Feminine Geniture abounding with qualities contrary to its own, which infringed its formative virtue, and checked the Action thereof, hindering the Exuberance of its Spirits from attaining to frame such lineaments of the Countenance as Nature intended: or else it met with a Matrice out of due temper by some casual cold, though otherwise both the Genitures were laudably elaborated. For when those Spirits, or Formative Virtue, become chilled and numbed, they shrink and retire into their mass; as he that is cold to his bed; and wanting heat, in which their Activity consists, they remain in a manner buried, and without Action, in reference to this Resemblance: And nevertheless there is left enough to make a Male like to the Father, as to the species. This Son thus formed comes to Age to Generate, and meeting with a Feminine Geniture proportioned to his own in vigour and strength, and a Matrice proper to receive them, those Spirits of his Father, which till then lay dormant, are awakened to Action; and concurring from all parts of the Body suddenly impregnate the Geniture of the Immediate Father, having by their long residence in the corporeal mass been recruited, refined, and elaborated: And as old Wine surpasseth new in strength and vigour of Spirits, because it hath less Phlegm; so those Spirits of the Grandfather having digested all the superfluous Phlegm wherewith those of the Father abound, are more strong than they, and win possession in the Geniture, for the forming and organizing of it according to the shape of the Body from whence they first issued.  
The Eighth said, That he was very backward to believe that any Thing of our Great Grandfathers remaineth in us, seeing it is doubted, upon probable grounds, whether there remaineth in our Old Age any thing of our Childhood; and that the Body of Man, by the continual deperdition of its threefold Substance, Spirits, Humours, and solid parts, is like the ship Argo, which by the successive addition of new matter was the same, and not the same. That he conceived not yet how the Geniture can proceed from all the parts; seeing Anatomy teacheth us, that the Spermatick Veins derive it immediately from the Trunk of the Hollow Vein (Vena Cava) and the Emulgent; and the Arteries from the great Artery, (Aorta) conveying it to be elaborated in the Glandules called Prostatae; from whence it is set on work by Nature. The solid Parts can have no Influence upon it; for what humour or juice is brought to them for their nourishment goeth not away naturally but by sweat, insensible transpiration, and the production of hair. The Spirits are too subtle and dissipable to preserve in themselves a Character, and imprint the same upon any Subject. That Resemblance, in my Judgement, proceedeth from the natural heat which elaborateth and delineateth the Body of the Geniture, and by it the Embryo; First with the general Idea of its species, and then with the accidents which it hath, and which it borroweth from the Matrice, from the menstruous blood, and the other Circumstances requisite to Generation; and when chance pleaseth, there is found a likeness to the Father, Mother, or others. Which Circumstances being alike in the Formation of Twins, cause them to resemble one another; unless when the Particles of the Geniture (which is sufficient for two) are of unlike Natures, and are unequally severed by the natural heat: So that (for Example) the milder and more temperate Particles are shared on one side; and on the other, the more rough and bilious; As it happened in Jacob and Esau, the former of whom was of a sweet, and the other of a savage humour, and then Bodies as different as their Manners. One the contrary, many resemble one another in Countenance, who are nothing at all related; as Augustus and that young Man, who being asked by the Emperor whether his Mother had never been at Rome, answered, No, but his Father had; And the true and false Martin Guerre, who put a Parliament, their Wife, and all their kindred, to a hard task to distinguish them.   

II. Whether Letters ought to be joined with Arms.  
The Second Hour, designed for treating of the Conjunction of Arms and Letters, began with this discourse. That Arms seem not only unprofitable, but contrary to humanity, since their End is the destruction of Man. That among the rest, the Gun, invented by a Monk named Bertol, in the year 1380. hath caused the death of too many persons, not to be in horror to the living; from which the most valiant cannot secure himself: And if they be compared to the studies of humanity, they are so far distant from them, that the Beginning of the one is the End of the other; The clashing of Arms, as Sylla said, hindering attenion to Laws. And comparing them together, that French Hercules who drew men to him with chains of Gold, subdued them much better, winning their Bodies and their Hearts, then that other subduer of Monsters whose victory extended but to the one half. That Archimedes defending Syracuse by his skill against the Army of Marcellus, seems to void the Question. But on the other side, since the point of Wit wins not the Victory now a days, unless it be joined with that of the Sword; And that, on the contrary, Arms command over all; it is certain that a City full of Philosophers, that knew not how to help themselves with Arms, would be taken by a Regiment of Soldiers ignorant of Letters; and that of all the Laws there is none more peremptory than the Gun: Which is signified by that Devise which our Cannons of the new casting have graven upon them, Ratio ultima Regum. Moreover, we see that the Turks (whose Political Maxims are as good for the preservation and increasing of their Empire, as their Religion is bad for the attaining to that of Heaven) excepting what little needs to instruct the few Friars they have in their Mosques, and less the Judges in their Tribunals, scorn all Learning, and teach their people no other Science but Obedience and Contempt of Death. While the Greeks and the Romans did the same each of them got and kept a Monarchy: As on the contrary, their declining happened when their skilfulness in all Sciences was risen to the highest point: Having ceased to do well, when they addicted themselves too much to speak well. So greatly doth Literature intenerate and soften Hearts, effeminating those that apply themselves thereto; whether by their Charm, or by the too great dissipation of Spirits required by the assiduity of Study and Contemplation; which almost draws the Soul out of the Body, and notably weakeneth its ordinary functions. Whence it comes to pass that studious Men have not only their Sight and all other Senses, but also the Members of their Body, more weak, how good soever their natural temper be; which is strengthened by the exercise to which they are obliged who practice other Arts, and especially that of War, an Enemy to Sedentary Life. Nevertheless coming to consider the Advantages which Alexander drew from the precepts of Aristotle; Caesar from his own Eloquence and the Mathematics, for the making of Speeches to his Soldiers, building of Bridges, and besieging of places; That without Astrology, which enabled Christopher Columbus to foresee an Eclipse of the Moon, in the year 1492. whereof he made use to frighten the Americans extremely, his Enterprise had perished: In brief, that that brave King of Sweden, Conqueror during his Life and after his Death, so happily joined Letters to Arms; I conclude for their Conjunction, authorised by that excellent Sentence, That the Nations are happy whose Philosophers are Kings, or whose Kings are Philosophers; and confirmed by the Example which the admirable Government of this Kingdom affordeth.  
The Next said, That if it behoveth to marry the Sciences to Arms, it must be because Learning maketh the Soldier either more honest, or more valiant and courageous, or more dextrous and warlike. Now they have none of these Effects; not the former; For, on the contrary, the most favourable Sentence that can be passed upon Learning, is, to say that it is neither good nor bad of itself, but leaves the Will of the possessor in the same posture that it found it. The most moderate Detractors allege that Knowledge puffeth up; Now Presumption conduceth not much to the Amendment of Life. Others go so far as to maintain, That Simplicity and sweetness of Manners is not found usually with great Learning; according to that Sentence which the Company will permit me to allege in its own Language, Postquam docti prodierunt boni desunt. Moreover S. Paul dissuades us as much as possible from Philosophy, which he calls vain, adding that such as would know too much must be rejected from the Church: And as the Shoemakers are commonly the worst shod, and the richest the most covetous; so they that know the most good are willing to do the least. Now if this be true in persons of the highest form, is it to be hoped that a Soldier whose inclinations are usually not too devout, should become an honester Man after he has studied? But besides, he will become as little valiant and courageous thereby; Reason requiring, that the more a Man knows dangers and inconveniences, the more shy and backward he is to venture amongst them; And Experience showing that the softness of studies is incompatible with the warlike ardour and martial humour. Of which Marius, and other Roman Captains, not ignorant (no more than those at present) did not go to the Schools to choose their Soldiers, but into the Shops and Villages: Which caused Licinius and Valentinian, Emperors of Rome, to say, That their State had no Poison more dangerous than Learning. The Greeks by being too much addicted thereunto, were easily subdued by the Goths, who understood nothing but to kill and burn; and yet were not so ignorant as to take from the Greeks, overcome by them, the use of Learning: for fear lest coming to themselves they might easily shake off their yoke. They left them their Libraries entire, to continue their exercise therein peaceably. So long as the Spartans' flourished, they had no other Academies but of Valour, Prudence, and Justice. The Persians had no other Schools but the practice of Virtue, whereof only the name and definition is known in ours, which afford nothing but unprofitable tattle. Lastly, Study, as 'tis vulgarly practised at this day, instead of rendering a Man better behaved, imprints upon him the manners of the College, insupportable to all the world, and rendering the name of Scholar odious. Few people have less discretion than they; most beggars ask Alms in Latin; and this Language is more common to Bedlam then to any other place.  
The multitude and earnestness of those who vigorously maintained the Cause of Learning, hindered the distinct Recollection of all their Reasons; but they may be reduced to these. Arms destitute of Letters, have more of the Brute then of the Man: the ignorance of danger not deserving the Name of Valour, but that only which sees the danger, and despises it in comparison of the honour which it expects from victory. What a glory would be added to the Gown, if, in imitation of those brave Roman Consuls and Senators, a Precedent or Counsellor were seen carrying the Flower de Luce beyond our Frontiers in the head of an Army, and the other Officers by their Example? Arms making Laws respected, and Laws polishing Arms.  
The Inventions were very different, yea, diametrically opposite; one amongst the rest propounding a way to build an impregnable Fortress, another an Engine to which nothing could resist: And the Matters of the next Conference were the Universal Spirit and Fire.    

CONFERENCE VI.  
I. Of Fire. II. Of the Universal Spirit.  

I. Of Fire.  
UPon the First Subject it was said, That there is no Elementary Fire, and that this Opinion doth not destroy the Four First Qualities; Seeing Heat may be without that Fire, as in the Sun. Moreover, that supposed Elementary Fire cannot be under the Moon. For if it were, the Refraction, or Parallax caused by it, would cause the Stars to be seen in another place than they are, and of different Magnitudes; As the Optics clearly demonstrate to us, and justify by the experiment of a piece of Money put into a Basin, which we behold not, by reason of the interposition of its sides; and yet it appears when you put water into the Vessel: Because the Visual Ray is always broken, and makes an Angle when it passeth through a Medium of differing thickness, as the Air and the Water are; and as the Air and the Fire would be, through which the Stars must be seen; and consequently we should not see them in their true place, when they are out of our Zenith; in which alone the Visual Ray is not broken. But this the Prediction of Eclipses to a set moment, convinceth to be false. In the Third Place, That Fire, being but an Accident cannot be an Element. That it is but an Accident, appears by a combustible Body; in which, for the kindling of Fire, there is nothing else introduced but a great heat. In the Fourth Place, This same Fire being produced by an Accident, as by the Motion of some Body, cannot be a Substance; For Accidents do not produce Substances. Lastly, we are composed of the same Things by which we are conserved, and yet there is no Animal that lives of Fire, as of the other Elements; that which is said of the Flies called Pyraustae being but a Fable. Besides, 'Tis hard to conceive how Fire being in that High Region could concur to all kinds of Generation. And therefore, if there be any Fire that enters into the Composition of mixed Bodies, 'tis only the heat of the Sun which quickens and animates all things.  
As for our common Fire, they say it is light and dry. But for the former, as they do not prove it but by the Sight, which beholds it ascend; so the same Sight sees it descend in a Candle, in Wood, and other Matters, which the Fire consumes from the top to the bottom: And therefore of itself it is indifferent to all Motion, and follows its Aliment upwards, when it mounts thither by its rarefaction, and downwards when the same is detained there by the gravity of its Matter. And though it should ascend above the Air, yet would it not follow from thence that it is light, but only less ponderous than the Air which thrust it out of its place; as the Earth doth the Water, and the Water the Air. Besides, whereas the Fire imparteth ponderosity, as is seen in Calcined Lead, it cannot be said to be Light. Next, to say that Fire is dry, I account not less strange. For it cannot have Siccity, since it introduceth it not actually into Bodies; but when it drieth any humid Body it doth nothing else but take away its humidity, which being separated from that Body, it remains in the Siccity which was there before, (but appeared not by reason of the predominancy of its humidity;) and consequently is not introduced anew by the Fire. Besides, by the definition which Aristotle gives of Humid, (viz. That it is that which is easily containd'n in an other, but hardly in itself,) the Fire should be more humid than the Air, yea, then water itself.  
The Second said, That Fire is neither Element nor Substance. For Qualities are perceived by every Thing's manifesting those of the Element predominant in it, and whereof it is composed. Terrestrial Bodies, as Stones, Metals, and Minerals, are actually cold and dry to the touch. Aquatick, as Fish and Fruits, are cold and moist. Aerial, as Oil and Wood, indifferent, sometimes hot, sometimes cold, according to the disposition of the place where they are. Animals alone are actually hot, but they derive that heat solely from the Soul. We see nothing in the World actually hot of its own Nature. Why then should we establish an Element, of which we can have no tidings? As we have of the other Elements, of which some would make it a companion; contrary to the Maxim, which alloweth not, That Entities be multiplied in Nature without Necessity. 'Tis of no validity to object the actual heat of Mineral Waters. For the least Curious know the cause thereof to be this; that those Waters passing through Mines of Sulphur or Bitumen, imbibe the Spirits thereof; which by the Motion of the Water are heated accidentally: As appears in that being taken out of their own place, they presently lose that heat; which shows that this heat is no part of them, but is derived elsewhere. Moreover that Sublunary Fire would be to no purpose. For either it would descend to enter into the composition of Things with the rest, or not. If it descend, that is against its Nature, which is (as they commonly say) light, and always tending upwards; besides it would consume all by its great Activity. If it descend not, it would be unprofitable to the World, and so not Element. For neither Man, nor the other mixed Substances which are generated, go to seek it in the Circle of the Moon. Besides, Generations are made without it by the heat of the Sun. For, in the First Place, Humidity is requisite thereto, for the uniting and binding together of the Matter, which otherwise would be dust; and that Humidity the Air or the Water affordeth. In the Second Place, such Matter, united by Humidity, is made close, firm, and compact, by the coldness of Water, the propriety of which is to congeal. In the Third Place, the dryness which the Earth contributes gives it a consistence and permanent hardness; And, lastly, the heat alone of the Sun digests all this together, and unites it very perfectly without need of any other Fire. I confess, indeed, that we have Fire, but it never enters into the composition of Natural Things; nor ever was it a Substance, because Two Substantial Forms cannot be in the same Subject; and yet the true form of Fire is in a hot Iron, together with the Substantial Form of the Iron: Which shows that Fire is but an Accidental Form, which is consistent with the Substantial, as the Servant with her Mistress. Moreover (according to Aristotle, l. 2. Of Generation and Corruption.) Fire is nothing else but an execess of heat, which is a mere Accident, as well in its little degrees, as in its excesses; More and less making no change in the species. Our Fire then is an excessive heat, which adheres to Things that have some crass and oleaginous humour in them, and continues there by a continual efflux and successive Generation, without any permanence, like the Water of a River; which Heat lasts so long till that humour be consumed. If it be said that it ascends upwards seeking its own place, I answer, that 'tis the Exhalation that carries it up; yea, that it descends too; as we see in a Candle blown out, and still smoking, if it be held beneath another burning one, the flame descendeth along the smoke, and lighteth it again▪ So that the Fire is indifferent of itself where it goes, for it lets itself be governed and carried by the Exhalation. And it appears further, That Fire is less subtle than Air; for flame is not transparent, and it engendereth soot, which is very gross.  
The Third added, That indeed Fire cannot be a Substance, because it hath a Contrary, viz. The Water. Besides, every Substantial Form preserves its own Matter, and acts not against it; but Fire destroys its own. Moreover, a certain degree of some Quality is never necessary to a Substantial Form; as the Earth ceaseth not to be Earth, though it be less cold or dry; and so of the rest: But Fire cannot be Fire, unless the supreme degree of heat be in it. Add hereunto, that Fire may be produced in a Substance without corrupting it, as we see in a Flint, or a burning Bullet: Now a Substantial Form is not produced in a Subject, till the preceding be destroyed; the Generation of the one being the corruption of the other. Lastly, Every substance produceth, by way of Generation, an indivisible substantial Form; But Fire produceth a divisible Quality: For that which was cold becometh first warm, then hot, and by degrees becometh Fire; which cannot be with a mixture of cold, non consist therewith, unless as degrees of qualities.  
The Fourth said, That Fire is a most perfect Element, hot and dry; according to Aristotle, of the most perfect form and activity of all the Elements; according to Plato, the principal instrument of Nature; according to Empedocles, the Father of Things. Whence it was that the Assyrians adored it. The Persians carried it out of Honour before their Kings, and at the head of their Armies. The Romans made so great account of it, that they assigned it to the care of certain Virgins to be kept immortal. Pythagoras believed it to be an Animal, because it is nourished as Animals, and for want of Aliment dies; And because a lighted Torch being cast into the Water, the Fire extinguishing, sendeth forth such a noise as Animals do at the gasps of Death. But he esteemed its natural place to be the Centre of the Subterranean World. Whence it is (said he) that we see so many Volcanoes, and other Fires issue out of the entrails of the Earth; as those of Monte Vesuvio, in the Kingdom of Naples, Monte Gibello, (formerly Aetna) in Sicily, and Monte Hecla in Iseland, and so many other burning Mountains.  
The Fifth said, That as the Sea is the Principle from whence all the Waters come, and the end whether they return; So the Sun is the Element of Fire, from whence all other Fires come, and whether at length they reascend as to their Source. 1. For that all Effects, Qualities, and Properties of Fire, agree particularly to the Sun; seeing he heats, burns, dries, and is the cause of all the Generations that are made here below. 2. Because the Elements stay in their natural places. Now the Fire not only ascendeth from the Subterraneous places where it is detained, by reason of a sulphureous and bituminous Matter which serves it for food, but it passeth also beyond the Heavens of the Moon, Mercury and Venus, as appears by Comets which are igneous, and particularly by that which appeared in the year 1618. acknowledged by all the Astronomers, upon the reasons of Optics, to have been above the said places.  
The Sixth denied, That the Sun can be the Element of Fire. 1. Because 'tis a Celestial and Incorruptible Body, and by consequence not Igneous or Elementary. 2. If all Fires come from the Sun, it will follow that all his rays are Igneous Bodies; for there cannot be imagined other Fires to come from the Sun hither, but his beams. Now the Sunbeams are neither Bodies nor Igneous. Not Bodies, since Illumination and Eradiation being made in an instant, it will follow that a Body cometh from Heaven to Earth in a Moment: Which is absurd, because No Motion is made in an instant. Besides, being those Rays penetrate Glass, and such other solid and diaphanous Bodies, there would be a penetration of Dimensions, which is impossible. Nor are they Igneous, seeing Fire being of its own nature light, descendeth not; but the beams of the Sun descend down hither. Moreover, Fire is actually hot, but the Sunbeams are only so in power, viz. when they are reflected by an opake body; as appears in the Middle Region of the Air, where it is colder than upon the Earth, though its beams are nearer. Wherefore it is more reasonable to hold to the common opinion, which placeth the Fire immediately under the Heaven of the Moon. For there is no fear, that that Fire, how great soever, can burn the World, it's here being allayed and dulled by the extreme humidity of the Air its Neighbour, and by the great coldness of the same Air, which is in the Middle Region; and counterchecketh that heat, which on one side hath already lost its violence and acrimony by its natural Rarity. Nor is there any trouble to be taken for its nourishment; for being in its own Centre and Empire it hath no enemies nor contraries, and needeth no food for its support, as our common Fire doth. What if we behold it not? 'Tis not because there is none, but because it is so rare and so pure that it cannot fall within the perception of our Senses: As there is such a thing as Air, though we see it not. How many Colours, Odours, Sapours, and Sounds are there which we never knew? And as for what is observed in a Candle newly put out, it is clear that the Fire descendeth not to it, but inflameth the unctuous Matter which it toucheth, and this the next, even to the Candle from whence that Matter proceedeth.   

TWO Of the Universal Spirit.  
Upon the Second Point, it was said, That it must First be known what is meant by Universal Spirit. 2. Whether there be one. 3. What it is. As for the First, By the word Universal Spirit, is understood some universal cause and principle of all the actions and motions which are made in Generation. Just as they assign one same First Matter, for the Subject of all Forms, so they speak of an Universal Form, which contains all the rest in itself, and causes them to act and move in the Matter rightly disposed.  
As for the Second, Like as they argue, that the world is finite, round, and corruptible, because its parts are so; So also it may be said that the world hath a Spirit which enlivens it, since all its principal parts have a particular one for their Conservation, Action, and Motion; the parts being of the same Nature with the whole. This Universal Spirit is proved by the impotency of the Matter, which of itself having no activity or principle of Life and Motion, needeth some other to animate and quicken it. Now particular Forms cannot do that, for than they would be principles of that Virtue, that is to say, principles of themselves, which is impossible. Wherefore there must be some Superior Form, which is the Universal Spirit, the principle of Action and Motion, the Uniter of the Matter and the Form, the Life of all Nature, and the Universal Soul of the World. Whence it may confidently be affirmed, that the World is animated; but with what Soul or Spirit is the difficulty. For if we prove by Local Motion, or by that of Generation, that a Plant or Animal are animated, why may we not say the same of all the World, since its more noble and principal parts afford evidence thereof? As for the Heaven and the Stars, they are in continual Motion, which the more ●ober Opinion at this day confesseth to produce from their Internal Form, rather than from the Intelligences which some would have fastened to the Spheres, as a Potter to his wheel. The Sun, besides his own Motion, which some call in controversy, gives Life to all things by his heat and influences. The Air, Water, and Earth, afford also instances of this Life in the production and nourishing of Plants and Animals. Thus the principal parts being animated, this sufficeth for the Denomination of the whole; seeing even in Man there are found some parts not animated, as the Hair and the Nails.  
As for the Last Point, which is to know what this Universal Soul is, there are many Opinions. The Rabbins and Cabalists say that it is the RVAH ELOHIM, that is, the Spirit of God which moved upon Waters. Trismegistus saith, that it is a Corporeal Spirit, or a Spiritual Body; and elsewhere calleth it the Blessed GreenWood, or the Green Lion, which causeth all things to grow. Plato affirmeth it to be the Ideas; The Peripatetics, a certain Quintessence above the Four Elements. Heraclitus, and after him the Chemists, that it is a certain Aethereal Fire. For my part, I conceive, that if by this Spirit they mean a thing which gives Life, and Spirit, and Motion to all, which is found every where, and on which all depends, there is no doubt but 'tis the Spirit of God; or rather God himself, in whom and through whom we live and move. But if we will seek another in created Nature, we must not seek it elsewhere then in that corporeal creature which hath most resemblance with the Deity; The Sun, who more lively represents the same than any other, by his Light, Heat, Figure, and Power. And therefore the Sun is that Spirit of the World, which causeth to move and act here below all that hath Life and Motion.  
The Second said, That that Soul is a certain common Form diffused through all things which are moved by it; as the wind of the Bellows maketh the Organs to play, applying them to that whereunto they are proper, and according to their natural condition. So this Spirit with the Matter of Fire maketh Fire, with that of Air maketh Air, and so of the rest. Some give it the name of Love, for that it serves as a link or tie between all Bodies, into which it insinuates itself with incredible Subtlety; which Opinion will not be rejected by the Poets and the Amorous, who attribute so great power to it.  
The Third said, That the Soul being the First Act of an Organical Body, and the word Life being taken only for Vegetation, Sensation, and Ratiocination, the world cannot be animated; since the Heavens, the Elements, and the greatest part of Mixed Bodies want such a Soul and such Life. That the Stoics never attributed a Soul to this world, but only a Body, which by reason of its Subtlety is called Spirit; and for that it is expanded through all the parts of the world, is termed Universal, which is the cause of all Motions, and is the same thing with what the Ancients called Nature, which they defined the Principle of Motion. The reason of the Stoics, for this Universal Spirit, is drawn from the Rarefaction and Condensation of Bodies. For if Rarefaction be made by the insinuation of an other subtle Body, and Condensation by its pressing out, it follows that since all the Elements and mixed Bodies are rarified and condensed, there is some Body more subtle than those Elements and mixts, which insinuating itself into the parts rarefies them and makes them take up greater space; and going forth is the Cause that they close together, and take up less. Now Rarefaction is always made by the entrance of a more subtle Body, and Condensation by its going out. This is seen in a very thick Vessel of Iron or Brass, which being filled with hot Water, or heated Air, and being well stopped, if you set it into the cold, it will condense what is contained therein, which by that means must fill less space than before: Now either there must be a Vacuum in the Vessel, which Nature abhorreth, or some subtle Body must enter into it, which comes out of the Air or the Water which fills that space; Which Body also must be more subtle than the Elements which cannot penetrate through the thickness of the Vessel. There is also seen an Instance of this in the Sunbeams, which penetrate the most solid Bodies, if they be never so little diaphanous, which yet are impenetrable by any Element how subtle soever.  
And because a great part of the Hour designed for Inventions was found to have slipped away, during the Reciprocation of other reasons brought for and against this opinion; some curiosities were only mentioned, and the examination of them referred to the next Conference. In which it was determined, first to treat of the Air, and then to debate that Question, Whether it is expedient in a State to have Slaves.    

CONFERENCE VII.  
I. Of the Air. II. Whether it be best for a State to have Slaves.  

I. Of the Air.  
THe First said, That he thought fit to step aside a little out of the ordinary way, not so much to impugn the Maxims of the School, as to clear them; and that for this end he proprosed, That the Air is not distinguished from the Water, because they are changed one into the other. For what else are those Vapours which are drawn up from the Water by the power of the Sun, and those which arise in an Alembic, or from boiling Water, if we do not call them Air? Now those Vapours are nothing but Water rarified and subtilised by heat; as also when they are reduced into Water by condensation, this Water is nothing but Air condensed: And so Air and Water differ not but by Rarefaction and Condensation, which are but Accident; and consequently cannot make different species of Element. Both the one and the other may be seen in the Aeolipila of Vitruvius, out of which the heat of Fire causeth the Water which is therein to issue in the form of Air and an impetuous wind; which is the very Image of that which Nature ordinarily doth. I conceive also that the Air is neither hot, nor moist, nor light, as Philosophers commonly hold. For as to the First, the Air is much more cold than hot, and for one torrid Zone there are two cold. Besides, Heat is but Accidental to it, being caused by the incidence and reflections of the rays of the Sun; So that this cause failing in the night, when the Sun shines not; or in Winter when its rays are very oblique, and their reflection weak; or in the Middle Region, whether the Reflection reacheth not, the Air becometh cold, and consequently in its natural quality, since there is no External Cause that produceth that coldness. As for the Second, The Air drieth more than it moisteneth; and if it moisteneth, it is when it is cold and condensed, and consequently mixed with many particles of Water; and when it drieth, it is by its own heat. For the Definition which Aristotle giveth of Humid and Moist, is only proper to every thing which is fluid and not stable, and in this respect agrees to the Air which is fluid, and gives way to all sorts of Bodies. As for the Last, which is its levity, the harmony of the world by which all things conspire to union, and so to one common Centre, seemeth to contradict it. For if the Air hath its Motion from the Centre, the parts of the world might be disunited; For the Air would escape away, there being no restraint upon it by any External Surface. Moreover, if we judge the Air light because we see it mount above water, we must also say that Wax and Oil are light, since we observe the same in them. But that which they do is not mounting above the Water, but being repelled by the Water: And so the principal of Motion being External, the same is violent and not natural. Whereas when the Air descends into the Well, it descends thither naturally, there being no External Cause of that descent. For Vacuum, not existing in Nature, cannot produce this Effect; Since, according to the received Maxim, Of a Thing which is not there can be no Actions. Besides it would be it self-cause of its own destruction, and do contrary to its own intention, preserving Nature by this Action; whereas it is an Enemy to it, and seeketh the ruin thereof. Lastly, Since many Particles of Air being condensed and pressed together, give ponderosity to a thing, as is seen in a Baloon or football, it must needs be ponderous itself; for many light Bodies joined together are more light.  
The Second said, That the difference between Water and Air is as clear as either of those Elements; For that the Vapours which arise from the Water by means of the Sun's heat, and the wind which issueth out of the abovesaid Vessel full of Water, and placed upon the Fire, cannot be called Air, saving abusively: But they are mixts, actually composed of Water and Fire. For the rays of the Sun entering into the Water, raise it into Vapour; And the Fire insinuating itself by the Pores of the Vessel into the Water which it containeth, causeth the same to come forth in the form of wind, which is composed of Fire and Water; Of Fire, because the property of Fire being to mount on high, it lifts up that subtilised Water with itself; Of Water, because this Vapour hath some coldness and humidity; whence meeting with a solid Body it is resolved into Water, because the Fire alone passeth through the Pores of that Body. Besides, Water being moist, and Air on the contrary dry, as the precedent opinion importeth, they cannot be the same thing. And since all Alteration is made between two different things, Water and Air, transmuting one into another, as it hath been said, cannot be the same. Lastly, as there are two Elements, whereof one is absolutely light, as the Fire, the other absolutely heavy, as the Earth; So there are two which are such, but in comparison with the rest. The Water compared with the Earth is light, because it floateth above it: The Air in comparison of the Water is light too, because it is above it. So that when it descendeth lower than the Water into the Caverns of the Earth, 'tis Nature that obligeth it to renounce its proper and particular interest for preserving the general one, which is destroyed by the Vacuum; not that the Vacuum is the Cause thereof, for it hath no existence. And the Air wherewith the Baloon is filled rendereth the same more heavy, because it is impure and mixed with gross Vapours; Which it would not do, were it pure and Elementary, such as is that of which we are speaking, which is not to be found in our Region. The Common Opinion hath also more probability, which holdeth that the Air is hot and moist; Hot, because it is rare and light, which are effects of heat; Moist because it is difficultly contained within its own bounds, and easily within those of another; Thence it is that the more Bodies partake of Air, the more they have of those qualities; As we see in Oil, which is hot, being easily set on flame; And Moist, in that it greatly humecteth, and easily expandeth itself on all sides. But if the Air seems sometimes to be cold, 'tis by accident, by reason of the cold vapours wherewith it is filled at that time.  
The Third said, That he conceived that contrarily the Air is cold and dry. 1. Because it freezeth the Earth and Water in Winter, and therefore is colder in either of them. 2. Because it refresheth the Lungs, and by its coolness tempereth the extreme heat of the Heart and of the other parts: which it could not do if it were hot. 3. Inasmuch as hot things exposed to the Air are cooled, which they would not be, but at least preserve their heat being in a place of the same Nature. 4. The more it is agitated the more it refresheth (as we see by Fans) because then the unessential things being separated from it, it is more close and united; quite contrary to the other Elements, which grow hot by being agitated. 5. In the night time, the more pure and serene and void of mixtures the Air is, the colder it is. 6. Thence it is that flame burns less than boiling water or hot Iron, because in flame there is a great deal of Air, which being colder than Water and Iron represseth more the strength of the Fire. Lastly, since, according to Aristotle, Air doth not putrify, (what is said of its corruption, being taken improperly) it is for that it is cold and dry; both these qualities being Enemies to putrefication; As, on the contrary, Hot and Moist are friends to it, and the usual ways that lead thereunto. Wherefore, if the Air were hot and moist, it would putrify incessantly. Besides it would be easily inflamed being so near Neighbour to the Elementary Fire, which could have no food more proper than it.  
The Fourth said, 'Tis true, all Antiquity believed the Air supremely, moist and moderately hot. 1. For salving the Harmony of the Universe, the Air becoming symbolical with the Fire by its heat, and with the water by its moisture. 2. Because we see Heat produceth Air, which thence must have affinity of Nature with its progenitor. 3. It is light, and by consequence hot. 4. Experience showeth us this in Winter time in subterraneous places, where the Air is hot; because the external cold, stopping the pores of the Earth, hinders the spirits of the enclosed Air from evaporating, and so it remains hot. But to the First Reason it is answered, That the Air, without being hot, sufficiently maketh good its party in the Harmony of the Universe; for by its humidity alone it symbolizeth with the Water and the Celestial Heat, as is seen in Animals, wherein Moist and Hot make so useful a Mass. To the Second, That Heat produceth vapour too, which is cold. To the Third, That this cold vapour is light as well as a hot exhalation. To the Fourth, Experience is opposed to Experience. For in Summer the Air is cold in the Cavities of the Earth, as well as hot there in the Winter: Which proceedeth not from the Air, but from the sense; which whereas it ought to be void of the qualities of the object, is here prepossesed therewith. The Moderns affirm with more probability that the Air is cold. 1. Because in the Middle Region (where it is left in its proper Nature) it is such. 2. In the Northern parts remote from the Sun, its rigour hath such effect as to freeze the Sea, and even in our Countries we are sensible in Winter of the Sun, and yet in clear weather of great Frosts; To which it is answered: 1. That the Middle Region of the Air is not so cold of its own Nature, but by reason of the vapours which refrigerate it uniformly every where, though those vapours ascend not equally from the Water, but more in one place then in an other; just as the heat of the Fire which is directly under the middle of the bottom of a great Cauldron, yet heats it on all sides equally and uniformly. Also the coldness of the Air in the Northern parts, and in our Country, must necessarily be ascribed to a Constellation which is made when some Star exerteth a cold influence, and is not repressed by the Sun, who then emits his rays slopingly, and hath not reverberation strong enough from the Earth. This is proved by the Thaw, which is from the influence, (not of the Sun, for he is too weak; and it sometimes happens when he is less elevated above our Horizon, but) of some hot Star, which gaineth the ascendant over the cold. And indeed we see a Frost and a Thaw happen without any foregoing mutation in the Air, at least, that is sensible. I conceive then that the Air is neither hot nor cold, but indifferent to both. What it hath actual is its humidity, from whence it deriveth its great mobility. The reason is, for that the Air is the Universal Medium of all natural Actions, and the general interposer in all the transactions of Agents and Patients; for which office it ought not to be an Enemy to any of them. Now of Agents the most powerful are Heat and Cold. When Heat acts it consignes its impression to the Air to transfer the same by Propagation to the subject upon which it acts. But if the Air were Cold, instead of faithfully keeping and delivering the impression of Heat, it would abate and destroy it. On the contrary, if it were Hot, it would destroy the Cold Body which acteth, instead of assisting it in its action: Just as the Crystalline humour which serves as a Medium to the sight, hath naturally no colour, lest otherwise the Case would be the same as in coloured glass, through which all objects that are seen borrow its colour; Or as in the Tongue, whose Taste being depraved, it judgeth all things bitter. But the Air being only Humid, is the common friend of both parties; For Moist symbolising both with Hot and Cold, fights against neither. The Air than is that Humid Substance which taketh no other figure, bounds, or enclosure, then that of the Bodies which environ it; for the becoming most obedient, to which it hath an incomparable Mobility, Fluidity, and Flexibility; Which being consistent only in a Humid Substance, it is by Humidity alone as its essential propriety actuated and informed.   

II. Whether it is best for a State to have Slaves.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That Servitude is opposite to Dominion, which is of Two sorts; Despotical or Sovereign, and Political or Civil. The former is absolute, and with pure and full Authority commands without being liable to be asked a reason; For the pleasure of the Commander is one. The Latter oft times receives check in its course by the right which inferiors have to remonstrate, and also in certain Cases to declare to the Command. Such is that of a Master over a workman, or a hired domestic that is voluntarily subject for certain wages and time; and of this the Question now is not. The former is contrary to natural Law, introduced only by that of Nations: For all Men being equal by Nature, there is no Natural Reason for rendering one person slave to an other. Nevertheless Servitude may be termed Natural, being founded upon the inequality of the sufficiencies and abilities of Men; Some being born with Organs so nimble and pliant, that their Mind acts almost Divinely; Others are so dull, that the Soul seems mired in a slough. Moreover such as are made to obey have usually robust Bodies; And others born to command have weak and tender, as more suitable and fit for the functions of the Mind.  
This being premised, There is furthermore an Absolute Good, and a Relative. The Absolute is such in itself, and of its own essence, without borrowing elsewhere the reason of its goodness. The other is Derivative, and hath nothing but by relation to some other. Extreme Servitude or Slavery cannot be an Absolute Good, since it is contrary to Natural Right. But it is a Relative Good, in the first place, to the Slaves: For 'tis an exchange, made by the conquerors Clemency, of Death into Servitude, to the benefit of the Captives; whose condition is better in living Servants then in dying Freemen. 2. 'Tis a Good to the Commonwealth; For as God draws Good out of Evil, so doth the Public Service from those whom it might have put to death, and would not. 3. Their Example, and the terrible prospect of their condition, holds such in duty as Vice would otherwise drive on to the perpetration of mischief.  
An other said, That Slavery is an Institution of the law of nations, by which one is, contrary to Nature, subjected to the Dominion of another; Which Dominion, before the Emperor Antoninus Pius, extended to Life and Death; But since that power hath been restrained, so that he that grievously outraged his Slave was forced to sell him. But if he killed him he incurred the same penalty as if he had slain the Servant of another: It being for the good of the Commonwealth, that none abuse even what belongeth to himself. Since that time the Master had absolute Power over his Slave, to employ him in all kind of work, as he pleased, to hire him forth and draw profit by him; and in case of nonobedience to chastise him more or less according to the attrocity of his crime; Provided that there followed not thereby mutilation of Members. He hath also Power to alienate him, and that Power is extended likewise to the Children which happen to be begotten by him during the servitude. The Slave also cannot acquire any thing, but it is his Master's. Nor can he complain of his master, or forsake him for having been lightly punished: But he may for mortal Hunger, or grievous Contumely; as if the Master offer to force his Slave, in which case the Slave [of either Sex] running to the Temples, Sepulchers, and Statues, which served them for Sanctuary, aught to be sold, and his price paid to the Master. Now there are Four sorts of Slaves: The First and most ancient are such as have been taken in war, who of Freemen, (as they were before) being conquered become in the power of the Conquerors. The Second are those who having deserved Death are condemned to the punishment of the Galleys, Common-shores, and public works, and anciently to the Mines and Mills: (in which Mines the Spaniards at this day employ the Americans) And they are called Forcats, or Slaves of punishment. The Third are those who being unable to satisfy their Creditors by reason of their poverty, are sold with their own consent, and pay the price of their liberty to be acquitted by them, that so they may avoid the cruelty of the said Creditors, who had to dismember them. These three sorts of Servants became such, having before been freemen. But the Fourth sort is of those that are such by Nature, and are born Servants, being descended from a Slave. Now, in my Judgement, 'tis fitting to introduce and retain these four sorts of Servitude in a State, since they are very natural and reasonable. For besides that there are Men who are born to command, others to obey; It seems that Servitude having been from the Beginning of the World, and presently after the Deluge, when Noah cursing Canaan his younger Son, pronounced him Servant of the Servants of his Brethren: And being as ancient, yea ancienter than the foundation of States and Empires; and having been approved by ancient Lawgivers and wise Politicians, and by God himself, it cannot be esteemed but reasonable and natural. For in the First Place, What is so just and so suitable to the Law of Nature, [The First, containing only Marriages, Procreation, and Education of Children] as to give life to him whom you may justly deprive thereof, to feed him and clothe him; And in exchange for so many benefits to make use of him and of all that he can earn, and to make him return to his duty by some moderate punishments in case he recede from it? Which is the advice of Aristotle in his Economics, where he saith, That a good Father of a Family ought to give Three Things to his Servants, viz. Work, Food, and Discipline. I conceive it also less unsuitable to Nature, yea to Christianity, to make use of Criminals then to put them to death; If Example, for which principally they are punished, will permit: And also instead of sending so many stout men to the Gallows for common crimes, or putting them to the Sword (as they do in War) to put them to the chain for the service of the public, either for labouring in Buildings, Cloisters, and Fortificatlons of Cities, repairing of ways, cleansing of Streets, Towing of Boots, drawing of Chariots, labouring in Highways, Mines, and other public works, after the Galleys are furnished them. Possibly too, it would not be unmeet that he who is so indebted that he cannot satisfy his Creditors, should instead of suffering himself to lie rotting in Goal, pay with the Service of his Body what he cannot in Money: But it would be fit to use a difference therein. And as for those that are born of Slaves, is there any thing more ours then such fruits grown within our walls and sprung from our own stock?  
The Last opposed, that it is difficult for an Absolute Dominion to keep any measure. Witness Quintus Flaminius, a Roman Senator, who killed his Slave to content the curiosity which a Bardash of his had to see what aspect a Man hath when he is dying. Besides, if there be any place where Liberty ought to carry the Cause, (were not Christian Brotherhood alone sufficient,) it is France, of which the privilege is such, that the Slaves of any part of the world, only setting their foot therein, obtain their freedom immediately.  
The Inventions propounded were the Experiment of Vitruvius' Aeolipila, that of walking under the Water; and the Subjects of the next Conference; The First, Water; the Second, Wine, and Whether it be necessary in War.    

CONFERENCE VIII.  
I. Of Water. II. Of Wine, and whether it be necessary for Soldiers.  

I. Of Water.  
THe Discourse upon the First Point began with the division of the qualities of Water into First and Second; alleging that the First, viz. Cold and Moist, are so manifest that it is difficult to deny them: Cold, because Water being heated returns presently to its natural coldness; Moist, because it moisteneth more than any other Element, and is not contained within its own bounds. But its Second, and the proprieties resulting from them, are so numerous, that they justly administer ground to the doubt which is raised; Whence proceedeth the cause of so many Varieties in Colour, Taste, Odour, and the other Objects of the Senses. Possibly one may assign the cause of the Water's Whiteness to the Mines of Plaster; Of its Blackness to those of Iron or Stones of the same colour; The Red, to those of Cinnabar; The Green, to those of Copper; The Blue, to those of Silver; The Yellow, to those of Orpiment; The Hot, to Sulphur; The Acid, to Vitriol; The Stinking, to Bitumen. But that some parts of the Sea and Rivers abound with Fish, and that with certain kinds, and others not; That the Water of some Springs is converted into Stone, and all that is cast thereinto; Others, (as they say) make Women fruitful or barren; Some, as it is reported of the Fortunate Islands, cause weeping; Others, dying with laughter: That some pass through others without mixing therewith; That others are so ponderous, that no Body whatsoever can sink to the bottom; Some, on the contrary, are so light, that nothing can swim upon them; and infinite other such proprieties: 'Tis that which seems to surpass ordinary Ratiocination. Of this kind is that which is said of a certain River in Sicily, the Water whereof cannot be brought to mingle with Wine, unless it be drawn by a chaste and continent Woman. To which was added, for a conclusion, that if the Water of Seine had this property, we should be many times in danger of drinking our Wine unmixed.  
The Second said, That nothing could be more natural and methodical then to treat of Water after Air. For as in the Composition of a Mixed Body, the moisture which is predominant in the Air unites and knits the matters which are to be mixed; So the Cold which predominates in the Water closes them and gives them consistence. And as in Drawing and Painting, the Embroiderer and Painter passeth not from one light colour to another without some intermediate one, but he loseth the same insensibly in another more duskish; out of which the bright breaketh forth again by little and little to the middle of his ground: So Nature doth not pass immediately from the extreme humidity which is in the Air, to the extreme coldness which is in the Water; but causeth that the moisture of the former abateth its great vigour at the approach of the moisture which is in the Water in a weak and remiss degree, before it meet with the Cold of the Water whereunto it is to be joined; Without which humidity of the Water in a weak and remiss degree, the Cold could not compact the parts which the moisture united. So that this humidity is found in two Subjects, one subtle, which is the Air, the other more gross, which is the Water. As it happens also in the Fire, which is partly in a rare Subject, namely the fat and unctuous vapour, whereby it flameth, and (partly) in another solid and gross, which is Wood, Iron, or Coal. As Flame, it is more apt to shine and burn, penetrating the pores of the wood to find its Aliment there, which is the interior Oil; As Coal it acts more powerfully, and is more durable. So if there were in the Mixed Body no other humidity but that of the Air, the same inconvenience would befall it that doth a Conqueror, who having subdued a Country reserveth no place of Retreat for the keeping thereof; For at the first opposition which he meeteth he is constrained to let go his hold: So if moisture were not in the Air, it would indeed penetrate the Compounded Bodies still, as it doth as readily; but it would, suddenly dislodge again, if it had not its refuge in the Water which is more proper to preserve it.  
The Third said, That Water cannot be cold in the highest degree. First, because if it were so, it could generate nothing; Cold being an Enemy to all Generation, because it locketh up the particles within; As, on the contrary, Heat is the Proximate Cause thereof, by the extension and attraction which it causeth outwards. Nevertheless, we see Plants and Animals in the Waters. Secondly, If it were so cold, being moist too, it would be always frozen; since according to Aristotle, Ice is nothing but an excess of coldness with moisture. Thirdly, Those qualities which are attributed to Water are common to many other things besides; As to the Air, when it is cold: and do not necessarily belong to it, but may be separated from it; since, remaining Water still, it may become hot by the Fire, and frozen by the Air, and so be found destitute of its fluidity and humidity. If it be said, That it loseth not its qualities but by accident, and that of its own Nature it is cold; I answer, That the Natural and Necessary Proprieties of Things, proceeding immediately from their Essence, (such as those of Water are held to be) cannot be taken from them but by Miracle: And on the contrary, That it is not cold but by the vicinity of the cold Air which encompasseth it, and not of its own Nature; Whence the surface of the Water is cold in Winter, and sometimes frozen, the bottom remaining warm. And therefore the Fish do not come much to the upper part of the Water in Winter, but stay below, where it is in its own Nature, and is not so easily altered with foreign qualities. Moreover, since we know the Qualities of a Thing by its Effects, the Effect of Water being, even in the Judgement of Sense, to moisten more than any of the Elements, it ought to be held the Chief or First Humid Body. If it be said that it moisteneth more than the Air, because it is more gross and compact (as hot Iron burneth more than flame;) I answer, That although it may owe that humidity to the thickness of its Matter, yet the same is not the less essential to it, since Matter is one part of the Element; And besides, it proceedeth from the Form too, since it can never be separated from it; Water always necessarily moistening whilst it is Water. Which cannot be said of its coldness: for when it is warm it doth not lose its name of Water, though it be no longer cold; but it is always moist.  
The Fourth said, That, to speak properly Water, is never hot in itself; but 'tis the Fire insinuating and mingling itself with the little Particles of the Water that we feel hot; and accordingly that Fire being evaporated, the Water not only returneth to its natural quality, but also the Fire leaving its pores more open renders them more accessible to the Air, which freezes the same in Winter sooner than it would do otherwise. And this is no more than as Salt and Sulphureous Waters are made such by the Salt and Sulphur mingled therewith; Which being separated from them, they lose also the taste thereof. And as Wine mingled with Water is still truly Wine, and hath the same Virtue as before, though its activity be repressed by the power of the Water; So Water mingled with Salt, Sulphur, and Fire, is true Water, and hath intrinfecally the same qualities as before that mixture; though indeed its action be retarded, and its qualities be checked and rebated by the other contraries which are more powerful. In like manner, Water is not cold of itself, but by the absence of Fire; As it happens in Winter, that the igneous beams of the Sun not staying upon the Water, it persisteth cold, and so that coldness is but a privation of heat; As appears in the shivering of an Ague, which proceedeth from the retiring of the natural heat inwards, and deserting the external parts. But if there happen a total privation of those igneous parts, which are infused into it mediately or immediately by the Sun, than it becometh frozen: And because those fiery Particles occupied some space in its Body, it is now straitened, and takes less room than before. Whence Water freezing in Vessels well stopped, the same break for the avoidance of Vacuum. Moreover, Humidity is not one of its essential proprieties, because it may be separated from it, as we see in frozen water, which is less humid than when it was cold. It follows then, that Second Qualities being Tokens of the First, and the goodness of Water requiring that it have the least weight that can be, as also that it have neither Taste nor Smell; the most pure, (i. e. the Elementary, of which we are speaking) is without First Qualities; having been created by God only to be the band or tie of the other parts of a mixed body.  
The Fifth said, That the Scripture divideth the Waters into those which are above the Heavens, and those upon the Earth; as if to teach us that Water is the Centre, the Middle, and the end of the Universe. Which agrees with the opinion of those who establish it for the Sole Principle of all things. Those Supercoelestial Waters are proved by the Etymology of the word for Heavens, Schamaim, which signifies in Hebrew, There are Waters: Because 'tis said that God divided the Waters from the Waters, and placed them above the Firmament: Which Supercoelestial Waters are also invited by the Psalmist to bless the Lord: And lastly, because it is said that at the time of the Deluge the windows of Heaven were opened.  
The Sixth said, That the gravity of those Supercoelestial Waters would not suffer them to remain long out of the place destinated to that Element, which is below the Air; And therefore it were better to take the word Heaven in those places for the Air, as 'tis elsewhere in the Scripture, which mentioneth the Dew, and the Birds of Heaven: Since also the Hebrew word, which there signifies Firmament, is also taken for the Expansion of the Air, and those Supercoelestial Waters for Rain.   

II. Of Wine, and whether it be necessary for Soldiers.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That if we speak of Wine moderately taken, the Sacred Text voids the Question, saying, that it rejoiceth the Heart. Which it performeth by supplying ample matter to the Influent Spirits, which the Heart by the Arteries transmitteth to all the parts; and which joining themselves to the private Spirits, strengthen them, and labour in common with them; And so the Soldier, entering into fight with a cheerful Heart, is half victorious. Yea, the greatest exploits of War are achieved by the Spirits; which constitute Courage, the Blood heated by them overpowering the coldness of Melancholy and Phlegm, which cause backwardness and slowness of Action. For it is with the Virtues as with Medicines, which become not active▪ and pass not from power into act, but by help of the natural faculties; So the Virtues do not produce their effects but by the Spirits. But Wine taken in excess is wholly prejudicial to the Valour of a Soldier; who hath need of a double strength; One of Mind, to lead him on valiantly to dangers, and keep him undaunted at dreadful occurrences; The other of Body, to undergo the long toils of War, and not draw back in fight. Now Wine destroys both of these. For as for the former, Valour or Fortitude is a Moral Virtue, which, as all other Virtues its companions, acteth under the conduct of Prudence, which alone ruleth and employeth them, and knoweth where and how they ought to act; So that what assists Prudence assists Valour too; and that which hureth the one hurteth the other also. Now excessive Wine hurteth the former very much. For by its immoderate heat it causeth a tumult and disorder in the humours, it maketh the Brain boil and work, and consequently embroyleth and confoundeth the Phantasies which are imprinted in it, (as it happeneth in sleep or in the Frenzy) and by its gross vapour it obstructeth all its passages. So that the Understanding cannot take its Survey there, having no free access to come and form its judgements and conclusions upon the Ideas and Phantasms; And although it should have its Avenues free, yet the Phantasms being in confusion, like Images in stirred waters, it would be impossible for it to judge aright, and prudently to discern what fear or what eagerness ought to be checked and repelled. For all Fear is not to be rejected, no more then 'tis to be followed; nor is the bridle to be let loose at all adventures, nor always restrained. The strength of the Body is also impaird by Wine. For though Galen and others will have it Hot and Dry, yet it being so but potentially, 'tis as subject to deceive us, as that Dutchman was, who hearing that Cresses were hot, commanded his Man to fill his Boots therewith, to warm him. For the truth is, Wine is moist and vapourous, and that to such a degree, that by reason of its extreme humidity it cannot be corrupted with a total corruption; For this happeneth when the external heat hath wholly drawn out the moisture of the corrupted Body, and so dissolved the Union of all the dry parts which moisture keeps together; So that the Elements flying away, there remains nothing to be seen but Earth alone. Which cannot come to pass in Wine, by reason of the little dry substance in it, and of its great humidity, which cannot be wholly separated: In which regard it is never corrupted but in part, viz. when the external heat draws away the more pure substance, and the better Spirits; as we see when it grows sour, thick, or turbid. Being then humid to such a degree, and our parts partaking of the nature of their food, if Soldiers nourish their Bodies excessively with Wine, they must retain the qualities thereof, viz. softness and weakness which follow humidity. Whence possibly came the word Dissolute, for such as addict themselves to this debauchery, and the other which follow it. Therefore the Soldier would be more robust if he never drank Wine; because he would eat the more, and produce the more solid substance, which would make him more vigorous, less subject to diseases, and more fit to endure in sight, and undergo the other toils of War.  
The Second said, That it belongs to the prudent Statesman to weigh the benefit and the mischief which may arise from his orders; So that he always propose to himself that he hath to do with imperfect men, and who incline rather to the abuse, than the right use of things. This holds principally in War, Soldiers willingly aiming at nothing else but pleasure and profit: Even in this Age, wherein we are passed the Apprentisage of War, except some constant Regiments: Soldiers are tumultuously chosen almost always out of the dregs of the people; of whom to require the exercise of Temperance in the use of that which ordinarily costs them nothing, were to seek an impossibility. Such is Wine, that though it makes the Soldier sturdy, yet it makes him unfit to govern himself, much less others; Whereunto notwithstanding he oftentimes becomes obliged by the various contingencies of War, when the Leaders miscarrying, or being elsewhere employed, the Soldier must supply the place of Captain to his Companions and himself. This hath moved almost all the Oriental Nations, and particularly the Turks to abstain from Wine, though they also adjoin reasons for it drawn from their false Religion, to confirm their Minds more in conformity to this piece of Policy. Therefore Mahomet, to induce them to it by their own experience, invited the principal Persons of his Army to a Feast, where he caused them to be served with the most exquisite Wines. First they all agreed upon the Excellency of Wine; but having taken too much of it, there arose such a tumult amongst them, that he took occasion thence, the next morning, to represent to them that Wine was nothing else but the Blood of the first Serpent, whose colour it also beareth; as the stock of the Vine which produceth it retaineth the crooked form of that vile Animal, and the rage whereinto it putteth those that use it, doth testify. And to content them that still loved the taste of it, he promised them that they should drink no-nothing else in their Paradise, where their Bodies would be proof against its violence. Which Prohibition hath been the most apparent cause of the amplification of his Empire, and propagation of his Sect; not only because Wine was by its acrimony dangerous to the most part of his Subjects of Africa and Arabia, where such as are addicted to it are subject to the Leprosy; and that his people who cultivated Vines might employ themselves more profitably in tilling the Earth, but principally it hath been more easy for him and his successors to keep 200000 men of War in the field without the use of Wine, then for another Prince as potent as he to keep 50000 with the use of Wine; which besides is difficult to transport, and incumbreth the place of Ammunition which is absolutely necessary.  
The Third said, That Mahomet was not the first that prohibited Wine; for before him Zaleucus forbade the Locrians to drink it upon pain of Death. The Lacedemoniaus and the Carthaginians, as Aristotle reporteth, had an express Law by which they forbade the use of it to all people that belonged to War. And the wise man counselleth only the afflicted to drink it, to the end to forget their miseries. But for all this he conceived that it ought not to be prohibited now to our Soldiers, since it augmenteth Courage, envigorateth strength, and taketh away the fear of danger; though indeed it is fit to forbid them the excess thereof, if it be possible.  
In Conclusion, It was maintained that Wine ought to be forbidden not only to Soldiers, but to all such as are of hot and dry tempers, and use violent exercises; because it hurts them, as much as it profits weak persons. Wherefore Saint Paul counselleth Timothy to use it for the weakness of his stomach. But God inhibited it to the nazarenes, and to those which entered into his Tabernacle, under pain of death. Moreover, you see that Noah, who used it first, abused it. And anciently it was to be had only in the shops of Apothecaries; because 'tis an Antidote and most excellent Cordial, provided its continual use render not its virtue ineffectual; our Bodies receiving no considerable impression from accustomed things. Therefore Augustus gave ear to all the other complaints which the Romans made to him; but when they mentioned the dearness of Wine, he derided them; telling them that his Son in Law Agrippa having brought Aqueducts to the City, had taken care that they should not die of Thirst.  
At the Hour of Inventions, amongst many others, these two were proposed. The first to prepare common Water so that it shall dissolve Gold without the addition of any other Body, etc. The second, to make a Wagon capable to transport by the help of one Man who shall be in it, the burdens of ordinary Wagons in the accustomed time: of which the Inventors delivered their Memories, and offered to make the experiments at their own charges.  
These Subjects were propounded to be treated of at the next Conference. First, The Earth. Secondly, What it is that makes a Man wise.    

CONFERENCE IX.  
I. Of the Earth. II. What it is that makes a Man wise.  

I. Of the Earth.  
UPon the first Point it was said, That the Earth is a simple Body, cold and dry, the Basis of Nature. For since there is a Hot and Moist, it is requisite for the entire perfection of Mixts, that there be a Cold and a Dry to bond them, and give them shape. This Earth then upon which we tread is not Elementary; for it is almost every where moist, and being opened affordeth water: which was necessary to it, not only for the union of its parts, which without moisture would be nothing but Dust; but also in regard of its gravity, which I conceive cometh from humidity; because as the lightest things are the hottest and driest, so the heaviest are usually the coldest and moistest. Besides, gravity proceeding from compactedness and compactedness from moisture, it seemeth that moisture is the cause of gravity. Which is proved again by the dissolution of mixed Bodies, whereby we may judge of their composition. For the heaviest Bodies which are easily dissolvable, are those from which most Water is drawn; whence it is that there is more drawn from one pound of Ebeny, then from twenty of Cork. From this gravity of the Earth its roundness necessarily follows. For since 'tis the nature of heavy things to tend all to one Centre, and approach thereto as much as they can, it follows that they must make a Body round and spherical, whereof all the parts are equally distant from the Centre. For if they made any other Figure, for Example, a Pyramid or a Cube, there would be some parts not in their natural place, i. e. the nearest their Centre that might be. Moreover, in the beginning the Earth was perfectly spherical, and the Waters encompassed it on all sides, as themselves were again encompassed by the Air. But afterwards, these Waters, to make place for Man, retiring into the hollows and concavities made for that purpose in the Earth, it could not be but that those parts of the Earth which came out of those cavities must make those tumors which are the Mountains and Hills for the convenience of Man. And nevertheless it ceaseth not to be Physically round, although it be not so Mathematically; As a bowl of Pumice is round as to the whole, though the parts are uneven and rough. They prove this roundness, 1. By the shadow of the Earth; which appearing round in the Eclipses of the Moon, argueth that the Body whence it proceedeth is also round. 2. Because they who travel both by Sea and by Land sooner discern the tops of Mountains and the spires of Steeples than the bottom; which would be seen at the same time if the Earth were flat. 3. Because, according as we approach, or go farther from the Poles, we see the same more or less elevated. 4. Because the Sun is seen daily to rise and set sooner in one place then in another. Lastly, it is proved by the conveniency of habitation. For as of all Isoperimeter Figures the Circle is most capacious, so the Sphere containeth more than any other Body; and therefore if the Earth were not round, every part of it would not have its Antipodes. So that I wonder at the opinion of Lactantius and Saint Augustine, who denied them: For as for that story, that in the year 745. by the relation of Aventinus, Virgilius a Germane Bishop was deprived of his Bishopric, and condemned as an Heretic by Pope Zachary, it was not only for maintaining this truth, which experience hath since confirmed, but because he drew conclusions from it prejudicial to Religion. Now whereas it may be doubted, whether as there are uneven parts in the Earth some higher than other, so there be not also Seas, some of whose waters too, are more elevated than the rest; I affirm, that since all the Seas (except the Caspian) have communication amongst themselves, they are all level, and no higher one than another. And had they no such communication, yet the Water being of its Nature fluid and heavy, flowing into the lowest place, would equal its surface with the rest, and so make a perfect Sphere. Whence it follows that they were mistaken who dissuaded Sesostris King of Egypt from joining the Red Sea with the Mediterranean, for fear lest the former, which they judged the higher, should come to drown Greece and part of Asia. For want of which demonstration several Learned Men have been mistaken, and no less than the Angelical Doctor.  
The Second said, That the Earth is very dry, not for that it dispelleth moisture as Fire doth, but for that it receiveth and imbibeth it into itself. But it cannot be cold of its own Nature; if it were it could produce nothing. It is cold only by the Air, as 'tis sometimes moist by the Water, and hot by the Fire which insinuateth into its cavities. It is also very heavy, since it holdeth the lowest place in the world, and hath its motion from the circumference to the Centre; which is the progression that Aristotle attributeth to heavy Bodies. Whence for being the lowest stage, it is called the Footstool of God. But this heaviness seemeth to me not to proceed from humidity, as was urged. For though the Water and Earth joined together seem to weigh more than Earth alone; 'tis not that they weigh more indeed, but this Earth which was imagined to be alone is filled with a quantity of Air; and the Water coming to succeed in its place, it appeareth more heavy. For Earth and Water joined together weigh more than Earth and Air so joined in like quantity; because Water is heavier than Air. And to justify that Earth is heavier than Water, a bucket filled with sand, weighs more than an other filled with Water. For, that sand is Water congealed is as hard to prove, as that Earth is Water.  
The Third said, That Earth composeth a Mixed Body by a double action, viz. from its coldness, and of its dryness. As for the former, it secondeth the Water, compacting by its coldness the parts which are to be mixed, and which moisture hath united. For the Second, it giveth hardness and consistence, imbibing and sucking up the superfluous moisture after the due union of the parts made thereby. It cannot but be cold; for as good Politicians willingly reconcile two great Families at Enmity by their mutual alliances so all the strength of the mixture consisting only in the union of Dry and Moist, and its destruction coming from their disunion, and the Dry and Moist being wholly Enemies and contraries in the highest degree, Nature reconciles them together, and brings them into union by the mediation of Water. For this being allied to Air by the moisture which it hath in a remiss degree; and Earth being allied to Water by the coldness which it hath in a less degree, it becometh allied to the Air and its humidity: Since according to the maxim, Things which agree in the same third agree among themselves. Thus you see coldness is necessary to the Earth, to cause a lasting composition amongst them. Earth hath also this advantage by its siccity, that as the same is less active than heat, and yieldeth thereunto in vigour of action, so heat yieldeth to it in resistance. For the dryness inducing hardness resisteth division more powerfully, and consequently better preserveth the mixed Body in being, resisting the Agents which are contrary to it. Whereto its gravity serveth not a little, it rendering the Earth less managable by the agitations of the agents its Enemies; So that gravity by this means assisteth the hardness and consistence of the dryness; like two Kinsmen uniting together to keep off the affronts of their Enemies.  
The Fourth said, That the gravity of the Earth, and of every other Body, yea that of Gold too, the heaviest of all mixed Bodies, dependeth only upon its Figure; since not only a Vessel convex on the side toward the Water sinketh not, but also a single leaf of Gold swimeth upon it. Which is seen likewise in Tera Lemnia, or Sigillata, which sinketh not in the Water; so that there is no probility in that decuple proportion of the Elements; according to which, Earth ought to weigh ten times more than Water, and Water only ten times more than Air; and supposing one were in the Region of Fire, and there weighed the Air, as we do here the Water, he would find it likewise ten times heavier than the Fire. This is more certain, that the proportion of the weight of Earth to that of Sea-water, is as 93. to 90; that of Sea-water to fresh, as 92. to 74. But that which makes more for those who hold Water more heavy than Earth, is, that the proportion of Earth to Salt is found to be as 92. to 106.  
In fine, It was remarked that though the Earth is considered by Astronomers but as a point in respect of the vast extent of the Celestial Orbs; yet no Man encompassed it round before the year 1420. when Jean de Betancourt, a Norman Gentleman, by the discovery of the Canaries traced out the way to the Spaniards, who attributed the honour thereof to themselves; though they began not till above fourscore years after. Moreover, it is 15000. leagues in circumference, of which there is not much less Land uncovered then there is covered by the Water. But if you compare their greatness together, there is far less Earth than Water. For 'tis held that there is no Sea that hath a league in depth, there is little without bottom, many to which the Anchors reach, yea several places not capable of great vessels for want of Water. On the other side, There are Mountains upon which you still ascend upwards for many day's journey; others inaccessible even to the sight: In a word, where ever there is Sea there is Land, but not on the contrary. So that taking the sixth part of the compass of the Terrestrial Globe for its Semidiametre, according to the ordinary proportion of the circle to its ray, the Earth will be found several times greater than the Water; the Springs that are found in opening it, being not considerable in comparison of the rest of its bulk.   

II. What it is that makes a Man wise.  
He that spoke first upon the second point, said, that he wondered not that Wisdom was taken for a Subject to be treated of in so good company, since 'tis the point which all desire most, not only in themselves, but also in others with whom they are to converse. But it behoveth to distinguish the same according to its several acceptions. For anciently Wisdom was taken for the knowledge of things Divine and Humane, before Pythagoras called it Philosophy. At present it is confounded with Prudence, and is either infused or acquired. The former, which springeth from the knowledge and fear of God joined with a good life, is obtained by begging it of God, and rendering one's self worthy to receive it: Such was that of Solomon, which brought to him all other goods. The latter, of which we now speak, is obtained by Precepts, Experience, or both. Whereunto Travel is conceived greatly to conduce, according to the testimony of Homer, who calls his wise Ulysses a Visitor of Cities; and according to the opinion of the ancient French Gentry, who would not have had a good opinion of their Children, unless they had seen Italy and other foreign Countries. It is also divided according to Sex, Conditions, and Age. For there is difference in the Wisdom of a Woman, of a Child, of a Man grown, and of an Old Man; and so there is in that of a Father of a Family, of his Domestic, of a Captain, of a Soldier, of a Magistrate, of a Citizen, of a Master, of a Varlet, and of infinite others, who may become wise by several, yea, sometimes by contrary means. For Example, a wise Soldier ought to expose himself to all dangers and events of War; quite the contrary to a wise Captain, who ought to preserve himself the most he can. A Prince, a Magistrate, a Master, a Father, are wise, if they command as is fitting: Whereas a Subject, a Burgess, a Servant, and a Child, are esteemed such in obeying them. Besides Precepts and Experience, Example serves much to the acquiring of Wisdom; whether the same be drawn from the reading of Books, or from converse and conference with wise persons; or sometimes too from the sight of undecent things: As of old the Lacedæmonians taught their Children Sobriety, by showing their Helots' drunk. The Example of Animals is not useless thereunto; and therefore Solomon sends the sluggard to the Pismire; and Lycurgus taught the same Lacedæmonians, that Education alone made the difference between Men, by showing them two Dogs of the same litter run, one after a Hare, the other to his Meat. Fables likewise have many times their use. But true it is, that Nature layeth the great Foundations: Whence Cold and Dry Tempers, such as the Melancholy, have a natural restraint which participateth much of Wisdom; Whereas the Sanguine, by reason of their jollity, and the Choleric, in regard of their hastiness, have greater difficulty to attain the same, as Socrates confessed of himself.  
The Second said, That the true Moral Wisdom of a Man, considered alone, consisteth in taming his Passions, and subjecting them to the Command of Reason; which alone serveth for a Rule and Square to all the Actions of Life; whereas the common sort leave themselves to be governed by the Laws: And the ancient Philosophy had no other aim but that Apathy. That of a Master of a Family consisteth in the management of the same: That of a Politician in the Administration of the State, punishing the evil-doers, and recompensing the good, establishing wholesome Laws, and maintaining Trade.  
The Third said, That He alone deserves to wear the name of Wise, who seeketh and embraceth the means whereby to be in favour with him who is the Chief Wisdom. Those means are two. First, That his Understanding be duly informed of what he ought to know, and what he ought to be ignorant of. Secondly, That his Will be disposed to what he ought, either to love or hate. As for the first, he must be ignorant of Humane Sciences, since they shake and undermine the foundations of true Wisdom; their Principles being for the most part opposite to the Articles of our Faith. For of the ancient Philosophers, the Pythagoreans are full of Magical superstitions. The Platonists hold a Matter coeternal to God. Democritus and all the Epicureans have thought the same of their Atoms, not to mention their Voluptuous End. The Stoics have made their Sage equal, and sometimes superior to God, whom they subjected to their celebrated Destiny or Fate. The Pyrrhonians have doubted of every thing, and consequently of the truth of Religion. The Cynics publicly made Virtue of Vice. The Peripatetics are as much to be feared as the former, with their Eternity of the World, which destroyeth all Religion, and gave occasion to Saint Ambrose, to say in his Offices, That the Lycaeum was much more dangerous than the gardens of Epicurus. Moreover, the Principles of the Sciences do not accord with those of Faith: And Saint Thomas said with good right, that Humane Reason greatly diminisheth it. And that happens oft times to those who busy themselves about those goodly principles which the Poets relate fabulously of Bellerophon, who attempting to fly up to Heaven, Jupiter angry at him, sent only a Fly, which overturned the winged Horseman; So those vainglorious wits puffed up with some Humane Knowledge, venturing to hoist themselves into Heaven, and penetrate into the secret Cabinets of the Divine Providence; it gives them up to a thousand dubious Controversies, which precipitate them into the darkness of Confusion and Error. Moreover Solomon, the pattern of Wisdom, saith, that after having lead his Mind through all Nature, he perceived that all was nothing but vanity and vexation of spirit; And Saint Paul saith, that Knowledge puffeth up and swelleth with Pride; that this Humane Wisdom is nought but Folly before God; by which he admonisheth us to beware of being deceived; and that if any one will be wise, let him profess Ignorance, and become a fool, since the Folly and Ignorance of the world is the true Wisdom and Knowledge in the sight of God, who loveth the poor of spirit, that is, the simple, idiots, and ignorant. As for what our Understanding ought to know, for becoming wise, 'tis, To know that Chief Wisdom, and the Christian Doctrine, by the example of the same Saint Paul, who would not know any thing besides Jesus and him crucified. For the Second means, which regardeth the Will of Man, it will be disposed to that which is to be loved or hated, when it hath submitted itself entirely to the Will of God, who is its Supreme Good; who saith to it, Eschew Evil, and Follow Good.  
The Fourth said, That by the word Wisdom, is generally understood all that which contributes to perfectionate a Man according to the rational part; as by the word Faith we understand Christianity, and a Summary of all the Christian Virtues. Now it is hard to prescribe a way to such Wisdom, seeing it requireth two points, namely, The Knowledge of Things, and Moral Habits, both which are infinite. For all which is Sensible is the Object of our Senses, and enters not by one, but by all; That which is Intelligible, is the Object of our Understanding. Moreover, all the Good in the world is under the notion of Convenience (or sutableness) which gives it Amability, the Object of our Sensitive appetite, which is guided in this acquitst by the knowledge of the Senses; If it is Spiritual, it is the Object of the Will which pursues it by the light of the Understanding. And for the eschewing of Error in the search of those Goods Prudence intervenes, which hath at its service an infinite of habits of the Mind; yea the whole troop of Moral Virtues, in the exercise of which there is always something to be got, as there is always to be learned in the knowledge of things. Therefore every Man being fully furnished with what is needful to be wise, he is not excusable if he become not so. For he hath the seeds of Wisdom in as many manners as there are ways to obtain it. In the Understanding he hath, from the Cradle, Intelligence, which is the Habit of first Principles, and Maxims, which he knoweth by the Induction of the Senses; by the help of which he attaineth Science. In the Will he hath the Synteresis or Conscience, which is an Habitual Cognition of the Principles of Moral Actions, by which he easily proceedeth to the exercise of Virtues, and to the acquisition of them. And further, these pure Natural Principles may be assisted and relieved by good Instructions; and especially, if they who learn have Organs well disposed, and a temper proper for becoming wise.  
At the Hour of Inventions, one undertook the proof of Archimedes' Proposition, To move the Earth from its Centre, if he had assigned elsewhere a solid space, and instruments proportioned thereto in greatness and strength. And it was proved, that the Centre of Magnitude is different from that of gravity, by many Mechanical Experiments.  
After which it was resolved to treat, at the next Conference. First, Of the Motion, or rest of the Earth. Secondly, Of two monstrous Brethren living in one Body, to be seen at present in this City.    

CONFERENCE X.  
I. Of the Motion, or Rest of the Earth. II. Of Two Monstrous Brethren, living in the same Body, which are to be seen in this City.  

I. Of the Motion, or Rest of the Earth.  
HE that spoke first to this Point, Said this Question had been in debate for more than two thousand years; and the reasons brought on either side seemed to him so strong, that he knew not which to embrace. That the most common opinion was that of Aristotle, Ptolemy, Tycho Brahe, and the greatest part of Philosophers, namely; That the Earth is unmoveable, and placed in the midst of the World. Which Situation is proved, I. Because the Decorum and Symmetry of the Universe requires that every thing be placed according to its dignity. But the Earth being the ignoblest and meanest of the Elements, all which yield in point of dignity to the Heavens, it ought consequently to be in the lowest place, which is the Centre of the World. II. The Gravity of the Earth inferreth both the one and the other; namely, its being in the Centre, and its Immobility; The former, because the heaviest things tend toward the lowest place; and the latter, because by reason of their gravity they are less apt for motion then for rest, whereunto the lowest place also contributeth. For in a Circle the Centre remains unmoveable, whilst the other parts thereof are moved. III. In whatsoever place of the Earth we are, we can always discover one half of the Heaven, and the opposite signs of the Zodiac; as also experience witnesseth, that when the Moon is at the Full, we behold her rise just at the same time that the Sun sets. Whence it followeth that the Earth is at the Centre, and as it were a point in comparison to the Firmament. IV. We always see the Stars of the same magnitude, both when they are directly over our heads, and on the edge of the Horizon, unless there be some hindrance by the refraction of Vapours and Clouds. All which things would not be thus, unless the Earth were in the midst of the World. Now they have concluded the Rest and Immobility of the Earth from the following Reasons I. It is the nature of Simple Bodies to have but one Sole and Simple Motion. For if two contrary Motions were in the same Subject, the one would hinder the other. Wherefore the Earth having, by reason of its gravity, a Direct perpendicular Motion of its own, cannot have also a Circular: and by reason of the same gravity it must needs be firm and stable, not movable. II. If the Earth were moved, than a stone or other heavy thing cast upwards, would never fall down at the foot of the caster, but at distance from him; for during the short interval of its being in the Air, the Earth will have made a great progress; as it happens when one in a boat that passeth swiftly upon the Water, casteth any thing upwards, the same falleth a far off, instead of falling into the boat. III. If the Earth turned round, than a Bullet discharged out of a Cannon from the West towards the East, would not fly so far from the piece, as one discharged from the East towards the West; because the Earth will in the mean time by its Motion have carried the Cannon forwards to the former Bullet, and removed it backwards from the latter. IV. We should never see the Clouds unmoved, nor going towards the East; but as for them that move Westward, they would seem to fly as swift as lightning. V. Cities and all kind of buildings would be shattered, the Surface of the Earth would be disunited, and all its parts dissipated; being not so firmly linked together, as to endure such a Motion. Lastly, did the Earth turn round, and the Air with it (as is alleged in answer to the former reasons) the Air would have been so heated since its Motion with that swiftness, that the Earth would have been uninhabitable▪ and all Animals suffocated; Besides that the violence of that could Motion not have been supported by Men so long time; for it is acknowledged that Daemons themselves cannot carry a Man from one Climate to another remote one, within that short time, that some Magicians have phanci'd; because he would not be able to resist the violence of the agitation of the Air.  
The Second confirmed this Opinion, alleging, That such Motion would be violent in respect of the Earth; which for that it naturally tendeth downwards cannot be hoist towards Heaven, but against its own Nature; and no violent thing is durable. He added also the testimony of the Scripture, which saith, God hath established the Earth that it shall not be moved; that it is firm or stable for ever; that the Sun riseth and setteth, passing by the South toward the North: And lastly, it relateth the Joshuah's word, as one of the greatest Miracles.  
On the other side, it was affirmed, That the Opinion of Copernicus is the more probable, which Orpheus, Thales, Aristarchus, and Philolaus held of old, and hath been followed by Kepler, Longomontanus, Origanus, and divers others of our times, viz. That the Earth is moved about the Sun, who remaineth unmoveable in the Centre of the World. Their Reasons are, I. The middle, being the most noble place, is therefore due to the most noble Body of the World, which is the Sun. II. It is not more necessary that the Heart be seated in the midst of Man, then that the Sun be placed in the midst of the Universe, quickening and heating the greater, as that doth the lesser World. Nor do we place the Candle in a corner, but in the midst of the Room. III. The circular Motion of the Planets round about the Sun seems to argue that the Earth doth the same. IV. It is more reasonable that the Earth which hath need of Light, Heat, and Influence, go to seek the same, then that the Sun go to seek that which he needeth not; Just as the Fire doth not turn before the Roast-meat, but the Roast-meat before the Fire. V. Rest and Immobility is a nobler condition than Motion, and aught to belong to the visible Image of the Deity, viz. the Sun, who in that regard hath been adored by sundry Nations. VI We see heavy things kept up in the Air only by virture of Motion; For instance, a stone placed in a sling, and turned round about. VII. They who deny the Motion of the Earth, by the same means deny its aequilibrium, which is absurd to do. For if a grain of Wheat laid upon a Sphere exactly pendulous upon its Poles causeth the same to move, the like aught to come to pass in the Terrestrial Globe when any heavy Body is transported upon it from one place to another: Seeing the greater a circle is, the less force is needful to move it; and there is no impediment from the Air, much less from its Centre, which is but a point. The same comes to pass when a Bullet is shot out of a Cannon against a Wall. VIII. If both the Direct and the Circular Motion be found in the Loadstone, which tendeth by its gravity to the Centre, and moved circularly by its magnetic virtue, the same cannot be conceived impossible in the Earth. IX. By this Simple Motion a multitude of imaginary Orbs in the Heavens, without which their Motion cannot be understood, is wholly saved; and Nature always acts by the most compendious way. X. It is much more likely that the Earth moves about five leagues in a minute, then that the eight Sphere in the same time moves above forty Millions, yea infinitely more, if it be true that the extent of the Heavens is infinite, and that beyond them there is neither time nor place: So that to have all the Heavens move round in four and twenty Hours, were to measure an infinite thing by a finite.   

II. Of two Monstrous Brethren living in the same Body.  
He who spoke first to the Second Point, said, That in his judgement the Anger of God is the true cause of Monsters, since the Scripture threatens to cause the Wives of those whom God intends to punish, to bring forth Monsters. The same is the universal conceit of the vulgar, who are terrified at the sight of such prodigies, which are termed Monsters; not so much because the people shows them with the finger, as for that they demonstrate the Divine Anger; whereof they are always taken for infallible arguments. Upon which account the Pagans were wont to make expiation for them with sacrifices. And most Writers begin or end their Histories with such presages.  
The Second said, That as it is impious not to ascribe the Natural Actions on Earth to Heaven, so it seemed to him superstitious to attribute the same to the Supreme Author, without seeking out the means whereby he produceth them: For though they may be very extraordinary in regard of their seldomness, yet they have their true causes as well as ordinary events. Which doth not diminish the Omnipotence of the Divine Majesty, but, on the contrary, renders it more visible and palpable to our Senses: As the Ministers, Ambassadors, and military people employed by a great King for the putting of his command in execution, are no disparagement to his Grandeur. That he conceived the cause of such Monsters was the quantity of the Geniture, being too much for the making of one Child, and too little for the finishing of two, which the Formative Virtue designed to produce; as also the incapacity of the Womb, which could not receive its usual extension, and that by reason of some fall or blow happened when the parts of the Embryo's began to be distinguished, and separated one from the other; whence an Abortion would have followed, had not there been a great vigour in the two faetus, which was sufficient to retain their internal forms, namely, their Souls; but could not repair the defects of the external forms, at least in that wherein the matter hath been most deficient: As the Founder, how excellent an Artist soever he be, makes an imperfect Image, when his material is defective.  
The Third said, That for the passing of a certain Judgement upon the present subject, he conceived fitting to make this description of it. The greater of this twofold body is called Lazarus, and the other John Baptista, Son of John Baptista Coloreto, and Perigrine his Wife, of the Parish of Saint Bartholomew, on the Coast of the Seignory of Genua. They were born in the year, 1617. between the eleventh and twelfth of March, about midnight; and baptised by Julio Codonio, Curé of the place by direction of the Abbot Tasty, Vicar general of the Archbishop of Genua; and three months after confirmed by Pope Paul V. Their Mother died three years after their birth. The first is of low stature, considering his age of more than sixteen years; of temper very melancholy and lean: Both the one and the other have brown chestnut hair. They are united together by the belly four fingers above the Navel, the skin of the one being continued to the other; and yet their feeling and motion are so distinct, that the one being pricked, the other feeleth nothing. The first (saving this conjunction) is well proportioned, and furnished with all his Members. The other who came into the world with a head much less than his Brother, hath one at the present twice as big; which greatness seems to proceed from an Oedema or Inflation, occasioned by the posture of his head, which is always pendulous and supine; and this defluxion of humours, joined with his Brother's negligence, hath caused some sores upon him. He hath the countenance of a Man, but a most dreadful, one by the disproportion of all its parts; He is deaf, blind, dumb, having great teeth in his mouth, by which he casts forth spittle, and breathes very strongly, rather than by the nose, which is close stopped within. His mouth is otherwise useless, having never drunk nor eaten; nor hath he any place for evacuation of excrements. His eyes are always shut, and there appears no pupil in them. He hath but one thigh, one leg, and one foot, extremely ill shaped, and not reaching to the knee of the other. But he hath two arms, very lean and disproportionate to the rest of the body; and at the end of each of them, instead of hands, a thumb and two fingers, very deformed too. At the bottom of his belly there is a little membranous appendix without a passage. His pulse is manifest in either arm, as also the beating of his heart, though the external figure of his breast, and the divarication of his jugular veins have very little of the ordinary structure and situation. Whereby it appears that each of them hath a brain, heart, and lungs distinct; but they have both but one liver, one stomach, and one set of Intestines. For one of them sleeps sometimes while the other is awake; one hath been sick while the other hath been in health. The greater hath been blooded above twenty times in three grievous diseases; but no Physician hath ventured to purge him, lest the purgative medicament passing through those unusual windings should produce unusual effects to his prejudice. He lives after the common manner, exercising all his rational, vital, and natural faculties in perfection. And they who have been to see him in this City, (as almost every one runs to see this Wonder of Nature) may judge of his management and conduct of his affairs. Yet the negligence of the greater in supporting the less, and holding him in a convenient posture, is not to be passed over without notice; for though he breathes, as I said above, yet he always keeps his head covered with a double linen cloth, and his cloak; and although by his great weight he continually stretches the skin of his belly, yet he endeavours not to ease either his Brother or himself. Yea, the custom of carrying this load hath rendered it so light to him, that he performs all ordinary exercises, and plays at Tennis, like another Man. All which considered, it seems this Monster is one of the most notable Errors of Nature that hath appeared in this Age, and perhaps in any preceding. Besides the causes alleged above, some extraordinary conjunction of the Stars happening at the time of his conception, may have had some influence in this irregular production. Moreover, it appears that the less draweth nourishment from the greater by the Anastomosis, (or Insertion) of his Vessels with those of his Brother, as the Child sucks the Maternal Blood by the umbilical Vein; there being in both but one principle of sanguification. But it is otherwise as to Life, Motion, and Feeling, which being distinct in them, cannot proceed from one and the same principle.  
The Fourth said, That it may be doubted whether this be a Monster or no, their union being not sufficient for that denomination. For we frequently see two trees grow together in the middle; and otherwise separate. Nor is the deficiency of parts in the one any more monstrous, then if one single man should be born without Arms and Legs. Moreover he inherited the same from his Father, which doth not come to pass in Monsters.  
The Fifth said, That according to Plato, the case is the same with Nature as with Virtue: All that exceeds their ordinary rules is called monstrous. As deformity of the Mind is Vice, so is also that of Nature; That the cause of this instance is like that of an Egg with a double yelk, out of which, the pellicles being broken that separated them, are produced two Chickens joined together, or else one with four wings, four feet, or other such irregularities. So these Twins having been divided in the Womb at the place where they co-here, either by the acrimony of humours or some other violent cause, Nature which loves nothing so much as Union, forthwith assembled its spirits and humours to unite that which was separated. Which design of Nature is apparent in the cure of wounds and burns, the fingers and other parts uniting together one to the other, contrary to its first intention, the figure, and use of the same parts. But the difficulty is, whether there be two Souls in these two Bodies. For my part, considering that they have two Brains, (wherein the Soul is held to reside) and the external humane shape, they may be rightly called two Men, who consequently have two Souls. Now if that which is in the less doth not exercise its functions, the reason is, because the Organs are not fitly disposed and proportioned, no more than those of little Children, Idiots, and Mad men, and through this Nature's having been hindered by the rebellion of the Matter to receive such dispositions from the Agents, which are Heat and the Spirits: which also being too languishing, have not been able to impart to their subject all the degrees of necessary perfection.  
The Sixth said, That he compared the framing of this Monster to the Workmanship of a piece of Tapestry, upon which two persons are employed. The more diligent of the two finishes his task first; the more slothful finding all the material spent, is constrained to leave his business imperfect, and fasten it to the other as well as he can. So the spirits being in too great abundance to attend the fabricating of one single Child, undertook two, and began each from the Head: The more vigorous had done first, and the other finding no more stuff made but half a Man, who by reason of the continuity of the Matter, became connected to the first. Now whereas it may be said that the Definition of Monsters brought by the Civilians doth not appertain to it, the answer is, That the same thing may be a Monster Physically, inasmuch as it deflecteth from the Laws of Nature, as this doth, though it be not one Politically, in that it is capable to make a Will, Inherit, Contract, and to do all other Actions civil.  
The Hour of Inventions was spent in Replies and Comparisons of other Monsters, particularly that of mentioned by Buchanan in the fifteenth Book of his History, born in Northumberland with two heads, four arms, two breasts, and only two legs; It was instructed in Music, so that each head sung its part melodiously, and discoursed together pertinently. They died, one fifteen days before the other, the latter by the putrefaction of his inseparable Companion. At length these two points were chosen. First, Of the Hairy Girl seen in this City. Secondly, Whether it be more difficult to resist Pleasure then Pain.    

CONFERENCE XI.  
I. Of the little Hairy Girl lately seen in this City. II. Whether it is more easy to resist Pleasure then Pain.  

I. Of the Hairy Girl.  
THe First said, That this Germane Girl, born at Ausperg, called Barbara Vrsine, (the Name and Surname very well suiting to the person, if they were not invented purposely) is no Monster. For a Monster is designed, a Natural Effect, degenerating from the right and usual frame or perfection essential to its species. But the same holdeth not in this person, who is only an extraordinary effect of Nature, whereof two causes may be assigned. First, the prevalence of internal heat, which more powerfully drives outwards the steames (or exhalations) that serve for the matter of Hair, and is also the cause that Children are sometimes born with Teeth. Whence it comes to pass, that Hair grows in more places, and more plentifully in those which are hot and dry. In like manner it hath been observed, that some notable Warriors and Pirates have had their Hearts hairy. The Second Cause is the strong Imagination of the Mother during her conceiving, or in the days near it; when the Embryo being like soft wax, is capable of every impression never so little proportionate to its subject; yea, sometimes it is so extravagant, that the effect cannot be attributed to any other cause. Such was that young Girl mentioned by Marcus Damascenus, and presented to the Emperor Charles IU. which, besides that she was all hairy like this, had the feet of a Camel; her Mother having too wistly considered the Image of Saint John Baptist clothed in Camel's hair: And this consideration satisfied the Father, who at first disowned her. The same was the Opinion of Hypocrates, when he saved the Honour and Life of a Princess who had brought forth an Aethiopian, through the too attentive minding of the picture of a Moor hanging at her beds-feet. Which moved Galen to advise such Ladies as would have fair Children, to behold those that are such frequently, at least in picture.  
The Second said, That this Hair being an Effect against the Intention as well of Universal Nature, which could not design any profit from a bearded Woman, as of the particular Agents, which designed to produce an Individual like to one of themselves, according to the ordinary course; it follows that the Girl must be termed a Monster. The Cause whereof cannot be the indisposition of the Matter, nor its too great quantity or deficience; since all the parts of this Child being well proportioned, and her colour native, conclude and argue the same as to the humours of her Body. Yet it may well proceed from some exorbitance in quality, not caused by the formative virtue, but by the Imagination of the Mother. For that of the Father contributes nothing hereunto. That the Formative Virtue doth not the business, is proved, because the Hair is a fuliginous vapour arising from the more dry and earthy parts of the residue and excrement of the third Concoction, which is made in the parts, and the Expulsive Faculty casteth forth as useless and unsuitable; the same arriving at the skin is imprisoned thereby the Cuticle; And Nature, which hath no further need of it, hinders its return. Now this Matter is forced to abide thus, till it make itself way through the Pores framed by its heat rarifying the skin. During its stay there it is concocted, incrassated, hardened, and puts on the figure of the Poor through which it issueth; As the soft Matter of Glass is incrassated by the heat, and takes the form of the mould in which it is form. Hence it is, that they whose skin is tender have very soft Hair. For their skin being by reason of its great rarity unable to resist the least heat, easily opens its Pores, which thereby become very small to give the vapour passage; which vapour because it stayed not long enough to be concocted and hardened, produceth very soft, gentle, and loose Hair. On the other, side in those whose skin is hard and dry, the resistance of the same causeth the enclosed heat to act more vehemently, and consequently to make greater Pores; through the which those vapours passing after a longer enclosure produce a Hair thicker, drier, and harder, as having been more parched and adured. For the vapour is by this means thickened and hardened, like the smoke which is condensed into soot in the Chimney. Now the Formative Virtue cannot be the cause of this production of Hair in all parts of the Body of this person. First, because heat, the cause efficient, is at that time too weak, through defect of which we see that a dozen or fifteen years after the birth, Hair is not produced even in Males. Secondly, the Matter of this little Body is too soft to furnish stuff dry enough for the making of that fuliginous vapour. It remaineth therefore that it be ascribed to the Imagination of the Mother; who being a Superior Agent, many times hinders the Formative Virtue from doing what it designeth. That she is Superior, it is true. For the Formative Virtue belongeth to the Vegetative Life; Man begetting only as he is Vegetative (God alone begetteth by the Understanding) but the Imagination is a Faculty of the Sensitive Life, and so subjecteth the less to itself; as the Agent which operateth by the Understanding makes use of that which operateth by Nature. So the Smith, though a mean Artisan, yet makes use of Fire, the most noble Elementary Agent, as a Slave. Now the Imagination acteth in this manner: It presents to the Woman some pleasing object, this object excites her Appetite; the Appetite by its dominion and command moves the Motive Faculty the performer of its pleasure. This Motive Faculty discharging its Office by the Spirits, which it sets in Motion, and sends forth as it lists; And these Spirits having their Source and Original in the Brain, upon which the Phantasms of the Imagination are imprinted, it comes to pass that when a Childbearing Woman hath a lively representation or Imagination of the thing which she desires; those Spirits upon which the Image is imprinted, coming to be sent forth by the Motive Faculty, and separating from the rest of their troop which is in the Brain, carry along with them the said Image or Effigies. The same happening in the Brain that doth in a Looking-glass, which being entire showeth but one Object, but broken into a hundred pieces, every piece representeth the same whole. For the Nature of Species is of itself indivisible, and is not divided but because of the subject in which they are. So the Phantasm being in the Brain representeth but one and the same thing, but a part of the Spirits (upon which it is engraven) separating from thence carry the same along with them; And arriving with the blood and humours at the faetus, which incessantly draws them from the Mother's Body by the Umbilical Veins, engrave upon it the Image configured to them.  
The Third said, That he could not ascribe this Effect to the Imagination, no more than all other Monsters (because the Girl resembling neither Father nor Mother, seemed to him by this uncouth and strange hairiness, to deserve the name of a Monster.) For:  
First, The Imagination cannot produce any real Effect, the Intentions of Men produce nothing such; this belongs only to the Deity.  
Secondly, All the Animal Faculties being almost intercepted in Generation, how can the Formative Faculty, which, according to Erastus, is the sole Agent, conceive and apprehend those Images and Representations? For there is little appearance that the forms of the Imagination are engraven upon Aerial Spirits in the same manner, that these of the Formative Faculty of the Heavens, or Universal Spirit, are imprinted in the Air, for the production of Mixed Bodies. For if it were so, than Children would have upon their Body's marks or tokens of every thing that their Mothers had ardently desired and imagined, (and in their Imagination and desires they have no commendation for Constancy) by reason of the continual Agitation of their blood, which is incessantly attracted by the Foetus. So that we should see strange portraits of the Mother's Fancies upon the Infant's Body; whereby would be saved much of the pains that Baptista Porta, takes in his Natural Magic, to teach how to produce Monsters. Moreover, as the Common Sense judgeth of the difference of Objects which it carrieth to the Imagination; so the Imagination retaineth not those Species, saving to present them to Reason, which judgeth and determineth upon them. Wherefore, if, for example, the Common Sense represents to the Imagnation a Centaur, or some other Monster, and the Imagination represent the same to Reason, this Reason of ours will never allow or consent that the Formative Faculty attempt to bring it to effect.  
The Fourth said, That he did not think this Girl ought to be termed a Monster, unless in the large signification of the word, as it comprehends every thing that is contrary to the intention of the agent, or is extraordinary. Thus Aristotle calls a Woman a Monster, and a fault of Nature, which always designs the making of a Male as the more perfect; which being unable to do, either in regard of the disposition of the Agent, or of the Matter, she makes a Woman. And for the same reason he calls a Child, which doth not resemble its Father, a Monster, because the Father designed to beget a Man like himself. But this person is not truly such, since she is faulty only in the excess of superfluities or excrements, not of any part that varies the species: As one that voideth more excrements than others, or hath greater Nails than usual, cannot be styled a Monster. Besides, what we account monstrous in this person, we have the same ourselves. For were our Sight acute enough, we might see that there is no part of the Body but is covered with Hair, and perhaps not so fair and soft as hers; in which we find nothing extraordinary but in the length. For whereas she hath a light-coloured beard of four or five finger's length, the cause thereof is, because the Hair is carefully shaved off the rest of her countenance, which otherwise would be all of the same length. This Hair proceedeth from extreme Moisture, and Moderate Coldness; the former supplieth the matter for its Generation, and the latter helpeth the Action of Heat, by the occlusion of the Pores which it causeth. So that if among Children, which (according to Hypocrates) are more humid than those who have attained to Adolescence, there be found any who have such a degree of Coldness as is able to support the root of the Hair by condensing the skin, it will grow in all parts of the Body, though unequally, according to the difference of humour.  
The Fifth said, That besides the Imagination already alleged, (which caused Perfina Queen of Ethiopia to bring forth a white Daughter, and a Woman in our time to bring forth a Child like a Frog, by having held a Frog in her hand for some disease) this Hair proceeds from a certain temper proper for producing the same; which temper is found in this little person, as it is in other persons in some places only, and at a certain Age. This temper seems to be cold; for we see that Men and other Creatures are most hairy in the coldest Countries, and cold hath a great influence upon Hair; some persons having in one night had their Hair extremely grown and changed through an excess of fear, and consequently of cold; for fear causeth all the heat of the external parts to retire inwards. As it happened to a Gentleman of twenty eight years old, who being condemned to death for an Adultery committed in the Palace of Charles V. the next morning was found all white in the Prison; whereupon the Emperor granted him his pardon: As the Grandfather of the same Emperor did formerly upon the same account to a Spaniard named Osorio. The like happened to an other in shorter time, who found the rope begin to break by which he was let down by the side of a steep rock to get an airy of Hawks. Now this great abundance of Hair cannot proceed from extreme Humidity; for than it must either be radical, and consequently mild, and no sit Matter for Hair; or else adventitious, sharp, and corroding, which would destroy their root. Besides, it is not credible that so little a Body as this can afford so much excrementitious matter. Nor can it proceed from excess of Heat; for we see heat makes Hair to shed in those that have a burning Fever or a Hectic, and the Hair and Nails grow in dead bodies which have no natural heat.   

II. Whether it be harder to resist Pleasure then Pain.  
Upon the Second Point, it was said, That if Pleasure be considered as a Good, and Pain as an Evil, it is not to be doubted but that the latter is as insupportable to our Nature, as the former is agreeable to it. But there are two sorts of Good and Evil, of Pain and Pleasure: One of the Mind, and another of the Body; and many times the pains and sufferings of the Body are the joys of the Mind; and the pleasures and the gratifications of the flesh, the crosses and torments of the Spirit. Now there are scarce any pure and unmixed pleasures or pains in the world, but they are usually mingled one with the other: And if they could be separated, Pain would turn the scale, as being the more heavy and difficult to be supported. In reference to which mixture, the Greek Poet judiciously feigned, that there are two vessels at the entrance of Heaven, one full of Honey and sweetness, the other of Gall and bitterness. Of which two Liquors mingled together Jupiter makes all men to drink, and tempers with them every thing that he pours down here below. So that the Pains and Pleasures of the Mind or the Body, being moderate and indifferently tempered with each of those Liquors may be supported by Men; Pleasure and Good, (as the more natural) much more easily then Evil and Pain, which are destructive to Nature. But when both of them are extreme, and the sweetness of Pleasures and contentments is not abated by some little gall, nor the bitterness of displeasures sweetened by some little Honey, than Men cannot relish this Potion; because they are not accustomed to things pure and sincere, but to confusion and mixture; and cannot bear the excess of Grief or Joy, the extremities of which are found to be fatal. As first, for Grief, Licinius finding himself condemned for the crime of Cheating the public, died with regret; Q. Fabius, because he was cited before the Tribunes of the People for violating the Law of Nations: Julia, Caesar's Daughter, at the sight of the bloody garments of her Husband Pompey; And in the last Age, one of the Sons of Gilbert Duke of Montpensier, going into Italy, died with resentment at Puzzole, upon the Sepulchre of his Father, whom he went thither to see. Then for Joy, Diagoras Rhodius, seeing his three Sons victorious in one day at the Olympic Games, died with Joy. The same Fate befell Chilo the Lacedaemonian, upon the same victory of one of his Sons. Dionysius the Tyrant of Sicily, and the Poet Sophocles, having heard that they had won the bays for Tragedies, died both immediately; And so did the Poet Philippides upon winning that for Comedies. The Painter Zeuxis having made the portraiture of an old woman very oddly, died with laughing at it. To which Paulus Jovins produces two like examples of later date; one of Sinas, General of the Turk's Galleys, upon the recovery of his only Son whom he accounted lost, and the other of Leo X. upon the taking of Milan, which he had passionately desired; both of which died for Joy. Thus each of these Passions have great resemblance in their excesses. They equally transport a Man beyond the bounds of Reason; The one by its pleasingness makes him forget himself, the other by its bitterness leads him to despair. Grief destroys Life, either by the violent agitation of the Spirits, or by their condensation, which stopping the passages hinders respiration; From whence follows suffocation and death. Pleasure and Joy produce the same effect by contrary causes, namely by too great a dilatation of the Spirits, which causes weakness, and that weakness death. It may be doubted under which rank they ought to be placed who die for Love: But the sweetness of this kind of death is too much extolled by the Poets, that being to choose (said he) I should prefer it before the others.  
The Second said, They who die for Joy are of a soft temper and rare contexture, and their Hearts being too easily dilated and expanded by it, the Spirits evaporating leave the same destitute of strength; and so the Ventricles close together, and they perish under this Passion. On the contrary, they who die with grief and sadness have the Pores more closed, but are of a very hot temper, which requires room and freedom for the dilatation of the Heart, which becoming compressed by sadness, (which, like Fear, stops and refrigerateth, and renders the Spirits too much thronged ad condensed among themselves) the Spirits having their avenues obstructed, and their commerce with the Air hindered, stifle the Heart. That nevertheless the Passions of Joy are much less than those of Grief, because Evil more vehemently moves the Appetite then Good. For Grief destroys the simple and absolute Existence of a thing. Pleasure brings only a transient and casual effect, and is but a redundancy or surplusage. An Animal hath its perfect essence without it, but Grief puts its Being into evident danger, and changes it essentially. II. The preservation of an Animal, for which Nature endued it with the Passion of Grief, is the highest internal end; whereunto also Pleasure is ordained as a means; the pleasure of the Taste for the preservation of the Individual; that of the Touch, for the preservation of the species. In fine, Delectation is a Female Passion, or rather but half a Passion; for when its Object is present, it is languid and assuaged, and hath no more but a bare union with the Object, that is, the present Good, which is rather a Rest then a Motion of the Sensitive Appetite: Whereas Grief, which respects a present Evil, is not only redoubled by the presence of the same, but summons all the other Passions to its Relief, Anger, Audacity, Courage, and all the Faculties to revenge itself.  
The Third said, That if we consider these two Passions, as streams running within their ordinary channels, and do not respect their inundations, than Grief seems to be more powerful than Joy; for it causeth us to break through all difficulties that might stop us, it rallies the Forces of Nature (when there needs any extraordinary performance) gives Arms to extremities, and renders Necessity the Mistress of Fortune. On the contrary, Pleasure and Joy abate the greatness of the Courage, enfeeble a Man by exhausting his Spirits, and emptying his Heart too much thereof.  
The Fourth said, Pleasure and Grief are two Passions of the Concupiscible Appetite, the former of which is the perception of an agreeable Object, the latter of a displeasing one. For all Sensation is made by a Mutation, and that either from Good to Evil, (whence ariseth Grief, and if it persisteth, Sadness;) or from Evil to Good, whence springeth Pleasure, which if it be lasting, causeth Joy: which are to be carefully distinguished. They easily succeed, set off, and give conspicuousness one to the other. Socrates would never have found pleasure in scratching the place where his fetters fastened his Legs, if he had not borne those shackles a long time in Prison. Their vehemence hath commonly reference to the Temper. Pleasure hath more dominion over the Sanguine. The Melancholy Man makes more reflection upon Grief. But considering them absolutely, it seems to me more difficult to support Ease then Disease, Joy then Sadness, Pleasure then Grief. First, because Hope, the harbinger of good and contentment, hath greater effects than Fear which foreruns Evil, and causeth to undertake greater things; for all glorious and Heroical Actions have Hope for their impulsive cause; whereras, commonly, Fear produceth none but servile Actions. Secondly, a Passion is termed strong or violent, when by the impression of the species of the Object first upon the Senses, and then upon the Fancy, it becometh so much Mistress of Reason that it hinders the Man from freely exercising the functions of knowing aright and doing aright. Now Pleasures and Contentments cause Men not to know themselves, but to forget God, and run into Vices; whereas Grief and Afflictions usually retain them within their duty, in the Fear of God, and in the exercise of the Virtues of Patience, Obedience, and Humility. Many persons have bravely and courageously resisted torments, and yet yielded to Pleasure. And that Emperor of whom Saint Hierome speaks in his Epistles, desiring at any rate to make a young Christian sin, that he might afterwards avert him from the true Religion; and finding that he had to no purpose employed tortures and other cruelties upon him, at length shook him by the allurements of two immodest Women; whose embraces he being unable longer to resist or fly from, because he was bound with soft fetters, he had recourse to grief, biting his Tongue in two with his Teeth, which were alone at liberty, to moderate the excess of pleasure by that pain. In fine, as Enemies hid under the mask of Friends are more to be feared then open Enemies; So Grief, though a manifest Enemy to our Nature, yet is not so much to be dreaded as Pleasure, which under a false mask and pretext of kindness, insinuates its sweet poison into us; And (as of old the Psylli poisoned Men by commending them) becomes Mistress of the Man, and blinds his Reason. Wherefore Aristotle considering the power of Pleasure, counsels him that would resist it, not to behold its forepart as it presents itself to us, but the hinder-part when it parts from us, and for all recompense leaves us nought but a sad repentance.  
At the Hour of Inventions many ways were spoken of conducing to the production or hindrance of Hair, as also to the changing of its colour; and some of the chief stupifyers were mentioned that serve to assuage Grief or Pain. After which these two Points were chosen for that day seven-night. First, Of three Suns appearing at the same time. Secondly, Whether it be possible to love without interest, and without making reflection upon one's self.    

CONFERENCE XII.  
I. Of Three Suns. II. Whether an Affection can be without Interest.  

I. Of three Suns.  
HE that spoke first, said, That the occasion of this Discourse of three Suns, was the report that in August last, upon the day of our Lady's Assumption, there appeared three in a Village within two Leagues of Vernevil in Normandy. But lest any should attribute the cause thereof to what Virgil saith made two Suns, and two Cities of Thebes appear to Pentheus; we read in the first book of the fifth Decade of Titus Livius' History, that there appeared three Suns of Rome, during the War against Perseus' King of Macedonia, and the night following many burning torches, (Faces Ardentes, a kind of Meteor) fell down in the territory of Rome, which was then afflicted with a raging Pestilence. The same happened again when Cassius and Brutus were overthrown, when the Civil Wars were between Augustus and Antonius; and under the Emperor Claudius. But the most remarkable were those two which appeared under the Empire of Vitellius; one in the East, and the other in the West. I come now to inquire into the Causes. For if it be true that Man alone was created with a Countenance erected towards Heaven, on purpose to contemplate its Wonders; I conceive there are none more admirable than Meteors, so named by reason of the elevated aspect of Men when they admire them: and amongst those Meteors there is none more excellent than that Triple Sun, if the Copies resemble their Original, the most admirable of all the Celestial Bodies. Nevertheless, Reason given Man by God to render the most strange things familiar to him, finds more facility in the knowledge of these, then of many other things which are at our feet; and that by Induction, which it draws from Examples. The Sun, as every other Body, fills the Air with its Images or Species, which pass quite through the same, unless they be reflected by some Body smooth and resplendent in its surface, but opake at the bottom; Such are Looking-glasses, and Water, whether it be upon the Earth or in the Clouds. Now when a smooth Cloud that is ready to fall down in rain, happens to be opposite against the Sun, (being terminated either by its own profundity, or some other opake body) it represents the figure or image of the Sun; and if there happen to be another opposite to this first, it reflecteth the figure in the same manner; As a Looking-glass opposite to that wherein we look receives the species from the former, and represents the same; And if we believe Seneca, there is nothing less worthy of admiration: For if no body wonders to see the representation of the Sun here below in clear Water, or any other resplendent body, it ought to be no greater marvel that the same Sun imprints his image as well on high as below, not in one Cloud, or two only, but also in many, as Pliny affirms that himself beheld. This multiplicity of Suns (which are called Parhelij) happens usually but either at the rising or at the setting of the Sun. First, because the Refraction, which is necessary for seeing them, is not so well made to our eyes, which is more remote when the Sun is in the Meridian. Secondly, because when the Sun is in the Meridian he is more hot, and allows not the Cloud time to stay, but dissolves it as soon as it becomes opposite to him; which he doth not at his rising or setting, being then more weak. The same Cause that shows us three Suns hath also represented three Moons under the Consulship of Cn: Domitius, and C. Faminus; as also three other which appeared in the year 1314. after the death of S. Lewis, three months together. Which impression is called Paraselene, and cannot be made but at full Moon.  
The Second said, That Parhelij do not only appear upon the Clouds, or at Sun-rise and Sunset, as the common opinion importeth; for in the year 1629. on the twentieth of March, the day of the Vernal Equinox, four Parhelij appeared at Rome, 
You may see the figure of these Parhelij in Des Cartes Meteors.  about the true Sun, between Noon and one a clock, the Heaven being clear and the Sun encompassed with a double Crown, of a deeper colour than those which are seen sometimes about the Moon, and are found in the circumference of a Rainbow whose Circle is perfect. Two of those false Suns occupied the intersections of the Solary Crown and the Iris, and two others were opposite to the former in the same circumference of the Iris. Yet, in my judgement, this cause may be rendered of these five Suns. As in the Night, when the Air appears serene, we many times see that the Moon radiating upon the Air of the lower Region, which is more thick than the superior, by reason of vapours and exhalations, forms about itself a great bright Crown of about forty five degrees diametre; which space is fit for the reflecting and uniting of the Lunar rays to the Eye, and by such reflection and union to cause the appearance of that Crown: So also when the lower Region is full of vapours and exhalations, which have not been dissipated by the Sun, either because of their great quantity or viscosity, or else of the coldness of the Air, they render the Air more dense, though serene in appearance, and so more proper to receive the like impressions of the Sun. In the same manner were the Crown and the Iris produced; for they were formed by a reflection and refraction of the Solar rays, and consequently at the intersection of the Iris, and the Crown, there was a double reflection and refraction. Whence at the the said intersection appeared two false Suns sufficiently bright, by the new reflection of which upon the same circumference of the Iris, were form two other Suns of less brightness.  
The Third said, That this plurality of Suns ought to be attributed to a reflection of the species of the true Sun received in some Stars so opposed to him that they send back his light and species, and the concourse of those reflected rays, causes those masses of light to appear in the centres of concave bodies that reflect them; which cannot be Clouds, because they are neither smooth nor opake, nor void of colour; the three accidents necessary for reflection. Moreover, the Clouds cannot receive his species upon their uppermost surface, for than they could not reflect it; nor upon their lowermost or interior surface; for this cannot receive it, unless it be reflected from the Water, and then we should not see those Suns in the Air, but in the Water: Nor last, upon one side, because then the Spectator must not be upon the Earth, but in a line perpendicular to the diametre of the side of the Cloud; according to the doctrine of the Catoptrics.  
The Fourth said, That the Clouds being polite or smooth when they are turned into Water, and their profundity serving instead of opacity (as we see in deep Waters, which our sight is unable to penetrate) they remit the species presented to them; And the same may happen in the Air when it is condensed. Whence, as Aristotle reports, many have seen their own Images in the Air; and some affirm, that they have seen whole Cities so, particularly Avignon.  
The Fifth said, That the Viscosity into which the aqueousness of those Clouds had degenerated when those four Parhelij appeared at Rome, was the cause not only of their appearance, but also of their subsistence at midday. To the which also, more concocted and condensed, must those three Suns ascribed which were observed in Spain, Anno 753. for the space of three years; and the three others that appeared over the City of Theodosia, on the twenty ninth of October, 1596. from Sun-rise to Sunset.  
The sixth said, That all these difficulties inclined him to attribute Parhelij to one or more Clouds round and resplendent like the Sun. For what unlikelihood is there that an unctuous exhalation may be elevated in the Air in a round figure, which being inflamed on all sides, equally may represent by its light that of the Sun; seeing Nature is much more ingenious than Art, which represents him at pleasure by artificial fires; and we behold even from the surface of the Earth, up to the Orbs of the Planets igneous bodies of all figures and colours, and those of very long continuance.   

II. Whether any Love be without self interest.  
Upon the Second Point, the First said, That 'tis not without a mystery that Plato in his Convivium, makes two Cupids; one the Son of Venus' Celestial, the other the Son of the common or Terrestrial Venus; intimating thereby that there are two sorts of Love; one vile and abject, which is that of Concupiscence, whereby a Man loves that which is agreeable to him for his own interest, the other divine and perfect, wherewith we love a thing for itself: which kind is very rare. And therefore Hesiod makes it to be born of the Chaos and the Earth, to intimate that it is difficult to meet any that is pure and without any interest. The Ancients have also made two Loves; one of Plenty, Abundance, by which the Perfect loves the Imperfect, to communicate thereunto what it wanteth; the other of Indigence, which the Defective hath towards the Perfect, that it may be made perfect by it. The former is that of God towards his Creatures; the latter, that of Creatures towards God. And as for that which is found between Creatures, it is more or less excellent according as it partaketh of the one or the other. But to speak generally, it is more noble to be loved then to love, as it is more excellent to be sought to then to seek to another, to give then to receive.  
The Second said, That there are two sorts of Love, the one of Friendship, the other of Desire. The former causeth us to love things, because they are worthy of it; the latter, because they are convenient for us. The first is not only possible, but more natural than the second. For the Love of Friendship is direct, that of Concupiscence is only by reflection. Now that which is direct is in the date of Nature before the reflected, the stroke is before the rebound, the voice before the Echo, and the Ray before the reverberation. For Reflection is a re-plication or re-doubling of a thing. That the Love of Desire is such, I manifest. It is with our Knowledge as with our Love. A Man knows himself less easily than he doth others, because he knows all things else by a direct action, and himself by reflection. He sees every thing directly, but he cannot see himself saving in a Looking-glass. And for that nothing enters into him but passeth through the Senses, it is requisite that that which is in him come forth to re-enter again by the Senses, and pass into the Mind. For all Knowledge is by Assimilation; as, that I may see, the pupil of my Eye must have the Image of the thing which I would see, and so become like to it. Now all resemblance is between things that are distinct. So that if the Mind of Man is to know any thing of itself, that thing must be abstracted and severed from him, that it may be made like to him, and consequently cannot enter into his Knowledge but by reflection, in which the species loseth of its virtue; as we see in the Echo, which is never so natural as the voice which it imitates, nor the Object in the Looking-glass as the first Object. The case is the same in Love: For by it we love things before we desire them. Which is evident both in respect to the Object, and also to the Act of Love. Its Object, Good, includeth two things; First, its Nature of Good, which is an Entity considered in it as conducing to the perfection of the thing wherein it is; And Secondly, its communicability, or relation to other things capable of receiving its diffusion. The former is the foundation and efficient emanative cause of the other, which is only a Propriety, and consequently less natural; because posterior and subservient to the former. Moreover, Love taken as an act of the Will hath the same effect; according to which it is defined an adequateness, conformity and correspondence of our heart to the thing, and an approbation and complacency in the goodness which is in the Object; which our Mind judging good in this manner; First, Loves it in itself with a Love of Friendship, and then afterwards judging it amiable, applies it to itself and desires it. So that there is a twofold convenience or agreableness in every thing that is loved, even with the Love of Concupiscence. First, the convenience of the Good with its proper subject: And Secondly, the convenience of the same Good with the thing or person whereunto it is desired. The first convenience excites the Love of Friendship: The second that of Concupiscence. Wherefore it is more natural to Love without Interest, then for it. Besides, Love follows Knowledge, and we know things simply and in themselves, sooner than such as are compounded and referred to another. Lastly, the Love of Friendship is the end of the motions of our Hearts which acquiesce and stop there. The Love of Concupiscence is for the means which are posterior in the intention of Nature, and as servants employed for the End.  
The Third said, That Love being one of the most noble acts of the Will, or rather of the Soul, which is created after the Image of God, it hath some lineaments of that Divine Love. Now God loves all things for his own sake. In like manner we see all reasonable Creatures have an instinct and sympathy to such as are convenient to themselves, and an abhorrence or antipathy to their contraries. Moreover, the Nature of Good, which is the Object of Love, shows that Love always precisely regards him that loves; there being no Absolute Good, but all is with convenience or relation, without which it would not move us to affect it. For no Love can be assigned, how perfect soever, in which the person that loves hath not some interest. Q. Curtius delivered Rome from an infection of the Pestilence, by plunging himself into a great Vorago in the Earth; but it was with a desire of glory, and to be talked of. A Father loves his Children, but it is that he may perpetuate himself in them. We love Virtue for the sweetness and delectation which it brings with it; yea, even Martyrs offer themselves courageously to death, that they may live eternally with him for whose sake they suffer. And if seeing two Men play at Tennis, both of them alike unknown unto me, I yet wish that one may win rather than the other; this proceeds from some convenience or agreeableness between us two, though the reason of it be not then manifest to me.  
The Fourth said, That Disinterested Love, which is the true, entirely terminates in the thing loved purely and simply for the natural and supernatural goodness which is in it. But that which reflects upon the person who loves for his Honour, Profit, or Pleasure, is false and vicious. Now although since the depravation of our Nature by sin the former sort of Love be very difficult, yet is it not impossible. For since there is a Relative Love, there must also be an Absolute, which serves for a contrary to the other. It is much more hard to love an Enemy (a thing commanded by God) then to love another with a Disinteressed Love. And though it be true that Pleasure is so essential to Love that it is inseparable from it, (whence one may infer that such Pleasure is an interest) yet provided he who loves doth it not with reflection to his Pleasure, or for the Pleasure which he takes in loving, his Love is pure and simple, and void of all interest. So, though he who loves, goes out of himself to be united to the thing loved, (which is the property of Love) and becomes a part of the whole which results from that union, and consequently interessed for the preservation of the same: Nevertheless, provided he do not reflect upon himself, as he is a part of that whole, his love is always without interest.  
The fifth said, That as Reflex Knowledge is more excellent and perfect then direct; So reflected Love, which is produced by knowledge of the merits and perfections of the thing loved, is more noble and judicious then that which is without any reflection and interest. God's Love towards Men ought to serve them for a rule. Therefore Plato saith, that when God designed to create the World, he transformed himself into Love, which is so much interessed, that he hath made all things for his own Glory.  
The Sixth said, That true Love is (like Virtue) contented with itself; and he that loves any thing for his particular interest doth not properly love that thing, but himself, to whom he judgeth it suitable. In which respect Saint Bernard calls such kind of Love mercenary and illegitimate; because true and pure Love is contented simply with loving; and though it deserves reward, yet that is not its motive, but the sole consideration of the excellence and goodness of the thing loved. Nor is this true Love so rare as is imagined, there being examples of it found in all conditions of Men. Cleomenes King of Lacedaemon disguised himself on purpose to be slain, as accordingly he was; thereby to expiate to the Fate which was destinated to the loss either of the Chiestain or his Army. Gracchus died that his Wife Cornelia might live. The Wife of Paetus slew herself for company, to sweeten death to her Husband. Histories are full of Fathers and Mothers that have preferred their own death before that of their Children.  
At the Hour of Inventions, One offering to speak of Annulets, Philtres, and other means to procure Love, and mentioning the Hippomanes, or flesh which is found in the forehead of a young Colt (whereof Virgil speaks) he was interrupted by this intimation; That the two most effectual means for causing Love were the graces of the Body and the Mind, and to love those by whom we would be loved. And these two points were propounded. First, Whether Melancholy persons are the most ingenious. Secondly, Which is most necessary in a State, Reward or Punishment.    

CONFERENCE XIII.  
I. Whether Melancholy Persons are the most ingenious or prudent. II. Which is most necessary in a State, Reward or Punishment.  

I. Whether Melancholy Men are the most ingenious.  
THe First said, That (according to Galen,) Humane Actions (to speak naturally) depend on the complexion or composition of the Humours. Which Opinion hath so far prevailed, that in common Speech, the words Nature, Temper, and Humour, signify not only the Inclination, but the Aptitude and Disposition of persons to any thing. So we say Alexander the Great was of an Ambitious and Martial Nature, Mark Anthony of an Amorous Temper, Cato of a severe Humour. Of the Humours, Melancholy (whereof we are to speak) is divided into the Natural, wherewith the Spleen is nourished, and that which is Preternatural, called Atrabilis, or black choler. The one is like to a Lee or Sediment, the other to the same Lee burnt, and is caused by the adustion of all the Humours, whereof the worst is that which is made of choler. Again, it is either innate, or acquired, by abuse of the six things which we call Non-natural, as Imprisonment, solitary and gloomy places, immoderate watchings, Agitations and Motions of Body and Mind, especially Sadness and Fear, immoderate fasting, the use of base and black Wines, gross food, as Pulse, Coleworts, Beef, especially salted, and Animals that have black hair, such as are the Stag, the Hare, and all Water fowl. Aristotle conceived that this Natural Melancholy was the fittest humour to make Men ingenious; as he treats at large in his Problems, and shows that the greatest persons that have excelled in Philosophy, Policy, Poetry, and other Arts, have partaken most of it; yea, of the atribilarious Humour, as Hercules, Ajax, and Bellerophon. And before him Hypocrates, in his Book De Flatibus, saith, That nothing contributes more to Prudence then the blood in a good consistence, as the Melancholy Humour is. Galen will have Dexterity to proceed from Choler, Integrity and Constancy from Melancholy. The first reasons are taken from the similitude which Melancholy hath with Wine I First, as Wine is stronger upon its Lee, and keeps longer; so is the blood upon Melancholy. II. The Spirit which is drawn from Wine mingled with its Lee, is far better than that which is drawn from Wine alone. So the Spirits which proceed from blood joined with Melancholy, are much more vigorous thereby. III. As it easier to leap on high when one hath his foot upon firm ground, then in a fluid place; So Melancholy being more firm than the other Humours makes the Spirits bound the higher, and they are also better reflected; as the rays of the Sun are better reflected by the Earth then by the Water. IU. Melancholy persons have a stronger Imagination, and so more proper for the Sciences; because Knowledge is acquired by the reception of Phantasies into the Imagination. V. Old Men, who are prudent, are Melancholy. Whence came that saying, The prudent Mind is in a dry Body. And the blood of studious and contemplative persons becomes dry and Melancholy by study. Therefore Plato said, That the Mind begins to flourish when the Body is passed its flower. In fine, the Melancholy are very patient, and are not discouraged by any obstacles which they meet with: And as they are very slow in taking resolutions, so when they are once taken, they perform them notwithstanding what ever difficulties they encounter therein.  
The Second said, He could not conceive how this Humour which causeth the greatest diseases in the Spleen, and in the Veins, the Hypochondriacal Dotage, and the Quartan Ague; in any part the Scirrhus and the Cancer; and in the whole Body the Leprosy and other incurable diseases, should increase Wit and contribute to Prudence. For considering it even in its natural constitution, it renders those in whom it predominates, of a leaden colour, pensive, solitary, slow in motion, sad and timorous; and causes them to have a small Pulse, which is an argment of the weakness of their Spirits. On the contrary, the Sanguine Humour, opposite to it, hath none but commendable signs and effects; a rosey colour, a cheerful aspect; a sociable humour, an active promptitude; In brief, all actions in perfection. Whence it follows that the Humours of a well tempered Man being more exquisite, the Spirits which proceed from purer blood must be also more more refined.  
The Third Said, That to know whether the Melancholy Temper be most proper for Prudence, it behoveth to consider the nature both of Prudence and of Melancholy, and see how they agree together. Prudence is the Habit of acting according to Reason: Whereunto is requisite a clear Knowledge of the End of Man and of his actions, as also of the Means which conduce to that end, together with an integrity and firmness of Mind to guide a Man in the election and practice of those means. Wherefore it is not without good reason that Prudence is accounted the Queen and Rule of all Virtues, and that all of them are but species or kinds of Prudence: Whence he that hath all the Virtues, and hath not Prudence, cannot be said to have any Virtue. For indeed it is to Action, what Sapience or Wisdom is to Contemplation. Melancholy not-natural, which becometh such by adustion of the natural, of the Blood, Choler, and salt Phlegm, is easily inflamed, and being inflamed renders Men furious; and so is very contrary to Prudence, which requires a great tranquillity and moderation of Mind, for right judging of the End of things, and of the Means to attain thereunto. Choler indeed makes good Wits capable of well judging of the End and the Means; yea, it gives Courage for the execution: But the bilious Spirits are usually fickle, and want constancy in resolutions, and patience in executions; which defects are very remote from Prudence. The Phlegmatic have, as we say, (nigh bouche ny esperon) neither counsel nor dispatch: They are dull both of Body and Mind, and incapable of understanding and performing well. The Sanguine have Wit good enough, and gentle qualities; but they they are too sensual and tender, by reason of the softness and mildness of the numour, which ought to be moderated in a Prudent Man. But Natural Melancholy gives a solid Judgement, Gravity, Constancy, Patience and Temperance, which are the principal pillars of Prudence. So then, the Melancholy Temper alone is proper for it, and of the rest that which nearest approacheth it, namely the Sanguine. Now every Temper being compounded of the Four Humours, that in which Blood and Natural Melancholy predominate, will be the most proper of all for Prudence. For these two Humours make a very perspicacious Wit, and a profound and solid Judgement. Melancholy when moderately heated by the Blood and Choler, carries a Man to undertake and execute boldly and confidently, because it is with knowledge of the End and Means. Thus I have given you the Common Opinion. But I esteem it absurd to believe that the Elementary Qualities cause such noble Effects as the Inclinations to Prudence, Magnanimity, Justice, and other Virtues. For they are caused by the Influence of the Stars, as is found most evidently in Nativities, by which, without seeing the person or his temper, one may tell his Inclinations. But because in every Generation the superior and inferior causes concur together, and the temper almost always corresponds to the Influences; thence Aristotle and Galen (who understood not the true Science of Celestial Powers) have affirmed, (the former in his Physiognomy) That the Manners of Man follow his Temper; And the latter, That the Temperament is by itself the first and true efficient cause of all the actions of the mixed Body, and consequently of the Manners of a Man: Whereby they ascribe that to the Temper which ought to be attributed only to the Influences. And indeed, the Hermetick Philosophy assigns to the Elementary Qualities no other Virtues, but of heating, cooling, moistening, drying, condensing, and rarifying. Now according to Astrologers, Prudence is from the influence of Saturn and Jupiter, (who preside over Melancholy and Blood) according as those Planet's reign, or favourably regard all the points of the Ascendant and the Middle of Heaven in the Nativity; which are the principal significators of the inclinations and actions of a Man.  
The Fourth said, That to attribute that property and Virtue to the Humours to make Men wise and intelligent, is to prejudice the Rational Soul, which being immaterial needeth no material instrument for the performing of its actions; but as it is wholly Divine and the Image of God, it is perfectly intelligent of its own Nature, and by Reason the noblest of its Faculties, of itself knows what ever is most hidden in Nature. For if the actions of Knowledge and Prudence depend on the Temper of the Humours, then that which now produceth ratiocination in me should have been the food which I took yesterday: And so those things, which, whilst they were alive, had no other actions but vegetative or sensitive, should, when they are dead, produce intellectual. The Spirits alone put our Humours in motion and action; and when those fail, these remain without any Virtue. Nevertheless those Spirits (only the vehicles of the Rational Soul) are not the Cause either of Knowledge or Prudence, but only of Life: much less can those excellent Qualities be attributed to the Humours.   

II. Whether is more necessary in a State Reward or Punishment.  
Upon the Second Point, the First said, That Reward and Punishment are the two pillars of a State; one for the satisfying of Merit, and encouraging Men to Virtue; the other for restraining Malefactors, and turning them from Vice. That consequently they are both necessary, and almost inseparable. Nevertheless Reward seems to have some degree of necessity above the other; because though Punishment, with its eight species, (which are Fine, Imprisonment, Stripes, Retaliation, Ignominy, Banishment, Servitude, and Death,) serves for Example and for satisfaction to Distributive Justice, (whose end is to extinguish Crimes and reform them) and secure the Good against the Bad; (whence the Wiseman commandeth Magistrates to break off Iniquity, and govern with a rod of Iron) yet is it not good in all times, nor in all places. And Sylla did prudently in not punishing his Soldiers, who slew the Praetor Albinus in a Sedition. On the contrary, Reward is always necessary, and every where welcome, being the wages of Virtue, as the other is of Vice. 'Tis for that the Labourer cultivates the Earth, that the Soldier goes to the War, and that good Wits employ their time in excellent and profitable inventions. Darius' preserved his Kingdom by having rewarded Zopyrus; And on the contrary, Philip lost the City of Damas' for want of gratifying Milesius, by whose means he had won it. So that it is with good reason that Pliny saith, in his Panegyric, That the recompenses of good and bad deeds make Men good or bad.  
The Second said, That in the beginning of the World, when our Nature was created in the perfection of a lust Aequilibrium, we had on the one side the inferior part of the Soul wholly subject to the superior; and on the other this superior Soul absolutely submissive to the Divine Will. But the first Man having broken that Aequilibrium by his sin, and turned the balance towards the side of Evil; this Counterpoise, which like infectious Leven is left in the flesh of Adam, hath given us all a tendency and inclination to Evil. Hence it is that Men are lead into all sorts of Vices; and because 'tis the property of sin to blind the Mind, and cloud the Memory with the Reason; they have also forgotten the way which they ought to keep, that they might live like reasonable Men. For remedy whereof, not only God, who from all Eternity purposed our Reparation, but also Men most versed in the knowledge of Good and Evil have established Laws, to restore Man to his Aequilibrium, and contain him in his duty both towards God and Humane Society. But because Original Sin powerfully inclines us to Evil from our Nativity, and it is very rare, if not impossible, to find any one that errs and perseveres so wilfully without fear or hope; therefore God and Kings have appointed two powerful counterpoises, Rewards and Punishments; the former, for good and virtuous actions, the latter, for the Transgression of their Laws. Since than Punishment is only for Transgression of Laws, and Reward for those who besides observing them, proceed further to virtuous actions and such as are profitable to the public; It is certain, the former of the two is most necessary in a State, as that to which Men are most prone. For it is most true, that Men are naturally more inclined to Evil then to Good, because they are corrupted by Original Sin; and we know the most part would willingly desire to grow great by the loss of others, and to plunge themselves in Pleasures and Riches, if they were not restrained by the rigour of Laws. This is further confirmed, because the Laws of Men are better observed then the Divine Laws; not but that Men are as ready to infringe those, as these of God, who forbears and is patient after the sin of Man; but because the penalties of Humane Laws are appointed for this Life, and we behold Criminals publicly executed. Wherefore Punishment is the most necessary in a State. Nevertheless Reward is not unprofitable, because it serves to excite to well doing, and is frequently proposed in the Divine Laws; the corruption of our Nature not permitting us to be lead to do good, for the sake of good alone. Moreover, our own necessity constrains us to seek the support of our Life by our Labours, and to eat our Bread in the sweat of our Countenances, as our Sentence importeth. But to determine whether it be always fit to reward or punish, when there is occasion, this depends upon many circumstances of Times, Places, and Persons: wherein a good part of the skill of a Statesman consists. Yet when Reward or Punishment tends to the good of the public, or the honour of the Prince; neither the one nor the other ought to be omitted, in my opinion, so far as is possible.  
The Third said, That the Distich which imports, That the good hate sin out of the love of Virtue, and the wicked out of the fear of Punishment, voids the question. For since the good have nothing to do with any other Reward but what they find in their own satisfaction, knowing otherwise that they are obliged to do well; and the wicked need no other salary but the Punishment due to their Crimes; it seems Punishment is not only necessary, but alone necessary in a State. Not but that Reward serves for ornament, and for its better being, as Sauces do to raise the languishing Appetite; But in reference to absolute necessity, no person can say that they are to be compared together. For although Plato calls Reward and Punishment the two grand Daemons of Humane Society, yet it is not thence to be inferred that the one ought to be paralleled with the other, which is better understood by experience. For compare an Inter-regnum, wherein Crimes are not punished, with a conjuncture wherein no persons are rewarded; this latter indeed will discontent those that have a good opinion of their own merit; but the former will be so destructive that no Man can be secure of his Goods, Honour, or Life. On the contrary, fancy a State willing to reward all that do well, it cannot be done by Honours, but the same will be vilified by their multitude; nor by money, without ruining some to enrich others. Wherefore Reward is much less necessary than Punishment. Which I affirm in behalf of truth, and not in compliance with my particular opinion, being no more void of Appetite than others; but the experience of the ancient Greeks and Romans, and of the Spaniards and Portugals, (the former of which had all the spoils of other Nations, and the latter all the Gold discovered in the Indies) shows us that Reward doth not hinder discontents and revolts: Yea, it is found that the Reward given to one (unless it be accounted just by all the world, which is a rare thing) contents less, and for a less time him that receives it, than it excites discontents in all others that cannot get as much: Like a Mistress, who for one favourite makes a thousand jealous and desperate. Whereas the Punishment of one single person serves for an example and powerful lesson to all others. Add hereunto, that Reward being the sweetest when it is least expected, good people who alone deserve it, are forward to believe and to publish that they meant none at all.    

CONFERENCE XIV.  
I. Of the Seat of Folly. II. Whether a Man or Woman be most inclined to Love.  

I. Of the Seat of Folly.  
HE that began upon the first point said, That this Question is not unprofitable, because it concerns the original and place of the greatest evil that can befall the more noble part of Man: The decision of which will teach us to avoid the assaults of this Enemy the more easily, when we know where it is lodged. Nor is it new; for the Abderites having sent for Hypocrates to cure Democritus of the Folly which they impertinently conceived him guilty of, sound him busier after this inquiry by the dissection of many Animals. But it is very difficult to comprehend, for a thing ought to be introduced into our Fancy that we may reason upon it, and Folly is a perversion of that Ratiocination. Now Folly is taken either relatively or absolutely. In the first acception, he that doth any thing contrary to the common opinion is called a fool. So 'tis proverbially said, Chacun à sa marotte, Every one hath his babble. One is accounted foolish for being too much addicted to medals, another to Pictures, Flowers, or some such thing, of more curiosity than benefit. Yea one and the same person will sometimes say, I am a great fool for having done this or that. That which seems Wisdom to one, is oftentimes Folly to others. Thus ought that to be understood which S. Paul saith, The Wisdom of Men is Folly before God. Absolute Folly is Absurdness, consisting in the privation and depravation of the action of reasoning. So that methinks it may be answered to the present Question touching the seat of Folly, that the laesion or abolition of any action being in the same organ in which it is exercised well, (as blindness in that part wherewith we see) the seat of Folly must be the same with that of Reason; which is therefore to be inquired by us. But because Ratiocination cannot injure itself, (for the Intellect useth no Corporeal Organ to understand, but only the Memory, the Imagination, and the Common Sense, without which it cannot apprehend, nor they without the Corporeal Organs which are in the Brain) some have held that the Soul performeth not its reasoning with one single Organ, but with many together. Others have ventured to assign some particular place thereunto. The former opinion is founded: I. Upon the Maxim, That the whole Soul is in the whole Body, and the whole Soul is in every part, and consequently she performes her actions in the whole Body. II. That 'tis the temperature of the Humours which are throughout the whole Body, that serves for an instrument to the Soul. III. That the animal spirits are made of the natural and the vital; and so all the parts together contribute to Ratiocination, and not the Animal alone. Consequently, also, the whole Body, and not the Brain alone. IV. That the Brain in other Animals is perfectly like in structure to that of Man, having the same membranes and medullous substance, the same sinuosities, ventricles and veins; yet he differs from a Beast in the whole form and figure; and therefore must be considered entire, and not in one part alone. Lastly, that as God is most eminently in Heaven, yet acts no less upon Earth; So Reason, which is his image, discovers itself best in the Brain, yet ceaseth not to display itself in the Heart and other parts, which are not moved, and perform not most of their actions but by Reason, and the Will which is subject to it. The Second Opinion is, That the Judgement is made in one of the four ventricles of the Brain, which most account to be the third, as the fourth is attributed to Memory, and the two first or interior to the Imagination: Whence it is that we scratch the hinder part of the head, as if to chafe it, when we would remember any thing: that we lift up the head when we are about to imagine, and hold it in a middle situation when we reason. Which is further confirmed, for that they are wounded or hurt in those places, respectively have those faculties impaired or abolished. Now to find the causes of such Laesion of the faculties, we must consider what is necessary for the exercising of them. Three things are so, the Agent, the Organ, and the Object. The Soul which is the Agent, admitting (neither magis nor minus) no degrees, being immortal and in no wise susceptible of alteration, cannot be hurt. The Brain, which is the Organ, being well or ill disposed, either by distemper, or ill conformation, or solution of continuity, may help or hinder the Memory and the Imagination. The Object also may be fallacious, and represent to us that which is not.  
The Second said, Folly comes either from the Nativity, as some are born deaf and dumb, or after the birth. From the Nativity, when the natural heat is deficient; as in small heads, which have too little quantity of Brain, or those that are flat-headed, or of some other bad figure containing less than the round, and discomposing the Organs; Or on the contrary, in great heads which are said to have little Wit, because the Spirits are too much dispersed and humid, as we see in Children. After the Birth, as it happens to decripet Old Men, to such as live in a thick Air, or through watchings, fastings, excessive afflictions, diseases, falls or blows, especially if an Impostume follow. For in such cases there are instances of great forgetfulness or Folly, as Gaza forgot even his own Name: It is divided into Deliration, Frenzy, Melancholy, and Madness. Though the word Deliration be taken for all sorts of Folly, yet it more strictly signifies that which is caused by rising of the hot humours and vapours to the Brain, and frequently accompanies Fevers and Inflammations of the internal parts. Frenzy is an Inflammation of the membranes of the Brain, caused by the bilious blood or humour, usually with a Fever, and a languid Pulse, in regard such phrenctick persons are intent upon other things, whereby their respiration is less frequent. Melancholy (both the Ideopathical, which is in the Vessels of the Brain; and the Sympathetical, or Hypochondrical, which ariseth from the Liver, the Spleen, and the Mesentery) ariseth from that humour troubling the Brain; and by its blackness making the patients sad and timorous; or as Averro will have it, by its coldness, because Heat emboldens, and Cold makes fearful, as we see in Women. As this humour causeth Prudence and Wisdom when it is in its natural quality, so when it is corrupted it produceth Folly; there being as little distance between the one and the other, as between the string of a Lute stretched up to the highest pitch, and the same when it is broken: Which made Montaigne say, That there is but one turn of a peg between Wisdom and Folly. If this Melancholy humour be movable and bilious, it will cause imaginations of various absurd things, like to those of Dreams. Wherefore Aristotle compares the fame to waters in motion, which always represent objects ill. If it be more fixed, it causeth insuperable Opiniastry. As is observed in those who fancy themselves Pitchers, Cocks, Geese, Hens, Glass, Criminals, Dead, Damned, and so in infinitum, according to the diversity of Fancies, Conditions, and Inclinations. The Folly of Love is of this kind, which hath caused desperation and death to many. Lastly, Mania, or Madness, is an alienation of the Mind, not mingled with fear and sadness, as Melancholy is, but with boldness and fury, caused by the igneous and boiling Spirits of the other Choler, which possessing the Brain, and at times the whole Body, by their immoderate heat render Men foolish, furious, and daring. Such a heat, that they are insensible of cold in mid Winter, though stark naked; sometimes so excessive that it degenerates into Lycanthropy, rage, and many other furious diseases. By the induction of all which species of Folly, it appears, that whence soever the matter which causeth Folly ariseth, it makes its impression in the Brain. For though the Soul be as much in the heel as the head, yet it is improper to place Wisdom in the heel, but it may reasonably be assigned to the Brain. Yet to circumscribe it to a certain place, excluding any other, methinks aught no more to be done, then to assign some particular corner of a Chamber to an Intelligence, of the Nature of which the Soul participates.  
The Third said, Melancholy is the cause of Prudence only by accident, hindering by its dryness the too great mobility of the Blood, and by its coldness checking the too impetuous sallies of the Spirits; but it is by itself the cause of Folly, and also of the two other Syncopies, Eclipses, and Alienations of the Judgement which are observed in the Apoplexy and the Epilepsy, or Falling-sickness. If Melancholy abound in the Brain, it either possesses its ventricles, or predominates over its temper. If it be in the ventricles, it either molests them by its malignity and acrimony, and causeth the Epilepsy; or else it fills them, and causeth the Apoplexy. For as we put Oil upon a piece of Wine that is prone to decay and sour; which Oil being aerious, and consequently humid, by its subtle and unctuous humidity keeps its particles so united, that the Spirits of the Wine cannot penetrate through it; and so being covered by it, they are restrained and tarry in the Wine: In like manner Melancholy by its tenacious and glutinous viscosity, like black shining pitch, keeps its particles so conjoined, that the Spirit contained in the ventricles, cannot issue forth into the Nerves to serve for voluntary motion and the functions of sense; whence follows their cessation. But if the Melancholy Humour presseth the ventricles by its troublesome weight, than they retire, and by their retiring cause that universal contraction of the Nerves. If this Humour prevail over its temper, than it causeth deliration or Dotage, and that in two manners. For if it exceed in dryness, which is a quality that admits degrees, then by that dryness (which is symbolical and a kin to heat) it attracts the Spirits to itself, as it were to make them revolt from their Prince, and to debauch them from their duty; employs them to fury and rage, and causes madness, making them follow its own motions, which are wholly opposite to Nature. For being cold, dry, black, gloomy, an enemy to light, society and peace, it aims at nothing but what is destructive to Man. But if the cold in this humour exceed the dry, than it will cause the disease called Melancholy, which is pure Folly, and makes the timorous, trembling sad fools; for cold not only compresseth and encloseth the Spirits in the Brain, and stupifies them so as to become unactive, but hath also a back blow upon the Heart, the reflux of its infection exhaling even to that seat of life, and straightening it into itself, whereby its Spirits become half mortified. Moreover, this Humour sometimes piercing through the Brain comes about with a circumference, and lodges amongst the Humours of the Eye, placing itself before the pupil, and the Crystalline, under the Tunicles which cover it: by which means the Melancholy persons seem to behold dreadful Objects abroad, but it is within his Eye that he sees them. As for the same reason they who have the beginning of a suffusion imagine that flies, flocks of wool, or little hairs, because of the Humour contained there; which if it be Blood, they seem red; if Choler, yellow; if Melancholy, black. But in all the cases hitherto alleged, methinks, the Seat of Folly is the same with that of Imagination, which is the Brain, and not any of the ventricles in particular: for since the Intellect acteth upon the phantasms of the Imagination, this upon the report of the Common Sense, and this upon the information of the External Senses, which are diffused throughout all the Brain, and each possesseth a part of it, the whole Brain must necessarily contribute to Ratiocination.   

II. Whether Women or Men are more inclined to Love.  
Upon the Second Point, the First said, Women are of a more amorous complexion then Men. For the Spirits of Women being more subtle, (according to Aristotle's Maxim, That such as have more tender flesh have more subtle Spirits) they are carried with more violence to amiable Objects. And Love being, according to Plato, the offspring of Plenty and Indigence; that of Women arising from Indigence and Necessity, moves them more powerfully to obtain what they need, then that of Men, which proceedeth from Plenty and a desire to communicate. And therefore the Philosopher saith, the Woman desires the Man, in the same manner that the first Matter doth new forms, wherewith it is insatiable. The little knowledge they have of the goodness of what they affect causeth them also to love with greater ardour. Moreover, the Restraint which they ought to observe, with shame and fear, makes the inward motion more violent, and the inquietudes greater; And, like Fire covered with ashes, they preserve their Love under a honest modesty much longer than Men, who discover theirs undiscretely. The Hysterical Fits, Jaundice, Green-sicknesses, and other dangerous symptoms which Love produces in them, even to Erratical Fury, evidence that this Passion is much more violent in them then in Men, since it is able so notably to alter their natural constitution. Wherefore if we believe the Soothsayer Tiresias, Nature has in requital advantaged them above Men in the enjoyment of the fruits of that Love.  
The Second said, That the Woman is more inclined to Love, and also loves more constantly than the Man, because of the weakness of Knowledge. For proof of which it must be observed that Knowledge gives the condition to Good, which is the Object of the Will, and the reason of Amability. Good hath from itself and its own principles the nature of goodness, which consists in a twofold convenience; the one absolute, in reference to the thing which it accomplishes and perfectionates; the other relative, in regard to other things to which that Good may be referred, and by which it may be participated under the notion of Honour, Profit, or Pleasure. But the being amiable, it derives from the Knowledge. As Colours have from their own principles, (which are the four First Qualities blended in the Mixed Body) their being of Colour, but not their being visible, which they derive from the Light; without which Scarlet is indeed, in the night, Scarlet, but not visible. So the being amiable is derived to the Object by the light of our Knowledge. Whence we see, that many times evil is loved, because it is judged good. This being premized, it follows, that Man who knows more clearly loves more slightly. He knows better, because he hath more heat, and consequently a more quick Imagination, and so a stronger Knowledge. For Minds are equal, and differ not but by reason of the Phantasms. Moreover, he is more dry, which hinders his Knowledge from being obscured with the clouds of Humidity. On the contrary, the Woman being colder hath less vigour in her Imagination; and being more moist, hath her Phantasms more thick by the vapour and inundation of humidity; and consequently hath a weaker reflection. For the dryness in Man is that which occasions the reflection of his Knowledge; because it doth not so easily obey the motion of heat, and follow it, as humidity doth; and so the heat being active is constrained to reflect to take and carry along with it the dryness which remains behind; and thus being forced to stay, and being incapable of idleness, it employs itself upon the Phantasm already formed, and contemplates it better than before. On the contrary, the Woman pursues her point and goes forward, because her moisture follows what heat she hath. Thence it is that her first thoughts prevail over her second. For having but few reflections, the vigour of their Knowledge, being almost always direct, languisheth in a little time. Moreover, the Man being more perspicacious, knoweth better than the Woman that all visible Good is frail and inconsiderable, and mingled with much impurity and imperfection. Which the Woman cannot judge so well. Yea, I say, 'tis a sign of a very good Spirit to be inconstant in Love. For Good▪ in general, being the Object of the Will, every particular good is but a parcel of it. The strong Mind hath no sooner tasted one Sensual Good but it despises it, as not containing the amplitude of its Object, and therefore goes to seek others.  
The Third said, That indeed the less we know imperfect things, the more we love them. Whence they who are unbiased are soon taken with the first Objects: But, on the contrary, perfections the greater they are, the more exactly they require to be known; as the work of an excellent Painter cannot meet with Eyes too piercing, nor persons too skilful, to make known its excellence. But the Knowledge alone of what is lovely is not enough to excite us to love it; for Eunuches and impotent Old Men want not Knowledge, but that inward ardour is excited by the abundance of Spirits that kindle Love; which their coldness is no longer fit to produce. Which being granted, Men will then have more Love than Women for Objects, which deserve it, because they have more Knowledge; and also they will have more for those which do not deserve it, because they abound more with those Spirits.    

CONFERENCE XV.  
I. How long a Man may continue without eating. II. Of the Echo.  

I. How long a Man may be without Eating.  
UPon the First Point all agreed, though in several words, That if Definitions are dangerous in Law, they are no less in Physic; and the more a Man knows, the more he finds himself deterred from establishing Maxims: which is principally true in the present Subject, the great diversity of circumstances not permitting a limitation of the time. For the understanding whereof, it is to be observed that our Body is like a Lamp, to which the natural heat is instead of Fire, and the radical moisture of Oil. An Embnyo would be as soon dead as formed, if the Blood of the Mother who gave him life did not serve for Oil and Matter to entertain the natural heat which consumeth part thereof, concocteth and disi●●●teth the rest, and by little and little extendeth what the genitures have contributed into Bones, Nerves, Veins, Arteries, Muscles, and Skin; till the House becoming too little for the Inhabitant, and he a greater Lord then at his first entrance, and too burdensome to his Landlady, his Harbingers take up a lodging for him elsewhere. And whereas before he lived in common, and with the life of his Mother, he thenceforth begins to keep his ordinary apart, yet so regular, that he needs no more for day and night but his two bottles. Now if we speak of these, it is certain that a newborn Child hath been frequently seen two or three days without sucking, and continually to reject the Milk which the Nurse offered to distil into his Mouth: The nourishment which he had drawn by the Navel in too great abundance supplying that defect, as the yelk of the Egg doth in the Body of the Chicken newly hatched. But when he begins to suck, the fluidity of Milk doth not afford him nourishment solid enough to serve all that time. And therefore the Cynic Cratippus was ridiculous when he writ a Letter to his Son's Nurse to make him fast, that he might be accustomed to abstinence betimes; that Age being no more capable of a Habit then of Discipline. Do Children use more solid food? Hypocrates saith, they bear fasting more uneasily then grown Men, and these then Old Men, because they abound more with natural heat, especially they, saith he, who have the best Wits. Moreover, Tempers, Seasons, Countries, different exercises, diversity of Food, Custom, and the disposition of Health, and the Organs, make a notable difference herein. Of Tempers, the Cholcrick is the most impatient of fasting. They cannot sleep unless their Belly be full, and by its mild vapours temper the acrimonious exhalations of their Choler; which otherwise causeth the exasperated Spirits to move in the Arteries and in the Organs of the Senses; instead of filling them with the benign vapours which cause sleep. Hence the Proverb, Choler and Hunger make a Man fretful; and, the Hungry Belly hath no Ears. Likewise the Sanguine is not very fit for long abstinence. The Melancholy bears it better, but above all, the pituitous and Phlegmatic. To these one day's fasting is no more trouble than to the others to want a Breakfast. Yea, should no other consideration lead them to fasting, they would be sick unless they sometimes debarred themselves from a meal or two a day. Examples of fasting are afforded by Bears, Sea-calves, Dormice, Snails, Serpents, and other Infects, which remain for several Months hid in their Caverns using rest instead of food; their natural heat being then so weak, that the fat or viscous phlegm wherewith they are provided, suffices to support them all that time. Of the Seasons, Winter causes such as fast to think the days longer than the Sun makes them; because the natural is then most vigorous. Next Winter, Autumn is least proper, for the same reason; and because the Spirits need reparation of the loss caused to them by the Summer. The Spring is more fit, in regard of the plenty of Blood which then boyles in us. But Summer most of all, because there needs less fuel for a less fire, as our internal heat is at that time. Of Regions, the cold and Northern are less compatible with abstinence, the hot and Southern more, but the temperate most of all. Whence we see that the Orientals fast more easily for many days together, than we one single day. Of Exerises, as the more violent disturb the digestions, (as we see in those that ride post) the moderate promote them, and make room for Aliments; so they who use little or none at all, need the less food. Solid Victnals are longer before they be subdued in the Stomach then liquid; the fat and of oiley, afford most nourishment. Therefore Bread hath a great stroke in digestion, as being all Oil. As is seen in the correction of some Medicaments which is done with burnt Bread; for a piece of Bread as big as one's thumb being set on flame will burn as long as the same weight of Oil. Whence Abstinence is more supportable after such kind of food, then after broth or potch'd eggs. But Custom is so considerable in this matter, that those who are used to make four meals a day, are no less troubled with intermitting them, than others are one of their two ordinary repasts. And experience shows, that if you take up an ill custom of drinking at bedtime without necessity, you must use violence to yourself to break it off. Yet the disposition of the Body is the main matter, whether we consider the diversity of Organs destinated for nutrition; whence those that have large stomaches and Livers sooner yield to hunger, or whether we divide Bodies into such as are healthy, (which dispense with less eating) and such as are distempered with diseases, the actions whereof are depraved. Amongst which we should speed ill if we looked for abstinence in those who have a Boulimie, or Canine Hunger, proceeding either from the too great suction of the Mesaraick Veins, of which the Stomach is made sensible by the Nerves of the sixth Conjugation; or because the Melancholy humour designed to stimulate the stomach, and provoke Appetite by its acrimony, continually flows thither, and not after the concoction is perfected: The cure of which Malady consists in eating, and chiefly in drinking pure Wine, which is distributed more speedily than any nourishment. But when those Mesaraick Veins suck no more Chyle, either because their passages are stopped, or for that the above mentioned acide liquor is diverted elsewhere, then ariseth a disease called Anorexie, or Nausea, whereunto the abstinence of those must be referred who have continued some weeks, yea months, and years, without eating and drinking. For we may well wonder at that Hydropic Person, to whom his Physician having forbidden drink, he went to him at the years end to ask him whether it were time to drink. But we may wonder more at what we find in Histories, (even of our own time) which are full of relations of persons of either sex, that lived some years without taking any Aliment. M. Cytoys (Physician to the Cardinal Duke of Richelieu, a Learned Man, and who needs no other Elogium but the choice of such a Master) published a very ingenious treatise above twenty years since, concerning a young Maid of Confoulans in Poictou, which lived many years in that manner. And lately there was such another in the Province of Berry. Some have conceived such persons to be nourished with thick Air by the Lungs, taking that for a Maxim which is not agreed upon, That Inanimate things (and much less the Elements) can nourish. Some ascribe the cause to the relaxation of the Nerves, which hinders the stomach from being sensible of the suction of the Mesaraick Veins. But in my conceit, the reason is, because their Bodies are almost indissoluble, and so compact that nothing exhales from them. Whereunto adding a viscous and tenacious phlegm, a very small heat, and no exercise, the case will be the same as 'tis in a firebrand of Juniper. So we see fire lasts not so long in fifty faggots of straw as in an Armful of Match. Yea, not to detract from Miracles, whereby God so reserves to himself the doing what he pleaseth, that he doth not forbid our enquiring into Natural Causes; since it is held that there have been found sempiternal lamps and other lights, the oily humidity not exhaling out of the vessel, the same may seem more possible in the proportion of our natural heat with its radical moisture: For besides those Examples, we have that of some Animals, and Butterflies fly, engender, and live a long time without nourishment. Which is also seen more particularly in Silkworms, the most exquisite Emblem of the Resurrection that is in Nature. From which disproportion, which appears so great between those who cannot bear one day's fasting, and others who pass years without eating; we may easily conclude (to the end where I began) that there is no limited time as to the question proposed. For though it be ordinarily bounded within seven days, yet a certain person having been cured by a fast of that duration, it cannot be said that all die of that wherewith some are cured.   

II. Of the Echo.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, The Echo is a reflected, multiplied, and reciprocal sound, or a repercussion of sound made by hollow rocks or edisices; by the windings of which it comes to be redoubled, as the visible species is reflected in the Mirror. It is made when the sound diffused in the Air is driven into some hollow, smooth, and solid Body, which hinders it from dissipating or passing further, but sends it back to the place from whence it came, as the wall makes the ball rebound towards him that struck the same against it. According as the sound is violent, and the space little or great, it returns sooner or slower, and makes an Echo more or less articulate. It may be hence gathered, whether Sound is produced by the Air or some other Body, since fish have the use of their Ears in the Water, and the voice passeth from one end of a Pike to the other, without resounding in the Air. And which is more strange, strike as softly as you please with your singer upon the end of a Mast laid along, he that lays his Ear to the other end, shall hear it better than yourself; and a third that doth the like at the middle, shall hear nothing at all. In the Church de la Dorade, at Tholouze, he that whispers at one end of the wall, is heard, at the other by reason of its smoothness. On the contrary, it is reported that in Scotland there is a stone called the Deaf-stone, because they which are on one side of it hear not the noise, no not of Trumpets sounding on the other, the stone sucking up the sound as a sponge doth Water.  
The Second said, That the Image which we see of ourselves in a Looking-glass, being as it were alive and yet dumb, is less admirable than the Echo which we hear not, and yet hear, complain, sing, and talk with us, without Body and without understanding. This Echo is not only a resilition or reflection of the sound or voice, or rather the voice itself so reflected and sent back by the opposition of some solid Body, which makes it return whence it came, and stops its course and flux. For than it would follow, that as often as we speak we should hear Echoes; seeing we never speak but there is made some resilition of our voice, by means of the opposition of solid Bodies near us, and encompassing us on every side. And yet we seldom hear any thing but our bare voice or some confused murmur; as it happens in new houses, in Churches, under a vault, before a wall, and other such places, in which we ought to hear a very articulate Echo, since the voice is reflected better there then elsewhere. I think therefore then the Echo is made in the same manner as the reflection of the Sun's light; or of the rays of any other fire whatsoever, by hollow mirrors, which unite that light and those rays, and so produce another fire. For as fire cannot be produced by plain or convex mirrors, which reflect but one ray in one and the same place, and all sorts of concave or hollow mirrors cannot be proper for it, because it is necessary that the cavity be disposed and made in such manner that it may be able to reflect a sufficient quantity of rays in one and the same place; which being conjoined and united together, excite again and re-kindle that fire from which they issued, which seemed vanished by reason of the dissipation of its heat and rays: So the Echo, (which is nothing but the same voice reanimated and reproduced by the concourse and reunion of several of its rays dissipated, and afterwards reflected into one and the same place, where they are united and recollected together, and so become audible a second time) cannot be produced by bare walls and vaults, which do not reflect and recollect a sufficient quantity of those rays into one and the same place, but only resemble many of them near one another, whence ariseth a murmuring or inarticulate Echo. Now as Art imitates Nature, and sometimes surpasses her, so we find there are Burning Mirrors which reunite the rays of fire; and in like manner there may be made Artificial Echoes without comparison more perfect than those wherewith chance and the natural situation of places have hitherto acquainted us. Whereunto, beside what I have already mentioned, the Hyperbole, the Parabole, and chiefly the Oval greatly conduce, with some other means which are treated of in the Cataptricks.  
The Third said, The Echo, the Daughter of Solitude, and Secretary of weak Minds, (who without distrusting her loquacity, fruitlessly acquaint her with their secret thoughts) teaches us not to declare our secrets to any person, since even stones and rocks cannot conceal them, but she especially affords entertainment to Lovers; possibly because she owns the same Father with Love, namely, Chance. For as no Love is more ardent than that which arises from the unlooked for glances of two Eyes; from the collision of which issues a spark, little in the beginning, but which blown up by the violence of desires, grows at length into a great flame; so though Art studies to imitate the natural Echo, and the pretty conceits of that Nymph, yet it never equals her graces which she borrows only from the casual occurrence of certain sinuosities of Rocks and Caverns in which she resides; the rest of her inveiglements remain unknown to Men; The Cause why Antiquity made her a Goddess. All which we can truly say of her, is to define her a reflection of the voice made by an angle equal to that of incidence: Which is proved, because the Echoes in narrow turnings are heard very near him that sings. 2. Nature always works by the shortest way, which is the straight; therefore Reflection is made by the same. 3. When the voice is received in a straight line it forms no distinct Echo, because it is united with the same direct line whereby it was carried, which by that means it dissipateth and scattereth. The same happens in a convex line. But if the Body which receives it be concave, it will recollect it from the perpendicular of the speakers mouth towards that Body, and 'tis by the concourse of the voice reflected in that line that the Echo is formed. 4. The Body which receives the voice must be sonorous, which none is except it be hollow. From which four propositions I conceive, the way may be derived to imitate the Echo, and tame that wood-Nymph in some manner.  
The Fourth said, Vitruvius was not ignorant of this Artifice, having very dextrously imitated the Nature of the Echo, by the convenient situation of some earthen vessels, partly empty, and observing a proportion of plenitude to vacuity; almost like that which some Musicians make use of to represent their six voices. And that which hath been made in the Tuilleries justifies him. Yet Art finds a greater facility in this matter, near Lakes, Hills, and Woods, naturally disposed for such a re-percussion. But which increases the wonder of the Echo, is its reduplication, which is multiplied in some places seven times and more; the reason whereof seems to be the same with that of multiplication of Images in Mirrors. For as there are Mirrors which not only receive the species on their surface so plainly as our Eye beholds, but cannot see the same in the Air, though they are no less there then in the Mirror; so there are some that cast forth the species into the Air, so that stretching out your arm, you see another arm as it were coming out of the Mirror to meet yours. In like manner it is with the voice. And as a second and a third Mirror rightly situated, double and treble the same species; so other Angles and Concavities, opposite to the first, cause the voice to bond, and by their sending it from one to another multiply it as many times as there are several Angles; but indeed, weaker in the end then in the beginning, because all Reaction is less than the First Action.    

CONFERENCE XVI.  
I. How Spirits act upon Bodies. II. Whether is more powerful, Love or Hatred.  

I. How Spirits act upon Bodies.  
IT is requisite to understand the Nature of ordinary and sensible actions, that we may judge of others; as in all Sciences a known Term is laid down to serve for a rule to those which are enquired. So Architects have a Level and a Square, whereby to discern perpendicular Lines and Angles. Now in Natural Actions between two Bodies there is an Agent, a Patient, a Contact, (either Physical or Mathematical, or compounded of both) a Proportion of Nature and Place, and a Reaction. Moreover, Action is only between Contraries; so that Substances and Bodies having no contraries, act not one against the other, saving by their qualities: Which, nevertheless, inhering in the subjects which support them, cause Philosophers to say, that Actions proceed from Supposita. Now that which causeth the difficulty in the Question, is not that which results from the Agent; for the Spirit is not only a perpetual Agent, but also a pure Act; nor that which proceedeth from the Patient; for Matter which predominates in Bodies, is of its own Nature, purely Passive. But 'tis from the want of Contact. For it seemeth not possible for a Physical Contact to be between any but two complete substances. And if we speak of the Soul which informs the Body, it is not complete; because it hath an essence ordinated and relative to the Body. If we speak of Angels or Daemons, there is no proportion of Nature between them and Bodies, and much less resemblance as to the manner of being in a place. For Angels are in a place only definitively, and Bodies are circumscribed with the internal surface of their place: How then can they act one upon the other? Nor can there be reaction between them. For Spirits cannot part from Bodies. But on the other side, since Action is only between Contraries, and Contraries are under the same next Genus, and Substance is divided into Spiritual and Corporeal, there ought to be no more true Action then between the Soul and the Body, both Contraries; not only according to the acception of Divines who constantly oppose the Body to the Spirit, and make them fight one with the other; but speaking naturally, it is evident that the proprieties of the one being diametrically opposite to those of the other, cause a perpetual conflict with them; which is the same that we call Action. Contact is no more necessary between the Soul and the Body to infer their action, than it is between the Iron and the Loadstone which attracts it. What Proportion can be found greater than between Act and Power, the Form and the Matter, the Soul and the Body, which are in the same place. As for Reaction, supposing it to be necessary (whereof yet we see no effect in the Sun, nor the other Celestial Bodies, which no Man will say suffer any thing from our Eye, upon which nevertheless they act, making themselves seen by us: And Lovers are not wholly without reason when they say a subject makes them suffer, remaining itself unmoveable.) It is certain that our Soul suffers little less than our Body, as is seen in griefs and corporal maladies, which alter the free functions of the Mind, caused by the influence of the Soul upon the Body through Anger, Fear, Hope, and the other Passions. The Soul than acts upon the Body, over which it is accustomed to exercise Dominion from the time of our Formation in our Mother's womb, it governs and inures it to obey; in the same manner as a good Rider doth a Horse whom he hath managed from his youth, and rides upon every day. Their common contentment facilitates this obedience; the instruments the Soul makes use of are the Spirits, which are of a middle nature between it and the Body. Not that I fancy them half spiritual and half corporeal, as some would suppose, but by reason they are of so▪ subtle a Nature that they vanish together with the Soul: So that the Arteries, Ventricles, and other parts which contain them, are found wholly empty immediately after death.  
The Second said, That if we would judge aright what ways the Soul takes to act upon the Body, we need only seek what the Body takes to act upon the Soul. For the lines drawn from the centre to the circumference are equal to those from the circumference to the centre. Now the course which it holds towards the Soul is thus. The Objects imprint their species in the Organ of the outward Sense; this carries the same to the Common Sense, and this to the Fancy: The Memory at the same time presents to the Judgement the forepast Experiences which she hath kept in her Treasury; The Judgement by comparing them with the knowledge newly arrived to it by its Phantasms, together with its natural habit of first principles, draws from the same a conclusion which the Will approves as soon as Reason acquiesseth therein. According to the same order the Will consignes the Phantasms in the Memory and the Fancy, this to the Common Sense, and this to the Organs of the Senses. For Example, as soon as my Judgement hath approved the discourse which I make to you, and my Will hath agreed thereunto, she consigned the species to my Memory, that it might remember to reduce them into this order, according to which my Memory distributed them to my Imagination, this to my Common Sense; this to the Nerves appointed for the Motion of my Tongue, and the other Organs of Speech, to recite the same, and now into those of my hand, to write them down to you.  
The Third said, That the clearing of the Question propounded depended upon two others. First, what link or union there may be between a Spiritual and a Corporeal thing. Secondly, (supposing that of the six sorts of Motion the Spirits can act only by the Local, how they can touch a Body to remove it locally; since there is no Contact but between Bodies. To the first I answer, that there is no need of union, such as that which joins the Soul to the Body, for joining the Act with its true Power; if there be any in us, it must be that which we see is necessary for the communion of Action. For when Actions cannot be exercised but by two parties of different Nature, there is found an Union between those different Natures, which is very natural, and founded upon the necessity of such Action. Wherefore I am so far from thinking the union of the Soul with the Body a strange thing, that I should wonder more if there were none. For the better understanding whereof, it is to be observed that our Soul hath two sorts of Actions; one peculiar to itself, as to Will, and to understand; the other common with the Body, as to See, Hear, Feel, etc. These latter are as much natural as the former. And as, if it were in a State in which it could not exercise the former, that State would be violent to it, and contrary to its Nature; so it is equally troublesome to her while she cannot exercise the latter. Since therefore it is a part of the Nature of the Soul to be able to exercise its functions, it is consequently natural to it to be united to the Body; seeing without such union it cannot exercise those functions. Now I am no more solicitous to know what this union is, then to understand what that is which unites one part of an essence with the other; since the Body is in some manner the essence of the Soul, making one suppositum and individual with it, and the Soul hath not its Nature entire, saving when it is united with the Body. I pass to the Second, and say, that, supposing two sorts of Contact, one of a suppositum, the other of Virtue; the Spirits touch the Body, which they move locally, by a Contact of Virtue; by impressing the force of their motive faculty upon the Body which they will move; as my hand impresseth its motive virtue upon the ball which I fling; which virtue, though extrinsical, persists in the ball as long as it moves, even when it is distant from my hand. And although there is some disparity, inasmuch as the hand and the ball are both corporeal, which a Spirit and a Body are not; yet since our Soul applies its motive virtue to the Body which it animates, it is probable there are many qualities common both to Spiritual and Corporeal Substances; as is the power of acquiring habits. And it is also likely that the power of moving from one place to another, which is in a Spirit, is not different in specie from that which is in a Horse, although their Subjects differ. If therefore the motive faculty of Bodies is that of the same species with that of Spirits, why should we account it strange that that of a Spirit should be communicated to a Body?  
The Fourth said, That the Example of our Lord carried by the Devil to the top of a Mountain and of a pinnacle of a Temple, shows sufficiently that Daemons can act upon Bodies, and that all natural things falling under the cognisance of Sense are movable in their activity; yet not at once, and in gross, but one thing after another. For an Angel not being an Informing Form, tied and connected to any particular sensible Nature (as the Rational Soul is) but an Assisting Form, that is, an External Agent which moves and agitates it to pleasure, it is indifferent, and can determine, to move what Body, it pleases. But sensible things are not subject to Spirits, saving so far as Local Motion. For the Devil acts either upon the Body, or upon the Soul, as it is in its Organs. If upon the Body, he either doth it alone, or by the intervention of another Agent. If the latter, then there must be a Local Motion to apply the same to the Body upon which he causeth it to act for the tormenting or moving of it. If he doth it by himself immediately, and causeth pain in the parts, it is either by solution of continuity, or by distension of those parts, or by compression of them. All which is no more but dislocating them, and moving them out of their right situation. If he causes a Fever, it is either by collecting the humours from all the parts; For Example, Choler, which congregated together in too great quantity, distempers the Body; or else by restraining the perspiration of the fuliginous vapour, which is the excrement of the third Concoction; and being withheld within causeth the putrefaction of the humours: and all this is local motion too. By which also he produceth all the diseases which he is able to cause, inspiring a putrid Air, which like Leven sowers and corrupts the humours. If he acts upon the Senses and the Passions, he doth it either outwardly, by some mutation of the Object, or inwardly, by some alteration of the Faculty. If the former, it is because by a Local Motion he forms a Body, heaping together, uniting and adjusting the materials necessary thereunto; as the Air, an aqueous vapour, a terrene and unctuous exhalation, and the heat of the Sun, or some other, which he employs artificially (according to the experience which he hath acquired throughout so many Ages) till he make them correspond to the Idea of the Body which he designs to form. All the Actions of Men are performed in like manner, by putting together, conjoining, or retrenching, or separating things: In one word, by apposition or separation. If he acts internally upon the Faculty, 'tis either upon the Fancy, or the Appetite, or the External Sense. Upon the Fancy, either by compounding one Phantasm of many, as it happens in sleeping, or else by acting upon a single one, to make it appear more handsome or ugly; More handsome, by the concourse of many pure, clear, refined Spirits, which enliven and embellish that Phantasm; as we see a thing appear more handsome in the Sun; More ugly, by the arrival of certain gloomy and dark Spirits, which usually arise from the humour of Melancholy In the Appetite, if he excites Love there, 'tis by the motion of dilatation expanding the Spirits, and making them take up more room; If Hatred or Sadness, it is coarcting the same Spirits by compression. He can also cause a subtle mutation in the outward Senses internally, especially upon the sight. As we see those that have a suffusion beginning, imagine that they see Pismires and Flies, which others besides themselves behold not. Moreover, Melancholy persons often terrified with various frightful representations; the cause whereof is an humour extravasated between the Tunicles of the Eye under the Cornea, before the Crystalline which disturbs the sight with various shapes by reason of its mobility; as the Clouds appear to us of several figures. Thus and more easily can the Devil trasfer the humours, and, managing them at his pleasure, make them put on what figure he will, to cause delusion. In fine, all this is performed by the Local Motion of the parts, humours, or Spirits.  
The Fifth said, That the foundation of doubting, is, that there is required proportion between the Agent and the Patient. Which is proved, because it is requisite that the patient which is in Power be determined by the form received; and it seemeth that a spiritual thing cannot produce a form that may determine a material thing. That it produceth nothing material, is evident, because the action and the product are of the same Nature. Now the action of a Spiritual Entity cannot be material, to speak naturally. Yet it is certain that God acts in corporeal things, though he is a pure Spirit. But it may be answered, That an Infinite Power is not obliged to the Rules of Creatures; Besides, that his Ubiquitary Presence sufficeth to impart Motion to all; as also that he containing all things eminently is able to produce all things. But if to contain eminently is to have a more perfect Being, capable to do what the lesser cannot; this is not satisfactory. For the Question is, How that more perfect Immaterial Being can produce that which Material Being's produce. To which, the saying that it is a more perfect Being, doth not satisfy. For then an Angel should be naturally able to produce all the perfections which are inferior to him; which is absurd. It follows therefore, that the Cause must contain the Effect, that it may be able to produce it; and that, since a spiritual Being doth not contain material things, either those which we call Immaterial, are not so at all; or else God immediately produceth in them the effects which we attribute to them. For I see not how immateriality is inferred from immortality, since there may be an incorruptible matter, such as that of the Heavens is. Which nevertheless is spoken rather to make way for some better thought, then that I hold it as my own.  
The Sixth said, That there may be some Medium serving for the union between the Body and the Soul, beside the Animal, Vital, and Natural Spirits; to which Medium, the many wonderful effects which we are constrained to ascribe to Occult Qualities ought to be referded. For as they who know not that the Ring which Jugglers make to skip upon a Table, according to the motion of their fingers, is fastened to them by the long Hair of a Woman, attribute that Motion to the Devil: So they who cannot comprehend the subtlety of the Medium, uniting not only the Body with the Soul which informs it, but also the other Spirits with the Body which they agitate, find no proportion therein, and are constrained to let experience cross their reason. Now to understand the Nature of this uniting Medium, I conceive is as difficult as to give an account of the Sympathies and Antipathies of things.   

II. Which is more powerful Love or Hatred.  
Upon the Second Point, the First said, That E●pedocles had reason to constitute Love and Hatred for the two Principles of Nature: which though Aristotle endeavours to confute, yet is he constrained to acknowledge the same thing, though disguised under other words. For when he saith, that two of his Principles are contraries and enemies, namely, Form and Privation; and nevertheless that they are united in one common Subject which is the Matter; what is it else but to confess that all things are made and composed by the means of Love and Hatred? They who own no other Principles but the Four Elements, are of the same opinion, when they say that all Mixed Bodies are made with a discording concord, and a concording discord. For as the Elements united together will never compose an Animal, unless they be reduced to a just proportion, and animated, by rebatement of some little of the vigour of their active qualities; so if there be no kind of War and Amity between them, if the Hot act not against the Humid, the Animal will never live: since Life is nothing but the action of Heat upon Humidity. However, Amity hath something more noble, and excites greater effects than Enmity. For the former is the cause of the Generation and Preservation of Mixed Bodies, and the latter of their dissolution and corruption. Now it is much more noble to give and preserve Being, then to destroy it. Whence God himself found such perfection in his Creation, and was so pleased with his Divine Work, that though it frequently deserves by its crimes to be annihilated, yet his Punishments have not hitherto proceeded so far. This is no less true in Spiritual and Intellectual Substances then in Natural. God's Love hath more noble effects than his Hatred. For (to leave to Divines the consideration of that Love which had the power to draw the Second Person of the Trinity from Heaven, with that which produces the Third▪ as also to leave them to proclaim that God loves Good Actions, and that the effect of this Love is Eternal Bliss▪ that he hates Sins, and that the effects of this hatred are the punishments of Hell; that it is manifest that the glory of Paradise is much greater than of those Chastisements; since what ever penalties God inflicts upon Man for his mis-deeds, he renders Justice to him, and does not reduce him into a state inferior to or against his Nature; but when he rewards with Eternal Glory, he exalts our Nature infinitely higher than it could aspire;) let us consider Love and Hatred in Men, and particularly as Passions, (according as the Question propounded seems principally to be understood,) and no doubt Love will be found more violent than Hatred. To judge the better whereof, we must not consider them nakedly and simply, as Love is nothing else but an inclination towards Good, and Hatred an Aversion from Evil; nor yet as such Good or Evil is present: For in these two manners they have no violence, nor any Motions, since according to the received Maxim; When the End is present, all Motion and Action ceaseth. But to know which of these two passions acts with most force and violence for the attaining of its end, we must contemplate them with all the train and attendance of the other Passions which accompany them; not as the one is an inclination to Good, and the other an Aversion from Evil, present; For in this sense, no doubt, a Present Evil which causeth Grief, is more sensible and violent than a Present Good which causeth Pleasure; but as the one is a Desire of the Absent Good which is proposed, and the other a Flight from an Absent Evil which is feared; I conceive the Passions excited by an Absent Evil have no great violence, but rather partake of heaviness and stupidity, as Fear and Sadness; which render us rather unmoveable and insensible, then active and violent in our Motions. The Passions which lead towards an Absent Good are otherwise: For Hope, which is, by the testimony of Aristotle, a species of Love, contemns and surmounts all difficulties which hinder its attaining to its Good.  
Here one objecting, That Anger, which arises from Hatred and inward Grief hath more violent effects than Hope and the other Passions; It was answered, that Anger consists of a mixture of Love and Hatred; therefore Homer says, that to be angry is a thing more sweet than Honey. For Anger tends to Revenge, and ceaseth when we are revenged for the wrong we apprehend done to us. Now Revenge seems a Good and delectable thing to the person that seeks it; and therefore all the great Ebullitions and Commotions observed in Anger ought to be referred to the Love and Desire of Revenge. Besides, the Motions which attend Hatred are Motions of Flight, as those which accompany Love are Motions of Pursuit; and Anger being rather a Pursuit and seeking of Revenge, than a Flight from any evil, it is more reasonably to be ranked under Love than under Hatred. Again, we see amorous persons are more easily put into heat, than even those which are drawn up in battalia, and ready to kill one another. In fine, if Hatred and all the Passions attending it, have any force and violence, Love is the prime cause thereof; we hate no thing but because we love some thing, and that more or less, proportionably as we love. Wherefore the Philosophers who would introduce an Apathy, and banish all the Passions, should have done well rather to extinguish Love. For he who loves no thing, hates no thing; and when we have lost any thing, our sadness and resentment is proportionable to the Love we had for it. He that loves no thing, fears no thing; and if it be possible, that he does not love his own life, he does not fear death. It is not therefore to be enquired, which excites the greatest Commotions, Love or Hatred; since even those which Hatred excites proceed from Love.  
The Third said, That the Acts or Motions of the Appetite are called Passions, because they make the Body suffer, and cause an alteration in the Heart and Pulse. Such as aim at Pleasure enervate the Motion of Contraction; because they dilate the Spirits, and augment that of Dilatation. Whereas, on the contrary, those which belong to Sadness diminish the Motion of Dilatation, because they further that of Contraction. We may consider the Passions either materially or formally; the former consideration denotes the Impression which they make upon the Body; the latter, the relation to their Object. So Anger considered materially is defined, An Ebullition and Fervour of the Blood about the Heart; and formally, A Desire of Revenge. This being premized, I affirm, That Hatred is much more powerful than Love; if we consider them materially, not as alone, but as leaders of a party, viz. Love with all the train of Passions that follow the same towards Good, and Hatred, with all its adherents, in reference to Evil. For either of them taken apart, and by itself, make very little impression and alteration in the Heart. Love is a bare acknowledgement of, and complacency in good, and goeth no further as Love. Hatred is nothing else but a bare rejection, disavowing, and aversion of Evil. In verification of which conception of the Nature of those Passions, it is evident that the Effects ascribed to Love, as Ecstasy, Languishing, are the Effects not of Love, but of Hope, weary and fainting through its own duration. Now these Passions being thus taken, Love causeth less alteration upon the Body than Hatred. For its highest pitch is Delight, which is materially an expansion of the Spirits of the Heart towards the parts of the whole Body; wherein appeareth rather a cessation from Action, than any violence. But Hatred which terminates in Anger makes a furious havoc. It dauseth the Blood to boil about the Heart, and calls to its aid the same Passions that are subservient to Love, as Hope and Boldness, conceiving it a Good to be revenged on the present Evil. The Case is the same also, if they be considered according to their formality. For the Object of Love is a Good, not absolute but according to some consideration; seeing the good of an Animal is its preservation, to which that kind which is called Delectable Good, or the Good of Delight, is ordained as a means to the end. But the Object of Hatred is the Evil which destroys an Absolute and Essential being of an Animal. For which reason it moves more powerfully then Good.  
The Fourth said, That for the better judging of the Question, we must suppose that these two Passions are two Agents, which tend each to their different End. For the end of Love is a good Being; That of Hatred, which repels what destroys our Being, is the preservation of Being simply. Now Being is much more perfect naturally then better being, though morally it is not so perfect: and the preservation of Being is of the same dignity with Being. On the other side, it is true that Love is the cause of Hatred, and that we hate nothing but because we love. Yet it doth not follow that Hatred is not more powerful than Love; seeing many times the Daughter is more strong and fair than the Mother. Now if they are brutish Passions, they must be measured by the standard of Brutes. But we see a Dog leave his Meat to follow a Beast, against which he hath a natural animosity. And Antipathies are more powerful than Sympathies; for the former kill, and the latter never give life. Nevertheless, sometimes Love prevails over Hatred. For a Man that loves the Daughter passionately, and hates the Father as much, will not cease to do good to the Father for the Daughter's sake.  
The shortness of the days, and the enlargements upon this Subject, having in this and some of the former Conferences, left no room for Inventions; every one was entrealed to prepare himself for the future; and these two Points were chosen for the next day seven-night.    

CONFERENCE XVII.  
I. Of the several fashions of wearing Mourning, and why Black is used to that purpose rather than any other colour. II. Why people are pleased with Music.  

I. Of the several fashions of wearing Mourning, and why Black is used to that purpose rather than any other colour.  
THe First said, That the greatest part of Mankind, excepting some Barbarians, lamented the death of their friends, and expressed their sadness by external Mourning, which is nothing but the change of Habit. Now they are observed to be of six sorts. The Violet is for Princes. The weeds of Virgins are white in reference to purity. Sky-colour is in use with the people of Syria, Cappadocia and Armenia, to denote the place which they wish to the dead, namely, Heaven. The Yellow, or Fevillemorte, among those of Egypt, to show (say they) that as Herbs being faded become yellow; so Death is the end of Humane Hope. The Grey is worn by the Aethiopians, because it denotes the colour of the Earth, which receives the dead, and into which they return. But the most common, and used throughout all Europe, is Black, which also was always worn by the Romans when they went into Mourning, except during sixty years that they wore white. The wearing of Mourning continued ten months at Rome; the Athenians wore it but one month; the Spartans no more but eleven days. The reason why they have all chosen Black for denoting Sadness, is, because Black is the privation of White, and proceedeth from the defect of Light; so Death is the privation of Life and Light. Possibly too, the reason why the Cypress Tree was esteemed a Funeral Tree, was, because the leaves were of a dark Green, and the Nuts tincture Black, and being cut it never puts forth again; as also Beans were, in regard of the blackness which appears in them and their flowers.  
The Second said, That Experience shows us sufficiently that the Black colour doth not only put us in Mind of our griefs and sadnesses passed, but also is apt excite new. This is known to the Senses, and unknown to Reason, by a certain Divine Appointment, which hath caused that what is manifest to the one, is hidden to the other. As appears, for that nothing is so natural to the Sense of Seeing as Light and Colours. But yet there is nothing in which our Mind sooner finds its weakness, then in the enquiry into the Nature and properties of Colours and Light. Now there are two sorts of blackness, the one Internal, when the Soul turning itself towards the Images, upon report of which a judgement is made, if that Image is Black and deformed, the Soul must conceive that the Objects represented by it, are so also, and thence ariseth horror and sadness; the other external, for the explicating of which, I must crave leave to deflect a little from the ordinary opinion touching the Nature of Colours. I affirm, that Colour and Light are one and the same thing, and differ only in regard of the Subject; so that the lustre of a simple Body is Light, but the lustre of a mixed Body is called Colour. By which account, Light is the Colour of a simple Body, and Colour is the Light of a mixed Body. Whence Mixts approaching nearest to the simplicity of the Element predominant in them, are all Luminous; as precious stones, which are a simple Earth, and without mixture of other Element; and rotten Wood, which having lost the little Air and Fire it had, its humidity also being absumed by the putrefaction, and there remaining nothing almost but Earth, you see how it keeps its splendour amidst the darkness of the night. And this, in my conceit, is the meaning of what Moses saith, when he saith, that God created the Light before the Sun. For God having created the Elements in their natural purity, they were sometimes in that state before mixture; the Earth appeared not, but the Water covered its whole Surface. Every Element was in its own place, and the purity of its Nature: for which reason they had then their first Colour, which is splendour. But as soon as God had mingled them for the forming of Mixts, their Light became clouded and changed into Colour. And hence it was necessary to form a Sun in Heaven, far from all sort of mixture and composition; to the end he might always preserve his Light, and enlighten the world therewith. The Fire preserves itself the most of all in its purity, by reason of its great activity which consumes what ever approaches near it. The other Elements would do so too, if they could preserve themselves in their purity as well as the Fire. But because they would be unprofitable should they remain such, it is necessary that they be mingled one with another, as well to serve for the production of Compounds, as for their Aliment, and several uses. Hence their Light becomes changed into Colour, which is nothing else but a Light extinguished more or less; and, accordingly, we see some Colours more luminous than others. The White is still wholly luminous, the Red wholly resplendent, the Green less, and the Brown begins to grow dark. Lastly, the Black is nothing but Light wholly extinct, and a kind of darkness, and consequently hath nothing of reality, but is a pure Privation which our Eyes perceive not. As our Ear discerneth or perceiveth not silence, but only by not hearing any sound; so neither doth the Sight behold Black and darkness, but when it sees neither Colour nor Light. So that to hear Silence, and see darkness, is (to speak properly) a vain attempt of the Soul, which would fain exert its action of seeing and hearing, and cannot. Hence ariseth the sadness and terror which a deep silence, and the sight of extreme blackness and darkness excites in the Soul. For the Soul knows well, that Life is nothing else but Exercise of its Faculties, of which as soon as any thing is deprived, there remains nothing to be expected but death. She would fain exert her action and cannot; she distinguishes not whether it be through default of the Object, or whether her Faculty be lost, but she finds a privation of her actions, and represents to herself to be in the state of Death; whence ariseth Sadness and Fear. For as our Soul dreadeth nothing so much as Death, so the least suspicion, the least sign and umbrage of Death, is apt to put her into great dejection. And this makes way for the Second Reason, why the Soul becomes sad at the sight of a black Colour, namely, because it never appears in the Body, but Death is at hand. For this Colour is produced by the mortification and extinction of the Spirits, as a Gangrene, which is either caused by Adustion, (whereby Coals become black) or by extreme coldness; thus Old Men are of a leaden Colour tending to blackness. Now the excess of heat and coldness is equally contrary to Life. Wherefore as often as the Soul perceives blackness, either in her own Body or in another, she remembers the Qualities which produced it, and are contrary to Life which she loves; hence ariseth sadness. And hence also it is that we naturally love a Countenance well proportioned with an agreeable Colour, wherein there is found a redness mingled with whiteness, bright and lively with Spirits; which is nothing else but an effect of the Love which our Soul bears to Life. For knowing this to be the Colour of Health, it affects the same even in another, as, on the other side, it abhorreth Death. Look upon a living Body, it is full of brightness; but a dead one is gloomy and dismal; and at the instant that the Soul parts from the Body, a dark shade seems as it were to veil the Countenance. Now that the Soul may understand, it must become like to its Object. Whence Aristotle said, that the Intellect is potentially all things, forasmuch as it can form itself into as many shapes as there are Objects. So then, it will perceive blackness, it must become conformable to Black, which it cannot be without great resentment of grief and sadness; since its natural Colour is its brightness; and to deprive the Soul of brightness and splendour is to deprive it of Life.   

II. Why Men love Music.  
Upon the Second Point the First said, That if Music be not natural to the Heavens, considering the regularity of their Motions, which the custom of always hearing hinders us from perceiving; yet it is so to Man, since he takes such Pleasure therein, that Nurse's quiet the frowardness of their Children in the Cradle by their Songs; the Devotion of grown persons is increased by singing of Psalms; the Pipe and the Drum animate the Soldier to War, and even Horses become more courageous by the sound of the Trumpet; Not to mention David's Harp, which drove away the evil Spirit from Saul, nor the cure which Oboes effect in those that are stung with the Tarantula, causing them to dance till they sweat, by which means they are cured of what otherwise would be mortal. All which seems more to be admired then explicated.  
The Second said, That the Solution of the present Question depends upon this other; namely, why certain Objects excite Pleasure, and others Grief? The truth is, Nature hath joined Grief with Hurtful Objects, and Pleasure with profitable. For otherwise having placed Living Creatures amidst Life and Death, it might have happened that through want of knowledge, or else through intemperance, some Creature might neglect the things which are profitable to it, or made use of such as are hurtful. It is not to be feared that an Ox will eat Wormwood, or that an Animal will not pluck its leg out of the fire: For Pain admonisheth both the one and the other to abstain from those Objects, as on the other side Pleasure attracts us to those which preserve our Nature. This Pleasure is not only in the Object as it is suitable to our Nature, but also in the Action itself. As it is a very sweet thing to live, so it is a great pleasure to exercise the Actions of life, more or less, according as the same are noble or necessary. Whence it is that Nature hath placed more Pleasure in the Action which tends to preserving the species of Men, then in that which preserves every individual in particular, and yet more in this latter, then in that of Seeing, Tasting, and the rest; because that which regards the preservation of the individual, namely, Eating and Drinking, is considerable in reference to Life and Being which it preserves; but the rest are only for well-being. But in the Sense of Hearing there is not observed any Pleasure or Pain arriving by reason of the Object; because in Hearing, as well as in Seeing, the Objects act only intentionally not really and corruptibly. Now Pain and Pleasure are not excited on the part of the Objects, but by real Actions, which cause alteration in their subject. But the Hearing is capable thereof, because it is a Natural Action, and every Natural Action is performed with Pleasure. Whence then cometh the Pain which our Ear receiveth with the sound? It must be observed that the Sense of Touching is diffused through all the Body, and every sensible part admits Pain, which is an Accident of Touching. Upon which account the Ear is endued with Two Senses; it receives not only sounds, but the Tactile qualities. Sounds of themselves excite neither Pain nor Pleasure; but if together with sound the Air enters into the Organ, and strike it too vehemently, or stretches the Membrane more than its Nature is able to bear, Pain is excited in the Ear, not as it is the Instrument of Hearing, but as it is endued with the Sense of Touching. Moreover, Pain may be excited in the Sense of Hearing, another way. For the understanding whereof, it is to be noted, that it is not sufficient that the word of him that speaks be form and articulated in his Mouth by the help of the Teeth and the Tongue; but the Ear must form it anew that you may hear it. For which end it is contrived in form of a Snailshell, at the bottom whereof is placed a Drum, an Anvil, and a Hammer, for the formation of sounds anew. Now as we see the Organs which form words one after another, are troubled and discomposed when they are to form certain sounds which have any Cacophonia or uncouth sound amongst them; as when I say, il alla à Alenson, I feel a certain unaptness in my Organs of speech; and the reason of this unaptness is, because the sequel or coherence of those sounds together, doth not well suit with the manner of the Organs operation; in regard it is natural to shut the Mouth after wide opening it; as we do in the pronunciation of A. Now if another A must be pronounced immediately after, there is need of more force, which is troublesome, or else time must be allowed between both, to shut the Mouth without speaking a word; which is also tedious to the Organ of speech, which hastens as much as he can to pronounce the words intended. So when the Ear comes to form the sounds anew, (as I said it doth) if two or more happen together, which require to be form at once, as they do which have the same tone, or which gives not the Organ leisure to rest from one end to the other, it resents the same unaptness and inconvenience. Hence certain Concord's in Music please the Ear, and others displease it. This is seen ordinarily, that it is displeasing to the Ear to form many sounds at a time, as when two persons speak together; or if it happen that the two sounds presented together to be form are wholly opposite one to the other, as one grave, and the other sharp; the Organ cannot form them both at once, because they require two different ways of operation, to which the Ear cannot attend at the same time. For it operates otherwise in forming a sharp sound then a grave, and they both strike the Organ and rend, it each after its own mode. Whereby it is constrained to form them; but as it is by force, so it is not without Pain. But when those two sounds, the grave and the sharp, are united in one proportion, so that the sharp serves as it were for salt to the other, and they are blended together; this conjunction makes them considered but as one sound, which the Ear finds very agreeable, because it forms the same not only without difficulty, but also with Pleasure. Hence the good Concord of Music delights our Ears so much.  
The Third said, We have suffered under the Tyranny of the Peripatetics too long, whereas the other Philosophers afford us excellent reasons. Plato and Pythagoras will have all things to be Number, or at least a participation and similitude of Numbers. Aristotle agrees too, that Music is Number. Now the perfect Number, according to Pythagoras, is that of Ten; seeing all other Numbers are but repetitions of the first Ten. Of these Numbers the first pair is Female and imperfect; and so is a second in Music. Three is the first Male, and the first degree of perfection; hence a Third is agreeable to the Ear. The Fourth is so likewise, because it makes up the Ten. Add 1, 2, 3, and 4, and you have the grand Number of Ten, the Father of all others. Also a Fifth pleases the Ear wonderfully, because it is an Abridgement of the grand Number, and the marriage of the Male and the first Female. The other Numbers are useless, except the Eighth, because Musicians call it Identity, or Unity, which is a Divine Number, or rather no Number; nor is the Eighth as delightful as it is, accounted by Musicians amongst their Concord's.  
The Fourth said, That the Reason why some Notes are agreeable, and other unpleasing, in Music, is, because the former move the Faculty of the Soul after a manner suitable to it, and the latter do not; as we see an Example of it in Ballads and Dances, where when the Violin or Minstrel hath sounded a brawl which goes well to the cadence, not only the Members of the Dancers comply therewith and follow the same readily, but also the Souls seems to dance with the Bodies; so great Sympathy have they with that Harmony. But if, on the contrary, the power of the Soul be otherwise agitated at the same time, that Harmony, how regular soever, will displease us. Witness the displeasure taken at cheerful airs by those who are in Mourning, to whom doleful notes better agree, which, on the other side, are disagreeable to such as are merrily disposed. Add hereunto the humour of the Fancy, which hath an aversion to some sounds, as well as to some smells. For as for Discords, janglings, and other troublesome sounds, no other cause of their general inacceptableness ought to be sought, than that disproportion and deformity which is sound in things Natural and Artificial, the former being more intolerable than the latter; because the Eye is not struck with the visible species, as the Ear is with sound, and can turn away from the Object which displeaseth it, which the Ear cannot, and is closed with much more difficulty.    

CONFERENCE XVIII.  
I. Of the Original of Winds. II. Why none are contented with their Condition.  

I. Of the Original of Winds  
THere is more resemblance than one would imagine between these two points, The Wind of the Air, and that of Ambition, to which the discontent of Men with their condition is commonly ascribed. As for the First, Some have held that all Wind, even that which blows upon the Sea, comes from the Earth; and that the first conjecture which was entertained of the Region of the West Indies, was taken from the Wind perceived to come from that quarter. But the History of Christopher Columbus, attributing the discovery to Chance thereof, cannot consist with that opinion. There is no Meteor whose effects have more of Miracle, which is defined, An Effect whereof no Natural Cause is seen. For even the Lightning is seen by the brightness of the fire which accompanies it. But the effects of this aim at the highest things, which it overthrows, and you neither see the Agent nor understand it. Yet the Sagacity of Humane Wit is admirable. Sins have served to clear Cases of Conscience. Arsenic, Sublimate, and other poisons, are converted by Physic into Cauteries and other profitable remedies. The Civil Law hath by occasion of evil manners received addition of good Laws. The Winds, which drown Ships, are so managed by the Art of Navigation (which divides them first into four principal, North, East, South, West, and then into eight, by the addition of four half points, and hath at length subdivided them into 32.) that by their help Men sail upon the main Sea, and provide foreign remedies for Physic; Sugar and spices for Kitchens, and employments for many other professions.  
The Second said, That though many causes may agitate the Air, yet all of them are not sufficient to raise a Wind; but the Air must be agitated by some Fume which is raised either from the Earth, and is called an Exhalation, or from the Water, and is called a Vapour; either of which partakes of the Nature of the Element from whence it proceeds. A Vapour is moist, an Exhalation dry. An extrinsical Heat which predominates in them gives them all their motions, and makes them mount on high. And because it is the property of Heat always to move and act, therefore these Fumes are so long in action as the Heat lasts. They arise in company together, and are carried upwards; but are presently separated. For the moisture of the Vapour quencheth the Heat which animated it; so that the sole absence of the Sun, or the occurse of the least Cold, depriving the Vapour of the little Heat which was left in it, and made it still ascend upwards, it becomes more condensed, and falls down in Rain. But an Exhalation hath a greater degree of Heat, which is rendered more active by the dryness and tenacity of the matter. Therefore it ascends till it meets with the Air of the Middle Region, which is thick and congealed, by which being hindered ●o pass further, it seeks a passage on one side or the other. Many times when it strives to rise higher, it becomes engaged among Clouds which enclose it on all sides. Being thus enclosed and straitened, it becomes united together, and thereupon being inflamed, breaks the Clouds, and causes Thunder; or if it ●ind less resistance towards the Earth, it descends with violence to the place from whence it arose, and makes Whirlwinds. But if such Exhalation have not time enough to mount as far as the Middle Region (as it happens most frequently) but as soon as it is drawn up be hindered and enclosed by the Vapour turned into thick and cold Air in the Lower Region of the Air, than Winds are produced in this manner. This Exhalation being unable to mount upwards, because the whole Region is full of thick Air which resists it, it must go either on one side or other; wherefore it tends that way where it meets least resistance. And whereas there are certain seasons wherein the Air is sometimes less thick towards the South; others, wherein it is so towards the North, and the other quarters of Heaven; thence it is that the Winds blow there most usually. Moreover, the reason why the Wind hath a kind of whistling, is, because the Exhalation clasheth with violence against that thick Air. Hence also it is, that Winds are more ordinary in the Night, and about Evening; because in those times the Vapour looseth its Heat through the Sun's absence; and so being become a thick Air, better encloseth the Exhalation, and resisteth the same with more force. But as the Air which issueth out of our Lungs is hot; yet if it be sent forth with some little violence it becometh cold: So though the Exhalation which causeth Wind be never without Heat, yet we never feel the Wind hot. Not that the Air loseth its Heat by motion, as Cardan conceiveth: (For, on the contrary, all things become Hot by motion; the Lead upon Arrows is melted, and the Wood fired, Water becomes thinner and hotter.) But the cause thereof is, for that a strong Wind or Hot Air driven violently draws all the neighbouring Air after it, which Air is Cold, and we feel the coldness thereof. Whence all strong Winds are always cold.  
The Third said, We ought not to seek other causes of Natural Winds than those we find in Artificial Wind; because Art imitates Nature. Artificial Winds (such as those of our Bellows, the most common instruments thereof, are caused by a compression of the Air made by two more solid Bodies than themselves, which thrust the same thorough a narrower place than that of their residence. For the Bellows having sucked in a great quantity of Air, when it's two sides draw together they drive out the same again with violence; And this is that which they call Wind. In like manner, I conceive, two or more Clouds falling upon, and pressing one another impetuously, drive away the Air which is between them. So we blow with our Mouths, by pressing the Air enclosed in the Palate, and shutting the Lips to straighten its eruption. Hereunto they agree who desine Wind to be Air stirred, moved or agitated. But if it be objected that the Clouds are not solid enough to make such a compression, the contrary appears by the noise they make in Thunderclaps.  
The Fourth alleged, That Winds are produced in the World as they are in Man; namely, by a Heat sufficient to elevate, but too weak to dissipate Exhalations; whether that Heat proceedeth from Celestial Bodies, or from Subterranean Fires. Wherefore as Hot Medicaments dissipate flatuosities, so the great Heat of the Sun dissipates Winds.  
The Fifth added, It is hard to determine the Original of Winds, after what our Lord hath said thereof, That we know not whence they come, nor whither they go, and what David affirmeth, That the Lord draweth them out of his Treasures. NevertheIess, I conceive, that different causes ought to be assigned of them according to their different kinds. For although Winds borrow the qualities of the places through which they pass; (whence the Southern and Eastern are moist and contagious, because of the great quantity of Vapours wherewith they are laden by coming over the Mediterranean Sea and the Ocean) yet some Winds are of their own Nature Hot and Dry, making the Air pure and serene; being caused by an Exhalation of the like qualities. Others are so moist that they darken the Air, because they are produced of Vapours. Some places situated near Mountains and Rivers, have particular Winds. But as for those which blow at certain Periods, either every year, or every second year, or every fourth year, (as one that blows in Provence) I refer them to the Conjunction of certain Plants which reign at that time.  
The Sixth said, That Air hath a natural motion of its own, as the Heavens have, otherwise it would corrupt; but meeting some straits, and finding itself penned up, it rallies and reunites its forces to get forth, (as it doth) with violence, and set itself at Liberty; And this with so much the more vehemence as the places through which it passeth are straighter. Whence it is that we always perceive a Wind near a Door or Window half open (or the mouth of a Cave) which ceaseth when they are set wide open.  
The Seventh continued, That which is most difficult to conceive, in reference to the Wind, is its violence, which I hold to proceed from the Rarefaction of a matter formerly condensed, and from the opposition of a contrary. For the place of the Generation of Wind being either the Caverns of the Earth, or the Clouds, the vaporous matter becoming rarified so suddenly that it cannot find room enough to lodge in, breaks forth impetuously; as we see the Bullet is by the same reason violently driven forth by the Air inflamed in the Cannon. Some think that Winds arise also from the Sea, because a Wave is always seen, upon the changing of the Wind, to rise on that side from whence it is next to blow.  
The Eighth said, That their motion is a direct line, because it is the shortest way, but not from below upwards; by reason of the resistance they meet with in the coldness and thickness of the Middle Region of the Air, whence the same thing happens to them that doth to smoke or flame; which arriving at a ceiling or vault, is constrained by the resistance it finds thereby to decline on one side. Also their violence is increased by the adjunction of new Exhalations, as Rivers augment theirs by the access of new streams.   

II. Why none are contenteà with their own condition.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That since the inferior World follows the course of the superior and Celestial, it is not to be wondered if the latter being in continual motion and agitation; the former, whereof Man makes the noblest part, cannot be at rest. For the Stars, according to their several Positions, Aspects, or Conjunctions, move and carry us to desire sometimes one thing, sometimes another. The Ambition and Ignorance of Man are of the party too. The former makes him always desire to have the advantage above others, to pursue Honours and Dignities, and to think that to acknowledge a greater than himself, is to own fetters and servility. The latter represents things to him otherwise then they are, and so causes him to desire them the more, by how much he less understands their imperfections. Whence many times, by changing, he becomes in as ill a case as Aesop's Ass, who was never contented with his condition. But the true Cause, in my opinion, is, because we cannot find in this World a supreme temporal Good, whereunto a concurrence of all outward and inward goods is requisite; and were a Man possessed thereof, yet he could have no assurance that he shall enjoy it to the end of his Life; whence, living in fear of losing it, we should be prone to desire something that might confirm it. The Dignity of the Soul furnisheth me with another reason of our discontentment. For she being derived from Heaven, and knowing that this is not her abiding City, she may taste of terrene things, but findeth them not seasoned to her gust, as knowing that frail and mortal things are not worthy of her, nor suitable to her eternity; And as a sick person that turns himself first on one side, then on the other, to take rest; so the Soul finds her repose in motion. And as morsels swallowed down have no more savour, so the present goods which our Soul possesseth give her no pleasure; but like a Hunter she quits the game which she hath taken, to pursue another.  
The Second said, Though, by a wise Providence of Nature, every one loves his own condition as much or more than another doth, yet there being always some evil mixed with, and adhering to, the most happy state in the world, that evil is the cause that we are never contented therewith. I add further, If it were possible to heap all the goods of the world into one condition, and all kind of evils were banished from the same; yet could it not fill the Appetite of our Soul, which being capable of an infinite Good, if she receive any thing below infinite she is not filled nor contented therewith. Nevertheless, this dissatisfaction doth not proceed from the infirmity and ignorance of the Humane Soul, but rather from her great perfection and knowledge, whereby she judging all the goods of the world less than herself, the goods intermingled with miseries serve her for so many admonitions that she ought not to stay there, but aspire to other goods more pure and solid. Besides these, I have two natural reasons thereof. First, Every Good being of itself desirable, every one in particular may desire all the goods which all Men together possess: Yet it is not possible for him to obtain them; wherefore every one may desire more than he can possess: Whence there must always be frustrated desires and discontents. Secondly, The Desires of Men cannot be contented but by giving them the enjoyment of what they desire. Now they cannot be dealt withal butas a bad Physician doth with his Patients, in whom for one disease that he cures he causeth three more dangerous. For satisfy one Desire, and you raise many others. The poor hungry person asketh only Bread; give it him, and then he is thirsty; and when he is provided for the present, he is solicitous for the future. If he hath money, he is troubled both how to keep it, and how to spend it: Which caused Solomon after he had denied his Soul nothing that it desired to pronounce, That All is vanity and vexation of Spirit.  
The Third conceived, That the Cause of this Dissatisfaction is, for that the conditions of others seem more suitable to us, and for that our Election dependeth on the Imagination, which incessantly proposeth new Objects to the Soul, which she beholding afar off, esteems highly; afterwards considering them nearer, sees (as the Fable saith) that what she accounted a treasure is but a bottle of Hay.  
The Fourth said, That because every thing which we possess gives us some ground of disgust, and we do not yet perceive the inconvenience of the thing we desire; therefore we are weary of the present, and hope to find less in the future: Whence we despise the one, and desire the other.  
The Fifth added, That Man being composed of two parts, Body and Soul, which love change, it is necessary that he love it too. Choose the best posture, and the best food you will, it will weary you in a little time. Let the most Eloquent Orator entertain you with the most excellent Subject, suppose God himself, you will count his Sermon too long if it exceed two hours, or perhaps less. Is it a wonder then, if the Whole be of the same Nature with the Parts?  
The Sixth attributed the Cause of this Discontent to the comparison which every one makes of his own State with that of others. For as a Man of middle stature seems low near a Giant; so a Man of moderate fortune, comparing his own with the greater of another, becomes discontented therewith. Wherefore as long as there are different conditions, they of the lowest will always endeavour to rise to the greatest; and for the taking away of this Displeasure, Lycurgus' Law must be introduced, who made all the people of Sparta of equal condition. If it be replied, that nevertheless they of the highest condition will be contented; I answer, that our Mind being infinite, will rather fancy to itself Epicurus' plurality of worlds, as Alexander did, then be contented with the possession of a single one, and so 'twill be sufficient to discontent us, not that there is, but that there may be, some more contented than ourselves.  
The Seventh said, That the Cause hereof is the desire of attaining perfection, which in Bodies is Light, (whence they are always changed till they become transparent as Glass) and in Spirits, their satisfaction, which is impossible. For Man having two principles of his Actions, which alone are capable of being contented, namely, the Understanding and the Will; he cannot satiate either of them. One truth known makes him desire another. The sign of a moderate Mind is, to be contented with itself; whereas that of a great Mind is, to have always an insatiable appetite of knowing; Whence proceedeth this? It is for that it knows that God created every thing in the world for it, and that it cannot make use thereof unless it have an exact and particular knowledge of the virtues and properties of all things. It knows also, that itself was created for God, and the knowledge of the Creatures is nothing but a means to guide it to that of God. So that if it take those means which lead it to the end for the end itself, it deceives itself and finds not the contentment which it seeks, and will never find the same till it be united to its First Principle, which is God, who alone can content the Understanding. His Will is also hard to be satifi'd. The more goods it hath, the more it desires. It can love nothing but what is perfect: It finds nothing absolutely perfect but goodness itself. For the Light and knowledge wherewith the Understanding supplieth it, discover to it so many imperfections and impurities in the particular goods it possesseth, that it distastes and despises them, as unworthy to have entertainment in it. Wherefore it is not to be wondered, if Man can never be contented in this world, since he cannot attain his utmost End in it, either for Body or Soul.    

CONFERENCE XIX.  
I. Of the Flowing and Ebbing of the Sea. II. Of the Point of Honour.  

I. Of the Flux of the Sea.  
THe First said, That if there be any other cause of this Flux than the heaping together of the Waters from the beginning, under the Aequinoctial, by God's Command, whence they descend again by their natural gravity, and are again driven thither by the obedience which they owe to that Command; (which is so evident, that they who sail under the Aequator, perceive themselves lifted up so high by the currents that are usually there, that they are many times terrified thereat) there is none more probable than the Moon, which hath dominon overall moist Bodies, and augments or diminishes this Flux according as she is in the increase or the wane.  
The Second said, That the Moon indeed makes the Flux and Reflux of the Sea greater or less, yea, she governs and rules it; because being at the Full she causeth a Rarefaction of its Waters. But this doth not argue that she is the Efficient Cause of the said Flux. The Sea rises at the shore, when the Moon riseth in the Heaven, and retires again when the Moon is going down, their motions are indeed correspondent one to the other; yet I know not how that of the Moon is cause of that of the Sea: For if it were, then, when the Moon is longest above our Horizon, as in long days, the ebbing and flowing would be greatest; but it is equal and regular, as well when the Moon is below the Horizon as above it. And why also doth not she move the other Seas, and all sorts of Waters, as well as the Ocean?  
The Third said, That there are two sorts of Water in the Sea, one terrene, thick, and viscous, which contains the Salt; the other thin, sweet, and vaporous, such as that which Aristotle saith enters through the Pores of a vessel of wax, exactly stopped and plunged to the bottom of the Sea. This thin Water being heated is rarified and turned into vapours, which consequently require more room than before. They seek for it, but being restrained and enclosed in the thick and viscous Water can find no issue; and therefore make the Water of the Sea to swell and rise, till that Exhalation be disengaged from those thick Waters, and then the Sea returns to its natural state, by falling flat, and becoming level. This is abundantly confirmed by the Tides; which are always greater in March and August, then at other seasons; because at that time more abundance of vapours is drawn up. But why have not Lakes also an Ebbing and Flowing? Because their Water being more thin le's pass those vapours which the Sun hath stirred; and so not being hindered from going away, as those of the Sea are, they do not make the Water rise and swell. So Heat having subtilised and converted into vapours the most tenuious parts of the Milk upon the Fire, the thicker parts of the same coming to enclose them, are the cause that it swells and rises up: But when it is removed from the fire, or its vapours have gotten passage by agitation, it takes up no more room than it did at first. But it is not so with Water placed upon the Fire, the rarity of its Body giving free issue to the vapours which the Heat excites in it. The Jewish Sea is bituminous, and therefore no more inflated than pitch; possibly because the parts thereof being Homogeneous, cannot be subtilised apart. For as for the Mediterranean Seas, having no Flux and Reflux, I conceive it is hindered by another motion, from North to South; because the Septentrional parts being higher than the Austral, all Waters by their natural gravity tend that way.  
The Fourth said, I acknowledge, with Aristotle, that 'tis partly the Sun that causes the Flux and Reflux of the Sea; because 'tis he that raises most of the Exhalations and Winds, which beating upon the Sea make it swell and so cause the Flux; and soon after failing, the Sea falls again, which is the Reflux. Nevertheless, because this cause is not sufficient, and cannot be applied to all kinds of Flux and Reflux, which we see differ almost in all Seas; I add another thereunto, Subterranean Fires, which sending forth continually abundance of Exhalations or subtle Spirits, and these Spirits seeking issue, drive the Water of the Sea which they meet, till it overflows; and thus it continues till being delivered from those Spirits it falls back into its channel, till it be agitated anew by other Exhalations, which successively follow one another; and that more or less, according to the greater or lesser quantity of those Spirits. The Tides which happen every two hours are an evidence of great quantity; those which happen every four hours of less, and those which happen every six, of least of all. So there is made in our Bodies a Flux and Reflux of Spirits by the motion of Reciprocation, called the Pulse, consisting of a Diastole and a Systole, (or Dilatation and Contraction) caused by the Vital Faculty of the Heart, the Fountain of Heat. Moreover, as the Pulse is ordinarily perceived better in the Arms, and other extreme parts, then in the rest of the Body; So the Flux and Reflux is more evident at the shores then in the main Sea. Therefore Aristotle proposing the Question why, if some solid Body, as an Anchor, be cast into the Sea when it swells, it instantly becomes calm, answers; That the solid Body cast into the Sea makes a separation in the surface thereof; and thereby gives passage to the Spirits which were the cause of that Commotion. Now if it be demanded, Why such motion is not so manifest in the Mediterranean Sea, and some others, as in the Ocean, it is answered, that the reasons thereof are: 1. Because Nature having given sluices to the Mediterranean higher than to the Ocean, it hath not room wherein to extend itself so commodiously. 2. Because the Subterranean Fires, being united and continually vented forth by the outlets, which they have in Aetna, Vesuvius, and other Mountains within or near that Sea, there remains less than is needful to make a rising of the Waters.  
The Fifth said, I conceive there is as little cause and reason to be sought of the Flux and Reflux of the Sea, as of all other motions proceeding from Forms informing or assisting the Bodies which they move. As it would be impertinent to ask what is the cause of the motion of a Horse, seeing the most ignorant confess that it is from his Soul, which is his Form: So there is more likelihood of truth in attributing the motion of the Sea to its Form then to any other thing. Yet because they who assign a Soul to the World and all its parts cannot make out such a proportion therein as is requisite to the parts of an Animal; I think more fit to affirm, that the Sea hath a Form and Intelligence assisting to it, which was assigned to it by God from the beginning, to move it in the same manner as the Intelligences, according to Aristotle, are assistant to the Celestial Orbs, and continue their motion.   

II. Of the Point of Honour.  
It was said, upon the Second Point, That since Contraries give light to one another, we may better understand what Honour is, by considering the Nature of Dishonour. For where ever there is Blame, there is also Honour opposite to it. Now there is no Man that sees a vile action, (as amongst Soldiers, Murder, or Cowardice, Collusion, or Perfidiousness in Justice) but he blames the same, and judges the Author thereof worthy of Dishonour. On the conrary, a brave Exploit and a Courageous Action is esteemed by Enemies themselves: The incorruptible Integrity of a Judge is oftentimes commended by him that ●oses his Suit; and the Courageous Fidelity of an Advocate, in well defending his Client, receives Praise even from the Adversary; so odious is Vice, and so commendable is Virtue. Wherefore every one abhorring Blame and Dishonour, doth so vehemently hate the memory and reproach of any thing that may bring it upon him, that many imitate what the Fable telleth of Jupiter, who going to shake off the ordure which the Beetle had laid upon the skirt of his garment, by that means shook out the Eggs which the Eagle had laid in his lap; that is, by thinking to repel a small Blame, they incur a greater, and oftentimes with the prejudice of another: As it is manifest in the rage and wildness of Duels, when for the repelling of a small injury, a Man engages the life of a Second, who usually becomes involved in the same destruction with himself. It is not my purpose to declaim further here against that Madness; for the Folly of Men is come to such excess, that they who go most unwillingly to the field, considering that they are going possibly to destroy both their Bodies and their Souls, yet dare not seem to obey the injunctions and prohibitions against the same by the Laws both of God and Men. A brutishness worthy of Admiration, as it would be of Pity, were it not voluntary among those who value themselves above others. But to leave them to themselves, let us only consider what a strange Power the Point of Honour hath, which is able to carry before it all the torrent of Arguments and Reasons which dissuade a furious Resolution. Now it is as various, as the Humours and Conditions of Men. Not that I think it imaginary, but as there are actions of themselves honest or dishonest, which are the real foundation of this Point of Honour; so it is of the same Nature. And although Diogenes accounted nothing dishonest (i.e. unbecoming) which is lawful; yet it cannot be believed by any but a Diogenes. So that the Ingenuous Youth, upon whose shoulder that Cynic laid a flitch of Bacon, and lead him about the City in that equipage, to accustom him to put off all shame, obeyed Reason and not his Caprichio, when he cast the same down and ran away. When the Executioner causeth a Criminal to make an honourable amends, (by which understand a most ignominious punishment inflicted upon an extreme Offender, who must go through the streets barefoot and bareheaded, with a burning link in his hand, unto the seat of Justice, or some such public place, and there confess his Offence, and ask forgiveness of the party he hath wronged) he many times endures no other evil but that of shame; and yet I would not blame him that should prefer a natural death before such a dishonour. It may be said that the Point of Honour reacheth not so far, but is only an image and shadow, since words are but the images of things; and that a Man will fight a Duel when another hath reproached him for a fault, either of his own, or of some other for whom he is concerned. But I answer, that Men fight oftener for actions and bad offices, then for words. And although they commonly reflect thus, what will people say of me, if I put up this? Yet the truth is, 'tis out of fear lest one contempt making way for another, might give occasion to effects not only prejudicial to our Reputation, but also to our Fortune; which we know in these days depends upon our Reputation. A Captain known for a Coward will be cashiered. A Soldier that doth not defend himself will be beaten. A Gentleman that doth not swagger when he is affronted, he will be abused not only in his Honour, but also in his goods, by all his Neighbours. So that the Point of Honour is not so little real as it is imagined, since it hath an influence not only upon a Man's Honour, but likewise upon his goods and life. In brief, we may consult those who deny the Point of Honour to be a real thing, by all this Honourable Assembly, and especially by the many excellent Wits, who are excited by Honour to appear therein, and acquire (what they may justly expect) the commendation which is due to their merits.  
The Second said, That he found some difference between being an Honest Man, and a Man of Honour; for that, to be an Honest Man, it is requisite only to possess the Honest Good (Bonum Honestum) which is Virtue: But to be a Man of Honour, besides that, the world must know that we possess the same, and give us the reputation of being virtuous. For 'tis stupidity, not to care what opinion Men have of us. Which caused the Wiseman to pronounce a Curse against those who neglect a good Fame; which is so natural, and so nearly allied to Virtue, that she seems not to have her utmost perfection when she is separated from it; and a Prudent Man desires equally to be virtuous, and to be esteemed such: Now if Honour consist in the possession of Virtue thus accompanied, the Point of Honour will be the Point of Virtue, that is, the perfection thereof; or rather, Virtue most perfect, accompanied with a complete Reputation. This perfection, in my Judgement, is the Warlike Virtue, called by the Greeks, by way of excellence, The Virtue of Man; and so esteemed by all the world, that no people, however otherwise barbarous, ever denied it the Title of Nobleness. It is not then to be wondered if Men of Courage think that the Point of Honour consists in preserving to themselves the Reputation of being Valiant, and endeavour by all means to make it appear to every one that they are endued with this Warlike Virtue. Whence most Quarrels are occasioned by men's accusing one another of want of Courage, or other appurtenances of that Virtue.  
The Third said, That which we call the Point of Honour, is nothing else, in my Judgement, but the desire of being esteemed more honest persons than we are. For Man being the greatest dissembler of all Creatures, endeavours to make himself thought what he is not; because it being essential to him to desire Good, and his perverse Inclination not leading him to the true, therefore at least he desires the apparent. This is seen in all his actions, which aim only at three kinds of Good; namely, the Honest, the Profitable, and the Delightful. Now of these three, only the Honest is called the Good of Man; because the two latter usually corrupt him, the former preserves him. And nevertheless, many addict themselves to Pleasures, more run after Profit, but very few, comparatively, follow the Honest Good for its own sake, unless it be joined with one of the other. In the mean time there is none but would persuade others that he is passionately in love with the latter, and not anxious for Honour. But, I conceive, we may know persons of Honour, by the little account they make of injuries which seem to tend to their disparagement, especially when they think the same do not belong unto them; and they who are worthy of Honour seek it least, and are not troubled so much as others at the injury which any one thinks he doth them. So we see a Prince will not be so solicitous to employ his qualities in a public act, as a Man of low condition newly exalted. An Honest Woman will not be so much troubled at an injury offered to her Honour, as she that is of an evil Life; because the former hath true Honour, which the latter hath not: As we see paltry Pedlars, that have all their shop in a pack hanging about their necks, make ten times more noise than the best wholesale Tradesmen, whose storehouses are filled with all sort of wares. And amongst all Nations, they who lie most, are most offended with the Lie. They who drink most, are most offended with the name of Drunkard. Wherefore since, according to Aristotle, 'tis the truth and not the number or quality of the honourers, which constitutes the true Honour, which they arrogate most in whom the substance is least found; it follows that what we call the Point of Honour is nothing but the appearance or shadow thereof.  
The Fourth said, The Point of Honour is nothing but a Desire we have to make ourselves esteemed such as we are. Wherefore when a quality which belongs not to us is taken from us, we are far from being so much concerned, as if it pertained to us. So a Gentleman who makes profession of Valour will be offended if he be called Poltroon; but a Capuchin will not, knowing well that that Virtue is not necessary to Christian Perfection.  
The Fifth said, That Honour, according to the common opinion, being the testimony which Men give us of our virtuous actions, the Point of Honour is that conceit which our Mind proposes and forms to itself of that opinion. Whence it follows that the Point of Honour thus taken, being an Abstract which our Mind draws from things, and not the things themselves, there is nothing of reality in it, but it is a pure Imagination, which altars according to the diversity of times, places, and persons. Such a thing was anciently honest (i. e. laudable and becoming) which is not so at present: Whereof the Modes and Customs of the times past, compared with those at this day, are a sufficient evidence. It was honourable at Rome to burn dead Bodies, and shameful to all others, (saving to the single family of the Cornelii) to bury them. At this day to inter them is honourable, but to burn them the most infamous of punishments. It was in Lacedaemon an honourable thing to steal dextrously; and now the reward of the craftiest Cutpurse is a Halter. One thing is honest, (i. e. seemly) in one age (as for Children to blush) which is dishonest (i. e. unseemly) in another, (as for old Men to do so.) Yea, one Man will sometimes construe a thing within the Point of Honour, which another will not. And we sometimes conceive ourselves interessed in one and the same thing, and sometimes not. Moreover, though the Point of Honour should not admit all these mutations, yet depending upon the imagination of another, there can be nothing of reality in it. And therefore the true Point of Honour consists not in the opinion which others have of us, but in the exercise of honest and virtuous actions, whether acknowledged for such, or not; yea, though they be despised or punished, it is sufficient to render such actions honourable, that the Conscience alone judge of their goodness.    

CONFERENCE XX.  
I. Of the Original of Fountains. II. Whether there be a commendable Ambition.  

I. Of the Original of Fountains.  
THe First said, That Springs and Rivers come from the Sea, otherwise it would receive a great augmentation by the daily addition of their streams, if it should not suffer an equal diminution by their derivation from it. Therefore the Wiseman saith, All Rivers go into the Sea, and the Sea is not increased thereby; and afterwards they return to the place from whence they came, that they may go forth again. Yea, it would be a perpetual Miracle, if after about six thousand years since the Creation of the World the Sea were not grown bigger by all the great Rivers it receives, seeing the Danubius alone, were it stopped but during one year, would be sufficient to drown all Europe. But how can the Water, of its own nature heavy and unactive, especially that of the Sea, be carried up to the highest Mountains? As we see the L' Isere, and the Durance, and other Rivers, descend from the tops of the Alps, upon which there are Lakes and Springs in great number, as in Mont-Cenis, Saint Bernard, and Saint Godart. This proceeds from the gravity of the Earth, which always inclining towards its own centre, bears upon the Sea, and so pressing upon the Water, causeth it to rise up into the veins and passages of the Earth; (a resemblance whereof is seen in Pumps) by which passages it is strained and deprived of its saltness. Which quality is easily separable from Sea-water; for upon the shores of Africa there are pits of fresh Water, which cannot come from elsewhere. And if Water mingled with Wine be separated from the same by a cup made of Ivy wood, why not the saltness of the Water too? Thence also it is that Springs retain the qualities of the places through which they pass, having put off those which they derived from their Original.  
The Second said, That the Waters are carried upwards by the virtue of the Celestial Bodies, which attract the same without any violence; it being in a manner natural to Inferior Bodies to obey the Superior, and follow the motion which they impress upon them. Unless we had rather ascribe this effect to God, who having for the common good of all the world caused the Water in the beginning to ascend to the highest places, it hath always followed that same motion by natural consecution and the fear of that Vacuity. And of this we have a small instance in the experiment of Syphons.  
The Third said, He conceived, with Aristotle, that Springs are generated in cavities and large spaces of the Middle Region of the Earth, which Nature (who abhorreth Vacuity) fills with Air, insinuated thereinto by the pores and chinks, and condensed afterwards by the coldness of the Earth: Which coldness is so much the greater as that Region is remote from all external agents which might alter it. This condensed Air is resolved into drops of Water, and these drops soon after descending by their own weight into one and the same place, glide along till they meet with others like themselves, and so give beginning to a Spring. For as of many Springs uniting their streams a great River is made, so of many drops of Water is made a Spring. Hence it comes to pass that we ordinarily find Springs in Mountains and high places, as being most hollow and full of Air, which becomes condensed and resolved into Water so much the more easily as the Mountains are nearer the Middle Region of the Air, apt by its vapourous quality to be turned into Water, as well in those Gavities as in the Clouds; or else because they are most exposed to the coldest Winds, and usually covered with Snow.  
The Fourth said, That there is no transformation of Elements, and therefore Air cannot be turned into Water. For whereas we see drops of Water fall from the surface of Marble or Glass, 'tis not that the Air is turned into Water, but this moist Air is full of damp vapours, which are nothing but Water rarified, and which meeting with those cold and solid Bodies, are condensed and returned to their first Nature. Wherefore the Air is so far from being the cause of so many Springs and Rivers which water the Earth, that on the contrary, all the Air in the world (provided it be not mixed with Water) cannot make so much as one drop. It is more probable that in the beginning of the world, when God divided the Elements and the Waters from the Waters which covered the whole surface of the Earth, he gathered the grossest and most unprofitable water into one mass▪ which he called Sea, and dispersed through the rest of the Earth the fresh Water, more clear and pure, to serve for the necessities of the Earth, Plants, and living Creatures. Moreover, the Scripture makes mention of four great Rivers issuing out of the terrestrial Paradise, and a Fountain in the middle of it, which watered the whole surface of the Earth from the Creation. In not being possible that Air resolved into Water could make so great a quantity of waters in so little time.  
The Fifth added. That those Waters would soon be dried up without a new production, for which Nature hath provided by Rain, which falling upon the Earth is gathered together in Subterraneous Caverns; which are as so many Reservers for Springs, according to Seneca's opinion. This is proved, 1. Because in places where it reins not, as in the Deserts of Arabia and Aethiopia, there is scarce any Springs; on the other side, they are very frequent in Europe which aboundeth with rain. 2. Waters are very low in Summer when it reins but little; and in Winter so high that they overflow their banks, because the season is pluvious. 3. Hence it is that most Rivers and Springs break forth at the foot of Mountains, as being but the rain water descended thither from their tops.  
The Sixth said, That it is true that Rivers are increased by Rain, but yet have not their original from it. For were it so, then in great droughts our Rivers would be dried up as well as the Brooks. As for Springs, they are not so much as increased by Rain; for we see by experience, that it goes no deeper into the earth than seven or eight feet. On the contrary, the deeper you dig, the more Springs you meet with. Nor is the Air, in my judgement, the cause thereof, there being no probability that there is under the earth caverns so spacious and full of Air sufficient to make so great a quantity of Water; since there needs ten times as much Air as Water to produce it. Neither can the Sea be the cause of Springs; since, according to the Maxim of Hydraulick, Water cannot ascend higher the place of its original, but if Springs were from the Sea, than they could not be higher than the level thereof; and we should see none upon the tops of Mountains. Now that the Sea lies lower than Springs and Rivers, is apparent, because they descend all thitherwards.  
The Seventh said, That Waters coming from the Sea, and gliding in the bowels of the Earth, meet with Subterranean Fires, which are there in great quantity, whereby they are heated and resolved into Vapours. These Vapours composed of Water and Fire, mounting upwards, meet some Rocks or other solid Bodies, against which they stick and are returned into Water; the Fire which was in them escaping through the Pores of those Bodies, the Water trickles forth by the clefts and crevisses of the Rocks, or other sloping places.  
The Eighth said, That as Art can draw forth Water by Distillation, Expression, and other ways taught by Chemistry; so by stronger reason Nature cannot want ways to do the same, and possibly in divers sorts, according to the various disposition of places, and of the matter which she employs to that use.   

II. Whether there is any Ambition commendable.  
Upon the Second Subject it was said, That there is some correspondence between the two Questions; for as Water serves for a Medium of Union in natural Composition; so Ambition serves to familiarise pains and dangers in great erterprises. For it makes Children strive to get credit in little exercises; and Men think nothing so high but may be soared to by the wings of Ambitior. Juvenal indeed gives Wings to necessity, when he saith, A Hungry Greek will fly up to Heaven if they command him; and Virgil saith, Fear adds Wings to the heels of the terrified; but those of Ambition are much more frequent in our Language. 'Tis true, Ambition may many times beat and stretch forth its Wings, but can no more exalt itself into the Air than the Ostrich. Sometimes it soars too high, as Icarus did, and so near the light that it is burnt therein like Flies. For the ambitious usually mounts up with might and main, but thinks not how he shall come down again. This Passion is so envious, that it makes those possessed therewith hate all like themselves, and justle them to put them behind. Yea, it is so eager that it meets few obstacles which yield not to its exorbitant pertinacy; insomuch that it causeth Men to do contrary to do what they pretend, and shamefully to obey some, that they may get the command over others. The importunateness of Ambition is proof against all check or denial; and the ambitious is like the Clot-burr, which once fastened upon the clothes is not easily shaken off. When he is once near the Court, neither affronts nor other rubs can readily repel him thence. And because his Essence consists in appearance, he many times wears his Lands upon his back; and if he cannot at once pride himself in his Table, his Clothes, and his Train, yet he will rather show the body of a Spaniard, than the belly of a Swiss. At his coming abroad, he oftentimes picks his teeth while his guts grumble, he feeds upon airy viands. When he has been so lucky as to snap some office, before he has warmed the place, his desires are gaping after another: He looks upon the first but as a step to a second, and thinks himself still to low, if he be not upon the highest round of the ladder; where he needs a good Brain lest he lose his judgement, and where it is as hard to stand, as 'tis impossible to ascend, and shameful to descend. Others observing, That Honour is like a shadow, which flies from its pursuers, and follows those that fly it, have indeed no less Ambition than the former, (for I know no condition, how private soever, that is free from it) but they artificially conceal it; like those who carry a dark Lantern in the night, they have no less fire than others, but they hide it better. They are like Thiefs that shoe their Horses the wrong way, that they may seem by their steps to come from the place whither they are going; or else like those who hunt the Hyena. This Beast loves the voice of Man so much that she trusts in it; and (say the Historians) she understands it so well, that when the Hunters would take her, they must cry, I will not have her, I will not have her. But when once they have obtained the Honour at which they thus aimed, by contrary pretensions, they show sufficiently that they desired it.  
The Second said, That Ambition is a desire of exalting ourselves, and over-topping the common sort. The Object of it is Honour, in the pursuit of which three things are considered; namely, the Mediocrity, the Excess, and the Defect. The Mediocrity is called Magnanimity, or greatness of Courage, by which we seek the great Honours which we merit. The Excess is called Vanity, when we pursue great dignities which we deserve not. The Defect is called Pusillanimity, when a Man hath so little Spirit that he deprives himself of Honours, though he is worthy of them. Now as Liberality answers to Magnificence, so to Magnanimity answers another Virtue which hath no name in Aristotle, and differs from it but in degree. For that hath regard to great Honours, and this to moderate; and, as all other Virtues, it hath its two vicious Extremes, its Excess, which is called Ambition, and its Defect, which is want of Ambition. Moreover, there are two kinds of Ambition. One which is bounded within the limits of each condition, whereby every one desires to become perfect in his Art, and to excel others of the same condition; which is very laudable, and argues that he whom it possesses hath something more excellent in him then the vulgar. The Other is that which carries us to Honours, which greatly exceed the bounds of our condition, and are not due to us. This is very unblamable and dangerous, because it causes great confusion in men's Minds, and consequently in States. For what is more absurd, then for a Citizen to act a Gentleman, or a Gentleman a Prince? Yea, even this last aught to set bounds to his Ambition.  
The Third added, That things are to be judged of by their Effects; and we see most of the mischiefs which come to pass now in the World are caused by the Ambition of those who weary of their condition, in which if they continued they would be happy, by all means seek after others which seem higher: Ambition making them prefer before the good which they know an evil which they know not; because this Passion represents the same to them under the semblance of a greater good. Wherefore the Julian Law was introduced with good reason, to check and moderate this exorbitant appetite of Honours.  
The Fourth said, That indeed extreme and immoderate Ambition is a perpetual rack and torture to the Soul, and begets an Hydropic Thirst in it, which all the waters of the World cannot allay. But that which is moderate, in my judgement, is not only unblameable, but very praiseworthy; since it is a desire of perfection, and never any person was ambitious in this manner, but he was either virtuous, or in the way to be so. For this Ambition proceeds from a desire of glory, and being accounted better greater, and wiser than others; and it is grounded upon the knowledge we have, and would derive to others of our peculiar merit. And though the Man be not virtuous, yet there is nothing more proper to render him so then such Ambition; one of the most powerful spurs to encourage a well-tempered Soul to Virtue. 'Tis an Instrument that smooths all its rough paths. 'Tis a flame that enkindles generous purposes in the Soul to surmount all kinds of obstacles. Would you see its excellence? Compare this Ambition, from whence sprang those brave thoughts which brought so great glory to Alexander, Caesar, and all those other Heroes of Antiquity, with the shameful sloth of the infamous Sardanapalus, Heliogabalus, and other Epicures buried in the ordures of their vices, for want of this noble desire of glory. But it is most remarkable, in reference to Ambition, that they who blame it are themselves ambitious; for they do so, only to ostentate themselves; and they who have written Books against Vainglory, have yet set their Names in the frontispiece; and wherefore, but to be talked of?  
The Fifth said, That the Goodness or Badness of all Actions, depending only upon their good or bad End, it must be affirmed likewise, concerning Ambition, that it is unblamable or commendable; according as he who seeketh Honours hath an honest or dishonest End, and pursues the same by lawful or oblique courses.  
The Sixth said, It is so true that there is a laudable Ambition, that not only all that is rare in Arts and Sciences, but also all the bravest Heroick Actions owe their being to it. 'Tis one of the most commendable Virtues natural to Man, and inseparable from a gallant Spirit; It is so much the more excellent, in that it hath for its Object the most excellent of all external Goods, namely, Honour, which Men offer to God, as the most precious thing they have, and which Legislators (finding nothing more valuable) propose for the guerdon of Virtre. This may serve to explain what is commonly said, That Virtue is a reward to itself: Legislators having determined that Virtuous Men should find the recompense of their brave Actions, in that noble desire of the glory which they deserve. So that he is no less unblamable who deserving Honours and Dignities, and being able to support and exercise them worthily and profitably to the public, doth not seek them, than he that strives for them and is unworthy thereof. Yea, the former seems to me much more blame-worthy than the latter, whose Ambition, though immoderate, denotes greatness of Spirit; whereas the former, too much distrusting himself, and not daring to attain or reach forth his hand to what appertains by right unto him, shows abundantly the lowness of his Mind, or the little account he makes of Virtue, by slighting Honour which is the shadow and reward of it, and depriving himself of the means to perform Virtuous Actions, which he may better exercise in Offices and Dignities then in a private life: And which is more, he sets a pernicious example to his fellow-citizens to neglect that Recompense of Virtue, which costs the State less than any other.    

CONFERENCE XXI.  
I. Of Dreams. II. Why Men are rather inclined to Vice then Virtue.  

I. Of Dreams.  
IT is no wonder that Men seek the interpretation of Dreams. For having from all times bend their Minds to foresee the Future, (as the Desire of becoming like God by the Faculty of Divining hath been transmitted from the First Man to all his Posterity) it seems the Images of things presented to them in the night are unprofitable to any other end besides this. And truly since the highest pitch of every Faculty consists in Divination, and the Holy Scripture hath nothing so wonderful as its Prophecies; Physic, nothing so admirable as the Prognostication of diseases; Civil Law, than the Resolution of the good or bad success of an Affair; Yea, since the in extinguishable thirst after the Future hath induced all Ethnic Antiquity to feed Fowls for Augury, to immolate Sacrifices for presaging their good or bad Fortune; there is some ground to pardon them and all others who seek some glimmerings of the future in Dreams. I conceive, the most Incredulous, reading in the Scripture that seven lean kine devouring so many fat ones presaged seven years' Famine which consumed all the store of seven other fertile years; and moreover, the truth confirmed by the event of the Dreams of so many others, cannot but have them in some reverence. But on the other side, when every one considers how many Fancies come into our heads in sleep, both sick and well, the truth whereof is so rare that it may be compared to that of Almanacs, which setting down all sorts of weather, sometimes happen right upon one; or to those bad Archers, who shooting all day long, glory if they once hit the mark; he presently concludes that credit is not lightly to be given to them. Wherefore I think after explication how Dreams are caused, it will be fit to examine whether there be any connexion or affinity between the things which we dream and those which are to come to pass, as there was between the Egyptian Hieroglyphics which the things signified by them, and as there is at this day in the Characters of China, and in the Signatures observed by some Physicians between some Plants and the Parts or Diseases to which they are proper. For it is not without some hidden reason, that Experience hath caused so many persons to take notice, that as (for example) Death and Marriage make a great stir and alteration in the house where they happen, so the one is usually the indicatour of the other; that because the Hen makes a cry when she lays her Eggs, from whence is produced a Chicken that cries too, therefore Eggs signify brawls or quarrels; that Pearls signify Tears, because they resemble them; that as the Serpent is always mischievous, and moves along with little noise, so he denotes secret Enemies; and the cutting off his head, the getting the better of one's Enemies; that as our Teeth are not plucked out without pain, so to dream that they fall out, prefigures the death of a Relation; and other such things which cannot be numbered but by a Calepine, much less the interpretation thereof unfolded.  
The Second said That Dreams are caused by the rising of vapours from the Stomach to the Brain, by whose coldness they are condensed; and then falling like a gentle dew upon the Nerves, and stopping the passages by which the Animal Spirits issue to the outward senses, the species of objects which we received awake, and were then confused and agitated by heat, settle by little and little, and become as clearly discerned as when we were awake: Or else, our Imagination, which (as Aristotle saith) is like a Painter who makes a mixture of divers colours) joining several of those species together, forms chimaeras and other strange images which have no antitype in Nature. Just as a Child drawing accidentally certain Letters out of a heap mingled together, joins them and forms words of them which have no sense. And as dirty or stirred waters doth not represent any Image, or very badly; so the Imagination being embroiled and agitated by the gross fumes of the meat which arise after the first sleep, represents ill, or not at all, the images of things which it hath in itself. Hence it is that Drunkards and Children dream little or not at all, and that the Dreams of the first part of the night are turbulent, and those of the morning more tranquil and quiet, to which alone therefore credit is to be given. So that Interpreters of Dreams account the same nearer or farther from their Effect, according as they more or less approach the daybreak.  
The Third said, That Dreams are different according to the different Causes whence they proceed; which are either within us or without us. That which is within us is either Natural, or Animal, or Moral; from which arise three different kinds of Dreams. The Natural are usually suitable to the complexion of the Body, and constitution of Humours. Thus the Bilious or Choleric, dreams of fire and slaughter: The Pituitous, or Phlegmatic dreams that he is swimming, fishing, or falling: The Melancholy sees sad and dismal things in his sleep: The Sanguine hath pleasures and jollities in his Fancy. The Animal proceed from our ordinary employments, and cause the actions on thoughts of the day to be represented again to the Imagination in the night. The Moral follow the good or bad inclinations of every one. Thus the Voluptuous person dreams of Delights, and the Ambitious of Honours. The external cause of Dreams is either God or Angels, and these either good or bad; and they either imprint new species upon the Fancy, or dispose those which are in it before, so as thereby to advertise us of things which concern us. These alone, in my opinion, are those that are to be taken notice of.  
The Fourth said, That besides these causes of Dreams, there are also some corporeal causes, as the temper of the Air, or the constitution of the Heavens, and the nature of places; to which is to be referred the relation of Ammianus Marcellinus, That the Atlantic people have no Dreams; as also the common report, that they who lay Lawrel-leaves under their heads when they go to sleep have true Dreams; together with the Observation of Aristotle, that if a Candle cast the least glimpse before the Eyes of such as are a sleep, or a little noise be made near them, they will dream that they see Lightning and hear Thunder; it being proper to the Soul when we are a sleep to make an Elephant of a Flie.  
The Fifth said, That the chief inquiry in this matter, is, How any Dreams can signify that which is Future, and what connexion there is between the figures which Dreams represent to us, and the thing signified to us by them. For it is certain, in the first place, that Dreams have some affinity and conformity with our Temper; This with our Manners; our Manners with our Actions; and finally, our Actions with the Accidents which betid us. Whence it appears, that according to this series, Dreams have some great correspondence with those Accidents. For the Soul, which knows our Temper, and by necessary sequel our Manners and Actions, beholds in those three together the Accidents of our Life; which are annexed, represented, and contained potentially in them, as Fruits and Trees are in Flowers and Seeds. But as Flowers and Seeds are very different in Figure from the Fruits and Trees which they produce; so the Characters of the Accidents of our Life being contained, or rather produced by our Temper, our Manners and Actions are represented to the Soul under the various species of things which are to befall us; because being linked by a straight bond to this corporeal mass, it cannot judge beforehand of things to come, nor admonish us thereof but by the representation of certain Images which we have some resemblance and agreement with those Accidents. These Images are different in all Men, according to their several Sympathies and Antipathies, Aversions and Complacencies, or according to the different beliefs which we have taken up by a strong Imagination, or by hear-say, that such or such Figures represented in a Dream signify such or such things. For in this case, the Soul conjecturing by those impressions which are found in our Temper, is constrained to represent the same to us by the Images which our Imagination first admitted and apprehended either as unfortunate, or lucky and of good Augury. But if there be any Dreams which presage to us Accidents purely fortuitous, and wholly remote from our Temper, Manners, and Actions, they depend upon another Cause.  
The Sixth said, That as during sleep the Animal and inferior part of Man performs its office best, concocting the nourishment more successfully; so his superior part being then (according as Trismegistus saith) more loose and unlinked from the Body, acts more perfectly then during the time we are awake. For being freed and loosened from the senses and corporeal affections, it hath more particular converse with God and Angels, and receives from all parts intelligence of things in agitation. And, according to Anaxagoras, all things bear the Image one of another; whence, if there be any effect in Nature which is known in its cause, as a tempest in the Sea, a Murder in the Woods, a Robbery or other accident upon the Highway; the Power, which is to be the original thereof, sends a Copy and Image of the same into the Soul.  
The Seventh said, That he as little believed that the Species and Images of things come to the Soul, as that the Soul goes forth to seek them during sleep, roving and wand'ring about the world, as it is reported of the Soul of Hermotimus the Clazomenian. Aristotle indeed saith, that there are some subtle natures which seem to have some pre-science of what is to come; but I think it surpasseth the reach of the Humane Soul, which being unable to know why a Tree produceth rather such a Fruit then another, can much less know why those species are determined, rather to signify one thing then another.  
The Eighth said, He could not commend the superstitious curiosity of those who seek the explication of Dreams, since God forbids expressly in the Law to observe them; and the Wiseman assures us, that they have caused many to stumble and fall. And why should the things which we fancy in the right have more signification then if we imagined them in the day? For Example, If one dream in the night that he flies, is there any more reason to conjecture from thence that he shall arise to greatness, then if the thought of flying had come into his Mind in the day time; with which in the days of our Fathers an Italian had so ill success, having broken his neck by attempting to fly from the top of the Tower De Nesse in this City; a fair Example not to mount so high.   

II. Why Men are rather inclined to Vice then to Virtue  
Upon the Second Point, it was said, That our Inclinations tend rather to Vice then to Virtue, because Delight is always concomitant to Vice, as Honesty is to Virtue. Now Delight being more facile, and honesty more laborious, therefore we follow rather the former than the latter. Moreover, the Present hath more power to move our Inclinations, because it is nearer than the Future, which as yet is nothing. Now Delight is accounted as present in a Vicious Action, and the reward of Virtue is looked upon as a far off and in futurity. Whence Vice bears a greater stroke with us then Virtue. If it be objected that a Virtuous Action hath always its reward inseparable, because Virtue is a Recompense to itself; I answer, that this is not found true, but by a reflection and ratiocination of the Mind, which hath little correspondence with our gross senses; and therefore this recompense, which is only in the Mind, doth not gratify us so much as the pleasures of the Body, which have a perfect correspondence with our corporeal senses by whom the same are gusted in their full latitude. But why doth Vice seem so agreeable to us, being of its own nature so deformed? I answer, that it was necessary that it should be accompanied and sweetened with Pleasure; otherwise the eschewing of Evil, and the pursuing of Virtue, would not have been meritorious, because there would have been no difficulty therein. Moreover, Nature hath been forced to season the Actions of Life with Pleasure, lest they should become indifferent and neglected by us. Now Vice is only an Excessive or Exorbitant exercising of the Actions of Life which are agreeable to us; And Virtues are the Rules and Moderators of the same Actions. But why are not we contented with a Mediocrity of those Actions? 'Tis because Life consists in Action, which is the more such, when it is extended to the whole length and breadth of its activity, and owns no bounds to restrain its liberty.  
The Second said, All would be more inclined to Virtue then to Vice, were it considered in itself, there being no Man so depraved but desires to be virtuous. The covetous had rather be virtuous and have wealth, then be rich without Virtue. But its difficulty, the companion of all excellent things, is the cause that we decline it. And we judge this difficulty the greater, for that our Passions carry the natural and laudable inclinations of our Soul to Vice, which is much more familiar and facile to them then Virtue. Wherefore Aristotle saith, all Men admit this General Proposition, That Virtue ought to be followed; But they fail altogether in the particulars of it. Besides, Man is able to do nothing without the Ministry of his Senses; and when, in spite of difficulties, he raises himself to some Virtuous Action, presently the Sensitive Appetite repugns against it; and as many inferior Faculties as he hath, they are so many rebellious and mutinous Subjects, who refuse to obey the Command of their Sovereign. This Intestine War was brought upon Man as a punishment for his first sin; ever since which, Reason, which absolutely ruled over the Sensitive Appetite, hath been counter-checked and mast'red by it.  
The Third said, As there are a thousand ways of straying and erring from the mark, and but one, and that a straight, line to attain it; so it is possible to exceed or be deficient in Virtue infinite ways, but there is only one point to acquire its Mediocrity.  
The Fourth affirmed, That the way of Vice being more spacious than that of Virtue, yea, Evil (according to Pythagoras) infinite, and Good bounded; it follows that there are infinitely more Vices than Virtues; and therefore is not to be wondered if there be more vicious persons then virtuous.  
The Fifth said, We are not to seek the cause of our vicious inclinations other where then within ourselves; it being derived from the structure and composition of our Bodies. For he who hath not what to eat, and wherewith to defend himself from cold, or who fears distress, finds the seeds of theft in his natural inclination of self-preservation. The same Fear makes him become covetous. When any thing obstructs the accomplishing of his wishes, if he be weak, he becomes sad thereupon; if strong, he falls into Choler. This Passion leads him to revenge, the height of whose violence is Murder. If the enjoyment thereof be free to him, the pleasure which he takes therein produceth Luxury and debaucheries; and thus 'tis with all Vices. On the contrary, poor Virtue meets with nothing in us but opposition: The Stomach, the Intestines, and all the natural parts revolt against Temperance and Continence: The Choleric Humour fights against Clemency: Covetousness inciteth to Injustice; the Comparison of our condition with that of our betters, to Ambition and Envy; with that of our Inferiors, to Pride and Disdain. In brief, Virtue finds nothing in us that makes for her interest, which seems to me the reason why it is less familiar to us then Vice.  
The Sixth said, No person is either vicious or virtuous of his own nature, but he becomes so by Instruction and Custom. Instruction is so powerful, that it makes even Beasts capable of Discipline. Custom is of such influence, that it is rightly termed an other nature. Wherefore our being rather vicious then virtuous, is not from any natural inclination. For, on the contrary, we have the seeds and sparks of Virtue within us; and I almost believe, with Plato, that when Men become vicious, it is by force and against their nature. But the fault proceeds from our bad Education and corrupt Customs, which become yet worse by the conversation of vicious persons, who are very numerous.  
The Seventh said, Though we consent more easily to Virtue then to Vice, yet the number of the good and virtuous being less than that of the wicked and vicious, hath caused the contrary to be believed. The reason whereof is not the difficulty of doing well; but because Vices are esteemed and rewarded instead of being punished, and Virtue instead of Recompense receives nothing but Contempt: So the Exorbitancy of Clothes, instead of being punished, causeth him to be honoured who is unworthy to be so. Wherefore if there were a State in which Reward and Punishment were duly dispensed from the Cradle, it would be a rarer thing to see a wicked man there then a black Swan; because the good which we love, and the evil which we hate, would be inseparably joined together, the one with Virtue, and the other with Vice.    

CONFERENCE XXII.  
I. Of Judiciary Astrology. II. Which is least unblamable, Covetousness or Prodigality.  

I. Of Judiciary Astrology.  
THe weakness of our reasoning is a strong argument to abate the presumption of our being able to judge of the power of the Stars. For if we are ignorant of the nature of the least Herb we tread upon, we must be more so of that of the Celoestial Bodies which are so remote from us and our knowledge, that the greatest masters of this Art dispute still, whether every Star be a several world, whether they are solid or not, what qualities they have, and which are the true places. Besides, the local motion of Animals may wholly frustrate the effect of their influences. And if Xanthus hindered the Sun from making his head ache when he walked abroad, and the Moon doth not i'll those that are in the house, certainly the effects of less active and remoter Stars may be declined by the same ways; since Fire, the most active thing in nature, doth not burn if the hand be moved swiftly over it. And what more was to be feared by Americus Vesputius, Ferdinand Magellan, and others, who sailed round the Earth one way, whilst the Heaven turned the other? Why should we seek in Heaven the Causes of Accidents which befall us, if we find them on Earth? And why should we look so far for what is so near? Is it not more fit to refer the cause of Knowledge to study; of Riches and Honour, to Birth, Merit, or Favour; of Victory, to the dexterity and diligence of the General, who cast his contrivance well to surprise his Enemy, then to attribute these Events to the Planets? If experience be alleged to manifest the effect of many Predictions; I answer,▪ that as the Animal which is said to have made a letter by chance with its Hoof in the dust, was no Scribe for all that; so though amongst a thousand false predictions, one by chance proves true, yet is not the Art ever the more certain. Yea, I will urge it against themselves; for it is not credible that we should see so many unfortunate Astrologers, if they could foresee their own infelicity; or else they must acknowledge themselves fools; since they grant that the Wiseman rules over the Stars.  
The Second said, That every thing here below suffers mutation, and nothing is able to change itself; whence it follows that that which is the cause of Alteration must itself be exempt from the same. Whence consequently the Heavens which are the sole Body that suffer no change, must be the cause of all mutation. For the Elements are the material cause thereof, and therefore cannot be the Efficient. And as the Stars are the thickest and only visible part of Heaven, so they have most light and influence, by which (assisted with their motions) they communicate their qualities to the Air, the Air to the Bodies which it toucheth, especially to the humours in Man, over which it hath such power, that its diversity diversifyes all the complexions of Mankind. Now our Humours model our Manners, and these our most particular Actions. They may talk that the Wiseman overrules the Stars, but Experience shows that the Stars guide the Will, not by compelling it, but by inclining it in such a manner that it cannot resist; because they subminister to it the means determined to the End whereunto they incline it; whence it is as hard (yea, impossible) for it to draw back, as for a Drunkard to forbear drinking when he is very thirsty and hath the bottle at his command. The Impostures which are affirmed of the Casters of Nativities, can no more prejudice or disparage Judiciary Astrology, than Mountebanks do Physic. Yea, though the state of Heaven be never twice the same, yet is it not so in the subjects of all other Disciplines. Never were two diseases found altogether alike in Physic; nor in Law two Cases alike in all their circumstances; yet the Precepts of these Sciences are nevertheless true; because it sufficeth that the principal conditions concur, as it is also sufficient that the same principal aspects and situations of the Stars be found in Heaven, for the making of Rules in Judiciary Astrology.  
The Third said, Every Effect followeth the Nature of its Cause, and therefore the Actions and Inclinations of the Soul cannot be ascribed to a corporeal cause, such as the Stars are; For if all were governed by their influences, we should see nothing but what were good, as being regulated by so good causes. I acknowledge but two virtues in the Heavens, Motion and Light, by which alone, and not by any influences of occult qualities, they produce corporeal effects. Thus ought Aristotle to be understood, when he referreth the cause of the continual Generation of Inferior things, to the diversity of the Motions of the First Movable and the Zodiac; And Hypocrates, when he foretelleth the events of Diseases by the several Houses of the Moon.  
The Fourth said, It is impossible to make an Art of predicting by the Celoestial Motions, for five reasons, besides the dominion which our Will hath over Effects; without which it were free. 1. The Connexion that is between the Celoestial Bodies and the Sublunary is unknown to Men. 2. The diversity of the Celoestial Motions causeth that the Heaven is never in the same posture as it ought to be, for the making of a sure and certain Art grounded upon many repeated Experiments; according to which, like Effects are to be referred to like Causes. 3. The extreme rapid and violent turning about of the Heavens doth not afford to find the precise minute of a Nativity, for drawing the Theme or Figure of the true state of Heaven, which they say is necessary. 4. As of sixteen Consonants joined with five Vowels are made words without number; so of a thousand and twenty two Stars and more, with seven Planets, may be made Conjunctions and Combinations to infinity, which surpass the comprehension of humane wit; there being no Art of things infinite. 5. Two persons, or more, born at the same time under the same Elevation of the Pole, and disposition of the Heavens; (as they speak) yea, two Twins, as Jacob and Esau, are found oftentimes different in visage, complexion, inclination, condition, and end. But is it probable that a hundred Pioners stifled in the same Mine, or ten thousand Men dying at the same battle have one and the same influence?  
The Fifth said, God having from all eternlty numbered the hairs of our Heads, that is to say, foreseen even the least Accidents which ought or may befall Men, he hath established an order for them in the Heavens, disposing the course, aspects, and various influences of the Stars, to draw out of Nothing those accidents at the time that they are to happen to Men, whom they incline to meet the same; yet so as to leave it in the power of their freewill to avoid or expose themselves unto them without any constraint. This truth is sufficiently confirmed by the exact and admirable correspondence which is found between the most signal accidents of our lives, and the hour of our Nativities; so that Astrologers not only conjecture by the time of the Nativity what is to come to pass, but they also come to the knowledge of the true minute of the Nativity, by the time at which accidents arrive, and take this course to correct Horoscopes, and Figures ill drawn. And although long Experience may attest the certainty of this Art, yet I confess, since the faculties and qualities of the Stars are not perfectly known to us, and we cannot always precisely know the disposition of Heaven▪ much less all the combinations of the Stars; Astrology, in respect of us, is very uncertain and difficult, but not therefore the less true and admirable in itself. It is like a great Book printed in Hebrew Letters without points, which is cast aside and slighted by the ignorant, and admired by the more intelligent. So the Heavens being enamelled by God's Hand with Stars and Planets as with bright Characters, which by their Combinations figure the various accidents which are to befall Men, are never considered by the ignorant, to dive into their Mysteries, but only by the Learned; who themselves many times commit mistakes when they go about to read them, because those shining Characters have no other Vowels, or rather no other voice, but that of God, who is the true Intelligence thereof.  
The Sixth said, Three sorts of persons err touching the credit which is to be given to Astrological Predictions. Some believe them not at all, others believe them too little, and others too much. As for the first, since they cannot deny that the Stars are universal causes of sublunary effects; that such causes are of different natures and virtues, and that their action and virtue is dispensed by the motion which is successive and known; they must of necessity confess, that knowing the disposition of sublunary subjects, the nature of the Stars, and their motion, many natural effects may be fore-seen and foretell from them. The Devil himself knows no future things certainly, but by foreseeing the effects of particular causes in their universal causes, which are the Stars. They who believe too little confess that the Stars act upon the Elements and mixed Bodies; for very Peasants know thus much, besides many particular effects of the Moon. But as for Man, whose Soul of itself is not dependent upon any natural cause, but free, and Mistress of its own actions, they cannot, or for Religion's sake, dare not affirm that it is subject to Celestial Influences, at least, in reference to manners. Yet it is no greater absurdity to say, that the Soul is subject to the Stars, then to say with Aristotle and Galen, that it is subject to the Temperament of the Body, which also is caused by the Stars; from the influence and action whereof the Soul cannot exempt its Body, nor the Temperament thereof by which she acts. Lastly, they who give too much credit to the Stars hold that all things are guided by a fatal and irrevocable order of Nature; contrary to Reason, which admits the Author to be the Master of his own work; and to Experience, which assures us of the standing still of the Sun for Joshuah, of his going backward for Hezechiah, and of his Eclipse at full Moon during the Passion. The Fourth Opinion is certain, that there is truth in Astrological Predictions; but it behoveth to believe them only in a due measure, since the Science of itself is but conjectural.   

II. Whether is less unblamable, Avarice or Prodigality.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That Avarice is less unblamable than Prodigality. For the latter is more fertile in bad actions then the former, which though otherwise vicious, yet refrains from the pleasures and debaucheries in which the Prodigal usually swims. The Holy Scripture intending to set forth an example of Infinite Mercy, relates that of the Prodigal Son, who obtained pardon of the sin which is least worthy of it. Moreover, Prodigality doth far less good than Covetousness, for this always looks at its own profit, and takes care for its own benefit, and the preservation of its dependants; so that it exerciseth at least the first fundamental of Charity, which is, to do well to those who are nearest us. On the contrary, Prodigality ruins and perverts the Laws of Nature, leading a Man to the destruction of his relatives, and the undoing of himself; like Saturn and Time, it devours its own issue, and consumes itself, to the damage of the Commonwealth, whose interest it is that every Man use well what belongs to him. Therefore all Laws have enacted penalties against Prodigals, depriving them of the administration of their own Estates; and the most Sacred Edicts of our King's aim at the correcting of the Luxury of Prodigality. But never were any Laws, Punishments, or inflictions ordained against Covetousness, because Prodigality causeth the down-fall and destruction of the most Illustrious Houses; which cannot be attributed to Covetousness, for this seems rather to have built them.  
The Second said, That, according to Aristotle, amongst all the virtuous, none wins more Love than the Liberal, because there is always something to be gotten by him; as amongst all the vicious none is more hated and shunned by all the world than the covetous, who doth not only not give any thing, but draws to himself the most he can from every one and from the public, in which he accounts himself so little concerned, that he considers it no farther then how he may make his profit of it. He is so loath to part with his treasures when he dies, that he would gladly be his own Heir (as Hermocrates appointed himself by his Testament) or else he would swallow down his Crowns (as that other Miser did, whom Athenaeus mentions.) But the Prodigal (free from that self-interest, which causes so great troubles in the world) gives all to the public, and keeps nothing for himself. Whence, according to Aristotle, the Prodigal is not so remote from Virtue as the Covetous, it being easier to make the former Liberal than the latter.  
The Third said, These two Vices are equally opposed to Liberality, and consequently one as distant from it as the other. For as the Covetous is Vicious in that he receives too much and gives nothing; so is the Prodigal in that he gives too much and receives nothing at all, or receives only to give. But Covetousness hath this privilege, that it finds a Virtue from which it is very little distant, namely, Frugality, or Parsimony, to which Prodigality is diametrically opposed. Nor is it of little advantage to it, that it is ordinarily found in Old Men, whom we account wiser than others; for having learned by the experience of many years, that all friends have failed them in time of need, and that their surest refuge hath been their own Purse; they do not willingly part with what they have taken pains to gather together, which is another reason in favour of Covetousness. For Virtue and Difficulty seem in a manner reciprocal. But Prodigality is very easy and usual to foolish Youth, which, thinking never to find the bottom of the barrel, draws forth incessantly, and gives so freely, that being over-taken with necessity, it is constrained to have recourse to Covetousness, which sets it upon its legs again. Nor ever was there a Father that counselled his Son to be prodigal, but rather to be thrifty and close-handed. And yet the Gospel and Experience show, that Fathers give and advise what is most expedient to their Children.  
The Fourth said, As Rashness is much less unblamable than Cowardice, so is Prodigality than Avarice. For the Prodigal holding it ignominious to receive, and glorious always to give, likes rather to deprive and divest himself of his goods, then to deny any one whatsoever. On the other side, the Covetous doth nothing but receive on all hands; and never gives any thing but with hope to receive more. Now it is much more noble to give then to receive; for Giving supposes Having. The Prodigal knowing well that goods and riches are given by God, only to serve for necessary instruments to the living more commodiously, and that they are not riches if they be not made use of, employs them, and accommodates himself and others therewith; but the Covetous doth not so much as make use of them for himself, and so destroys their end.  
The Fifth said, If the Question did not oblige us to compare these two Vices together, I should follow Demosthenes' sentence which he gave in the quarrel of two Thiefs that accused one another, which was, that the one should be banished Athens, and the other should run after him. I should no less drive out of a well-policyed State the Covetous and the Prodigal. The first is Aesop's Dog, who keeps the Ox from eating the hay, whereof himself tastes not; like the Bears who hinder Men from approaching Mines of Gold, and yet make no use thereof. The other is like those Fruit-trees which grow in Precipices, of which only Crows and Birds of prey eat the Fruit; vicious persons alone ordinarily get benefit by them. But yet this latter Vice seems to me more pernicious than the other. For whether you consider them in particular, The Covetous raises an Estate which many times serves to educate and support better Men than himself: But Prodigality is the certain ruin of their Fortunes who are addicted to it, and carries them further to all other Vices, to which Necessity serves more truly for a cause then reasonably for an excuse; or whether you consider them in general, 'tis the most ordinary overthrow of States. And possibly he that should seek the true cause of public Inconveniences, would sooner find it in Luxury and Prodigality, then in any thing else. Therefore Solons' Law declared Prodigals infamous, and gave power to their Creditors to dis-member them and cut them in pieces. Our Ordinances, in imitation of the Roman Law, which ranks them under the predicament of Madmen, forbids and deprives them of the administration of their own goods, as not knowing how to use them.  
The Sixth said, Avarice is like those Gulfs that swallow up Ships, and never disgorge them again; and Prodigality like a Rock that causes shipwrecks, the ruins whereof are cast upon the coasts of Barbarians; and therefore both of them ought to be banished, and I have no Vote for either. Yet Prodigality seems to me more fair, and Covetousness more severe.    

CONFERENCE XXIII.  
I. Of Physiognomy. II. Of Artificial Memory.  

I. Of Physiognomy.  
Theophrastus' accusing Nature for not having made a window to the Heart, perhaps meant; to the Soul. For though the Heart were seen naked, yet would not the intentions be visible; they reside in another apartment. The Countenance, and amongst its other parts, the Eye seems to be the most faithful messenger thereof. It doth not only intimate sickness and health, it shows also hatred and love, anger and fear, joy and sadness. In short, 'tis the true mirror of the Body and the Soul, unless when the Visage puts on the mask of Hypocrisy, against which we read indeed some experiences; as when Ulysses discovered the dissimulation of Achilles, disguised in the dress of a Damsel, by the gracefulness wherewith he saw him wield a sword; but there are no rules or maxims against it, and never less than in this Age of counterfeits; in which he that is not deceived, well deserves the name of Master. For security from it, some ingenious persons have invented Rules whereby the inclinations of every one may be discerned; as Masons applying the Rule, Square, and Levelly upon a stone, judge whether it incline more to one side then the other. For you see there are many different species of Animals, every one whereof is again subdivided into many others, as is observed in Dogs and Horses; but there are more different sorts of Men. Whence the Philosophers of old took up the opinion of Metempsychoses, or Transanimations, imagining there could not but be (for example) the Soul of a Fox in those whom they found very crafty; and that the Soul which delighted to plunge itself in filthiness and impurity must needs have been heretofore in the Body of a swine. And though the outward shape of Man puts a vail upon all those differences, yet they are visible through the same to those who have a good sight; as we may distinguish Ladies through the Cypress with which they veil themselves at this day, it we take good heed, otherwise we may be mistaken. We must therefore inquire, here, whether through the external figure common to all Men, what every one hath peculiar be not the sign of his inclinations; either as the Effect, or as the Cause of the same: As redness of the Cheeks is usually an argument of the disposition of the Lungs. Nor is it material to know why it is a sign, it sufficeth to me to know that it is so. To which the variety of Bodies, and especially of Faces, affords great probability, because Nature hath made nothing in vain; and why this variety, unless to serve for a sign, since it serves to distinguish them?  
The Second said, Physiognomy is the knowledge of the inside by the outside, that is, of the affections and inclinations of the Mind by external and sensible signs, as colour and Figure. It is grounded upon the correspondence of the Soul with the Body, which is such that they manifestly participate the affections one of the other. If the Body be sick, the Soul is altered in its operations, as we see in high Fevers. On the contrary, let the Soul be sad or joyful, the Body is so too. Therefore the Sophisters of old purged themselves with Hellebor when they would dispute best. For though in its essence the Soul depends not on the corporeal Organs, yet it depends upon the same in its operations, which are different according to the divers structure of the Organs; which, if they were alike disposed, their actions would be alike in all, and at all times. Whence, (saith Aristotle) an old man would see as clear as a young man, if he had the Eyes of a young man.  
The Third said, To make a certain judgement upon external signs, heed must be taken that they be natural. For 'tis possible for one of a Sanguine Constitution to have a pale and whitish colour, either through fear, sickness, study, or some other accident. The Phlegmatic when he hath drunk to excess, been at a good fire, is in anger, or ashamed of something, will have a red Face. And yet he that should argue from these signs would be mistaken.  
The Fourth said, Since Physiognomists grant that their Rules are not to be applied but to Men void of all Passions, which so change the Body that it seems another from itself; I conceive, this Art is altogether impossible. For I would know in what moment we are to be taken without Sadness, Joy, Hatred, Love, Anger; in short, without any of those Passions so inseparable from our Life, that Xanthus found no better way to be revenged on Aesop, then to ask him for a Man that cared for nothing; such as he would be that should have no Passions. What then will become of the goodly Rules of Physiognomy, after that Education of Youth hath corrected perverse inclinations, that Philosophy hath given the lie to the Physiognomists of this Age, as it did heretofore to Zopyrus, when he pronounced his opinion upon Socrates; or that Piety, as is seen in so many holy personages, hath reformed the Will, evil habits, and Nature itself?  
The Fifth said, As there is nothing more wonderful then to judge of a Man's manners at the first sight, so there is nothing more difficult. It is endeavoured four ways. First, By the structure of each part of the Body. So the great Head and square Forehead, denote Prudence and good judgement; the small Head shows that there is little brain, and narrow room for the exercise of the internal senses; the sharp Head denotes impudence. The Second way, is, by the Temperament. So the ruddy countenance, yellow hair, and other signs of the Sanguine Humour, show an indifferent Spirit, pleasant, and inclined to Love. A pale complexion, fat Body, clear voice, slow gate, which are the characters of Phlegm, denote cowardice and sloth. Soft and tender flesh is a token of subtlety of the Senses, and consequently of the wit; hard flesh, of dulness. Whence Man, the wisest of all Animals, hath a more delicate flesh than any of them. The Third way, is, by comparing the external signs of every one with those which are observed in Men when they are in Passion. So because he that is in Choler hath sparkling Eyes, hoarse voice, and the jugular veins turgid; we conclude that he who hath all these signs naturally, is naturally inclined to that Passion. But as for the Fourth and last, which is, by comparing Man with other Animals, heed must be taken how we credit such a sign alone. For as a single letter doth not make a discourse, so an external similitude alone with an Animal doth not infer the resemblance of our Nature to that of that Animal. There must be a concurrence of many of these signs together. As if I see a Man with a neck moderately fleshy, a large breast, and the other parts in proportion, as the Lion hath; harsh hair, as the Bear; a strong sight, as the Eagle; I shall conclude that this Man is strong and courageous.  
The Sixth said, That the reason why Physiognomists choose irrational creatures, to signify the inclinations and manners of Men rather than Men themselves, is, because Man is a variable Animal, and most commonly useth dissimulation in his actions; Whereas Animals, void of Reason, less conceal from us the inclinations of their Nature, by which they permit themselves to be guided. So we see the same person will sometimes do an act of Courage, sometime another of Cowardice; sometimes he will be merciful, at another time cruel. But other Animals are uniform in all their actions. The Lion is always generous, the Hare ever cowardly; the Tiger, cruel; the Fox, crafty; the Sheep, harmless. So that a certain judgement may be passed upon these, but not upon Men.  
The Seventh said, That as the accidents superven'd to our Bodies after our Birth afford no certain judgement, but only the signs which we bring from our Mother's Womb; so the natural inclinations and habits may be well judged of by exact inspection into the constitution on which they depend; but not those which are acquisitious, whereof no certain judgement is to be had. Yet this inspection of the Temperament is very uncertain too, by reason it is extremely difficult to understand the constitution of every one; so that Galen confesses, that after fifty years' study in Physic, he could not attain a perfect knowledge thereof.  
The Eighth said, It is a groundless thing to make our manners depend upon the colour which the Excrementitious Humours produce in the skin; much less do they depend upon the shape of the Muscles, which altars when a Man grows fat or lean, and follows the conformation of the Bones; and yet less upon the Lineaments, which have nothing to do with our internal disposition; what ever Experiences Spigelius allegeth, of having observed in his dissections, that all those who were executed for Crimes prepensed long before, had the two lines which are upon the uppermost part of the Nose, crossing one the other when they knit their brows.   

II. Of Artificial Memory.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That the Art of Memory invented (as 'tis reported) by Simonides, is a company of Rules, by help of which the species of things disposed in the treasure of the Memory are revived. And the action of this Faculty consisting in a certain temper of the Brain, which may be preserved and amended by the right use of external things; they deny the sensible effects of Physic, who question, whether the Memory may be perfected, and consequently, whether there may be an Art of it. Raymond lully hath comprised his in a Categorical or mystical Order; Rombertio, in his memorable Reductions; Gesualdo the Neapolitan, in certain Characters; all, in Places, Images, and Order. First for Places, as in passing near a place, it puts you in mind of what you have seen or done there; so taking a certain place so well known to you that it cannot escape you, as your lodging, or the four walls of your Chamber; it will faithfully return to you the things that you shall consign to it. Secondly, for Images; as it is impossible but I must remember my friend when I see his picture; so when I look upon certain Images which shall signify to me the things whereof I am to treat, (with which consequently they must have correspondence) I easily remember those things. These Images must either be without us, as Statues or Hangings of Tapestry are to a Preacher; or else within us, and so effectual and known that they always come into our Minds, as the red and pimpled Face of a known person doth, to signify Choler and Drunkenness; a pale face, for fear; and so of the other points of the discourse. Thirdly, for Order, it is by consent of all termed the parent and guardian of Memory.  
The Second said, That to question the benefit of the Art of Memory, which makes Rules for the same, is, to be an Enemy to Order. And because we cannot judge better of one contrary then by the other; the good thereof is best apprehended by considering the evils which arise from confusion. For as we know nothing but what we have in our Memory, whence the words of knowing and being mindful are very fitly taken by the vulgar for the same thing: So as Man may have abundance of motions, yet if he know not how to use them in a ●itting occasion, or if his knowledge be confused, he deserves rather the name of a shufler then of a knowing man; and this for want of the Order which the Art of Memory teacheth us. For all things have some connexion among themselves, either Natural or Artificial. The former is found in Tree of Substance and Accidents. Plants have their rank, Animals theirs; and amongst Men, Time, Place, Dignity, and some circumstances supply the like to them. As Cyrus was before Alexander, he before Caesar; and again, he before Cicero in dignity, and Cicero before Roscius. But the Memory is chiefly troubled to retain the artificial connexion of things and words, assigned to them by our own disposal, especially when the same is remote from the natural. 'Tis here that the wonders of this Art are particularly discovered; by help whereof Seneca, in his Declamations, glories that he learned the names of two thousand persons, and repeated them in the same order wherein they were pronounced to him. Cardan confesses that he owed all he knew to this Art. And Cardinal Perron knew how to use it so well before Henry III that he caused himself to be taken for the Author of an Heroic Poem, which he repeated, word for word, after hearing it once read.  
The Third said, That seeing Memory hath oftentimes failed great personages at need, as Demosthenes before Philip, Budaeus before Charles V. and many others; it is as profitable to strengthen it, as the Rules are difficult which conduce thereunto. Some fancy to themselves five chambers, in each corner whereof, they place a Man of their acquaintance, and in their Minds apply to his Head the first word or thing which they would remember; upon his right arm, the second; the third, upon his left arm; the fourth, upon the right foot; and the fifth, upon the left; (the number five seeming to them the most easy for Multiplication) If the thing be not corporeal, they conceive it under some species representing the sound of the word; or else of two they make one, or divide it; proceeding thus from corner to corner, and from chamber to chamber, and adding five more to the former, if need require. Others compose a word of the first letters or syllables of the names which they would repeat; as if I would speak first of Augustus, then of the Emperor's Rodolphus, Mathias, Valentinian, and lastly, of Solon; I take the word Armus, in which I find their first letters, which guide me to the rest. The same they do at the beginning of periods, which some others make to begin where the preceding end.  
The Fourth said, Memory is an Internal Sense, which (as the other two, Fancy and Common Sense) depends only upon Nature. And as the fabulous Salmoneus was struck with Lightning for having imitated Lightning; so they who go about to alter by their artifice this Divine Workmanship, find themselves rewarded with the utter loss of their natural Memory. Moreover, the softness of the Brain is the cause of a good Memory, and the hardness thereof of its weakness; whence Children have better Memories then grown persons. Now we cannot change the consistence of the Brain, and they who have used Balm-water and other remedies for that purpose, have found that they more weakened their Judgements then strengthened their Memories. From whence ariseth another reason to show that those two Faculties being for the most part equally balanced, it is no easier for him that hath a bad Memory to make it better, then to procure a good Judgement in him which wants it.  
The Fifth saith, He conceived it no less difficult to remember the Places, Images, and odd precepts of this Art, and apply them to the subject, then to learn by heart at first the things themselves, or their words; which also when learned by this Art are soon lost, as being found upon chimaeras, of which the Mind cannot always so thoroughly clear itself but there will be left some Idea thereof; more apt to trouble the Memory then to assist it always. However, I had rather learn a little, labouronsly, with the profit and impression ordinarily accompanying my pains, then feed upon those vain pictures. Wherefore I am prone to think, that either there is no Art of Memory, or else that it is unprofitable or mischievous, and as such to be rejected by all the world.  
The Sixth said, Since where ever there is defect, there is need of some Art to correct the same, and remove from the Faculties the obstacles which they meet with in the exercise of their Offices; why should Memory alone be destitute of this succour? Considering it hath ways so various, that not only words which signify something, but those which signify nothing are of use to the Memory. Therefore Aristotle saith, He who would remember must make barbarismes. And to six a name or word in the Mind, a Man will utter many which come near it. But as this Art is not to be despised, so neither is it always to be made use of, much less in things which have some order of themselves; as, Anatomy, Geography, Chronology, and History; or in which a good natural Memory can contrive any. They who have this Faculty vigorous from their birth, or made it such by exercise, wrong themselves in employing the precepts of this Art for that purpose; as a Man of five and twenty years old should do if he made use of spectacles; having no need thereof. But it is only fit for those who having a weak Memory would remember many barbarous names or some coats and numbers, the variety whereof many times breeds confusion; for the recollecting of which, this Art teaches to remember certain shapes, figures, or species, sometimes the most uncouth that can be excogitated, to the end the Fancy may be more effectually moved by the same.    

CONFERENCE XXIV.  
I. Which of the Five Senses is the most noble. II. Of Laughter.  

I. Which of the five Senses is the most Noble.  
AS he who hath the present sense of any Disease, accounts that the greatest; so they who exercise some one of their Senses more than the rest, who get profit by it, or are delighted in it, willingly award the preceedence to the same. Take the judgement of a Perfumer, he values nothing but Odours and the smell, which judgeth thereof. He will tell you, that if we had the perfect knowledge of Aromatical Compositions, they would ravish all our Senses; that Perfume must needs have something Divine in it, because God so loved it, that he particularly reserved it to himself, and forbade all others to use a certain Composition, under pain of death. The same is also argued from the offence we take at the evil scent of any stinking thing, that so the very name of it passing only through our ears displeases us in such sort, as to disparage the truth of the Proverb, that Words do not stink; as, on the contrary, the name alone of the Rose, Violet and Jasmin, seems to recreate the smelling by the Ear. Poets and Lovers will be for the Eyes and the Touch. They who understand Optics will hold that 'tis the seeing which affordeth the greatest wonders; Whence Comical Representations move so powerfully, and Sight hath more influence upon us then Hear-say. If you will take the judgement of Musicians, the Hearing shall carry the Bell from the other senses; and this Position is backed with the experience of Melody, Persuasion, and the Art of Oratory; which caused Antiquity to feign two sorts of Hercules, the one who subdued monsters with the blows of his club, and the other who captivated his Auditors with chains of Gold, reaching from his Tongue to their Ears. Philoxenus, who wished a Crane's neck, and they who live only to drink and eat, (whereas we drink and eat to live) will give the pre-eminence to the Taste. Wherefore, in my Opinion, this Question is hard to be decided, because it requires impartial Judges, whose number is very small.  
The Second said, That for the right judging of the Cause, all parties ought to be heard. As for the Sight, the fabric of its Organ, so artificially composed of Humours and Tunicles, and guarded with Eyelids and Brows, as so many ramparts for its preservation, sufficiently plead its excellence. But that, of the six Couple of Nerves, (for so many only there are) in the Brain, the first and the second are peculiarly destinated to the Eyes; this shows how highly Nature tenders them above all other parts. Moreover, Vision is performed in an Instant, and makes present to us those things which are as remote from us, as Heaven is from Earth, and this by spiritual qualities; (for the Actions of Bodies are not expedited but in Time) this is an other argument of its Excellence. Further, since nothing is more goodly than Light, it seems to follow that nothing is more excellent than the Sight, whose Object it is. Whence some Philosophers conceived the Soul to have chosen the Eyes for its Mansion. Next then for Hearing; this Sense seems to feed the Soul, or rather to give it birth. For if the Soul be considered naturally, its food and life is to understand, reason, and discourse; to which purposes the Hearing alone is serviceable, being for this cause termed the Sense of Discipline. If the Soul be considered as it enjoys a life more noble than the natural, namely, that of Grace; the Sense of Hearing seems the Author of this Life. For, the Just lives by Faith, saith the Holy Scripture. Now this Faith comes from Hearing, as the Apostle testifies, and not from Seeing; For it is the evidence of things not seen; and where we see, there is no longer Faith. As for the Smelling; indeed good Odours recreate the Brain, repair the Animal Spirits, purify and fit them to assist the Soul when it exerciseth its most noble operations; but the weak Title of this Sense seems to need a better Advocate than all the rest. The Senses of Tasting and Touching remain, but both in the same degree, because one proceeds from the other; Gustation being a sort of Contact. In considering of these two Senses, methinks, I hear them complain of the ingratitude of Men for placing them in the lowest form, notwithstanding their great service in the birth of Mankind, by Generation, which is a kind of Touching, and in the subsequent preservation thereof incessantly by the Sense of Tasting. And yet since all the commendation of an Instrument is to be measured by its end and benefit, (as the praise of a Knife is to cut well) therefore of the Senses, which are the Instruments of the Body and the Soul, the most beneficial (as the Touch and Taste are) must be the most noble: For they are absolutely necessary to our Being, but the other three only to our Wellbeing, and that we may live more pleasantly. Moreover, Nature hath so highly esteemed the Sense of Touching and its actions, that she hath found none of them bad or useless, as there is in the other Senses. Pain itself, which seems the chief Enemy of it, is so necessary, that without the same, Animals (as Aristotle testifies) would perish like Plants; for it is like a Sentinel, taking heed that no mischief befall them.  
The Third stood up for the Hearing. Sounds (said he) are of that efficacy and power, that amongst the Objects of the Senses, they alone make the Soul take as many different postures as themselves are various. The sound of the Trumpet, or a warlike Song, animates and puts us into fury; change the Tune, and you make the weapons fall out of the hands of the most outrageous. Devotion is enkindled by it, Mirth increased; briefly, nothing is impossible to it. It's action is so noble, that by it we receive the notices of all things; in which regard the Ear is particularly dedicated to the Memory: Hence also speech is more efficacious, and makes greater impression upon the Mind, then converse only with dumb Masters, or the contemplation of things by help of the Sight. And the structure of its Organ, both internal and external, contrived with so many Labyrinths, a Drumb, a Stirrup, an Anvil, a Hammer, Membranes, Arteries, and Nerves, and so many other parts fortified with strong battlements of Bones, is a sufficient evidence of its nobleness.  
The Fourth fell into commendation of the Eyes, which are the windows at which the Soul most manifestly shows herself, and is made most to admire her Creator; but he added, that many times they serve for an inlet, at which the Devil steals the Soul; which a great person complains that he lost by his Eyes. I should therefore attribute (said he) the preeminence to the Touch, as more exquisite in Man then in any Animal, and consequently most noble, because found in the most noble substance. For 'tis probable Nature gave Man, by way of preeminence, the most noble Faculties not only in the Soul, but also in the Body. Now other Animals excel us in the other Senses; the Dog, in Smelling; the Ape, in Tasting; the Hart, in Hearing; and the Eagle, in Seeing.  
The Fifth argued, in favour of Hearing, alleging that a Man may attain Knowledge without Sight; and that upon observation, Blind people have better Memories and Judgements than others, because their Souls being less taken up with external actions, become more vigorous in internal operations, for that their Spirits are less dissipated. Upon which consideration, a certain Philosopher thought fit to pull out his own Eyes, that so he might be more free for contemplation, and the study of Wisdom. But without the Hearing, it is impossible to have the least degree of Knowledge in the world, not even so much as that of talking familiarly to little Children. For one deaf by Nature is likewise dumb, and by consequence altogether useless to humane society; yea, if we take Aristotle's word for it, he is less than Man. For Man (saith he) deserves not that name but inasmuch as he is sociable; and such he is not, if he be unable to express his conceptions, which cannot be done without speech. Of which speech the Hearing being the cause, the same is also the cause that he is capable of the denomination of Man. And being thereby differenced from Brutes, it follows that it is the most noble piece of his accoutrements.  
The Sixth said, If Nobility be taken for Antiquity, the Touch will be the noblest of the Senses; because it appears the first and the last in an Animal. Moreover, it is designed for the noblest End, to wit, Propagation, by which the individual makes itself eternal; and which is more, it comprehends under it the Taste, the Hearing and the Smelling: For we cannot Taste, Hear, or Smell, unless the species actually touch the Tongue, the Drum of the Ear, and the Mammillary Processes. Add hereunto, that Utility being the Note of Excellency, as is seen in State Policy, and the Art Military, the Touch must be the most excellent; since it serves for Eyes not only to the Blind who guide themselves by groping, but also to some Animals, as Snails, Moles, and also all Infects, who make use of their horns and feet as dextrously as others of their Eyes.   

II. Of Laughter.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, We here wanted some Priests of that God of Laughter, to whom, as Apulieus (in his Golden Ass) relates, the Inhabitants of the City of Hypate celebrated yearly a Feast, at which himself was made a Victim. There are few but have read what Laughter he caused, when defending himself against the charge of Murder he found that the three Men whom he thought he had slain were three leathern bottles; and for his reward he received this promise, That all should succeed to his advantage. Indeed Fortune seems to favour Laughers; whereas here accusers and malcontents readily find new causes of dissatisfaction and complaint. Whence possibly arose the Proverb, which saith, That when things go well with a Man, He hath the Laughers on his side. This Goddess Fortune seems to be of the Humour of Women, (in whose shape she is portrayed) who rather love merry persons then severe. Yea, generally, all prefer a jolly Humour, and a smiling Face, before the solemnness and wrinkled brow of the Melancholy; which you may daily observe from Children, who avoid the latter, and readily run to the former, as it were by instinct of Nature. The Latin Distich saith, That the Spleen causeth Laughter; 
Splen ridere facit.—  possibly because it serves for the receptacle of Melancholy which hinders it; just as white Wine, having more lee or sediment at the bottom than Claret, retaineth less thereof in its substance, and is consequently more diuretical.  
The second said, That the first rise of laughter is in the Fancy, which figuring to it selfsome species not well according together, represents a disproportion to the Intellect, not wholly disagreeable, for than it would displease, but absurd, new, and unordinary. Then the Judgement coming to conjoin those disproportionate species, makes a compound thereof; which not agreeing with what was expected from them, the Judgement cannot wholly approve of the same by reason of the disproportion, nor yet wholly reject it, by reason of something which pleases it within. From this contest ariseth a sally of the Faculty, which during this contrariety, causeth contraction of the Nerves. Which if it be but small, it produceth only smiling; but if it be violent, then by the confluence of the Spirits it causeth loud laughter. Now that Laughter is seated in the Imagination appears hence, that if we have heard or seen some ridiculous thing, we many times laugh at it, though the Object be not present. 'Tis also Disproportion that makes us laugh, for we do not so when we behold a great Beauty; but we do so when we look upon some odd ill-contrived countenance, or when we find little sutableness between the Objects which are represented to us; as an Old-man making Love, a huge Hat upon a small Head, one intending to make a graceful Reverence, or cut a fine caper and falling all along; in brief, every thing that is said or done incongruously besides our expectation; especially if no other more violent Passion interpose, as Fear, Respect, and Pity, which suppress Laughter. We laugh at a Man that falls down, but should he break his neck with the fall, our Laughter would give place to Compassion. In fine, it appears that there is made a retraction of the Nerves during Laughter; for we see a Convulsion causeth the same motion of the Muscles of the Face that Laughter doth; whence cometh that malady which is called Risus Sardonicus, in which, by the retraction of the Nerves towards their Original, the Patient seems to laugh as he dies.  
The Third said, He knew not whether of the two had most reason, Democritus the Laugher, or Heraclitus the Weeper. For though the Faculty of Laughing be peculiar to Man, and inseparable from Reason, yet immoderate Laughter is as unacceptable as continual Tears. And whereas we read in the Holy Scripture that our Lord sometimes wept, but not that he ever laughed; this may be resolved, That nothing was new to him: The same being recorded of Heathens, so stayed and reserved that they were never seen to laugh; as Crassus, Cato the Censor, Photion, and some others. There is more difficulty in stating the Cause of Laughter. Aristotle attributes it to the Diaphragme which is dilated by heat. But seeing we laugh less in a Fever when the Diaphragme is most heated, it is certain, either that every heat of the Diaphragme doth not produce this effect, or some other cause must be joined with it. Which I conceive to be an impression made in our Senses, and by them in our Fancy, of some agreeable, unusual, and unforeseen Object, when the same slips into it unawares. Which Object, exciting Joy in us by the Dilatation of the Spirits, which is made first in the Arteries of the Brain, and thereby insinuated into these of the Heart which opens to that Joy; those dilated Spirits swell the Blood in the Veins which accompanies them; so that not being containable in their own place, the Veins and Arteries swell till they make a reflux in the Brain, Diaphragme, Lungs, Face, and all the parts of the Body, where they cause the concussion and agitation observed in excessive Laughter, and sometimes Tears, by the compression of the Brain; whilst it is not possible for any to check the eruption, what ever respect be presented to them; yea, sometimes the Spirits are so rarified that they evaporate, whence follows sudden death; as it befell Chrysippus of old, who seeing an Ass eat figs at the end of his table, fell into so vehement Laughter that he died immediately.  
The Fourth said, Laughter is a motion of the Body which follows that of the Soul. Its Object is a sudden Joy surprising us, as a pleasant word after a serious discourse. The scorn we make of any one causeth Laughter likewise; because Contempt is a kind of Anger made up of Pleasure and Grief. When the Pleasure happens to be greater than the Grief, (as it happens when our Enemy is so weak that we can be revenged on him when we list) this contentment causeth us to laugh. And hence it is that Slighting is more offensive than Hatred alone. Joubertus thinks, Laughter is excited when Pleasure expands the Heart, which by that dilatation gives motion to the Diaphragme, and this consequently draws the Muscles of the Lips. Aristotle saith, that by tickling a motion is caused in the Spirits, which go and come to the place where the Man feels the Pleasure; which Spirits passing and repassing light upon the Nerves, who being too sensible and solicited by the continual motion and agitation thereof, endeavour to drive the same away; and to that purpose contract themselves, and draw unto themselves the parts into which they are inserted. Hence, in a great Laughter, a Man is forced to compress himself, and the sides ache with much laughing, by reason of the tension of the Muscles and Nerves, which are most agitated in that place. Wherefore, in my judgement, Laughter is caused in this sort. The sudden Pleasure or Titillation excites a motion of the Spirits, which being very subtle are easily carried up to the Head; there their agitation and motion importunes the Nerves and the Brain, so that in the midst of this Pleasure there is caused a kind of Convulsive Motion. And for that this agitation is chiefly inward, therefore the internal parts first feel the effects of that gentle Convulsion: the Diaphragme being more pliant, and receiving more Nerves of the sixth Conjugation, is agitated the most vehemently. In profuse Laughter the Nerves of the whole Body sympathise with this disposition of the Brain, their Common Original; which being importuned by those Spirits, (who, though but natural, are yet able to incommode the same by their too great agitation) it contracts itself to be discharged of them, attracting the Nerves to itself as much as it can; whence proceeds this kind of Convulsion.  
The Fifth said, That the cause of Laughter is twofold, namely, its Object which is of great latitude, as good news, unexpected joy, which it is impossible to receive without laughing; and its Subject, which is indeed the Diaphragme; for they who are wounded in that part seem to die laughing, as Hypocrates, in the seventh of his epidemics, observes to have befallen one Plychon for the same cause: And this is no otherwise then as a certain kind of Ranunculus, (an Herb, we call Crowfoot) being eaten causeth loss of the Spirits, and by the contraction of the Lips represents the Convulsion which is made during Laughter.    

CONFERENCE XXV.  
I. Of the Diversity of Countenances. II. Whether Man or Woman be the more noble.  

I. Of the Diversity of Countenances▪  
IDentity is so disagreeable, that in all the objects of the Senses it displeases us. Our Taste is glutted with always eating the same Bread. The most excellent Odour, at length, causeth the Headache. To look too wistly upon the same object, or to be too long together beheld by the same Eye fixed upon us, is troublesome. The Ear is tired with twice hearing the same Tune, and being continually struck upon by one and the same discourse, how excellent soever it be. The Touch, the grossest of all the Senses, is weary of one and the same temper of Air; whence is drawn a certain consequence, That the people under the Equinoctial, or other Climate always like to itself, are sooner weary of living, then others who have not leisure to be tired with one season because another soon succeeds it. On the contrary, we see variety of Food raiseth the languishing Appetite; the diversity of Odours which succeed one another, delight the Smelling. Nothing is more acceptable to the Sight than a Meadow chequered with several colours, or a garden variegated with Tulips and other Flowers, of all sorts and hues which the Spring discloses. Harmony proceeds from the variety of Notes; and the Orator who would move his Auditors must not speak too long upon the same thing in the same words; he must alter his gesture and voice, and the pauses which distinguish his action are very serviceable to that purpose. But as there is nothing more swift than the Sight, so no Sense is sooner weary with the semblance of its objects. The reason whereof is this, being a most active sense, its operation doth not make itself perceived by the Eye, but by the changing of the object. So that when it beholds always the same thing, it seems to itself as if it beheld nothing. Look upon the Earth all covered with Snow, or a Chamber wholly hung with Black, or some other single colour, the Sight is offended therewith: If Green offends us less, it is because it is compounded of Yellow and Blue, and the best blended of all the Colours, and as such reunites the visual rays between its two extremes; yet it affordeth nothing near the delightfulness that ariseth from the variety of Tapestry. I conceive therefore that the chief end of the diversity of Countenances, is Distinction, and lest the same thing should betid Women that did Alcmene, in Plautus, who suffered Jupiter to quarter with her, because she took him for her Husband Amphitryo. But the subordinate end is the Contentment which Man finds in this variety. As for other causes, the Efficient indeed doth something; for Children commonly resemble their Fathers and Mothers: But the Material contributes very much hereunto; so that they who (for example) are begotten of a Masculine and Feminine Geniture, wherein the sanguine temper is equally prevalent, resemble one another, and have a ruddy and well shaped Countenance. But because 'tis next to impossible, that the said temper should be equally found in two different subjects, thence ariseth the variety of Complexions and Lineaments.  
The Second said, There is as great variety in all natural things as in Faces, though it be not so remarkable to us. For we see Birds and Beasts distinguish one another very well. Now the Final Cause of this Diversity seems to me to be the ornament of the World, 
Mundus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, quasi 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ornatus.  which otherwise would have nothing less than the importance of its name. Music and Painting receive graces from things which in reality are nothing, namely, Pauses, which are only privations of Notes; and shadows, which are defects of light. This diversity of Visages, which ariseth from that of the persons and their inclinations, is as well contributory to the splendour and beauty of a state as of nature. For if all things were alike, there would be a confused identity and general disorder, not much different from the ancient Chaos. Nothing would be acted in Nature; for action is not between things like, but between things contrary. Nor would there be Beauty in the Countenance, if there were not diversity in the parts; but all the Face were Eye or Nose. For Beauty ariseth from Proportion, and this from the correspondence of many different parts. Very little would there be amongst Men, if all were alike; there being no Beauty when there is no deformity whereunto it may be compared; and who so takes away Beauty takes away Love, of which it is the foundation. This divine link of humane society would be destroyed; for Love is a desire to obtain what we want, and another possesseth; and therefore it cannot exist but between persons unlike. Nor could a State consist longer; because all Men being externally alike, would be so internally too; all would be of the same profession, and no longer seek to supply one another's mutual necessities. Now this diversity of persons proceeds from the divers mixture of the four Humours; which being never found twice tempered in the same sort, (each one having his peculiar constitution, which the Physicians call idiosyncrasy) they never produce the same person twice, nor consequently one and the same surface, or external shape, alike. If the Matter designed to constitute and nourish the bones be in too great quantity, the Man is born robust, large, and bony; if it be defective, he becomes a dwarf and a weakling. Again, this Matter, according as it carried to every bone in particular, gives a differing conformation to the same, which is also derived to the Muscles spread over those bones from which they borrow the external figure which they communicate to the skin.  
The Third said, He found two Causes of the Diversity of Countenances: One in Heaven; The other in the Heads of Women, namely, in their Imaginations. Heaven is never found twice in the same posture, by reason of the manifold Motions and Conjunctions of the Planets, and yet 'tis the Sun and Man that generate a Man; and what is said of the Sun, ought likewise to be understood of the other Celestial Bodies. It is necessary then that this variety in the Cause produce also variety in the Effect. Hence it is, that Twins have so great resemblance together, as having been conceived and born under the same Constellation. As for the Imagination, 'tis certain, that of the Mother which intervenes at the time of Conception, more powerfully determines the shape and colour of the Foetus than any other Cause; as appears by the marks which Infants bring with them from their Mother's Womb; who well remember that such things were in their Fancy, and that they had a vehement apprehension of the same. So that as many different Imaginations as Women have when they conceive, make so many Countenances and other parts of the Body different.   

II. Whether is the more noble, Man or Woman.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That in times of old there was found at Rome a Widower that had buried two and twenty Wives, and at the same time a Widow that survived her two and twentieth Husband; these two the people of Rome constrained to marry together, after which, both Men and Women awaited which of the two would die first; at length the Woman died first, and all the Men, even to the little Boys, went to her interment, every one with a branch of Laurel in his Hand, as having obtained the victory over that Sex. This Question of the nobleness and dignity of the one above the other, is of greater consequence than that other, in which not only Women very frequently get the better, there being more old women then old men, through the sundry dangers whereunto men are exposed, and from which women are exempted; but also Stags and Ravens, which live hundreds of years, much surpass either of them. But one of the greatest difficulties arising in the discussion of this Controversy, is, that there is no Judge found but is interessed in the Cause: Do not think that the determination of this Point is of little importance. For we should have none of those dismal feuds both in high and mean families, did not women go about to command over men instead of obeying them. Now whether the business be fairly arbitrated, or whether it be yielded, out of complacency to that Sex, which loves to be commanded, and out of pity its frugality and weakness; upon examination of the reasons of either side, I find it safer to suspend my judgement, that I may neither betray my own party, nor incense the other; which, they say, is not so easily reconciled as it is offended.  
The Second said, That the courtship and suing which Men use to Women, is a tacit but sufficient argument of the esteem wherein they hold them; for we do not seek after a thing which we undervalue. But the praecellence of Women above Men is principally argued from the Place, the Matter, and the Order of their Creation. For Man had not the advantage to be created in the Terrestrial Paradise, as Woman had, who also was produced out of a more noble matter than he; for he was made out of the Earth, and she out of one of the Man's ribs. And as for the Order of the Creation, God, in the production of Mixed Bodies, begun with the meanest things, and ended with the noblest. He first made the Earth and the Sea, than Plants, Fishes, and the other Brutes. After which, he created Man, as the Master of all things; and lastly, Woman, as the Masterpiece of Nature, and the Model of all Perfections, Mistress of Man, stronger than he, as the Scripture saith; and consequently Mistress of all the Creatures. Moreover, there is no sort of Goods but are found in a higher degree in Woman then in Man. For as for the Goods of the Body, the chief whereof is Beauty, Men have therein utterly lost the cause; which they will be as little able to carry in reference to the Goods of the Mind: For the same are found more vigorous, and attain sooner to maturity in Women, who, upon that account, are by the Laws adjudged Puberes at twelve years of age, and Boys not till fourteen. They commonly perform more actions of Virtue than Men; and indeed they have more need thereof, to withstand the assaults continually made upon their Chastity, which is not too often found in the other Sex. They are acknowledged by all, to be more merciful, faithful, and charitable than Men; so Devout, that the Church (which cannot err) terms them by no other name; and so patient, that God hath judged them alone worthy to carry their Children nine months in their bellies; no doubt, because Men had not Virtue and Resolution enough for that office. The Poets never feigned but one Jupiter, that was able to bear an Infant in his Body, though it were but for a few months. In fine, there is no Science or Art in which Women have not excelled; witness the two Virgins, Desroches, and de Gournai, the Vicountess of Auchi, and Juliana Morel, a Sister Jacobine of Avignon, who understands fourteen Languages; and, at Lions, maintained Theses in Philosophy at the age of thirteen years; so also of old, Diotima and Aspacia were so excellent in Philosophy, that Socrates was not ashamed to go to their public Lectures; in Astrology, Hipatia of Alexandria, the Wife of Isidore the Philosopher; in Oratory, Tullia, the Daughter, and doubly heiress of Cicero; and Cornelia, who taught Eloquence to the Gracchis her Sons; in Poetry, Sapph, the inventress of Saphick Verses; and the three Corynnae, of whom the first overcame Pindar, the Prince of Lyric Poets, five times; and in Painture, Irene and Calypso, in the days of Varro. If there have been Prophets, there have also been Prophetesses and Sibyls; yea, they were Virgins, of old, that rendered the Oracles at Delphos. In brief, if there have been warlike Men, there have been Amazon's too, who have showed that Valour is not solely Masculine. And, in our days, there have been found Maidens that have fought very courageously, whose Sex was not known till they were stripped after they had been slain in battle. But these Feminine Virtues are not so much celebrated as those of Men, by reason of the Envy which they bear to the Sex, having subjected the same to such a pass, that they are enforced to support all our defects. Though indeed, Women may say to Men as the Lion did to a Man, who showed him the picture of a Man killing a Lion; If Lions (said he) were addicted to painting, you would see more Men killed by Lions, than Lions by Men. If Women had had the making of Laws and Histories, you would see more Virtues exercised by Women then by Men.  
The Third said, That although none but Men are at the ventilating of this Controversy, yet Women ought not to allege that it is easy to commend the Athenians in the City of Athens; since God himself hath passed a Decree upon them in these words, The Woman shall be subject to the Man. And 'tis to no purpose to say, that it was otherwise before the first sin▪ and that subjection was imposed upon the Woman for a punishment; seeing the punishment of the Serpent, That he should creep upon the Earth, doth not presuppose that he had feet before he caused Man to sin by the intervention of his Wife; but indeed, God converted that into a penalty which before was natural unto him. The same aught to be said concerning the Woman, who was no less subject to the Man before then after his sin. Moreover, after God had taken the Woman out of Adam's side, (whence, they say, it comes that their heads are so hard) he did not say that she was good, as he had pronounced all the rest of his Creatures. And to get Adam to marry her, there was no other expedient found but to cast him into a sleep; no doubt, because, had he been awake, he would have been very much puzzled to resolve upon it. So that they who considering, on one side, the usefulness of that Sex for the preservation of the species of Men, and on the other, the mischiefs whereof it is the cause, have not ill determined when they termed Woman a Necessary Evil; to which Men are addicted, by natural instinct, for the general good, and to the prejudice of the particular; just as Water ascends upwards, contrary to its own nature, for the eschewing of Vacuity. Woman is an imperfect Animal, whom Plato doubted whether he should not rank amongst the irrational, and whom Aristotle terms a Monster; they who treat her most gently, style her a simple Error of Nature; which through the deficiency of natural heat, could not attain to the making of a Male. Women big with Female Children, are more discoloured, have their taste depraved, and usually lift up their left leg first, as it were for an evidence of that sinister conception. In the Old Testament they who were delivered of a Female were unclean for sixty days; but if of a Male, but thirty. The Male is fully formed in thirty days, but the Female only in forty two. The Males have life at the seventh month, but Females not till the ninth; as if Nature hid her fault as long as she could. The Females have less vigour in all their actions, because less heat; which appears in that they are never ambidextrous, as Men oftentimes are. Now, if in some species of Animals, the Females have the advantage above Males, as Tygresses, Lionesses, and She-wolves, it is in fierceness; and therein we also yield to Women. But what more competent Judge amongst Men can they find, than he who tried so many, Solomon, who inquires, Who can find a Wise Woman? And who, after he had compared them to the bottomeless pit, concludes that all wickedness is supportable, provided it be not the wickedness of a Woman; yea, that the wickedness of a Man is better than the goodness of a Woman. 
Eclesiasticus.   
The Fourth said, Every thing is esteemed according to its Author, Structure, and Composition, the means it makes use of, the manner how it employs the same, and its end. Now Man and Woman having the same Author, namely, God; and being composed almost of the same parts, it remains to inquire what means both the one and the other makes use of for attaining their end, which is Happiness. It is certain that the being either Man or Woman doth not make either of them good or bad, handsome or deformed, noble or infamous, happy or unhappy. There are found of both sorts in either Sex. As, to begin in Paradise, the eleven thousand Virgins alone show that the Feminine Sex hath as good a share therein as Men. In Thrones, Semiramis, Thomiris, many Queens and Empresses have manifested, that Women as well know how to command as Men. Judith cutting off the Head of Holofernes; and the Maid of Orleans, in the days of our Forefathers; have shown that Men alone were not courageous, and fit for Martial Achievements. In brief, there is no kind of performances, in which examples are not to be found both of Men and Women, that have acquitted themselves happily therein. In Oeconomy, or the management of a Family, if some Men are the Masters, there are found Women too that have the supremacy, and that in such sort, that the Men dare not complain. Wherefore they who seek the cause of the nobleness or abjectness of Man and Woman in the Sex, seek a cause where it is not. 'Tis not the being a Man or a Woman that makes noble or ignoble; 'tis the being an excellent Man, or an excellent Woman. For as they are mistaken who impute some Vice or Virtue to a whole Province, because to be vicious or virtuous are personal things; the same aught to be said concerning Man or Woman, who are Citizens of the whole world; either of whom taken in general hath nothing in themselves but what is very decorous, Good and perfect, and consequently very noble; as proceeding from an Author who communicated to them what perfection and nobleness was respectively requisite. If there be any defect, it proceeds from the individual person, and ought no more to be attributed to the Sex then to the Species.    

CONFERENCE XXVI.  
I. Whether it be lawful for one to commend himself. II. Of Beauty.  

I. Whether it be lawful for a Man to commend himself.  
IF things could speak, or if Men spoke always of them as is fitting, the Question would be needless; but for that neither the one nor the other are to be expected, it is reasonably demanded, whether ever it be lawful to supply this default ourselves. Three sorts of persons there are, each of a different opinion touching this Subject. The first prize and respect themselves so highly, that as one of the great Wits of these times said to a certain Author, who would have had more praise had he given himself less; They catch cold with too much speaking to themselves bareheaded. The Second, having heard that Glory is a shadow that follows those that fly it, affect blame with so palpable design, that it is plainly seen that they fall down only to be lifted up; like those brides who would not hide themselves, if they knew that they should not certainly be found out. The Third observing how odious self-praise is to all the world, never attribute any to themselves, and cannot so much as endure to hear themselves commended, accounting it no other than flattery. The first maintain, that they who say that a Man must not praise himself, establish a Maxim, to which none obey. Do not great Captains, say they, successfully animate their Soldiers by their own commendations? Doth not the expert Physician preserve his own good reputation together with the health of his Patient? Do not they who make Panegyrics for others, find their own in the same? Doth not the Excellent Preacher preach his own Doctrine and Eloquence together with the Gospel? Doth not the acute Advocate argue as well for his own reputation, as for the carrying of his Client's Cause? Then for Arts and Trades, we see he is accounted the best Tradesman that has the nimblest Tongue in commending his own wares. Moreover, he that asks an Alms by a sign, asks it no less than if he spoke; and consequently as many ways as there are to signify any thing, the same are as so many words; and although the one are vocal, and the other mute, yet they equally signify: Whence it follows that a Man is as little to blame in speaking well as in doing well. He that hangs a bush at his door doth no less say, I have Wine to sell, then if he proclaimed it. A fair Woman who exposes herself to the view of every one, and a Painter who hangs forth his pieces to sell to passengers, prize and commend themselves more then if they spoke; and yet neither is censured for so doing. In brief, as we may blame ourselves without speaking, by doing some evil action; so Men, in effect, commend themselves by performing virtuous actions. The Second, who contemn themselves incessantly, that they may be the more esteemed by others, find nothing that more removes the mask of their Hypocrisy, than the assent of others to what they say; and indeed they are no less unacceptable and tedious than the former. But the last please much more; justifying their Principle by the enumeration of all Professions, in which all that excel abhor this vanity, which is odious to all the world. War requires great deeds and few words. Humility, the prime Virtue in Divinity, cannot consist with boasting. A good Physician cannot hear the relation of his great cures without blushing; and 'tis the property of a Mountebank to publish his own Achievements in that kind. Plutarch, in an express Treatise, renders the reasons hereof. 1. Because a Man must be impudent that can commend himself, instead of being ashamed to hear his own praises. 2. Because it is injustice for a Man to give that to himself, which ought to be expected from others. And, 3. Because self-praise exercises a kind of Tyranny over the hearer, and is without effect, not obliging him to belief.  
The Second said, Two things displease us in the praise that any one gives himself. First, the seeing a Man preferred before, or at least equalised to, ourselves, whom we always account most worthy of praise. And Secondly, the seeing a Man make himself judge in his own cause. And hence arose a common Proverb, Praise hath an ill savour in a Mans own mouth. And when the Comedian would decipher the two most ridiculous personages of his Scene, Chremes and Thraso, he makes them weary the hearers with repetitions of their own commendation; which ought to have no other end but the Reward of him to whom it is given, or the exciting of others to Virtue by his example. Now it is deprived of both these effects, when it proceeds from ourselves. For that which comes from ourselves cannot be called Reward, and consequently others can draw no example from it which may excite them to Virtue. If Poets praise themselves, they are excused by the Poetical Licence which gives them permission, as well as Painters, to feign and attempt what ever they please; and yet the Prince of Poets, Virgil, never commended himself. It was not by the praise which he gave himself that Cicero acquired the title of Father of Eloquence; on the contrary, his Consulship, so often depredicated in his writings, is with some reason termed the Spot or Blemish of his works. In brief, they who commend themselves seem to fore-judge that they look not for commendation from others; either for that they deserve none, or else for that they accuse the rest of Men of ingratitude towards them. And in either case, 'tis no wonder if they be slighted and ill willed by others.  
The Third said, That he who commends himself is not to blame, provided he say nothing but what is true; because words being the images of actions, it is unjust to require a man to make the original, and then forbid him to draw copies of it, such as are the commendations which typify virtuous actions. And it seems to be the property of the vicious to bear envy against them thereupon, because they cannot attain to the same perfection; as an old woman beholds with jealousy the exquisite portrait of some young Beauty. True it is, as Alexander said, it was a great happiness for Achilles to find a Homer to commend him. But when the unhappiness or ingratitude is such, that a goodly action falls into oblivion unless it be recounted by its author, who knows it better than any other; it is not reasonable for virtue to be deprived, through such defect, of its only guerdon and aliment, which is praise. So a Father wonderfully extimulates his children to virtue by representing to them his own brave actions past. Yea it seems, that being his children have an interest in his reputation, he cannot omit the recital of what he hath done praiseworthy, without wronging them.  
The fourth upheld the same Opinion, by alleging that a wise man may commend himself without blame, since he is so impartial that he doth not consider himself as himself, but as he would do another man, whom he could not without injustice deprive of the commendation merited by him. And this is agreeable to a percept of nature, which enjoins the rendering to every one what appertains to him.  
The Fifth said, to commend one's self merely for the sake of self-praise is a vicious extremity; but sometiemes to commend one's self in another, or to make use of the relation of our own commendable actions, as an Apology to oppose to the contempt, or detraction of our enemies, is a thing not only allowable, but also practised by the most eminent and holy personages. so S. Paul finding himself despised, boasted that he was noble, and a Citizen of Rome, that he had studied much, and that God had imparted to him his highest mysteries. For in this case we are in a manner obliged to praise ourselves, by the Law of Nature, which renders our defence just. Therefore as he were a fool that should fence all alone in the open street, and a coward that should not defend himself when provoked; so he that defends himself well when he is assaulted, doth not only provide for his own safety, but gets the reputation of a man of courage, as he also doth who commends himself when he is despised. Yet I would require thus much moderation in the praise which an injury extorts from our own lips, that it extend no further than what is needful for the repelling the offered outrage. I would by no means have it affected, as it uses to be by some men, who are glad when they are blamed, for that they may take occasion to expatiate upon their own praises. For the equitable hearer is indeed on our side, yet he is tacitly disgusted with our vaunt; because men are naturally addicted to contradiction, whence their belief (the freest of all the mind's actions) is always less carried thither whither it is endeavoured to be carried with most eagerness and violence. So an honest woman shall by a grave deportment, and a single gesture of slighting, sooner quash an injurious word than another can do by a long Apology of her whole life past. Saving in this case and manner, our proper commendations are no less unacceptable than the blame which we attribute to ourselves. He that praises himself is like a painted Face set out to the sight of every one; and he that blames himself resembles a sick person that takes pride in his infirmities true or imaginary, with which himself ought to be concerned enough, not to trouble others who have nothing to do therewith.   

II. Of Beauty.  
Upon the second Point, it was said that Beauty may, with as much reason, be placld among the Transcendents, as (besides Goodness and Verity) Greatness, Duration, Power, Virtue, Knowledge, the Will, and Glory, are placed in that rank by Lullius and his Disciples. For speaking of accidents, we say a fair largeness, a goodly quality, a handsome resemblance, a graceful action, a becoming endurance or sufferance; and so of the other Categories, which result from Place, Time, and Habit. But it is particularly attributed to Substance. The Angels, Heavens, Elements and mixed Bodies, have all beauty, and so much the more as they are more perfectly mixed; as appears in Gold, Pearls and Jewels, in Flowers, Animals, and principally in Man; who again participates thereof variously according to Sex and Age. For the beauty of a man is other than that of a woman; of a child and a young man than that of an old man. Artificial things have likewise their share therein, when our eyes and judgements are pleased with their proportion, or find them conformable to the Model which the Workman propounded to himself. And as in most Sciences and Arts men have phancied to themselves Prototypes and Parallels, to serve instead of patterns and models; in Policy, an accomplished Commonwealth, such as Plato, Sir Thomas More, and some others have delineated; in Physic, a Temperament most perfect and exquisite to a grain [called temperamentum ad pondus] in Eloquence, a perfect Orator: so they who have undertaken to speak of Beauty have imagined a perfect one, which (leaving women to set down the conditions which they require in handsome men) we will make to consist, as to them, in thirty one particulars, which go to the making up of a handsome woman. The 1. of those Points is Youth, which renders even the coursest animals agreeable. The 2. is a Stature neither too large nor too small. 3. A middle size of corpulency; because too fat or too lean are counted amongst imperfections. 4. Symmetry and proportion of all the parts. 5. Long, fair, and fine hair. 6. A skin soft and smooth, through which appear small veins. 7. A lively whiteness of Lilies blended with Roses. 8. A smooth forehead, pleasingly arched, and always serene. 9 Temples not hollow. 10. Two black lines arch-wise, in stead of Eyebrows. Two blue eyes well set in the head, well opened and fixed with a sweet glance. 12. A nose well shaped and rightly set on. 13. Cheeks a little rounded, making a dimple. 14. A graceful smile. 15. Two lips of Coral. 16. A little mouth. 17. Small Pearls smooth and well ajusted in stead of teeth. 18. A sweet breath. 19 A well tuned voice. 20. A chin dimpled, somewhat round and fleshy. 21. Ears small, ruddy, and well joined to the head. 22. A neck of Ivory. 23. A bosom of Alabaster. 24. Two snowballs. 25. A hand white, something long and plump. 26. Fingers ending by little in a Pyramid. 27. Nails of mother of Pearl turned into an oval. 28. A gesture free and not affected. 29. Soft and smooth flesh. 30. A modest gate. The last point may be more easily imagined then honestly named.  
The second said, that Beauty hath no more but an imaginary Being, or, at least, is more in the fancy then in Nature. Which they acknowledge who set conditions for it never to be found in any subject whatever. Moreover, every real Entity, if it fall under the cognisance of the Senses, is conceived in the same manner by all people in the earth, when the Organ is not hurt, the medium alike, and the distance equal, and all other circumstances are found the same. Thus Honey is every where acknowledged by the same sweetness, and the Sun by the same light. But one and the same Beauty is not conceived in the same fashion, nor esteemed such by all the people of the world; for the judgements thereof are found different, not only according to the diversity of Nations, but also in reference to the same people, yea the same person, at several times. Our ancient Gauls wore large foreheads, because in those days they accounted the same handsomest, and we see also to this day old Pictures representing handsome women in that sort; whence arose the reproachful word, Effrons, Frontless, denoting one that hath no forehead or shame. At this day women think they cannot have too little, they take so much pains to hide the same with their head-tire, and men, after their example. Much hair is at present recommendable in many places, especially in France. The handsomest of the Pagan Deities was called Intonsus Apollo: And the Scripture principally sets forth the beauty of women by their long hair, without which the comeliest would be terrible. Nevertheless, in the latter ages in France, 'twas a shameful thing for men to have much hair. In New France, the greatest past of the people wear no hair but on one side. The women of Camboya cut off theirs close to their ears. The Perusians have none but a lock on the top of the head; and the Romans of old adored Venus Calva: Our Lady's shape their Eyebrows into arches. The Africans paint theirs into the figure of a Triangle. Some, like an Aquiline and rising Nose; yet the flattest are counted most graceful amongst the Abyssines. Here eyes pretty prominent and of a middle size are esteemed; in China little eyes are most prized. The Lybians love a large mouth, and lips turned backwards; here little ones are the most commendable. 'Tis one of the most agreeable parts that our Ladies show; and yet the Arabians, esteeming the same indecorous, cover it as carefully as their backside. The Japonnois black their teeth; and every where else the whitest are most valued. Our Virgins straighten their bosoms the most they can; on the contrary, the Aethiopian women account those the most graceful breasts which they can cast over their shoulders. Youth is elsewhere loved; yet in the West Indies the oldest women are the handsomest. In Aethiopia and many other places the blackest are counted the handsomest; and in painting a Devil they make him all white, as we do black. In brief, there is not one of the assigned Characters of Beauty which is not controverted by some Nation; and therefore there is no reality in it, but it depends upon our Fancy, as Fashions do. What is beauty then? 'Tis (in my judgements) what pleases us. For whatever deformity or defect there be in the thing we love, yet we account it handsome: Et quae Balbinum delectat Polypus Agnae.  
The third said, 'Tis too great a disparagement to the Goods of Nature, to say that Beauty, which is the most excellent of them, is only imaginary; its admirable effects being such that it persuades whatever it pleases; 'tis the surest commendatory Letter, and hath influence not only upon rational souls, but even Elephants are transported with joy (as Aelian saith) when they meet a fair woman. And reason tells us that every thing which is goodly is good; because it is desirable, which is the essential qualification of good things. The beauty of the body is not only the token of that of the soul, which seems to be ill lodged, when it is found in an ugly body, but 'tis also a sign of the body's health and good constitution. Yea the very beholding of Beauty conduceth to health, and continues it; whence it is that handsome Nurses and Governesses are assigned to Children; because the soul even from the cradle (being a Foreigner and retaining in itself the idea of its Creator's beauty) is marvellously pleased at the sight of every thing that approaches that beauty and harmony, and rejoices at its meeting, acknowledging it her kindred and alley. Moreover, Plato saith, that Beauty is produced when the Form predominates over the Matter, which is of itself foul and deformed. Which he affirmeth to have place also in the beauty of the soul; which he makes to consist in the advantage of the Intellectual part, which holdeth the place of Form in man, over the Sensitive, which correspondeth to Matter. Aristotle will not allow it possible for Felicity to be perfect without the beauty of the Body, which hath sometimes conferred the Sceptre in elective Kingdoms. And our Saviour, amidst all the infirmities of our nature, caused to shine in himself the most perfect beauty that ever was in the rest of mankind. Now several beautiful things gratify variously. White is esteemed amongst Northern Nations, because there issues out of white bodies a certain brightness or light agreeable to the eyes of those people. But the same colour loseth that pre-eminence proportionably to a nearer approach toward the South.    

CONFERENCE XXVII.  
I. Whether the World grows old. II. Of Jealousy.  

I. Whether the World grows old.  
WEre we in those Commonwealths where the voice of the people is admitted, this Question would be very easy to resolve; there being no body but proclaims that the world is declining, and thinks that we are now in the very dregs of Time. 'Tis the ordinary discourse of old men. But possibly herein they resemble the old woman, who when she was grown blind, said the Sky was overcast; or those who sailing from the shore think that the earth retreats back, while 'tis themselves that are in motion. These good people no longer finding the same gust and pleasure in the delights of the world, that they found in their youth, lay the fault upon the world instead of imputing the same to themselves. Indeed their accusation is too old to be receivable, having been from all time, which made Horace say, that to represent an old man right, he must be introduced praising the time past. Yet we may give their reasons the hearing. They affirm that every thing which hath had a beginning, and must have an end, grows old. That since all the parts of the world are variously corrupted, the same aught to be believed of the whole. That as for the Heavens, all the observations of Ptolemy are found at this day false, unless they be rectified by the addition of certain motions of Trepidation which cause all the rest to vary. In the Air, the inconstancy of it, and the irregularity of the Seasons makes us not know when we are sure of any; the Spring sometimes appearing in Winter (as at present) and Winter in Autumn. In the Sea, you see it dismembers Provinces, gains and loses whole Countries by its inundations and recessions. And as for the Earth, it is very probably shown that in time it must naturally return to its first state in which it was all covered with water, and consequently void of men and most part of animals and plants, which make the three noblest parts of the Universe. For they who endeavour the raising of low grounds know that the same is accomplished by giving entrance to the slime which the water brings thither, and which gathers together at the bottom; whence it comes to pass that Valleys through which torrents and brooks of rain-water pass, grow hollower daily; the impetuousness of the water sweeping the surface of the earth into rivers, and thence into the Sea. Wherefore though the world should not end by Conflagration, as it must do; since all the rain-waters, those of rivers and brooks go into the Sea, and carry thither with them the upper parts of the Earth, which is that that makes the waters so troubled and muddy, it is necessary that this earth in time fill up the cavities of the Sea, and reduce it to exact roundness; and then the water having no longer any channel must as necessarily cover the whole surface of the earth, excepting perhaps some points of rocks, which will decay and fall down in time, as about fifteen years ago a mountain in Suizzerland by its fall crushed under its ruins the Town of Pleurs, 
Sign. Weeping.  which by that means made good the importance of its name. And although this may not come to pass till after divers thousands of years if the world should last so long, yet it is not the less feasible, since it is a doing at the present, though by little and little.  
The second said, That since the end of the world is to be supernatural, it shall not proceed from old age; that though the earth were all covered over with waters, yet the world would not perish for all that, since the Elements would subsist; yea the same earth and the winds by succession of time would come to imbibe and dry up those waters, and so again discover the face of the earth. That if one of the Elements be diminished, another increases; if the water evaporate, the air is augmented; if the air be condensed, it adds to the water, and so the world cannot fail by all the alterations and changes which happen in simple and mixed bodies. For its order consists in the alternative succession of various dispositions (and not in one sole disposition) like a circle which being finite in its parts is infinite in its whole. Moreover, if the world perish, it must be either by the annihilation of its whole, or of its parts; or else by their transmutation into some matter which cannot be part of the world. Not the first; for there needs no less a miracle to annihilate then to create; and therefore nothing is annihilated. Not the second; for mixed bodies cannot be changed but either into other mixed bodies or into the Elements; now these are transmuted one into another; wherefore in either case they are still parts of the world. The most active of the Elements, Fire, without the miracle of the last conflagration, if you consider it in the Sphere which some have assigned to it, it cannot burn the rest; for should it act in its own Sphere, which it doth not, it would at length be extinguished for want of air, into which consequently part of it would be converted: or if you place it in the subterranean parts, the vapours and the exhalations which it would raise from the Sea and the Earth, being resolved into water and air, would always preserve the being of those Elements. Moreover, the world would not serve at the day of judgement (as Philo the Jew saith) for a Holocaust to its author, if it were then found defective in any of its parts.  
The third said, If you take the world for all the inferior bodies contained under the concave of the Moon, it is certain that it changeth. For the Heavens are not altered according to their substance, though they be according to their places. But it is impossible that the Elements acting so powerfully one against another by their contrary qualities be not at length weakened, and their activities refracted and impaired, and particularly the earth wherein those subterranean fires do the same thing that natural heat doth in animals when by the consumption of their radical humidity it makes them grow dry and old. External Agents (as the Air, and the Celestial Bodies, which in time undermine Palaces of Marble, Brass and other bodies) contribute greatly to this alteration of the earth, which is the mark and but of actions of the superior bodies, by whom it suffers incessantly. This declination is observed in Plants, which had greater virtues in times past than they have at the present (as it is found, amongst others, in that Antidote made of tops of Rue, a Nut and a Fig, wherewith Mithridates preserved himself from all poisons, and which is now out of credit) but much more in man then other animals. For besides the diminution which befalls him as a mixed body, because he draws his nourishment from the substance of plants and animals, he hath besides in himself a double ground of this decay of his strength, every thing partaking of nature and its food. Hence it is that we are much more short-lived than our fathers of old, who in the flower of the world's age (to speak with Plato, who makes it an animal) lived almost a thousand years; and since the Deluge by the corruption which its waters overflowing the earth caused in the whole Universe, they lived six hundred years, but at present few attain to eighty: Nor do we see any Giants now a days, though they were very frequent in old time. Men's minds likewise have a great share of this deterioration, in the exercise of virtues and arts. Besides, that there was never so great a multitude of Laws and Ordinances, which are certain evidence of the depravation of manners.  
The fourth said, Besides that 'tis dubious whether the years of our first Fathers were of equal length with ours, the cause of their long life may be attributed to a special privilege of God, to the end they might by their long experience invent Arts and Sciences, and people the world. Moreover, 'tis above 4000 years since the term of 70 and 80 years became the common standard of humane life. Our age is not more corrupted than the first, made infamous by Fratricides, Sodomites, Incests, Treasons, and such other enormous sins, so much the more detestable in that they had no example of them, as their posterity hath had since. And as for the inferior bodies, since their actions are at present altogether the same with what they performed in the beginning of the world; the Fire (for example) not burning less, nor the Water cooling less, then in Adam's time; it must be concluded that they are not changed, but remain always in the same state.  
The Fifth said, That as in the Microcosm we may judge of the corruption of the Body by the least alteration of its parts, and foretell its death by the disorder observed in the most noble; so we may make the like Judgement in the Maerocosme, in which we see no Mixed Bodies, but what are corruptible. For things are no longer than they act, action being the measure of their being. And therefore seeing nothing can act perpetually, because the virtue of every thing is bounded and finite, nothing can be perpetual. As Knives, and the like instruments, are blunted with much cutting; so the qualities incessantly acting must of necessity be weakened, and at length become impotent. But the surest sign of the world's corruption is the annihilation of corporeal forms, the noblest parts of the universe. For as for spiritual forms, when they are separated from the Body they are no longer considered as parts of the world.  
The Sixth confirmed this opinion by the abundance of new diseases sprang up in these last Ages, and unknown to the preceding; as the Neapolitan Malady, the Scurvy, and sundry others, which cannot proceed but from the corruption of Humours and Tempers, and this from that of the Elements.  
The Seventh said, That the world is so far from growing worse, that on the contrary it becomes more perfect; as 'tis proper to things created from a small beginning, to increase, and at length attain their perfection; which the world having attained doth not decline, because it is not an organised body, whose property it is to do so after it hath attained its State. This is visible in Metals, and particularly in Gold, which the longer they remain in the Earth the more concoction and perfection they acquire. Moreover, the Wits of Men are more refined then ever. For what could be more ignorant than the Age of our first Parents, for whom God himself was fain to make Clothes; those of their own making being only fig-leaves. In the Ages following, you see nothing so gross as what was then accounted the highest degree of subtlety, as the Learning of the Rabbins among the Jews, and the Druids among the Gauls; the best skilled of whom might come to school to our Bachelors. But their gross ignorance in Handicrafts appears, amongst others, in our Flowers de Luce, the figure whereof, stamped on their Coin, resembles any thing rather than a Flower de Luce.   

II. Of Jealousy.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That Jealousy is very hard to be defined. If you rank it under the Genius of Fear, how comes it to make Rivals so venturous in attempting and executing? If 'tis a sort of Anger and Indignation, whence does it make them so pale? If you assign this Passion to Man alone, how does it metamorphose them into beasts? taking from them all exercise of reason. If you admit it in beasts too, how does it render Men so ingenious? I think they should speak best who should term it a Rage, since the most Tragical Histories are fullest of its actions. Yet you shall meet with some that make a laughter of it; and if a Mistress changes them, they also change their Mistress; who when they are married always knock at the door though it be wide open, for fear of finding what they do not seek: Whereas others are jealous even of the sheets of their own bed. Let us therefore rank it amongst the capricious Passions; or rather let us do like the Physicians, who having given names to all the Veins and Bones, term some (which they know not how to call otherwise) Innominate and sine pari. So this Passion shall be the nameless and peerless Passion.  
The Second said, This Passion seemed to depend on the Climates, Northern people being very little subject to it; whereas they of the South cannot hear Mass or Sermon, unless there be a wall between the Men and the Women. And Bodin saith, 'twas one of the things which Mendoza (Gondamor) the Spanish Ambassador wondered at most in France and England, why Men went with Women into Churches. Likewise, Caesar saith of the English, that twelve of them were contented with one Woman, and agreed peaceably; whereas the Indians and Africans have troops of Wives; and yet Puna King of the Indians did not think his secure amongst his Eunuches, till he had disfigured them, and cut off their Arms.  
The Third said, that Jealousy may be compared to the Syrian Cow, of whom the Proverb saith, that indeed she filled the pail with her Milk, but presently overturned it with a kick. It gives Love, and it gives Ruin. And yet this Passion is so inseparable, and so necessarily a companion of Love, that it does the same office to it which the bellows do to the furnace which it kindles. For imagine a friendship in which there is no fear of Rivals, it will soon be extinguished, because the possession is accounted sure; and our affection is not carried violently, but where it finds resistance.  
The Fourth said, Jealousy is a fear lest another enjoy the Good which we challenge or possess. 'Tis the more dangerous in that it puts on the mask of Love, whereof nevertheless it partakes but little. The Poets represent Love to us like a Child full of joy and liberty; whereas Jealousy resembles an old, sullen, and distrustful Woman. Love proceeds from knowledge, (for we desire not things unknown) on the contrary, Jealousy, being a distrust either of ourselves or the thing loved, or of both, presupposes a deficiency of knowledge, and consequently of Love. Whence Women having less knowledge than Men, are likewise more ready to entertain this Passion; and sometimes to such a degree, that those of the Isle of Lemnos killed all their Husbands upon it, excepting one.  
The Fifth said, Jealousy is a sort of Indignation against one who intrencheth upon the honour which we account particularly due to ourselves, or some other whom we love. Thus God is jealous of his glory, and good people likewise of the same. Brethren are jealous of their Father's Love. Those who seek the same office are jealous one of another. Rivals are so of the favours of their Mistresses. The first kind of Jealousy proceeds from the good opinion which every one hath of himself, of being more capable than any other, and better answering to the merits of the thing beloved. And although it presupposeth Love, yet many times 'tis changed into Hatred, as Choler into Melancholy. In its beginning it makes use of Anger and Revenge; if it continue, of Sadness and Discontent; and afterwards of Fear, which sometimes tends to Despair.  
The Sixth said, That this Passion was a Grief for that another invades what is ours. For Grief, as the other Passions, changes its name according as it is determined and restrained to a particular object. It serves to preserve and increase Love, and therefore is not absolutely to be decried. It enkindles in us a desire to please, for fear the person loved prefer another, in whom appears more perfection, before us. In some cases a Man shall deserve the name of Paltron if he shows not Jealousy; since Justice allows not that what belongs to one should be common; for what is every body's is no body's. Wherefore only excessive Jealousy is unblamable, being a mixture of many Passions, and the strongest and most violent affection that can seize upon the Mind, which it leaves no longer master of itself. It infuses distrusts and suspicions, and consequently to these, most inquieting curiosities to know the truth of what it seeks, but would not find; and which being found produces insupportable torments. The ill opinion which the Jealous hath of the person whom he pretends to Love causes him to misinterpret its best actions. Thus disturbed Waters never represent well the species of Objects which they receive; and Eyes distempered with a suffusion judge things to be of the same colour wherewith themselves are tinctured.  
The Seventh said, That Love is not of the nature of those Goods which the more they are communicated the more excellent they are; But 'tis a Union of Wills, and so loses its name when divided; as the Sunbeams being dispersed are weak, but burn when reunited by a Burning-glass. Jealousy, which is the fear of dis-union, springs from the merits of the thing beloved, and from a suspicion lest its perfection attract others besides ourselves, to love it; especially when we acknowledge less of merit in ourselves then in our Rivals, knowing that the most perfect things are most loved.    

CONFERENCE XXVIII.  
I. What is the greatest Delight of Man. II. Of Cuckoldry.  

I. What is the greatest Delight of Man.  
THe Rejoices of this Season seem to have been appointed at the end of Winter, and entrance of Lent, two times equally sad, though upon different accounts; the one Natural, and the other Canonical. Because Joy is destinated to dilate the Trees, which Sadness shuts up. 'Tis caused several ways. For nothing is pleasing but according to the correspondence which it hath to our Fancy; as Pictures and Music delight not but by the proportion which they have with the Sight and Hearing. Whence of the two Painters who contended together about the excellence of their skill, he carried the prize who before he set to his work took heed to the place from whence it was to be seen. Now the fancies and opinions of Men being so different, it is hard to know what is the greatest Joy, considering that the same thing may have correspondence to the Imagination of one, and repugnance to that of another. If a Musician delights you, you should but ill requite him if you took his instrument and played him a lesson; 'tis Money which rejoices him. He who could not drink his Wine, how excellent soever, unless it were carried to him to the Tavern, would have accounted all other delight empty without it. They who at present enjoy their Liberty in the Seaports, show sufficiently what pleasure they take in play. In brief, as many different humours and inclinations as there are, so different will the judgements be upon this question: For even amongst those who place delight in Meats, you will scarce find three together whose Appetites agree. Besides, that who so would judge aright in the case must have tasted of all sorts of delights; yea, of each in its full extent, and with all its conditions requisite.  
The Second said, Delight seems to be the repeated sense of some joy, such as is seen in public and solemn jollities; as heretofore in the Lupercalia and Saturnalia of the Romans, and now in our Carnival. Now Joy is a Passion so loved and cherished by Man, that we may thereby judge of its value. For as some Men are curious of rarities in Ebeny, others of Sea-shells, some of Antiquities of Marble, Flowers and Pictures, but all generally desire Gold, and like it well; so you see some valiant; others, studious; others, amorous; many, Sons of the bottle; briefly, this addicted to one action, and he to another; but you see none but loves Joy, what ever show they make; and those pretended Cato's, each wrinkle of whose Faces is an obelisk, every word a censure, yet become tickled within themselves at the occurrence of pleasant objects, notwithstanding the blame which they seem to lay upon them: Like those Stoics who durst not sit down to Dinner, for fear it should be believed that they took Pleasure in it, and nevertheless liked the Wine as well as others. Observe how Children, even from the cradle, caresse with their Head and Hands those that make Mirth, and decline the sour and severe. Nor is the fear of Correction sufficient to keep them from running after all pleasant objects, which they will invent among themselves rather then want. Old men, as they most need, so they receive the greatest benefit from it; in this (perhaps) more unhappy than others, that having more knowledge by experience of what is passed, it is harder to delight them; Pleasure most easily arising from novelty. Since therefore all sorts of conditions and ages sacrifice to Joy, and Philosophers have judged nothing more proper to Man then Laughter; I conceive, 'tis a kind of inhumanity to forbid commerce to this inseparable companion of Man; and although some may abuse it, yet it would be worse to interdict it, then to take away the use of Wine under pretext that some people sometimes take too much of it.  
The Third said, Some contentments belong to the Mind, others to the Body. Not that the Body is capable of any Passion without the Minds help; nor that the Soul, while it informs the Body, can apprehend any without its corporeal organs: but they borrow their name from the part which they chiefly affect. Thus, I can neither love nor hate, without having seen or heard the subject of my hatred or love; and yet 'tis the Soul, not the Body, which loves or hates: The Body can neither drink nor eat without the Soul, and nevertheless 'tis not the Soul that drinks or eats, 'tis the Body. This supposed, methinks, the greatest delight of the humane Mind consists in being loved, and this is the end of all its actions. Whence those words, Let Men hate me, provided they fear me, 
Oderint dum mutuant.  were taken to be rather the voice of a savage beast then of a Man. This appears, because all from the highest to the lowest, endeavour to gain the goodwill of every one. 'Tis this which makes Men so desirous of Praise, because the same renders them amiable; one for the excellence of his Mind, another for the beauty of his Body. Moreover, compare the misery of a Timon hated by all the world, with the contentment of a Titus, Vespasian's Son, surnamed the Delight of Mankind; and you will see that to be loved surpasses all the Pleasures of the world, as much, as 'tis unpleasing to be hated. For the love which is borne towards us supposes some perfection in us, which being known, esteemed, and preferred above that of others, produceth the great contentments which we find therein. But as for those of the Body, Pani and all Greece too well found the ill consequence of adjudging the golden apple to the Goddess, whom Luxury made him prefer before the others, to encourage us to follow his example. Demosthenes had reason when he refused to buy at too dear a rate the repentance which ordinarily follows this Pleasure; the corners which it seeks, and the shame which accompanies it, together with its little duration, allow it not to be equalled with other Passions compatible with Honour, and practised in the sight of all the world; as feasts, dances, shows, sports, merry words, and the like, all which, I conceive, aught to be added together to make perfect Delight. But since 'tis requisite to prefer one, and punctually satisfy the question, I shall affirm, according to the liberty allowed in this company, that nothing seems to me more capable to delight a Man then Good Cheer; there's no better friendship then that which is acquired by cracking the glass; friendships proceeding from sympathy of humours, and this from the same viands. And, in brief, if this receipt did not serve better to exhilarate Men then any other, you should not see it so diligently practised in these days by all the world. Alexander the Great, and the Famous Marius, took no greater pleasure than in drinking great draughts. And the tediously-severe humour of the Cato's was not sweetened but at the table, where they ordinarily continued seven or eight hours. Moreover, Old-age, which we ought to follow for its great experience, after having passed through all the pleasures of life, fixes at last upon that of the Table, as the surest and most lasting; others sliding away so fast, that they give not our Senses time to taste them, (which word testifies that 'tis the Taste which ought to judge.) And if it be said that their bodies are not capable of other contentments, I answer, that the Organs of all the faculties are in them equally debilitated.   

II. Of Cuckoldry  
Upon the Second Point, it was said, That to judge well of it, it is requisite to understand all the cases which make Men Cuckolds. Some are so, and know nothing of it. Some think they are, but are not; and these are more miserable than if they were, and knew it not. If we believe Histories, some are so without their Wife's fault, who have mistaken others for their own Husbands. Some are so, and half see it, yet believe nothing of it, by reason of the good opinion which they have of their Wives. Further, some know they are so, but do all they can to hinder it. Such was P. Cornelius, and Corn. Tacitus. In fine, some know it and suffer it, not being able to hinder it; And I account these alone infamous.  
The Second said, That the word Cuckold, derived from Cuckoo, is Ironically used; for this Bird lays her eggs in the nest of others; or else, because they who frequent other men's Wives are oftentimes served in the same manner; or else for the reason upon which Pliny saith Vinedressers were anciently called Cuckoos, (that is to say, slothful) who deferred cutting their Vines till the Cuckoo began to sing, which was a fortnight later than the right time: And thus the same name may have been given to those who by their negligence or sloth give their Wives so much liberty that they abuse it. Unless we had rather say, that this Bird, being (as Aristotle saith) cold and moist of its own nature, and yet so prudent, as knowing itself unable to defend and feed its own young, it puts them into the nests of other Birds, who nourish them as if they were their own; thus timorous, soft and weak Men, have been called Cuckolds, because not being able to support their own families, they cause the same to be maintained by others with the loss of their credit. They who derive it from the Greek word Coccyx, which signifies the rump, are not much out of the way. In brief, some go so far as to derive it from the Latin word Coquus, because those people lodging and feeding their Wives, and taking care of their Children, do like Cooks who trust out victuals to others.  
The Third said, That Cuckoldry was but an imaginary thing; that the unchastity of the Wife could not dishonour the Husband, considering that what is out of us and our power does not any ways concern us; and it being impossible for the wisest Man in the world, by the consent of all, to hinder the lubricity of an incontinent Woman. Now no body is obliged to what is impossible; and as a vicious action ought to be only imputed to its author, so ought the shame and dishonour which follows it; and 'tis as absurd to reflect it upon him who contributed not at all to the crime, as 'tis to ascribe the glory of a virtuous action to him who not only did nothing towards it, but withstood it as much as he could. The Lawyers hold that a Contract made in secret, and without calling all the parties who have interest in it, cannot prejudice them; so neither can what Wives do without privity of their Husbands be any thing to their prejudice. Besides, if the dishonour were real, it would be so every where, and to all Men; but there are whole Nations who account not themselves dishonoured by the business. The Abyssines take it not ill that their High Priest lies with their Wives on the marriage-night, to purify them. The people of the East Indies permit the enjoyment of their Wives to those who give them an Elephant, being proud of having a Wife valued at so high a price. The Romans, though the most honourable of their time, were so little solicitous what their Wives did in their absence, that returning out of the Country, they always used to send some body to advertise them of their arrival; so afraid they were to surprise them. And indeed, Pompey, Caesar, Augustus, Lucullus, Cato, and many other great personages, were not the less esteemed for having the Bull's feather given them by their Wives.  
The Fourth said, Horns are not always imaginary, since Histories assures us that they have really gored some persons, as M. Benutius Cippus, Praetor of Rome; the Ignominy likewise of them is real, and to say otherwise, is to go against the common opinion. For since Honour is in him who honours, not in him who is honoured; (the reason of contraries being alike) dishonour shall consequently come from him who dishonours. Now 'tis certain, most agree in this that Cuckolds are derided, though they know nothing of it. For as true honour may be given to one who deserves it not; so may he be really dishonoured who deserves nothing less. A good man publicly punished is truly dishonoured, though he be innocent; for 'tis requisite that the Sovereign Courts take away the infamy which he has incurred. A Virgin unwillingly deflowered is yet dishonoured by it; and the vicious deportments and ignominious deaths of men derive shame to their relations. Much more, therefore, shall the shame attending the disgraceful lightness of a wife reflect upon her husband; for being two in one flesh, that which touches one touches the other also, the innocence of the husbands (who are also usually styled good) remaining entire. So that one may be dishonoured and yet be virtuous; as also a Cuckold and an honest man together.  
5. The Fifth said, That he counted it strange that Horns were the sign of infamy and ignominy in Marriage; considering that otherwise they were always badges of grandeur and power. When one dreams that Horns are upon his forehead, 'tis always a presage of dignity. Thus, at the birth of Cl. Albinus, a Cow of his Father's having brought forth a Calf with two red Horns, the Augurs foretold the Empire to him; which accordingly came to pass. And to honour those horns which had been the omen of his grandeur, he caused them to be hung up in Apollo's Temple. The Majesty of Jupiter Hammon, Bacchus and Pan, is represented by horns. Plenty also is signified by a horn filled with all sort of fruits.  
The Sixth said, Though every one's honesty and virtue depend on himself and not on the actions of another; yet the point of his honour and esteem is drawn from divers circumstance and conditions of things nearly pertaining to him; which the tyranny of common or rather fantastic opinion have established as marks either to raise or blemish the lustre of his reputation. Hence we value those most who are descended of an illustrious Family, though they have no other mark of it but the name. Because, to speak after the common rate, our happiness or infelicity, and the complete degree of our reputation, are the effects or consequents of what we call ours. Now our Kindred are not only ours, but are accounted to be our own blood, and our other selves; and wives are not only so much to their husbands, or part of them, but they are the half of whatever they are. But if a part resent alteration by the affection of a part, 'tis impossible but the one half must be infected with the ignominious impudicity wherewith the other is contaminated. 'Tis true, all crimes ought to be personal; but because men have mistakingly placed their happiness in external things (instead of establishing it in virtue which they ought to have in themselves) 'tis not to be wondered if having made the principal of the accessary, they bear the punishment of so doing. Besides, for chastisement of this folly, their felicity is never perfect, because they constitute it in that which is without their own power. Let it not be said, that since women derive all their lustre and splendour from their husbands, they cannot either increase or diminish the same; for the Moon receives all its light from the Sun, nevertheless when she is ill disposed, or looks with a bad aspect, or is in conjunction with him in the Nodes, and especially when she is applied to some infortunate Planet, she covers his face with darkness and clouds, at least to our view, though indeed he loses nothing of his clearness or light. A comparison the more suitable to a woman of bad life, in that the one and the other shine and rejoice most at distance from him of whom they receive their light, and in that they do not approach near him but to make horns; and lastly, in that they are never so sad as when they are with him. In brief, a Cuckold cannot avoid blame, either of defect of judgement in having made so bad a choice, or of indiscretion, weakness and want of authority, in not being able to regulate the deportment of his inferior; or else of little wit in not discovering her artifices to remedy the same. And should he always avoid them, yet he will still have the name of unhappy; and in the Age we now live in, unhappiness or misery draw shame and contempt along with them.    

CONFERENCE XXIX.  
I. Whence the saltness of the Sea proceeds? II. Which is the best Food, Flesh or Fish.  

I. Whence the Saltness of the Sea proceeds.  
ALthough the water and other Elements were in the beginning created in their natural purity, and without mixture of any foreign quality, such as saltness is to the water, which covering the whole surface of the earth would have made the same as barren as the Sea shores, yet it seems that in the separation of things, every one going its several way, God assigned its peculiar qualities not only for its own preservation, but for the general benefit. Thus the water being retired into the Ocean received saltness, lest that great humid body, coming to be heated by the Sun, might putrify (its flux and reflx, and its motion much slower than that of rivers, not being sufficient alone to hinder it) if the salt did not preserve it from corruption, as it doth all other things; and to the end that its waters being salt, and by that means more terrene and thick, might bear not only Whales and other Fishes of enormous bigness, but also the great Ships necessary for the commerce of distant Climates, and the mutual transportation of commodities wherewith each Country abounds; whereby the life of men is rendered far more delightful. For experience teaches that an egg will swim in a Vessel of water sufficiently salted, but sink in fresh. And the Surgeons have no surer way than this, to know whether the Lixivium (or Lee) wherewith they make their potential Cauteries, be strong enough. Now the Ocean imparts its saltness to all Seas which have communication with it. Whence the Caspian Sea is fresh, because 'tis separated from it. And 'tis no more strange that saltness is natural to the Sea, then that many other bodies, amongst Plants and Minerals, have a measure of it. The earth is almost every where salt, as appears by Saltpetre, Vitriol, Alum, and other kinds of Salt, which are drawn out of pits little deeper than the surface and crust of the earth, which is incessantly washed and tempered with water. And amongst Plants, Sage, Fearn, and many other, taste of salt, which being augmented turns into the bitterness and acrimony which is found in Wormwood, Spurge, and many other Herbs: all which, yea every other body, partake thereof more or less, as Chemical operations manifest.  
The Second said, Being we are not to recur to supernatural causes unless natural fail us, methinks 'tis more fit to refer the Sea's saltness to some natural cause then to the first creation, or to the will of the Creator. I conceive, therefore, that the cause of this Saltness is the Sun, who burning the surface of the earth leaves, as 'twere, hot and dry ashes upon it, which by rain are carried into the rivers, and thence into the Sea. Besides, the Sun elevating continually from the Sea by its heat the freshest parts of it, as being the lightest and nearest the nature of air, the more terrestrial and salt remain in the bottom: or else the Sea-waters gliding through the bowels of the earth, to maintain springs, leave thicker parts, as those dry and acid ashes behind, which by their mixture produce this saltness and bitterness in the Sea. Nor is it to be wondered that the heavenly bodies draw so great a quantity of waters out of the Sea; for though the Vessel be very large, yet is the heat of the Sun able to heat it, since it reaches so deep as to concoct Metals in the entrails of the earth. And if it were not thus, all the rivers disgorging themselves into the sea, it would long ago have overflown the earth. But to know how nature makes the saltness of the Sea, let us see by what artifice Salt is made in our Pits. 'Tis made by the same activity of the Sun which draws up the sweet parts of the water and condenseth the salt. Whereby it appears that it is but a further progress of the first action of the same Sun, who disposed the Sea-water to become the matter of such Salt.  
The Third said, A thing may become salt two ways; either by separation of the sweetest and subtlest parts, and leaving only the earthy, which come near the nature of salt; or else by mixture of some other body, either actually or potentially salt. The Sea acquires saltness by both these ways. For (first) it hath two sorts of water, the one subtle and light, the other thick and terrestrial; after the Sun hath drawn up in vapour the more subtle of these waters, and by its continual heat concocted the thick and terrene remainder, which having not been able to ascend by reason of its ponderosity, remains on the upper part of the water, and gives it that saltness; which is again removed when the sea-water being strained and filtered through the earth, or by other ways (formerly mentioned in this Company, in discourse concerning the original of waters) comes forth in springs and rivers; which no longer retain the nature of their source, because they bring not along with them the earthy part, in which the saltness consists. Now that the salt part is more gross than the fresh, appears, in that the former becomes thick, and the latter not. Thus, the freshest things become salt by the fire, whose heat separates the subtle parts from the thick. As for the second way, as the waters carry with them the qualities of places through which they pass (whence they are mineral, or metallic) and as in a Lixivium, fresh water passing through ashes becomes salt; so the sea-waters acquire and increase their saltness by mixture of salt bodies, such as are the Hills of salt (as Cardan holds) which are produced anew, like Sulphur and Bitumen in burning Mountains. Now this saltness is caused either by rains full of mineral spirits which abound in acrimony; or by the cinereous parts of the earth scorched by the Sun; or lastly, as things passed through the fire taste always of an Empyreuma (or turning-to) so the subterranean fires, likely to be as well in the bottom as in the middle and borders of the Sea (as they are ordinarily) impart bitterness and saltness to it. For as for those who say 'tis nothing else but the sweat of the earth, they speak (saith Aristotle) more like Poets than Philosophers. And this metaphor is more proper to explain the thing then show its true cause.  
The Fourth said, That all secrets consisting in the salt (if we believe the Chemists) 'tis not to be wondered if it be difficult to find the cause of it; it being the property of secrets to be hid. And to practise the Rule which enjoins to credit every expert person in his own Art, I shall for this time be contented with this reason, drawn from their Art: They hold the Salt to be the balsam of nature, the connecter of the body with the spirit (for they allot spirits to all bodies) so that every body lasts more or less according to the salt which it hath, and the salt in like manner remains longer or shorter according as it is fixed or volatile. This being premised, I should think that this great compounded body, the World, needing a great quantity of Salt, answerable to its vast bulk, Nature could not find any other sufficient receptacle for it but the Ocean.   

II. Whether is the better Flesh or Fish.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, The word Best is taken, at the table and amongst food, with reference to the Taste: in Physic, for most healthful or wholesome: In Divinity, for, most conducible to salvation, and proper to the soul: In Policy, for, most commodious to the public. For as the word good is a Transcendent, passing through all the Categories of substances and accidents, its comparatives also do the like. Leaving to Divines the considerations which pertain to them in this matters, in which they are much puzzled to apply a Rule to so many different Climates, Seasons and Persons; we may here make comparison of Flesh and Fish in the other three Cases; In regard of the state, of Physic, and the Table. All which have this common, That it cannot be pronounced, as to one of them, which of the two is best, Flesh or Fish; because 'tis requisite to have regard to places and persons. To begin with Policy. 'Tis true, a time must be left to fowls to lay their eggs, hatch and bring up their young; to other animals, to suckle theirs; otherwise the earth and the air would soon be depopulated; which time is usually the spring. But being this season and all others follow the course of the Sun in the Zodiac, which renders it various according to the diversity of Climates, we cannot find a time equally and universally proper for that release of Animals. Besides, there are Countries, as England and Holland, so abounding with fish and persons addicted to fishing, that nature offering them fish of her own accord, and their land not producing enough of other food for its inhabitants, the meaner people could not live of their industry, unless they were obliged by political Rule to live a certain time with Fish, and abstain from Flesh. As on the contrary, there's such a defect of fish in the middle parts of Spain, that they keep fast with the least nutritive parts of Animals, Feet and Entrails. Wherefore a general political rule cannot be established; but, as in most other things of the world, we must make use of a leaden Rule, and conform it to the stone. Secondly, for Physic; the Case is much the same. For by reason of the variety of Tempers, fish will not only be wholesome, but also appointed by the Physicians to some persons, as to the Choleric, whose stomaches need refreshment. True it is, there are found more to whom Fish does hurt, than otherwise. But this proceeds from satiety and too great repletion, which would not be so frequent if we lived in the ancient Frugality: For we see, they who eat no supper receive less hurt from fish than others do. But 'tis always true that fish cannot be absolutely pronounced wholesome or unwholesome. As for the goodness of Taste, that is yet more controverted, as depending on the several fancies of men.  
The Second said, That to judge this Question well, the same conditions are to be observed as in Juridical Sentences; in which alliances or friendships are allowable causes of exception, and credit is not given to those whose converse and particular inclination to one of the Parties renders their judgements suspected.  
No doubt, he who had been fed with Stockfish from his youth, and loved it so much that being arrived to the Pontifical Dignity, even than made his most delicious fare of it, would have concluded for fish. On the contrary, most others, whose stomaches agree not so well with fish, will give the advantage to flesh. 'Tis true, If it be here as 'tis in petty Courts, where he who cries loudest carries the Cause, than fish, to whom nature has denied the use of voice, must lose it, unless we maturely weigh their reasons. 1. The value and delicacy of Meats is usually rated according to their rarity and the scarcity of getting them; and therefore Heliogabalus never ate flesh but on the main Sea, nor fish but when he was very distant from it. Now Nature has separated fish from the habitation of men, and divided the one from the other as much as the water is from the Earth. 2. There's no kind of taste upon land which is not found in the water; nor any terrestrial animal but hath its like in the Sea. But we cannot say the same of Fishes, that there are terrestrial animals which have all their several tastes; and this proceeds from the almost infinite number of Fishes good to eat: whereas the Kind's of land-animals serviceable for man's food are very few. To that we may answer such as ask whether there be more delicacy in Flesh or Fish, as those who should ask whether Table is more delicious, that of a Citizen covered only with his ordinary fare, or that of Lucullus abounding besides with all imaginable rarities. You have some fishes who have nothing of fish but the name, having the consistence, colour, smell and taste of flesh; and the Hashes and Bisques made of them differ not from others. But you have no flesh which hath the taste of fish. 3. Animals more subject to infirmities and diseases ought less to delight our taste, and make us more afraid of them. Now land-animals are more sickly than fish, whose healthiness occasioned the Proverb, As sound as a Fish. 4. Our taste is chiefly delighted in variety. Now there is not only incomparably more sorts of Fishes then of other Animals, but each of them is prepared after many more fashions than Flesh; there being some Fish which is dressed five several ways: whereas when you have roasted a Partridge, or made a hash, Capilotade, or the Cook is at the end of his skill. 5. That which cloys most is less delicate, as we see the most delicious things are those which whet instead of satiating the Appetite presently. Now Fish fills less than Flesh. 6. 'Tis a more friable food, and easier to be ground by the teeth than the flesh of land-animals; and consequently more delicate.  
3. The Third said, There's no flesh, how delicate soever, which comes near the odour and savour of the little Pulp, the fish Spaga taken in Sicily, the Tunny and Atolle of Phrygia, of those little fishes called Caps found in the stones in Marca d' Ancona, and infinite others so esteemed by the ancients, that they reckoned amongst their greatest Delights, Ponds and Conservatories of Fish, which they nourished even with the bodies of their Slaves, to the end they might be more tender and delicate: as 'tis reported of Lucullus and Pollio who caused theirs to be devoured by Lampreys. Nor is fish less nutritive than flesh, seeing there are whole Nations, as the Ichthyophagi, which have no other bread but fish, of which dried in the Sun and reduced into powder they make a bread as nourishing as ours. By which means Fish serves both for bread and for meat; which Flesh cannot be made to do.  
The Fourth said, That the more affinity food hath with our nature, the more agreeable it is to us, it being the property of aliment to be like the thing nourished. Now 'tis certain, there's more resemblance between our bodies and those of land-animals, than those of fish; considering that the former breathe the same air with us, and are nourished with the same things. Besides, aliment, the more concocted and digested, is also the more delicate: raw flesh is not so delicate as dressed, nor boiled as roast, upon which the Fire acts more: and the parts of animals nearest the heart or which are most stirred, as in Sheep the breast and shoulder, are the most savoury. Now Fish have much less heat then terrestrial animals, as appears in that 'tis scarce perceivable; and consequently are less concoct and savoury, but fuller of excrementitious and superfluous humidity, which renders them more flat and insipid than the flesh of animals, called Meat by way of excelience. Whence also all hunted flesh or Venison are more delicate than domestic food, because wild animals dissipate, by the continual motion wherewith they are chafed, the superfluous humours, which domestic acquire by rest. But experience alone and the Church's command are reasons sufficiently strong to establish this truth. For experience (the mistress of things, always causing the most to seek the best) shows us that more people eat flesh then fish. And the Church doth not forbid us flesh, and enjoin fish, but to mortify us.  
The fifth said, That the Flesh of Animals is the rule of the goodness of Fish, which is the better the nearer it comes to Flesh; whence arose the Proverb, Young Flesh, and old Fish; because in time it acquires the consistence of Flesh. Now that which serves for a rule must needs excel the thing to be judged of by it. Nor doth the variety of sauces wherewith Fish is prepared make more to its advantage, than the goodness of the heft doth to prove that a knife is very sharp.    

CONFERENCE XXX.  
I. Of the Terrestrial Paradise. II. Of Embalmings and Mummies.  

I. Of the Terrestrial Paradise.  
THe existence of the Terrestrial Paradise cannot without impiety be doubted, since the Scripture assures us that it was in the Eastern parts towards Eden, which place Cain inhabited afterwards, and is designed by Ezechiel, cap. 27. near Coranto in Mesopotamia. But though 'tis not easy to know its true place, yet I am of their mind who hold that it was in the Mountain Paliedo in Armenia, the four Rivers mentioned to water Paradise issuing out of that Mountain; to wit, Lareze and Araxes, Tigris and Euphrates. Lareze running towards the West falls into Palus Maeotis, or the Mar del Zabac. Araxes going towards the East discharges itself into the Caspian Sea, or Mar de Sala. Tigris and Euphrates run into the Mar de Messedin, or Persian Gulf. And so Lareze and Araxes will be the Pison and Gihen mentioned in Scripture, not the Nile and Ganges, as some have thought; for the head of Nile being distant from that of Ganges 70 degrees, which make 1800 Leagues, how can they come from the same place? Nor is it to be wondered if those Rivers have changed their names, it being ordinary, not only to Rivers, but to Seas, Cities, and Provinces. Thus the River Tanais is now called Don; Ister is named Danubius; Eridanus, Padus, or the Po; Pactolus, Tagus; and almost all others.  
The second said, 'Tis with this delicious place as with Illustrious Persons, whose Country being unknown, every one challenges for theirs. Thus after Homer's death seven Cities fell into debate about his birth, every one pretending to the glory of it. And thus the place of terrestrial Paradise being unknown to men, many have assigned it to their own Country; but especially the Orientals have right to appropriate the same to themselves, having a title for it. Some have conceived, That before the Deluge it took up the most fertile Regions of the East, namely, Syria, Damascus, Arabia, Egypt, and the adjacent Provinces; but the Waters having by their inundation disfigured the whole surface of the earth, and changed the course of the four Rivers, there remains not any trace or foot-step of it. Many believe that it was in Palestine, and that the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil was planted upon Mount Calvary, where our Lord was Crucified, to the end the sin of our first Father might be expiated in the same place where it was committed: For they who place it under the Equinoctial Line may find some reason for it as to the Heaven, but not as to the Earth: But they who assign it to the concave of the Moon had need establish new Principles, to keep themselves from being ridiculous. They best excuse our ignorance who say, That 'tis indeed in some place upon the Earth, but Seas, or Rocks, or intemperateness of Climate, hinder access to it: Whereunto others add, That when God punished the sin of man with the Flood, his Justice left the place where the first was committed still covered with waters.  
The third said, What is commonly alleged, That the way to Paradise is not easy, though meant of the Celestial, may also be applied to the Terrestrial; for it is amongst us, and yet the way which leads to it cannot be found. The diversity of opinions touching its true place hath given ground to some Fathers to take this History in a mystical sense, and say, That this Paradise was the Universal Church; That the four Rivers which watered it and all the Earth were the four Evangdlists, their Gospels (which at first were written for the benefit of the faithful) having resounded through all the corners of the Earth; That the Trees laden with good Fruits are the good Works of the many holy Personages; the Tree of Life, our Lord Christ; the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, our freewill; Adam, our Soul; Eve, our Senses; the Serpent, Temptation; the banishment of Adam out of Paradise, the loss of Grace; the Cherubin wielding his flaming Sword, the Divine Anger and Vengeance; and the leaves of the Figtree, the vain excuses of our first Parents. But some Geographers having taken notice of a place not far from Babylon where the Rivers Euphrates and Tigris join together, and afterwards are divided again, and change their names, one of the Arms (which descends into the Persian Sea) being called Phasis, which is Pison; the other (which is Gihen) passing through Arabia Deserta, and Aethiopia, which is near it, have conceived that the Terrestrial Paradise was at the place of the Conjunction of those four Rivers between the Caspian, Persian, and Mediterranean Seas, towards Mesopotamia and Arabia. And consequently it seems best to take this History according to the Letter, there being a place still which agrees with the truth of that description. Nevertheless the Objection, [That the small portion of Land which appears between those Rivers would not have sufficed to lodge and feed Adam and his Posterity, as would have been necessary in case he had not finned.] makes me rather incline to their opinion who think that the Terrestrial Paradise was all the habitable Earth, such as it was before sin; the four Rivers, the four Seasons of the Year, or the four Cardinal Winds, or the four Elements; which is manifested in that the Scripture doth not set down that Adam went to Travel into any other Land after he was driven out of Paradise. 'Twas enough for him that this Earth was no longer a Paradise to him, but produced nothing but thorns and thistles, instead of the fruits and flowers which it afforded before God had cursed it, and so inseparably connected man's labour with those fruits, that now a days to express a hundred acres of Land we commonly say, A hundred acres of Labour. And as a place ceases to be the Court when the King is no longer in it, so the Divine Benediction withdrawn from the Earth, it ceased to be Paradise: Yea, Adam having ceased to be King of it, and by his sin lost the Dominion which he had over all, even the fiercest Creatures, the Earth became no longer a Paradise to him. But if I be required to assign a particular place to this Paradise, leaving the description of places which I never saw to the belief of Geographers, I find none more fit for it then France: Its Climate is temperate, especially towards the East and South: It hath four Rivers, which bring into it Gold, and all the other Commodities attributed unto Paradise by the first Historian: It so abounds with all sorts of flowers that it hath taken three Lilies for its Arms; And with fruits, that it hath for itself and its Neighbours; yea, above any other, it produces every Tree fair to look upon, and good for food (to use the Scripture-words). One interposed, That he should think 'twas Normandy, so fruitful of goodly Apples, were it not that no Vines grow there, whose fruit is so pleasant to behold.  
The fourth said, As there is no great certainty in the consequences drawn from Allegories, so neither are Allegories very successfully drawn from Histories, and substituted in their places. I know not what History is, if that of our first Father be not; nor where to stop, if people will subtilise upon the first circumstance of his Creation, and what he did afterwards. But if we find difficulty in according the Geographical Tables of the present time with the truth of that, why do not we likewise make Allegories of the Creation, and all its sequels, which are so many Miracles? If we see no Angel that guards the access to it, no more did Balaam see that which stood in his way, though visible to his Ass. And being the space of the Garden of Eden is not determinately set down, nothing hinders but that it might be of very vast extent; and this takes away the scruple of those who object the distance which is between all those great Rivers. Besides, being Enoch and Elias were since Adam's fall transported into this Paradise, where they must be till the coming of Antichrist, 'tis a certain Argument of its real subsistence.   

II. Of Embalmings and Mummies.  
Upon the second point it was said, That the Ancients were much more careful than we, not only to preserve the Images of their Forefathers, but also to keep their Bodies, which they variously embalmed. The Grecians washed them in Wine mingled with warm Water, and then put them them into oil of Olives, Honey, or Wax. The Aethyopians first salted them, and then put them into Vessels of Glass. In the Canary Islands they season them in the Sea, and afterwards dry them in the Sun. The Scythians place them upon Mountains covered with snow, or in the coolest Caves. Indeed every one knows there is a Cave at Tholouze which hath a particular virtue to preserve carcases from corruption, and in which is seen at this day the entire body of the fair Saint Baume, and many others, dead above 200 years ago. The Indians covered them with ashes. The Egyptians conceiving that bodies corrupted rose not again, and that the Soul was sensible of the Body's corruption, did not yield to any people in curiosity of preserving them; they filled with Myrrh, Cinnamon and other Spices, or with Oil of Cedar; then they salted them with Nitre, whose aerimony consumes all the superfluous humidities which cause putrefaction. 'Tis from these bodies that we have that excellent Mummy, whose admirable effects I ascribe to sympathy. But concerning what is affirmed, that being transported by Sea they cause tempests and strange agitations in the Ship; 'tis an effect which is to be attributed to a more occult cause.  
The Second said, Man is so admirable an Edifice, that even his Ruins have their use. His Fat is one of the most excellent Anodynes. His Skull serves against the Epilepsic. This liquor which is drawn from his Tomb hath several virtues: and the reasons of the great and admirable effects imputed to it, as the healing of inwards Ulcers; and Contusions of Blood arriving to such as have fallen from on high, seem to me imputable to three Causes; a Spiritual, a Celestial, and an Elementary. The first ariseth hence, that so perfect a Form as the reasonable Soul, having informed part of this Compositum, which by the mixture of some Ingredients, as Myrrh and Aloes, hath been preserved from corruption, the same thing arrives to it which the Chemists say doth to their white Gold when they have extracted its Sulphur and Tincture. For being rejoined to other Gold, it easily resumes the same form, and is sooner and more inseparably combined with it then any other thing, as having been of the same species. So when you put Mummy into a body of the same species, it takes part with the nature whence it proceeded, and siding with it encounters the disease and its symptoms: like Succour coming to relieve a besieged City with provisions and ammunition. The Celestial cause is drawn from the Heavens; for that the light and influence of superior bodies act upon all the sublunary; but, by the consent of all, none is so susceptible of their actions as man; and if his soul be not subject thereunto, yet his body is, undoubtedly; to each part of which each part of Heaven not only answers, as some hold, but the whole to all. Whence is seen the diversity of disposition, inclinations and manners, such and so great, that 'tis a palpable mistake to attribute the same to the mere mixture of the Elements. Now Mummy, having received, not only while it was animated▪ but afterwards, all the influences whereof the humane body is susceptible, it becomes, as it were, the abstract of all the Celestial powers; and better then Talismanical figures, communicates the same to him that uses it. The last reason, drawn from the mixture of the Elements and their qualities, might suffice alone without the preceding. For Man being the abridgement of the world, ought also to contain all the faculties of it; and his Mummy being inanimate, but having lived the life of a plant, an animal and a man, it contains all these natures eminently.  
The Third said, That Man affecting nothing so much as immortality, because he fears nothing more than death; and being unable to secure himself from it, does all that he can to perpetuate himself in some fashion, since he cannot wholly. The desire of supporting his Individual person, and defending it from all inconveniences which may abridge his life, makes him count nothing difficult. In Propagation he seeks the eternity of his species. And though he is assured, by Reason, of his soul's immortality; and by faith, of his body's resurrection, yet he seeks all ways he can imagine to render the memory of all his actions perpetual. 'Tis this desire of getting a death-less fame, which causes us sometimes to die immaturely by watchings and study, and so cheerfully undergo hazards, to eternize the memory of our names. Anciently this desire of perpetuation was most visible in the care to keep the life-less body, even amongst the vulgar; and hence the Mummies of the Egyptians and other Nations remain to this day, after three or four thousand years. At present, through the ignorance of Times, this care is practised only amongst great persons; and yet the effect answers very little to their intention. For the Surgeons do not Embalm a man now a days, but only the bones and skin, after they have taken away his principal parts, the heart, liver and brain, which constituted him a man, and not the rest; the cause whereof must be attributed to defect of Invention and means fit to dry up the superfluous humidity which causes the corruption of body; for that alone will keep them which can dry them with the moderation requisite to the preserving of their Colour and Figure.  
The Fourth said, There's a resemblance of these Mummies in bodies struck with thunder, which are free from corruption; the Sulphur consuming the humidity, and introducing dryness to resist putrefaction, as Fire, Salt, Vitriol, Nitre, Chalk, Alum, Vinegar, and Aquavitae, do by their desiccative and astringing virtue. Some poisons also do the same. As Placentinus reports of a Venetian Lady, who having been poisoned, her body became so stiff, that it seemed to be petrified. But the particular temper of every place is of great moment. They who inhabit the Southern Countries are so dry that their bodies keep entire eight days after death. And they have so little humidity, that 'tis no less a shame amongst them, then of old amongst the Lacedæmonians, to spit or blow the Nose.  
The Fifth said, That the same natural inclination of men to preserve themselves the longest they can, which heretofore instigated them to erect proud Mausolaeums, Pyramids and Marbles, for eternising their memory; put them also upon the invention of Embalming their bodies; which is a refuge after shipwreck, a little way after death. But as 'tis a general law that all things which took their being by generation must lose it by corruption; indeed by some artifice we may retard dissolution for a time; but perfectly to hinder it, is impossible. For Heat determined to a certain degree by Cold, is the Agent which mixes the Humid with the Dry, and retains them in that mixture as long as itself remains entire and strong. But if this Heat receive any diminution, either being suffocated and enclosed, or or else drawn out by a greater Heat of the Air encompassing us, (the less Heat always yielding and serving for Aliment to the greater) this natural Heat being thus weakened, presently the Humidity leaves the Dryness, and carries away with itself that little Heat which remained; whence this Humidity is heated itself, and excites a stink, and at last vanishing away, the remainder turns to powder. Wherefore the moistest bodies are most easy to corrupt, excessive humidity more easily extinguishing the Heat which retained it in its duty. And the most solid bodies, as Gold and Silver, corrupt difficultly, because they have very little Humidity; and that little which they have is greatly incorporated and united with the Dryness. But there are two sorts of Humidity; One, excrementitious and also alimentous, which by the least defect of Heat is easily turned into putrefaction, because it is not yet united and assimilated to the Body wherein it is found; whence it is that foul Bodies, Trees cut at Full Moon, being full of their sap, and Fruits gathered before their maturity, very easily corrupt. The other is an Humidity already assimilated, which links all the parts together; and being substantial, is not so easily corrupted as the other. Wherefore they who would embalm Bodies well, having two Humidities to repress, must make use of several means. The former Humidity must be absumed by Hot Drugs, amongst which, Wormwood and Scordium hold the first place; experience manifesting the one, and Galen observing that the Bodies of the Grecians slain in a battle, which touched Scordium, were found entire many days after. The latter Humidity must be preserved by Balsams Cold, Dry and penetrating, which may preserve the figure, colour, and consistence in the dead body.    

CONFERENCE XXXI.  
I. Whether the Life of Man may be prolonged by Art. II. Whether 'tis better to be without Passion then to moderate them.  

I. Whether the Life of a Man may be prolonged by Art.  
THe duration of a motion or action cannot be known, unless the measure of it be known; nor can they be measured unless they have known bounds. Whence neither can it be known whether the Life may be prolonged, without knowing beforehand how long it lasts. Now 'tis impossible to know this duration. For, not to mention the long lives of the Fathers in the two first thousand years of the world, God told Noah, that the age of Man should be no more than but sixscore years. Moses and David restrain it to seventy or eighty. And yet as there are at this day some who come near a hundred, so there are a hundred times as many who do not attain thirty. And whereas no body can speak of Death by experience, because they who speak of it have not felt it, and they who have felt it cannot speak of it more; the case is the same concerning Life. Let a Man, by good order, or the use of remedies, live as long as he will, it will not be believed that his life has been prolonged; but, on the contrary, that his hour was not yet come. Nevertheless 'tis no less consistent with reason, to say, that he who would infallibly have died of a Gangrene which invaded his Leg, and thereby the rest of his Body, hath had his life prolonged by cutting off his Leg; or that he who was wounded in the crural vein, at which all his blood would have soon issued forth, has been secured from death by the Chirurgeon, who stopped the blood; then to believe, as we do, that a Rope-maker lengthens his rope by adding new stuff to that which was ended; that a Goldsmith makes a chain of Gold longer by fastening new links to it; that a Smith causes his fire to last more by putting fresh coals to it. And as, in all this, there is nothing which crosses our Reason; so if a sick man, who is visibly going to die, receives help, and escapes, does he not owe the more glory to God for having not only cured him by the hands of the Physician, or by spiritual Physic alone, but also prolonged his Life, as he did to King Hezekias, whose Life was lengthened fifteen years, and of which our age wants not example? If it be objected that this may hold in violent deaths, whereof the causes may be avoided, but that 'tis not credible that a decrepit old man, who hath spun out his Life to the last, can continue it; the nature and Etymology of the radical moisture not admitting a possibility of restauration; I answer, that reasons taken from the original of words, are not the strongest; and that besides there are roots which endure more, and others less, according as they are well or ill cultivated. And if the reason drawn from contraries be considerable, being many poisons are so quick that they corrupt the radical moisture in an instant, ought we to conceive Nature so much a stepdame as that she hath not produced something proper to restore it? And that Humane Industry is so dull and little industrious in the thing which Man desires most, which is long Life, that it cannot reach to prepare some matter for the support, yea, for the restauration of that Original Humidity? Considering that we are not reduced to live only by what is about us, as Plants and Plant-animals do, but all the world is open and accessible to our search of Aliments and Medicines. Moreover, we have examples not only of a Nestor who lived three ages; of an Artephius who lived as many, and many more; and the Herb Moly, the Nectar and Ambrosia of the Poets, which kept their gods from growing old, may well be taken for a figure of the Tree of Life, which was designed for separation of this Humidity, but also of compositions proper to produce that effect. Yea, were it not actually so, yet 'tis not less possible; and God hath not in vain promised as a Reward to such as honour their Superiors, to prolong their days upon the earth.  
The Second said, If Medea found Herbs, as the Poets say, to lengthen the Life of Aeson the Father of Jason, the Daughters of Aelias' miscarried of their purpose. Indeed every thing that lives needs Heat for exercising its Actions, and Humidity to sustain that Heat; the duration of this Heat in the Humidity is Life, which lasts as long as the one is maintained by the other; like the lighted wick in a Lamp. Now Nature dispenses to every one from the Birth as much of this Heat and Moisture as she pleases, to one for fifty, to another for sixty, seventy, eighty years or more; which ended, the stock is spent. Physic may husband it well, but cannot produce it anew; Aliments never repair it perfectly, no more than Water doth Wine, which it increases indeed, but weakens too, when mingled therewith.  
The Third backed this Suffrage with the opinion of Pythagoras, who held that our Life is a straight line; that the accidents which disturb it, and at length bring Death, constitute another; and accordingly (saith he) as these two lines incline less or much towards one another, Life is long or short; because the Angle of their incidence, and at which they cut, which is our Death, happens sooner or later; and it would never happen, if these two lines were parallel. Now the meeting of these two lines cannot be deferred or put off.  
The Fourth said, 'Twere a strange thing if Humane Art could repair all other defects of the Body and Mind, excepting that whereof there is most need, and all Ages have complained, Brevity of Life. For our Understanding hath much less need of an Art of Reasoning, our tongue of an Art of speaking, our legs of dancing, than our Life of being continued, since 'tis the foundation of all the rest. Besides, Physic would seem useless without this. For though it served only to assuage the pains of diseases, (which is a ridiculous opinion) yet it would thereby protract the time of Death, to which pain is the way.  
The Fifth said, That for the preservation of Life, 'tis requisite to continue the marriage of Heat and moisture, Death always happening immediately upon their disjunction, and leaving the contrary qualities in their room, Cold and Dryness. Now to know how Heat must be preserved, we must observe how 'tis destroyed. And that is four ways I. By Cold, which being moderate, fights with it; but violent, wholly destroys it. II. By suffocation, or smothering, when the Pores are stopped, and the issue of fuliginous vapours hindered: Thus Fire dies for want of Air. III. By its dissipation, which is caused by hot medicaments, violent exercise, and immoderate heat of the Sun or Fire: Whence proceeds a Syncope or Deliquium of the Heart. IV. By want of Aliment, without which it can no more last a moment, than Fire without wood or other combustible matter. All agree that the three first Causes may be avoided, or at least remedied. And as for the Fourth, which is doubled of, I see nothing that hinders but that as the spirits of our bodies are perfectly repaired by the Air we incessantly breathe; so Aliments, or some Specificks, as, as amongst others, Gold dissolved in some water not corrosive, may in some manner restore the fuel of our Heat. And seeing there are found burning Mountains, in which the Fire cannot consume so much matter apt for burning, but it always affords itself other new, which makes it subsist for many Ages: Why may not a matter be prepared for our Natural Heat, which though not near so perfect as that which it consumed, (for were it so, an Animal would be immortal) yet may be more excellent than ordinary Aliments, and by this means prolong our Lives. And this must be sought after, not judged impossible.  
The Sixth said, That Life consisting in the Harmony and proportion of the four first qualities, and in the contemperation of the four Humours; there's no more required for the prolonging of Life, but to continue this Harmony. Which may be done, not only by a good natural temper, but also by the right use of external things; as pure Air, places healthful and exposed to the Eastern winds, Aliments of good juice, sleep sufficiently long, exercises not violent, passions well ruled, and the other things; whose due administration must prolong Life by the same reason that their abuse or indiscreet usage diminishes it.  
The Seventh said, That Life consists in the salt which contains the Spirit that quickens it, and is the preservative Balsam of all compounds. The vivifying Spirit of Man is enclosed in a very volatile Armoniac Salt, which exhales easily by Heat, and therefore needs incessant reparation by Aliments. Now to preserve Life long, it is requsite to fix this volatile salt; which is done by means of another salt extracted by Chemistry, which is not only fixed, but also capable to fix the most volatile. For the Chemists represent this salt incorruptible in itself, and communicating its virtue to other bodies: Upon which account they style it Quintessence, Aethereal Body, Elixir, and Radical Balsam, which hath a propriety to preserve not only living bodies many Ages, but dead, from corruption.   

II. Whether 'tis better to be without Passions then to moderate them.  
Upon the Second Point, it was said, Tranquillity of Mind, the scope and end of Moral Philosophy, is of three sorts. The I. is called Alaraxic, and is in the Understanding, whose judgement it suspends, and is not moved with any thing; which was the end of the Sceptics. The II. is in the Reason, which regulates the Passions of the Sensitive Appetite, and is termed Metriopathy, or moderation of the Passions. The III. is the Apathy of the Stoics, in which they constituted their supreme Good; which is an Insensibility, Indolence, and want of Passions, attributed by the envious to a Melancholy Humour, or to Ambition and Cynical Hypocrisy. For the Melancholy Man seeking solitude as the Aliment of his Fancy, and the Element of his black Humour, (which is the stepdame of Virtues) by thinking to avoid external Passions, remains under the Tyranny of internal, which he dares not vent, but covers like Fire under ashes. This masked Sect shuts the fore-door indeed to the Passions, but opens the postern. They passionately desire to show themselves without Passion. And their vanity appears in that they affect to appear unlike the rest of Men, by casting off humane sentiments and affections, as Charity and Compassion, which they account vicious. But instead of raising themselves above Men, they degrade themselves below beasts, by depriving themselves of the indifferent actions which are common to us with them: Actions which Reason ought to regulate indeed, but not wholly reject. And as the supreme Region of the Air receives Exhalations to inflame them, and make shining Comets, but is free from Hail, Thunder, Winds, Rains, and other Meteors which are made in the Middle Region; so Reason ought to receive the notices of the Sensitive Appetite which are called Passions, to make use of them; but 'tis to moderate them, and hinder the disorder caused by them in the Sensitive Appetite, which is the Middle Faculty of the Soul. In fine, as Eagles and Dolphins, which are in the tempests of the Winds and Sea, are yet more to be esteemed then Moles, Worms, and other creeping things which live in holes; so he who is agitated with Passions much surpasses him who hath none at all. Nor is there any body but desires rather to be froward then stupid and insensible. And if Insensibility be a Virtue, than stocks and stones and inanimate bodies would be more happy than we.  
The Second said, Since Passion is an irregular motion of the Sensitive Appetite, called therefore Perturbation, it altars the state of the Soul: Whence Anger and Fear hinder us from perceiving what is visible, and Hatred or Love pervert the Judgement; for which reason we desire that a good Judge be without Passion. What a disease is to the Body, whose actions it hurteth, that are the Passions to the Soul. Wherefore to ask whether the Soul is happiest without Passion, is to question whether the Body is most at ease without sickness; and, to moderate instead of extirpating them, is to palliate a disease instead of curing it; and to inquire of a Pilot whether a Tempest be more proper for Navigation then a Calm. Moreover, the happiest condition of Man is that which comes nearest Eternal Bliss, in which we shall have no Passions; the superior and rational part having subdued the inferior or sensitive. And Aristotle holds, that the Heroes or Demigods are exempted from them.  
The Third said, 'Tis to derogate from our Senses, to say, with the Stoics, that the Passions which we feel proceed only from the depravation of our judgements. For what they call diseases of the Mind, is meant of those which are inordinate, and not of those which are moderate and framed by the level of Reason. 'Tis therefore expedient to moderate, them, but not wholly extinguish them, though it were possible. Now that it is impossible, appears, because they are appurtenances of our Nature, and the actions of the Sensitive Faculty, which is part of ourselves. And our Lord not having renounced these appendances of our Humanity, hath thereby manifested that they are not vicious. Besides, the first motions are not in our power, and therefore 'tis impossible totally to extirpate them. But though we could, we ought not, because they are altogether necessary; as appears in that, I. Without the Passions there would be no Virtues, for the Passions are the Objects of Virtues; Thus Temperance moderates Pleasure and Pain, Fortitude regulates Boldness and Fear. II. They sharpen them. Thus Anger serves to heighten Courage, and Fear augments Prudence. III. They preserve an Animal. Thus Pleasure incites Animals to feed and generate, and Grief makes them avoid what is noxious, and recur to remedies, even in spiritual distempers; in which to be insensible of Grief is to be desperate.  
The Fourth said, If Men were void of Passions, they might be lead to Virtue with much more success and less trouble. For they would not be averted from it by the contrary motions of their Passions, which hurry them with so great violence, that all that the most virtuous endeavour to do, is, to swim against the Torrent, and repress its impetuous course: Upon which they unfruitfully spend their time, which might be far better employed in performing virtuous actions, when the rebated Passions (introducing an agreeable evenness in their Humours, with a firm Constancy in their Manners, accompanied with a laudable indifference in their Desires) would allow reason more means to incite them to the exercise of Virtues. For Men having their Eyes unveiled of the sundry affections which blind them, would more perfectly know the True Good, and consequently pursue it by a shorter and surer way. And though they were not lead to Sensible Good with so much ardour, nor decline Evil with so much horror, yet they would do both with more reason. So that, what Men do now by a motion of the Sensitive Appetite, they would do then by a principle of Virtue. For the difficulty found in attaining a total privation of Passions seems indeed to surpass our strength, yet thereby sets forth the excellence of the Achievement.  
The Fifth said, He that were exempt from all Passions, would be as unhappy as he that should always endeavour to bridle them. But the former is impossible, and the latter no less difficult than to walk upon a rope, where the least false step procures a dangerous fall. For we quit our passions, but they quit not us; as the thought of young maidens followed a good father even into his Hermitage. And he that goes about to tame them, is the true Sisyphus, upon whom the stone which he thrusts away incessantly revolves. The first would be without joy, without which nevertheless a man cannot be happy. The second would be without rest, because he would be in perpetual combat and inquietude, wherewith felicity cannot consist. I conceive therefore (morally speaking) there's more felicity in gently giving the bridle to one's passions, and following his inclinations: although this opinion may well consist with Christian Philosophy in good-natured persons, or such as have acquired a good temper by good examples, who may innocently follow their inclination, because it will lead them only to virtuous, or, at least, indifferent things. And for the vicious, 'tis certain the evil which they do not by reason of the repugnance which they have to it, and the fear of punishment, cannot be imputed to them for virtue, nor consequently make them happy.    

CONFERENCE XXXII.  
I. Sympathy and Antipathy. II. Whether Love descending is stronger than ascending.  

I. Of Sympathy and Antipathy.  
WHat a Father once said, That the first, second, and third Point of Christian Philosophy was humility (meaning that it all referred thereunto) the same may be said of Sympathy and Antipathy, which is the Similitude or Contrariety of Affections. For the generation and corruption of all things is to be referred to them. The sympathy of the simple qualities, and the Elements wherein they are found, are causes of the temperament of mixed bodies, as the antipathy is of their dissolution. 'Tis they who unite and dis-unite those compound bodies, and by approximating or removing them one from another cause all their motions and actions. When these causes are apparent to us, and may be probably imputed to qualities, we recur to them as the most easy, general and common. But when we find bodies, whose qualities seem alike to us, and nevertheless they have very different effects, we are then constrained to seek the cause thereof elsewhere; and finding none, we call it an Occult Propriety, whose two daughters are Sympathy and Antipathy. For Man, being a reasonable creature, is desirous to know the reason of every thing; and when he cannot attain to it he becomes as much tormented as a Judge whose Jurisdiction is retrenched: and this through want of apprehending that what he knows hath no other proportion to what he ignores, then finite, yea very little, hath to infinite. And being unable to find the true reason of an infinite number of effects which ravish him with admiration, yet resolving to have some one, he feigns one under these names of Sympathy and Antipathy; those two Hocus Pocus', to which he refers the cause why Coral stays bleeding, Amber draws straw, the Loadstone Iron, which the Theamede rejects; why the Star-stone moves in Vinegar, the Cole-wort is an enemy to the Vines, Garlick a friend to the Rose and Lily, increasing one the others ' odour; why a man's fasting-spittle kills the Viper, why Eels drowned in Wine make the drinker thenceforward hate it; why Betony strengthens the Brain, Succhory is proper to the Liver, Bezoar a friend to the Heart; and infinite others. But because general causes do not satisfy us no more than Definitions whose Genuses are remote, and the Differences common, it seems we are obliged to a particular inquisition of their causes.  
The Second said, The Subjects in which Sympathies and Antipathies are found must be distinguished, in order to assign their true causes. For in things alike, we may refer their effects to the similitude of their substances and accidents. Thus the Lungs of a Fox are useful to such as are Phthisical; the intestine of a Wolf is good for the Colic; Eye-bright for the Eye, Solomons's-Seal for the Rupture, the black decoction of Sena for Melancholy, yellow Rhubarb for choler, white Agaric for Phlegm. Yet 'tis not requisite that this resemblance be total; for then a man's Lungs should rather be serviceable to the Phthisical, then that of a Fox, and the Loadstone should rather draw a Load-then Iron, which yet does not hold, because there's no action between things perfectly alike. Antipathy also arises from the contrariety of Forms, their qualities and other accidents. Now we are much puzzled to assign the causes of this Sympathy and Antipathy in things which have nothing either of likeness or contrariety: as when I see two unknown men play at Tennis, the one with as good a grace as the other, I have a kind of desire that one may rather win then the other. Is it not rather chance which causes this? Our will, though free, being always obliged to tend this way or that way, and cannot choose the worst; or else, all things being made by weight, number and measure, those affect one another most who have the same proportion in their composition; or who had the same configuration of heaven at their birth. Or every thing naturally affecting to become perfect seeks this perfection in all the subjects which it meets; and when the same disposition is found in two several bodies or minds, if they would arrive at that perfection by one and the same way, this meeting serves for the means of union, which is our sympathy; and their different disposition or way, the contrary.  
The Third, amongst sundry examples of Antipathy, said, That if we believe Apuleius, the Look-glassing used by an incontinent woman spoils the visage of a chaste; that it is manifest between the horse and the Camel, the Elephant and the Swine, the Lion and the Cock, the Bull and the Figtree, the Adder and a naked man, the Ape and the Tortoise, the Serpent and the shadow of the Ash. For that which is observed amongst Animals who devour and serve for food to one another, as the Wolf and the Sheep, the Kite and the Chicken; or amongst those who always offend and hurt one the other, as Man and the Serpent, deserve rather the name of Enmity, whereof the causes are manifest. But, to speak truth, all these effects are no more known to us then their causes are unknown. He who endued them with Forms having annexed Proprieties thereunto, both the one and the other, impenetrable to humane wit.  
The Fourth said, That for a lasting order amongst the creatures, it was requisite that every one were naturally lead to its own preservation by adhering to what was conducible thereunto, and eschewing the contrary. Now, to do this, they needed instruments whereby to act, which are their qualities, either manifest (which proceed from the Temperament, and are either First, or Second, or else occult (which proceed from every form and substance) to which the Sympathies and Antipathies, correspondences and contrarieties of all natural, Bodies ought to be referred, from whence issue some spirits bearing the character and idea of the form from which they flow. These spirits being carried through the air (just as odours are) if their forces and virtues be contrary, they destroy one another: which is called Antipathy. If the same be friendly, they unite and join together, the stronger attracting the weaker. Hence Iron doth not attract the Loadstone, but the Loadstone Iron. So when a Wolf sees a man first, the man loses his voice, or, at least, becomes hoarse; because venomous spirits issue out the Wolf's eyes, which being contrary to those which issue out of the man, enclose the same, and by hindering them to flow forth hinder them from forming the voice. But when the man spies the Wolf first, his effluvia being foreseen hurt less, and have less power upon him, because the man encourages himself against them.  
The Fifth said, 'Tis more fit to admire these secret motions, (which depend only on the good pleasure of Nature, who alone knows wherein consists the proportion & correspondence which makes bodies symbolise one with another) then to seek the true cause of them unprofitably. And Aristotle himself confesses that he knew not whereunto to refer the Antipathy which is between the Wolf and the Sheep, so strange, that even after their deaths, the strings of Instruments made of their guts never agree together: as the feathers of the Eagle consume those of other Birds. Likewise, the subtle Scaliger, after much time unprofitably spent, acknowledges that he understands it not. They who go about to give reasons of it are not less ignorant, but more vain than others.  
The Sixth said, Words are frequently abused; as for example, when 'tis attributed to Antipathy, that the Dog runs after the Hare; whereas 'tis for the pleasure that he takes in his smelling, which is an effect of Sympathy. But they who refer almost every thing to Occult Proprieties are like the Countryman, who not seeing the springs of a Watch thinks it moves by an occult virtue; or who being asked, why it thunders, answers, simply, because it pleases God. Wherefore instead of imitating the ignorant vulgar (who are contented to admire an Eclipse, without seeking the cause) the difficulty ought to inflame our desire; as we use more care and diligence to discover a hidden treasure; nothing seeming impossible to the Sagacious wits of these times.  
The Seventh said, That, according to Plato, the reason of Sympathies and Antipathies is taken from the correspondence and congruity, or from the disproportion which inferior bodies have with the superior, which according as they are more or less in terrestrial bodies, and according to the various manner of their being so, the same have more or less sympathy. For as inferior things take their source from above, so they have one to the other here below the same correspondence which is common to them with the celestial bodies: according to the Axiom, that things which agree in one third, agree also among themselves. Thus, amongst stones, those which are called Helites and Selenites (Sun-stone, and Moon-stone) are luminous, because they partake of the rays of those Luminaries; and the Helioselene imitates by its figure the Conjunction of the Sun and Moon. Amongst Plants, the Lote or Nettle-tree, the Mari-gold and the Heliotrope or Sun-flower, follow the motion of the Sun. Amongst Solar Animals, the Cock and the Lion are the most noble; and the Cock more than the Lion; he always gives applauses to the Sun when he perceives him approaching our Horizon or Zenith. Whereupon the Lion fears and respects him: because things which are inferior to others in one and the same degree, yield to them, though they surpass them in strength and bigness; as the arms which fury hath put into the hands of a mutinous multitude, fall out of them at the presence of some man of respect and authority, though they be a thousand against one.   

II. Whether Love descending be stronger than ascending.  
Upon the second Point it was said, Although this be a common saying, and it seems that Love ought rather to descend then ascend, yea that Fathers are obliged to love their children even with the hatred of themselves; yet I conceive that the love of children towards their fathers surpasses that of fathers towards their children; inasmuch as the latter proceeds from the love which the fathers bear to themselves, being desirous to have support and assistance from those whom they bring into the world, and in them to perpetuate their names, honours, estates, and part of themselves. But the love of children to Fathers is pure and disinterested; as may be observed in many who, having no hope of a patrimony, love and honour their parents with most respectful kindness. Moreover, the supreme authority and absolute power of life and death, which the Romans and our ancient Gauls frequently used against their children, shows their little affection. For, not to speak of those Nations who sacrificed theirs to false gods, nor of Manlius, Mithridates, Philip II. King of Spain, and infinite others, who put them to death; Fathers anciently held them of worse condition than their slaves. For a slave once sold never returned more into the Seller's power; whereas a son sold and set at liberty returned thrice into the power of his Father. As also at this day, in Moscovia, Russia, and particularly in Cyprus, Rhodes, and Candia, where 'tis an ordinary thing for fathers to sell their sons to marry their daughter, which made Augustus say, having heard that Herod had killed his own son, that it was better to be the Swine than son of a Jew. But Patricide was unknown to ancient Legislators; and Lycurgus never ordained any punishment against such criminals, not imagining that such a crime could come into the mind of a lawful child, whom the Persians conceived to declare himself a bastard by such an action. For that foolish custom which reigned some time at Rome of precipitating men of sixty years old from the bridge into Tiber, is no sign of the cruelty of children towards their fathers, since they imagined that they did an act of piety and religion therein, by delivering them from the miseries of this life.  
The Second said, None can know how great a love a father bears his children, but he that hath been a Father. Paternal tenderness is so vehement that all the passions and affections of the soul give place to it. Prudence and Philosophy may preach to us restraint and moderation; but a father's love, admitting no rule, caused a King of Sparta to run with a stick between his legs, a Grand Cosmo to whip a top, and the wisest of all the Grecians to play at Cob-nut, to make pastime to their children: experiences sufficient to gain the cause to paternal love, though it were not backed by these reasons. 1. That love being the issue of knowledge, the more there is of knowledge the more there is of love. Therefore fathers having more knowledge than their children, have also more love. 2. As man desires nothing so much as immortality, so he loves that thing especially which procures the same to him; and hating death more than any thing in the world, extremely loves what seems to keep him from dying, as his children do, in whom he seems to revive. Whence also the Pelican feeds its young at the expense of its own blood. On the contrary, Man being the most ambitious of all creatures, hates nothing so much as to see himself subjected to another. Wherefore children, that the benefits which they receive from their fathers may oblige them to gratitude and subjections they perform the same indeed, but with much less love than their fathers. 3. God has given no commandment to fathers to love their children, knowing that they loved them but too much; but he hath to children, to love and honour their fathers, as having need to be invited thereunto even by promise of reward. 4. We naturally love that which proceeds from us, be it the most imperfect in the world. The Workman loves his work more than that loves him; as the Creator loves his creature better than he is loved by it. Moreover, we find in Scripture fathers who desired and obtained the raising of their children from the dead, but no child that prayed God to raise his father; yea, one that desired leave to go and bury his. To conclude, our will is carried to an object by the opinion, true or false, which it conceives of it; and accordingly we see that a man's only believing himself to be a father inspires this paternal love into him, though he be not.  
The Third said, In this sweet debate between fathers and children, I conceive the former aught to yield to the latter, as in all other cases the latter to the former. And as the whole goes not to seek its part, but the part its whole; so the child, who is part of his father, loves him more tenderly, and is more willingly lead towards him then the father towards his child. If father's love their children because they resemble them, the resemblance is common to both, and so children shall love them as much for the same reason. And the being which fathers give their children is as much an effect of the love which they bear to themselves as of that which they bear to their children. Indeed, if love be a fire (as the Poets say) it must, according to its natural motion, rather ascend then descend; and if, in humane love, the lover is less perfect than the loved, the child who hath less perfection than the father, must be the lover, and the father the subject of his love. And this the examples of Filial love sufficiently manifest. For not to speak of Aeneas who saved his father from the fire and sack of Troy, nor of Amphinomus and Anapias who went to draw theirs out of the midst of Aetna's flames; nor of Cimon the son of Miltiades who sold his liberty to redeem the dead body of his father (which was retained for debts) and to give it an honourable burial; nor of Athamanes King of Crete, who voluntarily brought death upon himself that he might prolong his father's life, according to the answer of the Oracle; Appius alone decides the question. He had the choice of leaving either his father or his own family in evident danger, he chose rather to be a good son then a good father and husband, abandoning his wife and children to the proscription of the Triumvirate, that he might secure his father from it.  
The Fourth said, It seems that Filial love is rather a payment of a debt, an acknowledgement of a benefit, and shunning of ingratitude, than a free and natural affection, such as that of the father is. Besides, he who gives loves more than he who receives. Yea it seems that he who began to do good is obliged to continue it, that his work be not imperfect. Now fathers give not only being, which nevertheless is the foundation of well-being, but also usually education, and their riches acquired by their labours; induced so to do by the sole consideration of honesty, upon which their love being grounded is much more noble and admirable then that of children, which is commonly established upon the profit which they receive from their fathers.  
The Fifth said, 'Tis not so much the being a father or a son that causes the amity, as the being a good father or good son: otherwise all fathers should love their children in the same manner, and all children their fathers; which does not hold. Nature casts the seeds of it, co-habitation cultivates it, custom cherishes it, example fashions it, but above all, compassion enforces it. Thus fathers, seeing the weakness of their children has need of their aid, love them the more. And for this reason Grandfathers love their Nephews more tenderly than their own children. And when fathers through sicknesses or decrepit age become objects of compassion to their children, their kindness is redoubled; burr 'tis not usually so strong as that of fathers towards them.    

CONFERENCE XXXIII.  
I. Of those that walk in their sleep. II. Which is the most excellent Moral Virtue.  

I. Of those that walk in sleep.  
SLeep-walkers, called by the Greeks Hypnobatae, are such, as, rising out of their beds in the night, walk about in their sleep, and do the same things as if they were awake; then return to bed again, and think not that they were out of it unless in a dream. This affection is ranked under the symptoms of the animal faculty, and particularly of the common sense; and though it be not a disease, yet it seems in some sort to be against nature. For since men sleep for the resting of their senses and motion, and wake to exercise the same, whatever hinders and altars the one or the other, as to move when we should rest, is against nature. And if it be strange persons remain stupid when they are awake, as Exstaticks do, 'tis no less to see a man in sleep do as much, or more than if he were awake. I ascribe the natural causes hereof, 1. To the Imagination which receives the impression of objects, no less during sleep then waking; yea it represents them to itself much greater than they are; as it happened to him whose leg being become paralytical in his sleep, he dreamed that he had a leg of stone. Now these species being strong act so powerfully upon the Imagination of the Hypnobatae, that they constrain them to move and go towards the things represented therein. For though sense be hindered in sleep, yet motion is not, as appears by Respiration, which is always free; and by infants who stir in their mother's belly though they sleep continually. For the hinder part of the head, destinated to motion, is full of abundance of spirits, especially at the beginning of the Spinal Marrow, where there is a very apparent Cavity which cannot be stopped by vapours, as the anterior part of the head is, in which the organs of the senses are, which being stopped by vapours can have no perception during sleep. Wherefore 'tis groundless to say, with Aristotle, that sleep-walkers see as well as if they were awake; for 'tis impossible for one not awake to see, because visible objects make a more lively impression in their organ then any other; and a man asleep is not distinguished from another but by cessation of the sense of seeing. For one may Hear, Taste, Smell and Touch, without waking, but not See. 2. The thick and tenacious vapours seizing upon the brain, and obstructing its outlets, contribute much to this effect. For since the smoke of Tobacco is sometimes kept in our bodies two whole days, the same may happen to the gross and viscous vapours raised from the humours or aliments▪ 3. The particular constitution of their bodies is of some moment towards it, as an active, hot, dry and robust temper, a great quantity of subtle and brisk spirits, quickness of wit, a habit & custom of doing some action; as the Postilion who saddled, bridled, and rid his horse, asleep, and after making some careers brought him back to the Stable.  
The Second said, Though, according to, Aristotle in the 5. Book of the Generation of Animals, there is some difference between a dream and this affection which causes men to walk in their sleep; because (saith he) a dream is when the sleeper takes that for true which is presented to him, though it be not so. But when one dreams that he is in a place, and is there indeed, and doth really that which he imagines; 'tis rather a vision then a dream. Nevertheless methinks their extraordinary motions may as well be referred to dreams as any other motions which are made in sleep, considering that they come from the same cause, are made by the same organs, and differ not but in degree. The one being made by a bare representation of the species, and the other by a strong impression. So that 'tis no more wonder to see a man rise out of his bed, walk, get upon the ridge of a house, climb a tree, and do other like things without waking; then 'tis so see another dreamer speak in his sleep, laugh, cry, stir his arms and legs; both of them being led thereunto by the same means.  
The Third said, He wondered not so much to see a man walk in his sleep, considering that 'tis ordinary enough to those which travel, provided they walk in a plain and even way; as Galen records to have happened to himself, he having gone almost a league in that manner, and not waking till he stumbled at the foot of a tree. But he wondered (indeed) how they performed their actions better in the night then in the day, and with more courage, and wake not during those violent motions and stir. The cause whereof is, as I conceive, that being awake they have a Reason which contradicts their Imagination and Appetite, and which having an eye over all their actions, the same are not so sure because they are less free in sleep, at which time the faculties of the Understanding being, as 'twere, consopited, the others are carried towards their objects with more certainty than when they are controlled and restrained by that superior faculty; as we see servants are more brisk in their motions when they are out of their master's presence. They act also with more boldness, because having no knowledge of the present dangers they do not apprehend the same. Which is observed in fools and children, who do themselves less hurt in dangers because they apprehend them less. Lastly, the cause why they wake not during those great motions, although they swim over rivers, proceeds from the great quantity of those thick and glutinous vapours which stop the pores serving to the commerce of the spirits during the long time that they are dissipating; according as 'tis observed in drunkards or those that have taken somniferous medicaments, who by reason of the excessive vapours of the wine or drugs awake not, whatever be done to them. Whence the melancholy temper is most prone to this affection; because black choler which hath the consistence of pitch, sends its gross vapours up to the brain, and they are the most difficult to be resolved.  
The Fourth said, If men left themselves to be conducted by their natural inclination without making so many reviews and reflections upon what they do, their actions would be much better and surer. For as where two Masters are, neither is obeyed; so both the superior and inferior appetite striving to command in man, neither the one nor the other is perfectly master. Besides, 'tis an established order of nature, that things which have most proprieties and faculties have less certainty; those which have most certainty have fewest proprieties. Thus the Swallow makes its nest with more certainty than the Architect doth a house. The Vine more assuredly makes the Grape than the Swallow its nest; the stone more infallibly descends towards its centre than the Vine-makes the Grape; because a stone hath only the first step of being; the Vine besides hath a Vegetative being, and the Swallow a Sensitive; but Man, who besides all these degrees hath Reason, endeavours to make use of all these several Utensils, and consequently makes use of none imperfection; as he who is skilled in sundry Crafts discharges not any so well as he who addicts himself but to one. Now whilst a man is awake, the variety of objects and of the powers which are moved in him hinder him from performing so perfect an action; as when all the other faculties are bound up by sleep, the sensitive alone remains mistress.  
The Fifth said, As there is but one strait line, and infinite crooked, so there is but one right manner of acting, and infinite oblique. The right line is, that a man perform all his animal functions only awake, the vital and natural as well asleep as awake. Deviation from this rule happens a thousand several ways. One is asleep when he should wake, another is unquiet when he should sleep. In a third, inquietudes are only in the spirits, the body remaining asleep. In some both the spirits and the body are agitated, only the judgement and reason are bound up. Some Morbific causes go so far as to inflame the spirits, whence comes the Ephemera; others more vehement altar and corrupt the humours, whence the diversity of Fevers, and amongst them, Frenzies, in which you see bodies scarce able to turn in the bed, cast themselves out at a window, run through the streets, and hard to be restrained by the strongest. So great a force hath the soul when she gets the head of Reason, which served as Bit and Cavesson to her. Indeed if Naturalists say true, that a spirit is able to move not only a Celestial Sphere, but the whole world itself, were it not restrained by a greater power; 'tis no wonder if the same spirit have a great power over a body which it informs, when it hath shaken off the dominion of Reason, as it happens in sleep-walkers.  
The Sixth said, 'Tis probable that the more causes contribute to one and the same effect, the more perfectly it is done. Man being awake, hath not only the action of all his parts, but that of all his senses strengthened by the concourse of spirits renders his parts much more strong and vigorous then when his is asleep. Reason assisted by daily experience avoucheth that he acts better waking then sleeping: and yet we see the contrary in the persons under consideration. Wherefore their agitation cannot be attributed to the soul alone which informs the body, but to some spirit good or bad, whether such as they call aerial Hobgoblins, or others; which insinuating into the body, as into a ship whose Pilot is asleep, governs and guides it at pleasure; and as a thing abandoned to the first occupant, carries it where it lists, and then returns it to its former place. Witness the man mentioned by Levinus Lemnius, who walked with his feet against the Rafters, and his head downward, in his sleep: the cause of which cannot, with likelihood, be attributed to our spirits how light and aerial soever they may be.   

II. Which is the most excellent Moral Virtue  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That they who speak best in all professions, do not act always so; saying and doing seem to be so balanced, that the one cannot be lifted high without depressing the other. Which was the cause that the Architect who spoke wonders was passed by, and he chosen who only said that he would do what the other had spoken. Hence it is we so often desire that things could speak of themselves. Justice would come in another garb then as she is painted, blindfold, with her scales and sword. Fortitude would display other effects than that pillar which she is made to carry upon her shoulder; and Temperance other examples then that of pouring Water into her Wine. Prudence would have other attire and allurements than those which her Looking-glass represents. In brief, the whole train and Court of the four Cardinal Virtues, Magnificence, Liberality, Patience, Humility, Obedience, Friendship, and all the other Moral Virtues, would set forth all their attractives, and make it confessed that they are all charming and so linked together, that who so would be happy must be possessed of them all. But since I am obliged to give the pre-eminence to one, I shall prefer Liberality, which wears the Epithet of Royal, and is the aptest to win the hearts of all the world.  
The Second said, All the Virtues here in question touching their preeminences, accepting you for Judges of their Controversy, in hope you will do them Justice, seem already to condemn themselves, by giving their voice implicitly to Justice, whom they implore as their Sovereign. Moreover, in the Scripture the name alone of Justice comprehends all the other Virtues, and he is termed Just who is possessed of them all. Aristotle styles it, All Virtue, and saith, with his Master Plato, that 'tis more bright and admirable than the Daystar. 'tis the more excellent, for that it especially considers the good of others, and not its own particular. For 'tis defined, and a constant steadfast will of rendering to every one that which belongs to him; not that 'tis the Will, which is a Faculty, and being capable of contraries, can do well and ill; but because 'tis the noblest habit of this Faculty, therefore it retains its name. So the most excellent habit of the Understanding, whereby to know the first Principles, is called Intellect. Pythagoras compares Justice to the number of Eight. For as this is the most perfect number, and hath most equality, all its parts being equal; so Justice is the perfectest of all Virtues, because it gives them their equality and measure in which their perfection consists. And like as the most perfect state of our Health consists in the perfect equality of our Humours, which for this reason is called, the temperament according to Justice; so the most perfect state of the Soul consists in this habit which gives equality and mediocrity to all our virtuous actions. But though Justice be the ornament of Virtues, yet it is particularly so of Kings, and therefore ours, among all the Virtues whereof he hath taken possession, has particularly reserved to himself the title of JUST.  
The Third said, I account Prudence not only the most excellent but the sole Virtue; yea, the condition without which all other Virtues lose their name. The Philosophers were not contented to establish it for one of the Cardinal Virtues, they make it the salt which preserves and gives taste to all the rest, without which they would be disagreeable, yea, odious to all the world. For too exact Justice carries the name of highest Injustice; Fortitude becomes Violence, and Temperance applies itself ill, without Prudence. Hence it hath chosen for its Object Reason alone, which it divides to the other Virtues. So that a Man who does all his actions, having Reason alone for his guide, shall be called prudent; but other Virtues do not regard reason further than as it leads them to a particular thing. Now when Reason renders to every one what pertains to him, this Prudence is called Justice: When the same Reason moderates the Passions, this Prudence is called Temperance; and when it passes above all dangers, 'tis called Fortitude. So that the Objects of the three other Virtues being good, only as they partake of that of Prudence, this must be without comparison the most excellent. The Ancients for this purpose represented it by an Eye, to show that this Virtue hath the same pre-eminence over the rest, which the Eye hath among the parts of the Body.  
The Fourth said, If place makes any thing for the nobleness of Virtues, Prudence will have the advantage, since it resides in the noblest Faculty of Man, the Understanding. But if we regard the end of Moral Virtues, which is civil felicity, and from whence alone their nobleness is to be measured, as the means by their end; 'tis certain that an honest Friendship founded upon Virtue is the most noble, because more proper than any other to procure that felicity, yea, alone sufficient to obtain it. For if all were perfect Friends, Justice would not be needful, none denying to another what belonged to him; and if all were just, there would be no necessity of using force. Moreover, of all the Virtues, there's none but Amity alone which hath no Excess; this shows that it is wholly excellent. How much ought we to love? infinitely if it be possible. Justice hath an excess, which is severity; but because it follows it in dignity, 'tis no Vice. Prudence, Temperance, and the other Virtues which come after, have their vicious excesses. This Virtue of Friendship is the most rare, being found only amongst good people, who are so few, that all Antiquity scarce affords ten couple of perfect Friends. A scarcity which attests its value. For we must beware of comprising under the name of this Friendship the Passion of Love, or profitable and delightful Friendship, which have nothing of it besides the name. Because true Friendship considers only another, but the other virtues have only self-reflections, though they make show otherwise.    

CONFERENCE XXXIV.  
I. Of Lycanthropy. II. Of the way to acquire Nobility.  

I. Of Lycanthropy.  
THere is a sort of Wolves called by the Greeks Monolyci, and by Aristotle, Monopiri, that is to say, solitary, never preying but alone, great lovers of Man's Blood; we call them Garoux, possibly because they wander and roam about the fields, as the Greeks name those Lycanthropis who are possessed with that kind of Madness which makes them do the same as if they were Wolves indeed. Such is that people of Livonia, which, as Olaus in his Northern History relates, change themselves into Wolves, and on Christmas day exercise many cruelties even upon little children; and those who, in our time, confess that they have put on the shapes of Wolves, Lions, Dogs, and other Animals, that they might exercise their cruelty upon Men with impunity. For I am not of their mind who think such transformation is made by natural causes. To which neither can that be attributed, which the Scripture relates of Nebuchadonozor K. of Babylon, who became an Ox, and ate the grass of the field for the space of nine years, and afterwards resumed his former shape; that the rods of the Egyptian Magicians were turned into Serpents, as well as that of Moses; that Lot's Wife was changed into a Statue of Salt; no more than the most fabulous metamorphoses of Niobe into stone, Lycaon, Demarchus, and Moeris, into Wolves; the companions of Ulysses into sundry Animals by the Enchantress Circe, those of Diomedes into Birds, Apuleius into an Ass; that an Egyptian Lady became a Mare, and was restored into her former shape by S. Macarius the Hermit, as the Historian Vincent reports in his 18. Book. Seeing a Rational Soul can not naturally animate the Body of a Wolf. The least distemper of our Brain suffices to hinder the Soul from exercising its functions, and can it exercise them in that of a Beast? 'Tis more credible that some evil Spirit supplies the place, and acts the part of the Sorcerer who is sound asleep in his Bed, or in some other place apart from the commerce of Men. As it happened to the Father of Praestantius, mentioned by St. Augustine in his Book, De Civitate Dei, who awaking out of a long and deep sleep, imagined himself to have been turned into a Horse, and carried provisions upon his back to Shoulders; which he obstinately believed, though his Son assured him that he had not stirred out of bed. Nevertheless the thing was verified by witnesses; but it was done by an evil Spirit, who on the one side personated him abroad, and on the other so strongly impressed those species upon his Fancy, that he could not be dissuaded from the error. For otherwise, how should the Sorcerer reduce his Body into so small a volumn as the form of a Rat, Mouse, Toad, and other such Animals into which it sometimes is turned. Now if it happens that the wound which the Devil receives under that form, is found upon the same part of the Sorcerers Body; this may be attributed to the action of the same evil Spirit, who can easily leave his blow upon such part as he pleases of the Body which he possesses. For want of which possession, all his designs upon those whom he would injure become ineffectual notwithstanding the imposture of all their waxen Images. But if 'tis the Sorcerer himself that hath the form of a Wolf, either he clothes himself in a Wolf's skin, or else the Devil frames a like Body of Vapours and Exhalations, and other materials (which he knows how to choose and can gather together) with which he involves the Sorcerer's Body, and fits the same in such manner, that the Eye of the Beast answers to that of the Man; and so the other parts, according to the measure requisite to represent a Wolf. Or else that subtle Spirit deludes our Eyes.  
The Second said, If the Proverb be true, That one Man is oftentimes a Wolf to another, we need not recur to extraordinary causes to find Men-wolves. Now the word Wolf is here taken for mischievous, because the wealth of the first Ages consisting in Cattle, they feared nothing so much as the Wolf. As for the causes of this brutish malady, whereby a Man imagines himself a Wolf, or is so indeed, they are of three sorts; the biting of a mad Wolf, the atrabilarious humour, or the Imagination perverted. It seems at first very strange, that a drop of foam entering into the flesh of a Man at an orifice made by the point of a tooth, should have the power to convert all the humours into its own nature. But seeing the stroke of a Scorpion which is not perceivable to the sight, kills the strongest person, that admiration ceases at the comparison of a thing no less marvellous. For 'tis no more wonder that the humour which issues from an Animal imprints its Image other where, then that it kills an other. When the foam dropped from a mad Wolf produces its like with its furious spirits, it doth nothing but what other animate bodies with other circumstances, do. Thus the kernel of the Pear or Apple, which subverts our Senses, (called therefore malum insanum) so well contains in power the Pear or Appletree which produced it, that it reproduces another wholly alike; yea, the salt of Sage, Margerum, Baum, and some others being sown, produces the like Plants without slip or seed. The atrabilarious humour sending up black and glutinous fumes into the brains of melancholy people, not only make them to believe that the species represented thereby to them are as true as what they see indeed, but impress an invincible obstinacy in their Minds; which is proof against all reasons to the contrary, because Reason finds the Organs no longer rightly disposed to receive its dictates. And if he who sees a stick bowed in the water can hardly rectify that crooked species in his Common Sense, by reasons drawn from the Optics, which tell him that the visual ray seems crooked by reason of the diversity of the medium; how can he whose Reason is not free be undeceived, and believe that he is not a Wolf, according to the species which are in his Fancy? But can the Fancy alone do all this? He who feigned, and frequently pretended that he was one-eyed, by the power of Imagination became so indeed; and many others whom Fancy alone makes sick, and the fear of dying kills, sufficiently show its power, which causes that these distracted people persuading themselves that they are Wolves, do the actions of Wolves, tearing Men and Beasts, and roaming about chiefly in the night, which symbolizes with their Humours. Not but that a fourth cause, (namely, evil spirits) interposes sometimes with those natural causes, and particularly with that gloomy black Humuor, which for that reason Saint Jerome calls Satan's bath.  
The Third said, That besides those causes, the food taken from some parts of Aliments contributes much to hurt the Imagination of Men in such sort, that they account themselves really brutes. Thus a Maid of Breslaw in Silesia having eaten the brain of a Cat, so strongly conceited herself a Cat, that she ran after every Mouse that appeared before her. A Spaniard having eaten the brain of a Bear, thought himself to be one. Another that had very often drunk Goat's milk, fed upon grass like that Animal. Another who had lived long upon Swine's blood, rolled himself in the mire as if he had been truly a Hogg. And 'tis held, that especially the arterial blood of Animals, as containing the purest of their Spirits, produceth such an effect. But to believe that these changes can be real, is repugnant to Reason, and the order which God hath established in Nature; in which being nothing can act beyond its bounds, 'tis impossible for Devils to have the power to make a transmutation of substances. For though they have some power upon natural bodies, and even upon Men, to try the good, and punish the wicked; yet the same is so limited that as they cannot create a Hand-worm, so much less can they change substances and transform them into others, which were to annihilate and create both together. Besides, 'tis repugnant in regard of the Form, which cannot inform and actuate any matter but that which is prepared and disposed for it. Wherefore these transformations are either to be attributed to the Fancy alone, which being perverted makes some conceit themselves not only beasts, but glass, earth, & other absurd things; or else they are to be deduced from the depravation of manners. For, as in the Heroical State Men approached the Deity, so in that of freity they come near to the nature of beasts, differing therein according to each Vice. In regard of their voluptuousness the Companions of Ulysses were accounted Swine; for his Cruelty, one Lycaon a Wolf; for their voices and thieveries, the Companions of Diomedes transformed into Birds; the Learned taking that metaphorically which the vulgar doth literally.   

II. Of the means to acquire Nobility.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, There are as many ways of acquiring Nobility as there are several kinds of it. That which comes by descent, and is called Civil, is not acquired, but only preserved and upheld by the resemblance and correspondence of our laudable actions with those of our Forefathers: It begins in him who is ennobled, increases in the Children, is perfected in the Nephews, and lies in the common opinion, that the generous beget a generous offspring. That which comes from Riches is acquired by industry and good husbandry. That which attends Ecclesiastical Dignities comes from Learning, Piety, and Favour. Thus the Cardinals are Princes, and the Nephews of Popes are Sovereigns, in Italy. The Doctoral, which extends to Physicians and Lawyers, the Body of whom the Emperors call the Seminary of Dignities, (declaring them Counts, that is, Counsellors and Assessors of Kings) after exercising their charge twenty years, comes from study, knowledge, and experience. The Military, from Courage and Valour. That which is obtained by the grace or favour of a Prince, whether it be by granting a Fief or Manor, which alone ennobles its possessor, or not, is acquired by merit, and the services done to him. They who desist from all mechanic and sordid action may become noble by virtue of the Prince's Letters. That which comes from the Custom of places is obtained by administration of the chief Magistracies in a City, to which the Officers are admitted by Election, as the Capitouls or Sheriffs at Tholouse, and at Poitiers, and Maires; and Scabins were ennobled by the privilege of King Charles V. where we must not confound the ancient Chivalry, which are the Gentlemen, with the newly ennobled, who may indeed be called Nobles, but not Gentlemen.  
The Second said, The Sacred History gives the first Nobility to Hunters, when it saith that Nimrod, who was the first King upon Earth, was a mighty Hunter. Aristotle gives it to such as excel in any Art or Exercise, whom he saith are so many Kings in their profession. Many, to the Inventors of things profitable to Humane Society; and indeed Antiquity placed such in the number of the gods. Experience causes us to add a fourth sort of persons, whose Bodies, or Minds, or both, are endued with such gentle and winning perfections, that in what ever condition they be, even the meanest, that they discover a connatural Nobility through it, and differ as much from the vulgar, as precious stones from others; (to use Ronsard's comparison) who saith, that when Deucalion and Pyrrha repaired mankind they threw precious stones to make the Nobility, and common stones, to repeople the world with the vulgar.  
The Fifth said, That true Nobility cannot be acquired but by arms, which are the only original of ancient Nobility. For since more hazards are to be undergone in war then in time of peace, it was necessary to sweeten the toil of arms by annexing Nobility more inseparably to them then to any other exercise: to the end, that the life of Warriors being usually shorter than that of others, by reason of the dangers whereto it is subject, they may, in recompense, live with more honour. Otherwise there's none but would prefer the shadow and ease of Cities before the travels and hardships of the Campaigne: whereas the most desirous of honour prefer above any thing that guerdon of warlike virtue which is in the hand of Sovereigns, who, as Solon saith, hold the life, honour, and estates of men, of whom they make some Deniers, others Millions, according as they dispose the same.  
The Fourth said, There's no true Nobility besides that of extraction, this being unanimously received in all States, yea amongst the most barbarous Nations. 'Tis for this reason designed by the Civilians, an Illustriousness of Lineage, and splendour of Ancestors, with succession of Coat-Armour and Images, conferred upon some person, and through him to his Family, by the Prince, Law or Custom, in reward of Virtues which are serviceable to the State and humane Society. And although such virtues are proper and particular to their Possessor; yet as the dishonour and infamy which follow Vices and Crimes reflect upon Descendants: so the Nobility which follows those virtuous actions, and is nothing else but the honour and reward which accompanies them, is diffused also to Posterity, and like the streams of Springs (less considerable in their original) is increased by time; and the more remote it is, the more it is esteemed; the highliest prized being that which is like Nilus, whose rise is unknown. Thus, the Athenians gloried that they were Autocthones, or sprung from the Earth; because their Nobility was so ancient, that they affirmed it impossible to assign the first Author of it: for which reason they wore golden Cockle-shells at their hair, because these Infects never relinquish the place of earth whence they took birth. As the Arcadian Nobleses wore Moons in their Hats, and the Romans Crescents upon their shoes, but for several ends; the former intimating thereby that they were a people as old as the Moon, and the latter denoting, by this figure of the changeable Moon, the inconstancy of Woman, which sometimes abases the most illustrious, and raises the most abject Families.  
The Fifth said, That Nobility depends not only on opinion, as they seem to conclude who have no other ground of it; but it hath its foundation in a solid and real cause, namely, in the proper merit and peculiar actions of every one. So that, to speak accurately, 'tis no more in the power of any one whatever to ennoble an unworthy and undeserving person, then to make a Hero illustrious in virtue of a vicious man, or a wise man of a fool. Nor doth it arise from riches, which though the ornament yet are not the cause of Nobility. For whereas a rich Yeoman is admitted to public Offices rather than a poor Gentleman; 'tis because the former having more to lose then the latter, hath also more interest in the preservation of the common good, and consequently is presumed more careful that all go well with it. Ease and occupation are of no more moment. For our first Father, from whom we derive our Nobility, and his Children, were Labourers; Noah was a Vine-dresser; Saul and David Kings of Israel, Shepherds; and at Venice, Florence, Genua, Luca, and other places of Italy, the Nobles are for the most part Merchants; though in other Countries that employment is derogatory to Nobility. For as 'tis not in our power to be born either of noble or mean Parents; so ought not either be imputed to us as commendable or blame-worthy; since praise and dishonour are rightly attributed to us only for what lies in our ability, as our good or evil actions do. For being 'tis no advantage to a blind man to have quicksighted parents, or to a gouty son to have a father of sound limbs, why should it be any to a wicked son to have an honest man to his father? on the contrary, it ought to turn to his reproach, that he hath not followed the way which he found already beaten. For as good wheat is oftentimes changed into Darnel, so the children of illustrious men are ordinarily lewd slip-strings; witness the children of Cicero, Aesop, Cimon, Socrates and Alcibiades. On the contrary, many times the greatest personages are the issues of the most infamous and abject. Wherefore the seeds of Nobility (namely our actions) being in ourselves, the most certain way of acquiring is to do such as are good and virtuous. True it is, those of war are most in esteem, because most persons are capable of them. Yet excellent civil actions ought to be accompanied with the good hap which may make them known and recommendable to the Prince; otherwise they are as a light hid under a bushel. But if all these conditions meet in any one whom the virtue of his Ancestors hath dignified to be of an illustrious Family; this excellency of descent renders his virtue more acceptable; and this Gentleman's condition is like that of a child upon a giant's shoulders, who sees all that the Giant sees, and also over his head. He hath all the Nobility of his Forefathers, and besides, that which is properly his own. To conclude, if the blood of our Ancestors is the body of Nobility, our virtue is the soul of it.    

CONFERENCE XXXV.  
I. Of feigned Diseases. II. Of regulating the Poor.  

I. Of feigned Diseases.  
AS man is the most wily of all creatures; so he best knows how to dissemble and represent another personage then what he is indeed. But external signs accompany and follow their effects as necessarily as they are preceded by their causes; he cannot so artificially cover his duplicity but it will appear, and his retentions betray themselves. It is as difficult to him to dissemble fear, anger, hatred, envy, and the other passions, when they are real, as to counterfeit them when they are not. The same may be said of Diseases as of the passions of the body. As 'tis almost impossible to dissemble a true Gout or a Fever; so 'tis very hard to feign a Disease when one is in perfect health. They who sergeant the same are of two sorts. People of quality, and Beggars. Of the first order are many Generals of Armies, who have feigned themselves sick, that they might surprise their enemies who supposed them in bed; and such as cover with malady that of cowardice; or do it to avoid being present at Assemblies. Thus Demosthenes pretended a Quinzy, that he might not plead against one accused of Defrauding the State, by whom he was corrupted with presents. Of the second sort are they who to avoid the labour common to others, or to cause themselves to be pitied, make semblance of having, one a Leprosy, another the Falling-sickness, a third the Jaundice, and infinite other maladies which they have not, or having some light ones amplify and continue the same. Such was the invention of an Italian Soldier of late years, who feigned himself troubled with certain fits caused by the biting of a Tarantula, crying out of extraordinary pain, except when the Musicians played; for than he fell to dancing after the same manner as he had heard those use to do who have been hurt by that creature. Physic, to which alone pertains the discerning of these feigned Diseases, employs, to that end, this maxim of Geometry, that a right line serves for a measure not only of strait things, but also of oblique. So the perfect knowledge of real Diseases enables us to find out counterfeit. 'Twas by this means Galen discovered the imposture of a Slave, who to excuse himself from following his Master in a long Voyage, because he was loath to leave his Mistress who was at Rome, made his cheeks swell with the root of Thapsia, and pale with the fume of Cummin. For Galen seeing no other signs agree with these two, cured him only with a Refrigerative, whereas a true defluxion required other remedies.  
The Second said, Maladies of body or mind are feigned by people, to decline some burdensome charge and commission, or some evident danger. Thus Ulysses counterfeited himself foolish, to avoid going to the Trojan war; and David being pursued by Saul made himself appear distracted to King Achish. The young wife mentioned by Martial, being married to an old man, counterfeited the Hysterical Passions which she found a way to deceive her jealous husband. Such pretences are sometimes used to retard an execution of death, or else in a civil matter to be freed from prison; and many times those things which afford signs to the Physicians are so tightly ordered, that the most subtle are overreached. One makes his Urine black with Ink, or red with Ochre, or yellow with Saffron; another applies the root of Ranunculus to his groin, or some other Emunctory, to counterfeit a Carbuncle; another provokes vomiting by some Emetic, which by that means will cause extraordinary agitation in his Pulse, and give appearences of a pestilential Fever; or else make so straight a ligature on the upper part of his arm that his Pulse will not beat at all; as Matthiolus reports an ancient Physician served to confirm the fraud of a Mountebank who used that trick to make people believe that being almost dead he was revived by his Antidote. But the most ordinary impostures of this kind are those of Beggars; some of whom fume their faces with Brimstone that they may appear pale. Others rub themselves with the flower of Broom, or the seed of Carthamus, to seem yellow; or else black themselves with Oil and Soot, to appear struck with Lightning. Which disguisements are easily discovered by rubbing them with Soap; for it takes off all the superficial colours, and leaves none but the natural caused by the humours. Others get some body to make a hole near their ears, or some other place, and blow strongly thereinto between the flesh and the skin, that so being puffed up they may be taken to have a Dropsy. One of the hardest cheats to be discovered was that of a Juggler of Flanders, who every morning, having first stopped his fundament very exactly, swallowed down half a pound of Butter and some Quicksilver after it: which put him into such hideous motions and gestures, that every one judged him possessed. At night he unstopped himself, and voided his Devil backwards.  
The Third said, That a Fever may be caused by rubbing the Pulse with Oil in which the horned Beetle hath been boiled, or by applying Garlic to the fundament. And that the Herbs, Spear-Crowfoot, Bryony, Turbith, the juice of Tithymal or Spurge, Yew, and many other caustick simples, served them to make Ulcers, which are easily discernible to be artificial. But of all feigned maladies, the hardest to be known, and the easiest to counterfeit, is Folly, like that of Solon, Brutus and many others; for the most incurable folly is that which imprints fewest signs upon the body; and there are stark fools who have intervals, during which their minds are as clear and serene as the wisest.  
The Fourth said, 'Tis usual for those who complain of one another, after a scuffle, to pretend themselves not only more injured than they really were, but also wounded when they are not; but especially women big with child are apt to be guilty in this kind. He said, that a certain lewd fellow having outraged one of his companious almost unto death, yet so that there appeared no wound or impression of cudgel or other weapon upon his body; for that he had beaten him with a long sack filled with gravel; which not making the contusions suddenly apparent, he caused him to be visited and searched immediately, and himself made greater complaints than he. So that had it not been for the wile of the Surgeon who sileneed this bawler by threatening to trepan his head for the easing of these pains whereof he complained, the Judges were hugely at a loss whom to charge with the wrong. Which shows how difficult it is to distinguish true maladies from feigned.   

II. Of regulating the Poor.  
Upon the second point, it was said, That there are three sorts of poor, some really are, and so call themselves; others call themselves so but are not; and others who though they are so yet do not speak of it. The first are the poor, become infirm through disease, age, or other inconvenience; for whose relief and support Hospitals are designed. The second are the strong, who cannot be termed poor so long as they have arms to gain their livings. The third are the bashful poor. Their disorder is general; but that of the strong hath most dangerous effects. And inasmuch as an evil must be known before remedied, it may be said that these Beggars are the most dangerous pest of States; whether they be considered in reference to God, us, or themselves. They speak not of God but to blaspheme him; they abuse his Sacraments, and are professed breakers of his Commandments. For God said to man, Thou shalt eat thy bread in the sweat of thy countenance; but they devour the bread of others without doing any work. There shall be no Beggar amongst you, saith God; but they make a trade of it, and come even to the Altars, to interrupt people's devotions. In respect of us, they are the ordinary Seminary of the Plague, by their nastiness and infections, which they bring even to our doors; of war too, it being always easy, upon the least discontent, to list such people, who are ready to do any thing you will put them upon, without fear of punishment, from which poverty is exempted; of Famine also, these idle bellies, and unprofitable burdens of the earth, being as unapt to cultivate it and other arts which bring good things to men, as they are insatiable in devouring them. Yet they do less hurt to others then to themselves, leading a dead life, yea a thousand times worse than death, through the miseries into which their idleness involves them. Now it imports the public no less to remedy their slothfulness, than it doth the humane body to suffer a paralytical member, under pretext that it is less noble than the rest. I conceive therefore that 'tis fit to constrain sturdy Beggars to work, by keeping them close, and chastising them; yea, to send them to the Galleys, according to the Ordinance of Francis I. rather than suffer their disorders.  
The Second said, That Hospitality towards the poor hath been ever in so great esteem, that Pagan antiquity made a principal title of it to the greatest of their Gods; and conceived them parallel crimes, to cast the Altar out off the Temple, and to remove mercy out of man's breast, it being so proper to him that it is therefore termed Humanity; as inseparable as his very being. Nor is there any thing in the world but invites us thereunto by its example. The Guardian Angels and Celestial Intelligences take care of men; the soul immediately sends an affluence of blood and spirits to a wounded part; the principles of nature, how incomplete soever they be, cannot endure privation, which is the image of Poverty: and the Celestial bodies include in their circumference, warm by their motion, enliven by their light, and adorn by their influences, all the inferior bodies. The Principal amongst them, the Sun, the poor-man's fire, and the type of charity, communicates his light and his heat indifferently to all the world. The Elements use violence, and destroy themselves, rather than endure a vacuity in nature. Metals, the richer they are, the more they are dilatable. Plants which cannot uphold themselves are propped up by others more robust. In brief, all Beasts are frighted at the sight of those of their kind, if they be dead or in any misery. Suidas tells us that there is a bird called Cyncle, which being unable to build a nest by reason of its weakness, is welcome into those of others. But though every thing should not preach this doctrine to us, yet seeing men, how different soever in their belief, all agree in having care of the poor; that Charity is to outlive all other Christian virtues; and that our Lord in his sentence of eternal life and death was pleased to use no other reason then this of having given or denied alms to the poor, whom he calls himself; all this would sufficiently manifest that no greater care ought to be had in any case then in this.  
The Third said, that the point in hand was not so much to commend as to determine Charity, and to know whether of the two sorts of Alms (mentioned by S. Austin) Bread, or Discipline, is to be given to every poor person, the latter being oftimes more profitable for them then the former, which, as a Lacedaemonian told Diogenes, frequently does hurt in stead of good; for the giving to a stout Beggar encourages him to accustomed laziness. But on the other side, being Charity is not suspicious, it seems that it ought to be little material to the giver of an Alms, whether the receiver be worthy of it or no, provided he give it with a good intention, according to his power, and without vanity, so highly blamed by our Saviour.  
The Fourth said, That the poor aught to be left as they are; and 'tis enough for us that we relieve them with our Alms, according to our ability. Experience shows that it has been a fruitless attempt in our days to confine and discipline them; whatever care could be used by such as were entrusted therein. But since Poverty is no vice, why should it be punished with imprisonment? Besides, our Lord having told us that we shall always have the poor with us, implies that there will always be poor. Zea, were the thing possible, yet it ought not to be put in execution, since charity will become extinguished by losing its object. For present objects have most power upon us in all cases, and 'tis not credible that he who scarce feels himself touched with compassion at the sight of a wretch languish at his door, would think of the poor when they no longer occurred to his view.  
The Fifth said, That although we are always to have the poor with us, yet 'tis not thence to be inferred that Begging ought not to be restrained, should the one include the other, as it doth not; no more than 'tis a good consequence that because scandal must necessarily come to pass, therefore 'tis not lawful to hinder it; or that because the good designs of pious persons which have laboured in this godly work, have not succeeded in one time, therefore they cannot at another. But to show how easy it is to take order for the regulation of the poor, 'tis manifest that almost all foreign Countries have made provision therein; many whereof, when they come to fetch away our corn, justly wonder how we suffer such a multitude of Beggars, considering what order they take with them in their public penury. Yea, the City of Lions, whose territory is none of the most fertile of France, and by its example divers other Cities, have already made provision for them. I conceive, therefore, that 'tis easy not only for this populous City of Paris, but for this whole Kingdom, to do the same. Now that may be applied to this regulation which Aesop said to those with whom Xanthus laid a wager, that he would drink up the whole Sea; namely, that he could not do it, unless they first stopped the course of all the rivers which empty themselves thereinto: so neither is it possible ever to regulate the flux and reflux of poor which come by shoals from all parts of France into this gulf, or rather Parision sea, without prohibiting them entrance into the same; which cannot be done Christianly, nor indeed politicly, without taking care for redress of their miseries, in those places which they abandon. To effect which, we must imitate Physicians, assuage the most urgent symptoms, and remove the concomitant cause, yet not forgetting the antecedent, nor the general remedies; since, as Aristotle saith, he that would purge the eye must purge the head. The robust poor must every one be sent to the place of his birth, if he knows it, or will tell it: by which means the burden will become lighter being divided: there they must be distinguished according to sex, age, conditions, ability of body and mind, capacity and industry, that so they may be distributed into the several employments whereof they shall be found capable; with absolute prohibition not to beg or wander from one place to another without permission in writing from him who hath the charge of them, under the penalty of the whip; as also the people being forbidden, under a fine, to give Alms elsewhere then at the places appointed for that purpose. The children of either sex must be put out for some certain number of years to Masters and Mistresses that will take charge of them. Likewise such fellows as understand any Mystery or Craft shall be disposed of to Masters; to whom, upon that account, and to all those who shall have the care of such poor, shall be granted the most privileges and immunities, both Royal and Civil, and of Communities, that the rest of the inhabitants of the place can allow. Out of the body of which inhabitants shall be chosen, from time to time, the most considerable persons to govern them, who shall not be admitted to the highest Offices without having first passed through this. Such as are able to do nothing else shall be employed in public works, repairing of Bridges, Banks, Causeys, or Buildings, at the charge of the Proprietors. And, to the end, that all these poor may find a livelihood, they shall buy all their Victuals one of another, and have certain Counters instead of money peculiarly current amongst themselves. Aged persons incapable of labour shall have the care of the little children. Such as are fit to travel shall be sent to the Plantations of New France. But all this with such restrictions and modifications as the circumstances of each place shall require. This design will be much furthered by new inventions, by working at Mills, by combing old wool and stuffs; by cleansing the streets by night, and many other occupations.    

CONFERENCE XXXVI.  
I. Of the tying of the Point. II. Which is the greatest of all Vices.  

I. Of the tying of the Point.  
THis obstacle, proceeding from the jealousy of Corrivals, or Covetousness of Parents, is a Ligature, by which, with certain words pronounced during the nuptial benediction, a man becomes incapable of rendering to his wife the legitimate duty of Marriage. This kind of enchantment is, as all others, of the Devil's invention, who bearing an irreconcilable hatred to man, endeavours all he can to hinder the fruit of generation and of the Sacrament of marriage, by which man acquires that immortality in his species and his successors, which that evil spirit caused him to lose in his individual. 'Tis one of his old impostures. Virgil speaks of it in his eighth Eclogue, where he makes mention of three knots made with three ribbons of different colours, and of certain words of enchantment. S. Augustine, in the second Book, and twentieth Chapter, of Christian Doctrine, declaims against these Sorceries. Our Salic Law, tit. 22. sect. 4. makes mention of some Sorcerers who hinder issue by ligatures. In our time this kind of Maleficium hath been so common that it would be ridiculous to call the experience of it in question. But since the author of it is the spirit of darkness, 'tis no wonder that we see not a whit in the inquiry of its causes.  
The Second said, That he could not attribute this impediment of generation to charms and enchantments, but rather to the power of the Imagination, which is of great moment in this case; as we see also in Love or Hatred, which, though by several ways, render a man incapable of this action. For if one be solicited by a woman whom he thinks unhandsome and hates, he cannot satisfy her, because sadness makes his spirits to retire. Another being surprised with the enjoyment of some rare beauty, becomes alike impotent, because joy dissipates the same spirits. The desire of doing well, and the fear of failing, are also frequently obstacles to it; witness the impotence of Ovid, Regnier, the man mentioned in Petronius, the Count spoken of by Montague, and many others. Now these passions making an impression in the Fancy, disturb and hinder it from moving the Appetite, and consequently the motive faculties, depriving them by this means of their ordinary functions.  
The Third said, There are two sorts of Impotence, one natural, and the other supernatural. The first happens two ways; either through want of matter, which is the geniture and spirits, or through defect of emission. The former (not to mention the parts serving to generation) happens through the extinction of virility, and that by reason of old age, sickness, violent exercises, aliments or medicaments cold and dry, and generally by all causes which dissolve the strength, and dissipate the spirits and flatuosities, as Rue, according to Aristotle. The second defect proceeds from the obstruction of the Vessels, or from a Resolution or Palsy befalling the foresaid parts. That which is supernatural is acknowledged according to the Canon by the practice of the Church, which ordains the two parties to be unmarried, if at the end of three years they cannot undo this Gordian knot in the presence of seven witnesses. It is made by Sorceries and charms; which indeed have no action of themselves; yet when men make use of them, the Devil (according to a compact either tacit or express) acts with them employing to that end the natural things whereof he hath perfect knowledge, and hinders generation in two manners; either by disturbing the fancy with some images and species of hatred and aversion; or else by suspending the generative faculty by the dissipation of flatuosities, retention of spirits, and concretion of the geniture. Now natural impotence is discerned from supernatural, because the first is always alike towards all sort of persons, but the second is only in reference to some particular Woman, the Man being well enough disposed for all others. But change is to no purpose, when the impotence is natural.  
The Fourth said, That Ligature is a subverting of the order established in order, by which all things are destinated to some particular action, and are lead to what is suitable for them. 'Tis an impediment whereby the actions of agents as it were repressed and restrained, and 'tis either Physical or Magical. The former proceeds from a particular Antipathy between two Agents, the stronger whereof by some occult contrary property, extinguishes and mortifies the virtue of the weaker. Thus Garlic or a Diamond hinder the Loadstone from attracting Iron; Oil keeps Amber from drawing straw, and the spirits of the Basilisk fix those of a Man. The second, of which kind is the tying of the Point, is done by Magic, which thereunto employs certain words, images, circles, characters, rings, sounds, numbers, ointments, philtres, charms, imprecations, sacrifices, points, and other such diabolical inventions; but especially barbarous names without signification, yea, sometimes to that degree of impiety as to make use of sacred things, as the divine appellations, prayers, and verses taken out of the Holy Scripture, which it profanes in its charms and fascinations. Because, as Saint Augustine saith, the Devils cannot deceive Christians, and therefore cover their poison with a little honey, to the end that the bitterness being disguised by the sweetness, it may be the more easily swallowed, to their ruin. These Magical Ligatures, if we may credit those who treat of them, are almost infinite. For there are some particularly against Thiefs, restraining them from carrying away any thing out of the house; others that hinder Merchants from buying or selling in certain Fairs, and retain ships in the Port so that they cannot get out to sea either by wind or oars; or keep a mill from grinding, the fire from burning, the water from wetting, the Earth from producing fruits and upholding buildings, swords and all sorts of weapons, and even lightning itself from doing mischief, dogs from biting or barking, the most swift and savage beasts from stirring or committing hurt, and the blood of a wound from flowing. Yea, if we believe Virgil, there are some which draw down the Moon to the Earth, and effect other like wonders, by means, for the most part, ridiculous, or profane. Which nevertheless, I conceive, are to be referred either to natural causes, or to the credulity of those who make use of them, or to the illusions of the Devil, or to the hidden pleasure of God, sometimes permitting such impostures to deceive our senses, for the punishing of the overgreat curiosity of Men, and chastising of the wicked. For I see not what power of action there is in a number even or odd, a barbarous word pronounced loudly or softly, and in a certain order, a figure square or triangular, and such other things, which being only quantities have not any virtue, power, or action; for these belong only to Qualities.  
The Fifth said, That we ought not to do as the vulgar do, who refer almost every thing to supernatural causes. If they behold a Tempest, or Lightning fall down upon any place, they cry the Devil is broke loose. As for effects which are attributed to Occult Properties, 'tis Sorcery, as they say, to doubt that the same are other than the works of Sorcerers. But we must rather imitate true Philosophers, who never recur to Occult Properties but where reasons fail them; much less to supernatural causes, so long as they can find any in nature, how abstruse soever they may be. Those of this knot or impotence, are of three sorts. Some proceed from the want of due Temper, as from too great cold or heat, either of the whole constitution, or of the parts serving to generation. For a good Temperature being requisite to this action, which is the most perfect of any Animal, immoderate heat prejudices the same as much as cold, because it dries the Body, and instead of producing consumes the Spirits. The Second Cause is in the Mind; for the Body is of itself immovable, unless it be agitated by the Soul which doth the same office to it that a Piper doth to his instrument, which speaks not a jot if he blow not into it. Now the Fancy may be carried away else where, or prepossessed with fear, or some other predominant passion: Whence, he that imagines himself impotent, and becomes so indeed; and the first fault serves for a preparatory to the second. Hereupon ariseth, first, displeasure, then despifing of the Women, and so their common hatred augments the evil, and makes it last, till the conceit which produced it be cured by a contrary one. So Amasis' King of Egypt being unsatisfactory to the fair Laodice his Wife, was restored in Nature by sacrifices offered to Venus. And he of whom Galen speaks, having his whole Body rubbed with Oil of Sesamum, in which the gall of a Crow had been boiled, was cured of his impotence. And indeed those untyers of points make use of extravagant and uncouth things, affording the Mind more ground of admiration than ratiocination; As they advise the Man to make water through a wedding ring, to be smoked with the burnt Tooth of a dead Man, to pass over the threshold of a door, or to sleep upon a pillow under which is placed a quill or hazle stick filled with quicksilver, and steeped with new wax, to eat a Bird called a Wood-pecker, to be unwarryed and married again to the same Woman; and other such trifles. Now every thing that can trouble the Fancy, can also bind it and make the Man impotent; as every thing that can content and rectify it, may again unbind it; there being examples of many, who though ignorant of this wickedness have really bound it, because the Husband only saw them use the same gestures as those do who intent it; as also of others who without any skill have unbound it. But when a Man is rightly disposed in all his parts, and his Imagination not perverted, and yet he finds himself impotent; then, and in no other case, may we attribute the cause thereof to damnable Sorceries; which, as we must not always credit, so neither can we sometimes question.  
The Sixth said, That indeed the near commerce of the Mind with the Body causeth that the one communicates its passions to the other. The Choleric is easy to be displeased; and he who is froward oftentimes acquires much Choler into his temper. Sadness increases the Melancholy Humour, and this again causeth sadness. The Patients good opinion of his Physician, and of the success of his malady, helps to cure him; as the fear of Death oftentimes brings it, and the apprehension of the Pestilence hath produced it. And in this case the indocility and the obedience of this Part (which seems a Province disjoined from the State, constituted by the three principal parts of the individual) is less to be wondered at then the repugnance of his other members; inasmuch as this concerns only the species, and denies its use to Man during one part of his Life, namely, from his birth to his puberty, and ordinarily in the latter years of his old age. But Fear hath oftentimes tied the Tongues of the ablest Men at such times as they have had most need of them. Yet this reason holds only in such as are afraid of the tying of the point; and many are found impotent who distrust nothing less; and therefore all that can be said, is, that perhaps some other passions supply its room.   

II. Which is the greatest Vice.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, There is but one goodness absolutely such, namely, God. All other things are termed good by the participation and respect which they have to the divine goodness, or by the comparison made of one with another, and according to the different estates and professions of Men. Thus, amongst Divines, he is called a good Man who hath most Piety; amongst Merchants, he who hath most credit. But when a Captain bids his Soldiers behave themselves like gens de bien, good Men, his meaning is, that they defeat the Enemy, and not give ground. Even the lowest rank of actions have their kind of goodness. So we call him a good Man who leaves his Wife to do all. Since therefore Evil or Vice is nothing else but the privation of goodness and Virtue, the reason of either is the same, and the word Great, in the question, shows that 'tis only comparison intended in it; nothing being great but in comparison of something less. Wherefore this question ought to be resolved severally in each profession, and according to the different estate of persons. Thus taking the word Vice lagely for Evil, the greatest in Divinity is Atheism; and the next, Heresy; the first rendering a Man a beast, the second making him shake off the yoke of the Church. The greatest Vice of a Statesman is Imprudence; of a Soldier, Cowardice; of a Friend, Treachery; of a Physician, playing the Mountebank or Cheat; of a Lawyer or Procurator, Prevarication, and when he sells the Cause of his Country; of a Judge, Injustice; of a Merchant, false Weights and Measures; of a Notary, Falsification or Forgery; of a Labourer, purloining the Seed; of a Father, forgetfulness of his Family; of a Wife, Adultery; of a Child, Disobedience; of a Servant, Domestic Theft.  
The Second said, That the different inclination and judgement of Nations is solely of consideration herein. 'Twas no Vice at Sparta to be a subtle Thief, nor at present among those roamers who take upon them the name of Egyptians; but amongst people of Honour, 'tis one of the most ignominious. And as for Drunkenness, the Northern Nations and we do not agree about it. Yet if Vices be considered in general, some one may be assigned greater than all the rest in Humane Society. For of corporeal things which we call great, there are some which are so only in comparisons of individual of the same species; so the same size which denominates a Dog great, denominates a Horse small. But some are greater than all others, namely, the highest of the Heavens. So likewise there are some Vices greater, and some less, compared one with another; as Theft with Sacrilege. But there is also some one greater than all others, which I conceive to be Pride, not only in comparison of Humility, its contrary, the foundation of all Christian and Moral Virtues, but also because all Vices take their original from it. 'Tis that which caused the fall of Angels and the first Man, which hath caused and continued all the mischiefs which befall us. Yea, 'tis not only the greatest, but also the most odious. As is proved, in that if you see a Prodigal, a Miser, a debauched person, a Thief, or a very Murderer pass by, you are not moved to so much hatred against them, as against some proud fool; who beholding others disdainfully, knows not in what posture to put himself.  
Of those which spoke afterwards, One said that he distinguished Vice from Sin, and Malice, or Enormity. The first being an habitude to evil, the second the act thereof, and the third the deformity which follows them both. Another held Atheism to be the greatest Vice. Others said, it was the sin against Nature. One assigned Philautie, or the inordinate love of ones self, as being the impulsive cause of all other Vices, to Ingratitude, Covetousness and Idleness; each maintaining the same to be the root of all other evils. Injustice was also instanced to comprehend all Vices, as Justice contains in itself all Virtues. For he who is proud, covetous, prodigal, or a Murderer, would not be so if he were not unjust, whilst he attributes more to himself, and less to others, then is due. And for conclusion it was said, That as of the diseases of the Body, those are termed the greatest which invade the most noble part, or have the most dangerous symptoms; (as the prick of a pin in the heart is more mortal than the cutting off of an arm, and the same puncture is more perilous when Convulsions thereupon befall the whole body, than a wound with a sword in some fleshy part without any accidents;) so Ignorance and Imprudence are the greatest vices, because they possess the most noble Faculty of man, the Understanding, and produce all the rest.  
At the hour of Inventions, a Proposition was reported to draw Smith's-coal out of the lands of this Kingdom, and in so doing to cut channels for the draining of Marshes, and making rivers Navigable, in order to the conveniency of transportation, sacilitation of commerce, feeding of cattle, and preservation of Forests. This Invention, besides the advantage it will bring to the meaner sort of people, in reference to their domestic fuel, is of much benefit for the making of Brick, Tile and Lime; as much of which may be made thereby in three days as is made in eight or nine with wood, which is the ordinary fashion. It will be a matter of great saving to the whole Kingdom, especially to the abovesaid Artists, who are here in great number, and are forced to buy such Coal from England at dear rates. The Proposer offered to continue the experience which he had made thereof, at his own charges, for satisfaction of the curious.    

CONFERENCE XXXVII.  
I. Of the Cabala. II. Whether the truth ought always to be spoken.  

I. Of the Cabala.  
THat which hath happened to many other words, as Tyrant and Magician, which at their first institution were taken in a good sense, but have abusively degenerated into odious significations, is found likewise in the word Cabala, which (according to its genuine importance) signifies nothing else but Tradition, and comes from the Verb Cabal, denoting with the Hebrews to give or receive. 'Tis a mystical doctrine concerning God and the creatures, which the Jews received by tradition from Father to Son. If we may give credit to them, it Began in Adam, who had a perfect knowledge not only of the whole nature and property of things corporeal; but also of the Divine nature, of the mysteries of Religion, and of the redemption of mankind, which his Angel Raziel assured him was to come to pass by means of a just man whose name should consist of four letters [which is the cause, say they, that most part of the Hebrew names are of four letters in their language, wherein the vowels are no letters] Adam taught these mysteries to his children; they to their successors until Abraham and the Patriarches. But, they say, Moses learned it anew from the mouth of God during the forty days that he was in the Mount, where he received two Laws, one written with the hand of God, comprised in the two Tables of stone; the other not written and more mysterious: the former for all in general, the latter for the learned and skilled in mysteries of Religion: which is that which Moses taught the seventy Elders of the People, chosen by himself according to the counsel of Jethro his Father-in-law; and they transferred the same to the Prophets, Doctors of the Law, Scribes, Pharisees, Rabbins, and Cabalists.  
The Second said, That in order to judge of the Cabala, 'tis requisite to know what the Philosophy of the Jews was; as the Stoics, Peripatetics, Pyrrhonians, and other Philosophers, had their peculiar Sects. 'Tis divided commonly into that of things, and that of words or names. The first is called by the Rabbins Bereschit, the second Mercana. That which treats of things, by the Cabalists called Sephiroch, that is to say, numbers or knowledges (for with them, to number and to know are almost synonymous) is either Philosophical or Theological. The Philosophical comprehends their Logic, Physics, Metaphysics, and Astronomy. In Logic they treat of the ten lesser Sephiroth; which are so many steps or degrees for attaining to the knowledge of all things, by means of Sense, Knowledge, or Faith; and they are divided into three Regions. In the lowest, which is made by the sense, are (1) the Object, (2) the Medium or Diaphanum, (3) the External sense. In the second and middle region are, (4) the Internal or common Sense, (5) the Imagination or Fancy, (6) the Estimative Faculty or inferior Judgement. In the third and supreme (7) the Superior and Humane Judgement. (8) Reason. (9) The Intellect; (10) and last, the Understanding or men's; which performs the same office to the Soul that the Eye doth to the Body whom it enlightens. For example, when I hear a Cannon discharged, the sound comes to my ears by the medium of the air, than the Common Sense receiving this species of the sound transmits' the same to the Imagination, and the Estimative Faculty judges thereof simply, as beasts would do; afterwards the Judgement apprehends the essence of the sound, Reason searches the causes thereof, and the Intellect considers them; but lastly, the Understanding or men's, called by the Cabalists Ceter, that is, a Crown (by way of excellence) receiving light from on high irradiates the Intellect, and this all the other Faculties. And these are the degrees of Cabalistical knowledge. In the other parts of their Philosophy they treat of the fifty gates of light. Whereof the 1. is the Divine Essence, the Symbol of which is the Tetragrammaton and ineffable name of God; The 2. gate is the Archetypal World; the knowledge of which two gates, they say, was hid even to Moses. The 3. is the Earth; 4. Matter; 5. Vacuum or Privation; 6. The Abyss; 7. The Fire; 8. The Air; 9 The Water; 10. The Light; 11. The Day; 12. Accidents; 13. The Night; 14. The Evening; 15. The Morning. And after many other things they constitute Man for the 50th gate. To arrive to the knowledge of these 50 gates, they have invented 32 Flambeaux or Torches to guide them into the secrets contained therein, which they call the paths of Wisdom, namely the Intelligence miraculous or occult, Intelligence sanctifying, resplendent, pure, dispositive, eternal, corporeal, etc. The Theological Cabala treats of God and Angles. Of God, by expounding the names of 12 and 42 letters, yea they attribute seven hundred several ones to him; and particularly the ten Divine Attributes, which they term the grand Sephiroth, namely, Infinity, Wisdom, Intelligence, Clemency or Goodness, Severity, Ornament, Triumph, Confession of praise, Foundation and Royalty, whereby God governs all things by weight, number, and measure. Of Angels, namely of the 32 abovesaid Intelligences, called by them the paths of wisdom (for they make them so many Angels) and of seventy two other Angels; the names they compose of the 19, 20, and 21. Verses of the 14. Chapter of Exodus, in each of which there being 72 letters, they form the name of the first Angel out of the three first letters of each Verse; the name of the second, out of the three second letters of the same Verses; and so the rest, adding at the end of every word the names of God, Jah or El, the former whereof denotes God as he exists, and the latter signifies Mighty or Strong God. The Cabala which treats of words and names is nothing else but the practice of Grammar, Arithmetic and Geometry. They divide it into three kinds. The first whereof is called Notarickon, when of several first or last letters of some word is framed a single one; as in our Acrostics. The second, Gématrie, when the letters of one name answer to the letters of another by Arithmetical proportion; (the Hebrews as well as the Greeks making use of their letters to number withal.) Whence some Moderns have affirmed that Christianity will last seven thousand years, because the letters of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and of the same value in number with those of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The third is called Themurath, which is a transposition of letters, like that of our Anagrams, the most common way of which is to change the last letter of the Alphabet into the first; and on the contrary; to which kind are referred the words and verses which are read backwards, such as this: 
opus 
 l 
 I. Deus elati mutatum Itale suedi. 
 l 
 supo  Thus, they prove by the first word of Geneses, which is Bereschit, that the world was created in Autumn, because in this word is found that of Bethisri, which signifies Autumn: And that the Law ought be kept in the heart, because the first letter of the Law is Beth, and the last Lamed, which two letters being put together, and read after their mode, which is backwards, make Leb, which signifies the heart.  
The Third said, If the word Cabala be taken for a tradition, that is to say, the manner in which the Jews made their sacrifices and prayers according to the instruction which they had from Father to Son concerning the same, it deserves to be esteemed for its antiquity, although it be abolished. And the more in regard of the Hieroglyphical and mysterious names of God and Angels which it contains; and whereof whosoever should have a perfect and entire knowledge would find nothing impossible. 'Twas by this means, say they, that Moses divided the waters of the Red Sea, and did so many other miracles, because he had written at the end of his Rod the name of Jehovah. For if it be true that black Magic can do wonders by the help of malignant spirits, why not the Cabala, with more reason, by means of the names of God, and the Angels of light, with whom the Cabalists render themselves friends and familias? Our Lord seems to confirm the same, when he commands his Apostles to make use of his name for casting Devils out of the possessed, and to heal diseases, as they did, and the Church hath done, after them, to this day. The victory of Judas Maccabaeus against the enemies of his Religion, happening by means of a sign of four letters; that of Antiochus over the Galatae, by a Pentagone; that of Constantine the great, by the sign of the Cross; and the Thou wherewith the Scripture arms the foreheads of the faithful, demonstrate that figures are not wholly inefficacious. The Critical days of Diseases, and the practice of Physicians, who administer their Pills in odd number, which the Pythagoreans call the masculine number, show likewise that all kind of virtue cannot be denied to number, and consequently that the Cabala is not to be blamed for making account of numbers, names and figures, the knowledge whereof would undoubtedly be most excellent did it not surpass the reach of humane capacity, which cannot comprehend the connexion which there is between the name and the thing which it denotes, the number and the thing numbered, and figure and the thing figured. For since the external figure of a man or other animal gives me to know his substance which I see not, and the species of this figure entering into my senses suffices to make me conceive the thing without its stirring out of its place; why shall not the names, and particularly those imposed on things by our first Parent in the Hebrew language, have as necessary a signification and connexion with things as the other accidents which are the objects of our senses? And why shall we not believe the same of the letters which represent those names in the same language?  
The Fourth said, That the Cabala was either Allegorical or Literal. The former was more conjectural; but if there be any virtue in characters which signify nothing, with more reason the words, syllables and letters, which are the visible names of things, shall not be without. This gave ground to the Cabalists to consider in letters not only their number and Arithmetical value; but also their order, proportion, harmony, magnitudes and Geometrical figures, observing whether they be strait, crooked or tortuous, closed or not; thus in one passage where the Messiah is spoken of, some have concluded from a Man which is found closed in the middle of a word, contrary to custom, that this Messiah should come out of the closed womb of a Virgin, contrary to the course of the ordinary birth of men. Thus, Rabbi Haccadosch, in the first letters of these three Hebrew words of Genesis 49. v. 10. Jebo Scilo Velo, found those wherewith the Hebrews write the name of our Saviour, namely JSU.  
The Fifth said, That we ought to govern ourselves in the reading of the Cabalists, as Bees do, who gather only the good and leave the bad, which is more plentiful; and above all avoid the loss of time which is employed in turning over the tedious volumes of the Thalmudists, which are either so unpleasant, or their sense so much unknown to us through the envy which they bore to their successors, that we may with more reason tear their Books in pieces then a Father did the Satyrs of Perseus, saying that since he would not be understood by the surface and outside, like other Writers, he would look within, whether he were more intelligible.   

II. Whether Truth is always to be spoken.  
Upon the second Point it was said; Truth and Justice being reciprocal, and the former, according to Aristotle, a moral Duty, it much imports the interest of Government that it be observed and kept inviolably, not only in contracts and public actions, but also in private discourses; and 'tis a kind of sacrilege to go about to hide it. Moreover, 'tis one of the greatest affronts that can be put upon a man of honour, to give him the lie. For as 'tis the property of an ingenuous man to avow the Truth freely, and not to dissemble; so Lying is the sign and consequent of a servile spirit. Hence the Persians were not contented to cause the children of their Kings to be instructed above all things, always to speak the truth; but they erected Temples and Altars to this Virtue as to a Deity, and adored it under the name of Oromagdes, which signifies the God of Truth. And therefore 'tis my judgement that truth ought always to be spoken although it be to one's own damage.  
The Second said, If it be necessary always to speak truth, and that it be the conformity of our words with our thoughts, mine is, that it is not always to be spoken. This Nature teaches us, whilst she discovers to us only the surface of the earth, but hath hid all the treasures of it, as all the parts of man, especially the more noble are concealed under the skin. That which vilifies mysteries is the publishing of them, called Profanation. That which hinders the effect of State-Counsels, whereof secrecy is the soul, is the letting of them be discovered, which is Treason. That which takes away the credit from all arts and professions, is the rendering them common. And Physic (amongst others) knows the advantage of concealment, whilst the welfare of the Patient many times depends upon his ignorance. Would you see what difference there is between a wise man and a fool, a Civil Man and a Clown? it does not consist in knowledge; for they oftentimes have the same thoughts and inclinations; but the Fool speaks all that he thinks, the Wise man doth not; as the Clown will declare by Gesture and (if he can) do every thing that comes into his fancy, but the better bred man uses restraint upon himself. The Comedian therefore wanted not reason, to say that Truth begets Hatred; and the Scripture teaches us that God built houses for the wise Egyptian women who lied to Pharaoh, when they were commanded to murder the Hebrew children at the birth, but obeyed not. For though some hold that God pardoned them the lie in regard of the good office which they rendered to his Church, and that 'twas for this good office that God dealt well with them; yet, leaving this subtilety to the Schoolmen, 'tis evident that their dissimulation was approved in this case.  
The Third said, There's great difference between Lying and not speaking all the truth which is expected from us; the former being vicious, the other not; whence S. Athanasius being asked by the Arrians who pursued him, whether he had seen Athanasius, told them that he went that way a little while since, but did not tell them that himself was the person. And S. Francis being asked whether he did not see a robber pass by, showed his sleeve, and said, that he did not pass that way.  
The Fourth said, As only weak and distempered eyes are unable to bear the light of the Sun, so none but weak and sickly minds cannot suffer the lustre of truth. All men are obliged to speak it, but particularly that which is dictated from God's mouth; and we ought rather to choose Martyrdom then renounce the belief of it. Less ought they to conceal it who are bound to it by their condition, as Preachers and Witnesses; provided they have regard to place, time, and persons. Without which circumstances 'tis as inacceptable and absurd as to carry a Queen to an Alehouse. Yet in two cases particularly the telling of truth may be dispensed with, I. when the safety of the Prince or good of the State is concerned, for which, Plato in his Commonwealth saith, it is lawful to lie sometimes; and the Angel Raphael told Tobias that 'tis good to hide the secrets of Kings. II. When our own life is concerned, or that of our Father, Mother, and Kindred, against whom, although we certainly know them guilty of a Crime, we are not obliged to declare it; provided, nevertheless, that it be with the respect due to the Magistrate, and that we beware of speaking lies whilst we intent only to decline discovery of the Truth. 'Tis the opinion of the Civilians, and amongst others, of Paulus, in l. 9 ff. de Test. that a Father cannot be constrained to bear witness against his Son, nor a Son against his Father, except in the case of High Treason.  
The Fifth said, That these three things must not be confounded, To lie, To speak or tell a lie, and to do or act one. To lie is to go against our own meaning; as when I know a thing, and not only conceal it, but speak the contrary. This action, according to some, is always evil, inasmuch (say they) as 'tis never lawful to do evil that good may come of it. According to others, 'tis qualified according to the diversity of its end. For he who tells a lie to save a Traveller's life who is pursued by Thiefs, seems to do better than if he exposed him to their Cruelty by his discovery. The Physician who dissembles to his Patient the danger of his disease, and thinks it enough to acquaint his domestics therewith, does better than if he cast him into despair by a downright dismal prognostication; and when he cheers him up in fitting time and place by some pleasant made Story, what he speaks can scarce be reckoned amongst idle words. But he who lies for his Profit, as most Tradesmen do, sins proportionably to the deceit which he thereby causes; but he is most culpable who lies to the Magistrate. One may tell or speak a lie without lying, namely, when one speaks a false thing conceiving it to be true. To do or speak a lie, is to lead a life contrary to ones profession; as he who preaches well and lives ill. Whence I conclude, that many precautions are requisite to lie without committing an offence, that a lie is to be spoken as little as possible, and never to be done or acted at all.    

CONFERENCE XXXVIII.  
I. Of the Period, called Fits of Fevers. II. Of Friendship.  

I. Of the Fits of Agues.  
A Fever is a Heat contrary to Nature kindled in the Heart, and from thence sent by the Arteries and Veins into the whole Body, with a manifest laesion or disturbance of the action. It is so inseparable from the Heart in case of any injury, that being we cannot die without the Heart be mis-affected; therefore many have thought that we cannot die without a Fever, though 'twere of a violent death. And for that there are three subjects which receive this Heat, viz. the Parts, the Humours, and the Spirits; thence ariseth the distinction of Fevers into three kinds, the Hectic, the Humoral, and the Ephemera, or One-day Fever. The first is in the solid parts, and is called Hectic or Habitual, because it resides in the whole habit of the Body, and is of very long continuance, yea, ordinarily lasts till Death. The second, called Humoral, is, when the Humours are inflamed, either through a bare excess of Heat without other alteration in their substance, or with corruption and putrefaction, which happens most frequently. The third kind is when only the Spirits are inflamed, and 'tis called Ephemera, because it continues but one day; unless the Humours too become of the party, as it falls out usually; and it admits of three differences, according to the three sorts of Spirits, Animal, Vital, and Natural. The Humoral Fever is either Simple or Compounded. The Simple is either Continual or Intermitting. The Continual is caused when the putrefaction of the Blood possesses the great Vessels, or some noble Part. The Intermitting, produced by the three other Humours putrefying out of the Veins, is either Quotidian, which is produced by Phlegm; or Tertian, by Choler; or Quartane, by Melancholy. The Compounded (or complex) Humoral Fever is caused by the mixture of those Humours, which then cause a double Quotidian, double Tertian, and double Quartane, yea, sometimes, but very rarely, a Quintane, and others of longer interval; which may be attributed to all the different from which Fevers arise. The Efficient, causes is, in my opinion, the strength of Nature, and every one's particular Temper; as he who is more robust, and upon whom the disease is more violent, will have longer Fits, (the Fight of Nature with the Malady being more stoutly maintained by the parties) and consequently shorter intervals, because that which increases to the one decreases to the other. The Choleric will have longer Fits of a Tertian Fever, and shorter of a Quotidiane. The Material Cause contributes very much herein, being that which supplies Ammunition to this intestine War, which is continued or discontinued according to the proportion and quantity of the Matter. 'Tis more easy to name the Formal Cause then to understand it. But as for the Final, 'tis certain that Nature makes the intervals of Fevers purposely to rally and recruit her strength; as truces and cessations of Arms use to be made when the Country is almost spent, or the Soldiers too much harassed and out of heart.  
The Second said, That the Periods of Fevers have been matter of torture to the best wits, who could not without admiration consider, how, (e. g.) one sick of a Quartan, and appearing to day at the point of Death, should nevertheless for two days together perform all his actions perfectly; and then upon the fourth, many times too at the same hour (in more contumacious Fevers) become in the like pitiful condition again. Now the Cause hereof is commonly attributed to the time which is required for producing the matter of the Fever, and consuming it. They hold that it is so long in consuming as the Fit lasts, the the end whereof is the Crisis; like as the ancient water-clocks of the Romans did not signify nor strike the hour till the vessel was full. Some have imputed the cause to the motion of the Humour, and believed that as the humid mass of the Sea hath its flux, reflux, and interval, so have the Humours of our Bodies, when the natural heat which regulated them, being disordered, and its effect suspended by the disease, governs the same no longer, but abandons them to their own Capricio. Of which motion 'tis no easier to render a reason then of that of the Sea, the Loadstone, and all other occult motions. Hence many have recurred to the Asylum of Last Differences, the knowledge whereof is interdicted to Humane Capacity. And therefore they have ventured to assign no other cause, saving that the Interval of these Fevers being their most proper Difference, it must not be wondered if we understand their nature as little as those of all other things in the world.  
The Third said, That the time which is requisite for generating the Humour cannot be the cause of these Intervals, since the Fits of a Fever are longer or shorter, though the Fever change not its Nature; yea, it will become double or treble sometimes, and still keep the name of a Quartan. As, on the contrary, when there is so little matter left for it that it is almost quite gone, yet it always returns on the fourth day, although the Fit lasts a shorter time. Yea, it comes to pass oftentimes, that he who hath had a Quartan, and is cured of all other Symptoms of his Ague, yet for a long time after feels the chillness and weariness at the same day and hour that his Disease was wont to seize upon him: In the mean time while 'tis manifest that the Fever being gone, the Melancholy Humour is no longer gathered together in sufficient quantity to produce it; and therefore the cause cannot be attributed to the Melancholy Humour, since it no longer causeth the fever. Whereby we may judge that the quantity of the matter contributes to the lengthening or diminishing of the fit, but gives not the fever its name or form. Now as for the motion which they attribute to the Humour, like that of the Sea, and their calling this Interval the form of the Fever, 'tis a confession of their Ignorance, but not a solution of the Question. Galen, in the second Book of the Differences of Fevers, and the last Chapter, refers the cause of these regular and periodical motions to the dispositions of the parts of the whole Body, which being distempered cease not to transmit or receive, generate or attract superfluous and excrementitious humours; and he holds that so long as the cause of these dispositions lasts, so long the circuits continue; and consequently, the reason why a Tertian which is caused by Choler returns every third day, is, because the distempered parts transmit, or receive, or generate bilious humours and excrements every other day. But the question remains still, whence it is, that these parts are affected in such manner that they cause such just and regular periods? For though it be true that the parts, by reason of pain or heat, (e. g.) yellow putrid Choler; nevertheless this doth not infer that they attract the same rather the third day than the fourth or every day, as they ought to do; since the cause being always present, viz. the pain or heat which incessantly attracts this humour, the effect should always follow and make a Quotidian circuit; although indeed 'tis but, once in three days.  
The Fourth said, That as Physicians refer the unusual motions of Epileptical, and the violent sallies of the Frantic, not barely to the phlegmatic or atrabilarious humour, but to a certain quality of it; so ought we to do touching the periodical motions of Fevers, which proceed not simply from the humours corrupted, but from a particular condition and virtue of each humour, whereby it is that putrifying Phlegm makes its approaches every day, Choler every third, and Melancholy every fourth day. And as these humours, so long as they retain their natural constitution, have a regular motion which carries one into the Bladder of Gall and the Guts, the other into the Spleen, and the other into the Stomach; so being corrupted, each acquires a certain new quality and putrefaction, which is the cause of other periodical motions, namely, those of Fevers.  
The Fifth said, That as health is a Symmetry and fit proportion of all the humours while they continue in society one with another; so a Fever is a discomposure thereof when some one comes to infringe the obedience which it owes to the laws of the Compositum, and to usurp a Tyranny over the rest. In which case, they do as States who apprehend their own ruin by the too great increase of a potent neighbour; they unite against it, and go to assail it all together. Upon this shock, the natural heat retires to the Heart which is the centre of the Body, as if it called its Council; hence proceeds the cold fit of the Fever, during which the extreme parts, destitute of their ordinary heat, fall into trembling, shivering, and chattering; as it comes to pass upon the Earth, when the Sun is very remote from it: But Nature at length getting the mastery, is not contented to return the Blood to the parts who were deprived thereof, in the same condition that they lent it to her; she drives it into them with a new heat acquired by the vicinity of the Heart, which is the source thereof, and augmented by the reciprocation of its motion. But as no violent thing is of long continuance, this heated Blood causing its sharpest serosities to pass through the skin by sweat, becomes assuaged, and (as water removed from off the fire ceases to boil) it no longer extends the Veins, nor stimulates the Arteries, whether this Crisis perfectly terminates the disease, as in Continual Fevers, or the Fit only, as in Intermitting; which leaving a leven of the Fever, how little soever, in the humours and an empyreuma or combustion in the parts, the best Aliments, yea, the most laudable humours, if any such remain in the Body, are as easily turned into the matter of the Fever, as the best Wine is spoiled when it is poured upon a corrupted lee in a musty vessel. And 'tis not so much to be wondered that this corruption is made regularly in the time of half a day in Quotidians, of one day in Tertians, and of two in Quartans, as that the Periods of Fevers are sometimes irregular, as is seen in Erratical Fevers; considering that all generations and corruptions are reciprocal and have their limited time. Thus 'tis a less wonder that Women are ordinarily delivered of Children likely to live, in the ninth and seventh months, then if they were delivered so in all the other months indifferently; which hath place in all other motions of Nature, who doth every thing according to number, weight, and measure.   

II. Of Friendship.  
Upon the Second Point the First said, Friendship is a powerful and straight Union which conjoins the lover and the loved party together, making one whole of these two parts; like that bond which in Nature unites the Matter and the Form, the Accident and the Substance. The cause of it is Goodness, which being proportionate to the Body, produceth a natural Amity; to the Passions, an Animal Amity; to the Understanding, a Rational one; to the Laws, a Political or Civil; to Religion, a Divine one. This Goodness consisting in a Proportion and Symmetry is not different from Beauty; and therefore we apprehend Beauty in good things, and goodness and convenience in such as are handsome and graceful.  
The Second said, besides goodness which is the cause of Friendship, and towards which our will is as necessarily carried as the Intellect is towards Truth, and all the Senses towards their proper objects; Resemblance and Friendship itself are the causes of Friendship. The first is founded upon the Love which we bear to ourselves. For as we love ourselves above any thing else in this world, so we love those who resemble us, and symbolise with our humours and inclinations. Hence it is that one of the most common courses to please, is, to conform ourselves to those by whom we desire to be affected; we never contradict their Judgement, we have no other Will but theirs, we frame ourselves to their gestures and actions, without excepting those which are imperfect. Then Friendship, the second means of acquiring Love, is no less effectual; it being almost impossible not to love them who love us. Whence the Ancients feigned Love to be the most ancient of all the gods, intimating that Love hath no other Principle or Origine but Love itself. And they who assigned him a Companion which they styled Anteros, signified thereby, that Friendship cannot last unless it be mutual.  
The Third said, That Friendship must be distinguished from Love. For Love is a Passion of the Concupiscible Appetite, arising from the imagination of a sensible good, and is found even in brute beasts. But friendship is one of the most excellent virtues, or rather the fruit of accomplished and perfect virtue; 'tis indeed very rare, because it hath place only amongst excellent persons (who are very few) uniting and making them conspire together in the exercises of virtue. But being once established, it is very durable, inasmuch as its cause and foundation, Virtue, always remains, and may be exercised. Therefore Seneca pronounces, that the friendship which knows an end was never true. Some friendships there are (indeed the most) whose foundation is Profit and Pleasure, but they are always imperfect. Whence it is that old men and young men are ordinarily accounted incapable of true friendship; the former, because they scarce regard any thing besides Profit; and the latter, because their minds are more set upon what is pleasant and agreeable then upon what is honest or virtuous. Nor is it ever found amongst wicked persons. For 1. a perfect friend must love another as much as himself. And although the affection we bear to ourselves be not true friendship, because this must always have reference to another, yet it is the most certain, yea the measure of perfect friendship, and God hath appointed it as the rule of our love to our Neighbour. Now how can he be a perfect friend who doth not love himself? How can he agree with another who accords not with himself? and how will he do good to another, who doth none to himself? for a vicious man is his own chiefest enemy, whilst he pursues the false and imaginary good in stead of the true; vice, instead of virtue; the shadow, for the body; and many times he becomes his own murderer by intemperance and other vices. He hath always a civil war within himself; his Reason is never at peace with his Appetite; what one desires, the other rejects. Consequently, he hath never any inward joy, but he is greatly displeased with being alone, and for that reason always seeks the company of those like himself, to divert his sad thoughts.  
The Fourth said, There is nothing comparable to Friendship, which is the salt and seasoning of humane life, the presever of societies, and the most agreeable and sweetest consolation that persons of virtue and honour can have; by help of which a man finds another self, to whom he may entrust his most secret thoughts. This consideration moved Archytas the Tarentine to say, That he who should ascend into the Heavens and attentively survey the beauty of the Stars and all the Celestial Orbs, would have no pleasure if he found no person to whom to recount those wonders, and communicate his felicity. 'Tis therefore one of the greatest contentments to have a friend, whom you may make partaker of your felicity, which is so much the greater when it is communicated to others without being diminished to yourself; and in case adversity befall you, the same is sweetened by the relation you make thereof to him who shares this burden with you, and so renders it more supportable. True it is, that although a friend be necessary in either fortune, yet he is of more advantage to us in adversity; in which a friend supplies his friend with help and counsel, and is thereby distinguished from a false one, who loves only for the sake of his own pleasure and profit. Now whatever is excellent hath most of Unity. And as a River divided into several streams is more weak; so friendship shared amongst many is always languid and impotent. Besides, a friend should be complacent to his friend in every thing, and they ought to be but one soul living in two bodies. Now 'tis as hard to please many, as 'tis impossible to please all the world. And should two friends at the same time implore the succour of a third, he could not betake himself to both together, nor consequently satisfy the duty of friendship.  
The Fifth said, That Friendship is either Natural, Spiritual, or Moral. The Natural is between Father and Children, Brethren and Sisters, Husband and Wife, and between Kindred or Alliance. The Spiritual is between those who profess the same Law and Religion, such as is that of Christians and monastics. The Moral is between such as are united together upon the account of Virtue; such was that of Theseus and Pirithous, Orestes and Pylades, Damon and Pythias, Aeneas and Achates, Achilles and Patroclus, Jonathan and David, and so few others, that many have conceived perfect Friendship but an Idea, a mark to be aimed at, but never hit; much like the description of a perfect Orator. It consists only in the union of Wills, not of Understandings; for I may have an opinion different from that of my friend without prejudicing our friendship, but not a different Will. And as honesty doth not take away piety, nor piety honesty; so spiritual and moral friendship do not destroy one the other. For I may love one morally whom I love not spiritually; that is, I may conspire with him in the exercises of honesty or virtue, though I differ in those of piety.    

CONFERENCE XXXIX.  
I. Why all men naturally desire knowledge. II. Whether Permutation or Exchange be more commodious than Buying and Selling.  

I. Why all men naturally desire knowledge.  
ARistotle rightly teacheth that the first Question ought to be whether the thing be or exist; because 'tis in vain to seek the causes of that which hath no being. 'Tis therefore first to be enquired, whether it be true that all men have a natural desire of knowing; and then the causes thereof must be sought. That which is natural must be found in all; so we say 'tis natural to a stone to tend downwards, because all of them do so. But 'tis so far from being true that all men are desirous to know and learn, that for rectifying the defect of such desire we see Teachers sometimes armed with the rod, sometimes forced to use allurements and rewards, and employ all artifices they can devise to excite a desire of learning in such as want it, the number of whom is always greater than of others. Hence it is that in a School of five hundred Scholars you shall scarce find fifty that have well profited in learning; and amongst a hundred Masters of a Trade, scarce ten good workmen. Moreover, there are some men who have not much less of the beast then of the man. And as the greatest Clerks (according to the Proverb) are not always the wisest men, so neither are they the most happy. The best and most knowing Philosophers are not the men that do their business best now-adays. 'T will be said, that to understand the means of advancing one's self is a sort of knowledge, and they who have not a genius for learning have one for other things, and profit therein as well as in the Sciences. But I answer, that Philosophy being the key of all other Disciplines, 'tis a sign that they will not open the chest, when they refuse the key of it. Besides, we see some persons so stupid, that they interpret the curiosity of knowing a trouble to themselves, and a vice in others: and not only some Philosophers have disclaimed to know any thing except that they knew nothing; but there have been found many holy personages who made profession of ignorance.  
The Second said, All naturally desire to know, but not all things, nor at all times, nor by all the ways that are prescribed them; every one would learn after his own mode, and things proportional to his reach: and as when these conditions meet together, they excite the desire; so when any one is wanting, they cause disgust. Thus one is passionately affected to Algebra, which deterr's the wit of another: One matter may please at the beginning, and become distasteful into the continuance; and the same subject being treated in familiar discourse will render you attentive, yet displeases you in a more lofty style, which, on the other side, would content some other; wherefore 'tis not to be wondered if some minds have reluctancy against the constraint which is offered to be laid upon them; as the stomach rises when a food which it loathes is tendered to it, though the appetite of knowing be, in the mean time, no less natural to the soul then that of eating is to the body.  
The Third said, That supposing this desire of knowledge not general, it is demanded whence it comes to pass that it is so great in many persons, that some have relinquished all their fortunes for it, others have spent their whole age in attaining it, others have put out their own eyes the better to attend it, and some lost their lives for it. It seems to me that all of them do thus for some good. Now good is divided into its three kinds; and correspondently, some do it for profit, fitting themselves to gain themselves a livelihood; others for honour, and to enjoy the prerogatives which knowledge procures to the most learned; others again do it, only for the pleasure which they find in study, and not for the sake of knowledge itself: for when we once have attained the knowledge of a thing, it affords us delight no longer; whence it is that excellent workmen are always poor; because so soon as they have arrived to a perfection of skill they leave all further search to others; their only pleasure was in the acquisition. This pleasure herein resembling all other sorts, which consist only in action, and not in acquiescence or satisfaction. But may not it also be thus, because our soul being a Number always desires and aims to perfectionate itself? And as no number can be assigned so great but that some others may be added to it, even to infinity; so our soul is capable of receiving new light and new notions, to infinity? Or else, as every thing tends to its natural place, so our soul being of celestial original aspire to the infinite knowledge of God by that of finite things.  
The Fourth said, That the reason why both young and old desire to know, is, because of the extreme pleasure which they take in knowing things. But if some be not inclined thereunto, 'tis in regard of the difficulties, which abate indeed, but cannot wholly extinguish their natural ardour. This pleasure is apparent, in that we take delight to know not only true things, but such as we are conscious to be notoriously false; yea sometimes we are more delighted with the latter than the former provided they have some pretty conceits, as with Stories, Fables and Romances. For there is nothing so small and inconsiderable in nature, wherein the mind finds not incomparable divertisement and delight. The Gods, saith Aristotle, are as well in the least infects as in the most bulky animals; and to despise little things is, in his judgement, to do like children. For, on the contrary, as in Art, the less place a Picture takes up, the more it is esteemed; and the Iliads of Homer were sometimes the more admired for that they were comprised in a Nutshell: so in Nature, the less volumn things are in, the more worthy they are of admiration. Now if there be so much pleasure in seeing the figures and representations of natural things, because we observe the work-man's industry in them; there is much more contentment in clearly beholding those things themselves, and remarking in their essence, proprieties and virtues, the power and wisdom of Nature far transcending that of Art. But if the knowledge of natural things affords us such great delight, that of supernatural ravishes us in a higher measure; and 'tis also much more difficult, because they are remote, from our senses, which are the ordinary conveyances of knowledge: Wherefore there being pleasure in knowing both great things and small, natural and supernatural; 'tis no wonder if man, who usually follows delectable Good, takes delight in knowing.  
The Fifth said, The Philosopher in the beginning of his Metaphysics proves this Proposition, 1. By Induction, from the senses, which are respectively delighted in their operations; whence we love the sense of Seeing above all the rest, because it supplies us with more knowledge than any one of the rest. 2. Because Man being mindful of the place of his original, desires to raise himself above Plants and the other Animals. By Sense he advances himself above Plants; by Memory above certain Animals who have none; by Experience above them all; but by the use of Reason, from which proceedeth Science, Men excel one another. For there are Animals which have some shadow of Prudence, but not any hath Science. And, as Seneca saith, men are all equal in their beginning and their end, that is, as to life and death, not differing but in their interval, whereof Science is the fairest Ornament. The cause of this desire of knowing proceeds then from the natural inclination which every thing hath to follow its own good. Now the good of Man, as Man, is to know. For as a thing exists not but so far forth as it acts, the Rational Soul (the better part of us) cannot be termed such, saving inasmuch as it knows; yea Action being the measure not only of being, but also of the perfection of being (whence God, who is most perfect, never ceases to act; and the First Matter which is the most imperfect of all entities, acts either little or nothing at all) therefore the Reasonable Soul being the most noble and perfect of all forms, desires to act and employ itself incessantly in its action, which is the knowledge of things. Indeed every thing strives after its own operation. As soon as the Plant is issued out of the earth it thrusts forward till it be come to its just bigness. The Eye cannot without pain be hindered from seeing; Silence causes sadness. And as we see the Boar and the Bull, by an admirable instinct of Nature, the one oppose its forehead, the other its mouth, against such as provoke them, though the former as yet wanteth teeth, and the latter horns; so the reason and desire of knowing appears very early in children, even before they are capable of much.  
The Sixth said, That the Intellect becometh each thing which it understands. Hence Man, the most inconstant of all creatures, is carried so ardently to the knowledge of all things, which finding not worthy of him he relinquishes, till he be arrived at the knowledge of his Creator, to whom conforming himself he desires to know nothing more, but acquiesces, contemplating in him, as in a mirror, all other things of the World.  
The Seventh said, All things were made for the use and behoof of man, and therefore he has reason to desire to know every thing, to the end he may make use of it.  
The Eighth said, We have the seeds and treasures of Knowledge hidden in ourselves; which longing to be exerted and reduced from power into act, incessantly solicit us to put them forth. Hence comes the desire of knowing, or rather awakening these species which are perfected in us by use, and in time wholly displayed. In which respect Teachers are with good reason compared to Midwives who do not produce the Infant in the Mother's womb, but lend a helping hand to its coming forth. For Teachers do not infuse knowledge into the children whom they instruct, but only assist them to produce it out of folds and recesses of the mind, in which otherwise it would remain unprofitable, and like matter without form; as the Steel doth not give fire to the Flint, but elicits the same of it. So those natural lights and notices being at first invelop'd with clouds, when their veil is taken away, and they are loosened, as the Platonists speak, from the contagion of the senses, they extremely delight those who bore them enclosed in their breast, and needed help to exclude them.   

II. Whether exchange be more convenient than buying and selling.  
Upon the second Point it was said, As Unity is the beginning of Numbers in Arithmetic, and of causes in nature; so community of goods was no doubt at first amongst men. But because 'tis the occasion of negligence, and cannot continue long, in regard some are better husbands, more easy to be contented, and need less than others; hence arose the words of Mine and Thine, which are more efficacious than Ours and Yours; since even monastics take it for a mortification, and children cry when any thing proper to them is taken from them. In old time, when one had eaten or spent what was his own he repaired to his neighbour for more, accommodating him with some other thing whereof he stood in need, by way of exchange, the respective value of the things being limited according to their estimation of their goodness and scarcity, in the first place, and then of their beauty or comeliness. And because Oxen and Sheep afforded them the most commodities, as their skins for clothing, and their milk and flesh for food, besides other uses to which they were serviceable, they made all their traffic with Cattle, in which all their wealth consisted. But because 'twas too troublesome a thing for a man to drive always a flock of Sheep before him, or lead a Cow by the horn, for making of payment; the industry of men increasing, they cast their eyes upon that which was in the next degree of most use to them, and most durable; and finding that 'twas Iron and Copper, and especially that the latter was the fairest and easiest to be melted and cast into Kettles and other domestic Utensils, they made choice thereof, mutually giving and receiving it, by weight, for other things they needed, and divided it by pounds, which word still remains amongst us, to signify twenty shillings, which is very near the just value that a pound of Copper had in those days. And to save the labour of weighing this pound and the parts of it, they stamped upon one side the figure of a ship, with the weight and value (because Saturn, the inventor of money in Italy, arrived there in a ship) and on the other side the pourtait of one of those beasts which are designed by the word Pecus, whence Money came to be called pecunia. Afterwards the Arms of the Prince were substituted in stead of the Ship, and Constantine put a Cross in place of the Beast. Now because, in old Gaulish, a Ship was called Pile (whence the word Pilot remains to this day) the side of the Coin on which the Ship was is still called Pile, and the other Cross, how different stamps soever have succeeded since. Nevertheless exchange is more universal than buying and selling, particularly between State and State, transportation of money being generally forbidden, and only the carrying away of Merchandise for Merchandise allowed. Moreover, there are more Nations who exercise Commerce by trucking, then there are that make use of Money. It seems also to be more convenient for particular persons, it being more difficult for him that is in necessity to sell what he hath, many times, at a low rate in money, and to buy dearly what he wants, then to give out of his abundance to him that needeth, and receive from him in consideration thereof what himself wanteth.  
The Second said, That Exchange being founded upon Commutative Justice, and introduced by the mutual necessities men have of one another, consists in the comparing of things between themselves; so that according as one thing exceeds another in price and value, or else is exceeded by it, the excess or defect of the one side or the other must be equally compensated. To which purpose men make use of two measures, the one natural, and the other artificial. The natural measure is the scarcity of things compared with their public use. Whence it comes to pass that the less there is of a thing which is greatly used, 'tis the dearer; and, on the contrary, the price is diminished according to the greater plenty thereof. For 'tis not barely the goodness of the thing, nor its rarity or its necessity, that is the cause of its value; but all these together referred to its use. So water, which is better and less hurtful to man then wine, is nevertheless of less price. Corn is more necessary than Sugar, yet not so dear; and the rarest Plants, which are no ingredients into the compositions of Physic, scarce find buyers. Now Money is the artificial measure, invented by men, for measuring the price and value of all things, both real and imaginary, movable and immovable. These two measures are different, in that the abundance of things diminishes their price; scarcity and defect augments it: but contrarily, the plenty of money enhances the price of things, and its scarcity diminishes it: whence the more money there is in a State, the dearer every thing is; as appears by comparing our Age with that of our Grandfathers before the discovery of the West Indies; when they were richer and had more Merchandise with a thousand Crowns than we have now with ten thousand. And on the contrary, the more things there are to exchange, the truck or traffic is the easier; although that's the happiest Country from whence more is exported then imported into it. But because many times the parties could not agree, he that needed an Ox possessing nothing that liked the owner, and some things of too great value being withal uncapable of division, as a House or a Ship; therefore they invented money to supply all these defects. This money, in some Countries, consisted of Shells; in others, of precious Stones; elsewhere, of other things; but most commonly of Metal. And although it be not absolutely necessary, yet it is much more convenient than Exchange; for by means thereof a man may do every thing that can be done by permutation, and some thing more. Whence it is, that Princes always prohibit the transportation of it, but that of other things only upon some occasions. For money is, with good reason, said to be every thing potentially.  
The Third said, That as it was sometimes doubted whether Caesar's birth were more happy or fatal to the Roman Empire, which he on one side adorned with glory and triumphs, and on the other desolated by Civil Wars: so 'tis hard to judge whether the invention of Gold and Silver Coin hath been more beneficial or pernicious to mankind. For 'tis true, it greatly facilitates Commerce amongst men; but it likewise brings along with it covetousness, and the desire of having it. For whereas at first the most avaricious were forced to set bounds to their covetousness, when their Granaries, Sellars and Houses were full; and also when Iron money came in use, it took up almost as much room as the things themselves; now, since the invention of Gold and Silver Coin, men have begun to reckon by Millions, which give less content to the possessors than pains to acquire, solliciotousness to preserve, and trouble to lose them.    

CONFERENCE XL.  
I. Of Prognostication or Presaging by certain Animals. II. Why all men love more to command then to obey.  

I. Of Divination by some Animals.  
MAn is affected to nothing more passionately then to the Faculty of Divining. Upon this account he paints Prudence, the most necessary of the Cardinal Virtues, with a double countenance, one whereof speculates futurity. And because this knowledge of things to come would rid him of the two most violent passions which perplex him, Fear and Hope, therefore he spares nothing to attain the same. To this end he employs not only the four Elements, but makes a distinct art of the ways of Prediction by each of them. He makes use of all mixed bodies too, and searches even the bowels of living creatures, yea the very Sepulchers of the dead, in quest of Presages of the future. And although, speaking absolutely, such inventions are more capable to attract the admiration, and consequently the money of credulous persons, then to instruct them (unless perhaps, in prudence, to take care of being so easily deceived afterwards) yet there seems to be a correspondence and connexion between present and future things, as there is between the passed and the present; for as he who perceives the corruption of unburied bodies after a Battle to have infected the air, and begotten the Pestilence, may certainly refer the cause of such Contagion to the War; so he that shall behold a furious War in which great Battles are fought may conjecture an approaching Pestilence. Possibly, if we were as careful to contemplate the changes of all other bodies, Minerals and Vegetables, we should remark therein Presages as much more infallible than those of animals, as their actions, being more simple, are likewise more certain; as may be instanced in the Mulberry-tree, which buds not till all the cold weather be passed; but because the Local Motion which is proper to animals, affects us more, thence it becomes also more remarkable.  
The Second said, That man must not be forgotten in this Disquisition. For not to speak of Prognostication in his diseases, by means whereof the Physician gets the esteem of a God, we see old men and other persons so regular in the constitution of their bodies, that they will tell you, beforehand, better than any Almanac, by a Toothache, a Megrim, or a Sciatica, what weather is approaching, whether rain, frost or snow, or fair. This is commonly attributed to the rarefaction or condensation of the peccant humours in their bodies, the same discharging themselves upon what part they find weakest (as the weakest are commonly the most oppressed) and there making themselves felt by their acrimony: but the parties are no longer sensible thereof then that intemperate weather continues, a new disposition of the air causing a new motion and alteration in the humours. When Cats comb themselves (as we speak) 'tis a sign of rain; because the moisture which is in the air before the rain, insinuating itself into the fur of this animal, moves her to smooth the same, and cover her body wherewith, that so she may the less feel the inconvenience of Winter; as on the contrary, she opens her fur in Summer, that she may the better receive the refreshing of the moist season. The crying of Cats, Ospreys, Raven's, and other Birds, upon the tops of houses, in the nighttime, are observed by the vulgar to presignifie death to the sick; and those creatures are thought to know the approach thereof by their cadaverous scent, which appears not to us till after their death, by reason of the dulness of our senses; it being no less admirable that such carrion Birds smell better than we, then 'tis to see a dog distinguish by his smelling the traces of a Hare, which are imperceptible to us. But it may as well be, that these Birds cry by chance upon the first house where they light, and are heard only by such as watch in attendance upon persons dangerously sick; they being likewise Birds of but a weak sight, and therefore flying abroad most commonly in the dark. As for the foresight of fertility, by the Honeton, and of a calm, by the Halcyon or Kings-fisher, these aught to be referred to the same instinct of Nature, which guideth the Spider to wove her nets, and the Swallow to build her nest.  
The Third said, There is a close connexion between the superior and inferior bodies, the chain whereof is to us imperceptible, though their consecution be infallible. This was signified by Trismegistus, when he pronounced that that which is below is like that which is on high, and therefore 'tis not to be wondered if one be the sign of the other.  
The Fourth said, Certain Animals are found under the domination of one and the same Star, of which subjection they have some character either external or internal. And 'tis credible that all bodies, especially Plants, have figures or characters of their virtues, either within or without. Thus, they say, those Plants which are prickly, and whose leaves have the shape of a spears point, or other offensive arms, are vulnerary; those which have the spots or speckles of a Serpent, are noted to be good against poisons; and all are serviceable for the conservation of such parts, and cure of such diseases as they resemble in figure. In like manner, 'tis probable that the Cock hath a certain internal character which particularly rank him under the dominion of the Sun; and that this is the cause that he crows when his predominant planet possesses one of the three cardinal points of Heaven, in which the same hath most power, namely, in the East, when the light thereof is returning towards him; in the South, at which time he rejoices to see it at the highest pitch of strength; and at midnight, because he feels that it is then beginning again to approach to our Hemisphere. But he crows not at sunset, being sad then for its departure, and for that he is deprived of its light. And, for this reason, in my opinion, the Romans chiefly made use of young Chickens, from which to collect their auguries; because they conceived that being Animals of the Sun, and more susceptible of its impressions, by reason of their tenderness, they were more easily sensible, and consequently afforded more remarkable tokens by their motions and particular constitution, of the various dispositions of the Sun, in reference to the several Aspects of good and bad Planets, especially of Saturn their opposite. Whence judging, by the dulness and sadness of the Chickens, that the Sun was afflicted by a bad Aspect of Mars or Saturn; they drew a consequence, that since this Luminary, which besides its universal power, was the Disposer of their fortune with Mars, was found ill disposed when they were projecting any design, therefore they could not have a good issue of it. Thus people prognostice a great Famine or Mortality when great flocks of Jays or Crows forsake the woods; because these melancholy birds, bearing the characters of Saturn the author of famine and mortality, have a very early perception of the bad disposition of that Planet.  
The Fifth said, Thence also it is, that if a fly be found in an Oak-apple, 'tis believed that the year ensuing will be troubled with wars, because that Insect being always in motion, and troublesome, is attributed to Mars. If a spider be found in the said Excrescence, than a Pestilence is feared, because this Insect hath the characters of malignant Saturn; if a small worm be seen in it, then, this Insect being attributed to Jupiter and Venus, plenty is prognosticated. Now, did we know all the internal or external characters of Animals, we might by their motion and disposition obtain some knowledge of that of their Star, and thence draw some conjectures of futurities. But this cannot be done by the deportments of Men, because these are varied by a thousand businesses, imagination and troubles, and especially by their free Will and Dissimulations; the latter whereof puts them upon outward motions contrary to their internal, and the former carries them, by the sway of their wills, against the course of celestial impressions.   

II. Why Men love more to command then obey.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, Man is one of the weakest, but the most ambitious of all Creatures. He accounts himself worthy to command, not only over all that is below him, but also over all his equals. And did not shame restrain him, he would willingly give his own suffrage for himself, when the person of greatest sufficiency were to be nominated. Hence it is, as I conceive, that we have as many Enemies as Servants, if the Proverb be true. For the Servant accounting himself equally or more able to command then his Master, believes that Nature of Fortune does him wrong in leaving him in that condition, and therefore he aspires to change it. The opposition of Contraries contributes also thereunto; for observing the evils which attend such as are reduced under the will of another; and on the other side, the content which Masters seem to have while they live at their own discretion, and more easily suffer any evil of their own doing, because every Man can better bear with himself then with another; hereupon they as much desire command as they detest obedience. Now besides all this, the reason why we are so enamoured of command, is, for that every thing desires to be in action, because all being consists primarily in action. Our Will, accordingly, is forward to exert the act of volition; but it willeth only by halves, when it is controlled; and nothing offends us more than when we command, and no body stirs to obey us; so that some are impatient of being gainsaid, even in things notoriously impertinent or unjust. Witness Philip of Macedon, who having unjustly condemned a poor woman, chose rather to pay her condemnation for her to her Adversary, then retract his own judgement. 'Twill perhaps be objected, that there are good Friars and Nuns, who love better to obey then to command. I answer, that in this act as well as in other mortifications of their appetites, they acknowledge that they under-go very great difficulties; and these prove the truth of the Proposition. Yea, obedience and the resignation of our own will is more hard to observe then Poverty and Chastity; inasmuch as the goods of Fortune and the Body are inferior to those of the Mind.  
The Second said, This Question hath no difficulty in the general, since all they who are contented with a servile condition, make their obedience subservient to their desire of raising a fortune, which may one day enable them to command. Nor is the reason of it less easy. For since no motive is more powerful to incline the Will of Man then Delight and Profit, no other reason of this desire need be searched, since superiority affords such sensible pleasure, and conspicuous advantage; command being, to speak truth, nothing else but an effective power of applying what means we please wherewith to compass our Profit or Delight. But seeing Nature hath established this Law, that Inferior things ought to obey the Superior, the less worthy the more worthy; so that Obedience and Command are the different consonances which compose the Harmony of the world; Whence is it that Man alone raising up the Tones or Notes of his Ambition interrupts the Consort of the Universe, and makes Discord amongst this agreeable Music? The reason hereof is, that as Nature gives no desires but she also gives power, so she gives no power without desire. Wherefore having made Man free by a power, to wit, a Will most free and independent, she has also made him free by Inclination and Desire. Now forasmuch as Obedience is the restriction and modification, or rather an annihilation of, and contrary motion to this Will and desire of freedom, 'tis no wonder that Man so abhors servitude and desires command; because in doing so he most powerfully exercises his will in all its extent.  
The Third said, The Will of Man being always mutable, and in perpetual motion, 'tis no marvel if it abhors Obedience which checks its course, deprives it of the means of change, and usually carries it by a retrograde motion against its own inclination. Yea, 'tis an ordinary thing for Men to be averse to do or abstain from any matter whatsoever, only because it is commanded or forbidden; although we had a desire to do it before, or at least it was indifferent to us. Whence arose the Proverb, That Forbidding inflames Appetite; and the more, for that the order which is given us introduces into our Will another strange Will, which, though like and conformable to ours, yet displeases us, as it is forinsecal; as the motion which would have been natural to the stone, if it had been barely let fall from on high downwards, becomes violent to it when it is cast down.  
The Fourth said, This desire proceeds from the love which we bear to ourselves, so natural to Man, that it lives first, and dies last in him. Now Man loving himself more than any else, and love having for its foundation the perfection and merit of the thing loved; hence he esteems himself more perfect, and consequently more worthy to command then any other. And this causes him to desire a thing which he accounts due to him.  
The Fifth said, That as some Men are naturally lead to command, so others are inclined of their own accord to obey and serve. The former are called, by the Philosopher, Lords and Masters by Nature, having an Heroic Spirit, and capable of governing not themselves only, but others too; their Bodies being usually weak and delicate, hair fine, and skin smooth and thin. Others are servants by Nature, being strong and sturdy, fit to carry burdens, to undergo labour, and such incommodities as attend those who are subject to another's Will; they have also, many times, so little capacity, that they have more of the beast then of the Man; and this by the ordering of Divine Providence, lest having good judgements and quick wits, they might reflect upon the equity or injustice of their Master's commands, and so not execute them as they ought; or lest the consideration of their misery, being thereby always present with them, might render them more unhappy.  
The Sixth said, That Man having been created by God for command, as holy writ attesteth, he always retains the remembrance of his original, and would be Master every where. For though the Creatures upon which the dominion given him by God extends, seem to have been refractory to him ever since his sin; yet the most part still acknowledge in him some tokens of their ancient Lord. The otherwise most unruly Horse suffers himself to be managed by him, and a troop of Oxen is driven by a Child. The most furious Animals become gentle, and tremble at the occurse of Man's Countenance, because they find therein the characters of Divinity. But as 'tis natural to other Animals to obey Man more perfect than themselves, so it seems to Man a thing against Nature for the more perfect to obey the less.  
The Seventh said, That the desire of commanding hath not place in all, nor at all times. The Master of the Ship willingly resigns the management of the helm to an experienced Pilot, and disbanded Soldiers readily suffer themselves to be rallied and conducted by those whom they judge the most worthy to command them. Others, far from this desire, submit and tie themselves, by natural inclination, to the pleasure of an other. Moreover, some Virtues are so heroical and eminent that they win hearts, as it were, by violence, and constrain the most refractory and ambitious to confess that they ought to be obeyed. By this means a multinous multude, impatient of all command, hath been brought to lay down their Arms. But we see some Spirits so free, that nothing can reduce them to obedience, neither Promisings nor threatenings. They have so high and extraordinary a genius, that they will prefer poverty and misery, yea, beggary and torments themselves before obedience, and never stoop to the pleasure and will of any other, although they be but little befriended by Fortune or Nature. Whence is this? Why, sometimes from greatness of Spirit, and oftentimes from a disorderliness of Mind which breaks forth, and is not capable of restraint.  
The Eighth said, That in the whole Universe the more noble commands the less, the more potent quality predominates over the rest; In Animals the Soul commands the Body, as the Master his servant, makes it move and act as it pleases; and Man exercises sovereignty over beasts; amongst Men, Reason commands the Appetite; in Oeconomy, the Male, as the more perfect, commands the Female; and, generally, the wise, learned, and virtuous, aught to have the command over the foolish, ignorant, and vicious. For I speak of things as they ought to be. But 'tis otherwise if we consider things as they are. Many times the Appetite over-masters Reason; usually fools and ignorants are the strongest. Wherefore if there be found any one amongst Men that differs as much from others as the Soul from the Body, Man from beast, Reason from the Appetite, the Male from the Female, he ought to command. For, according to Aristotle, Every Man who commands must be of a different Nature from him who obeys. And as the Shepherd is of another and more excellent Nature then his flock, so he that commands over Men ought to be a God, or at least a Hero. And can you wonder now that every one would have a good opinion had of himself, and be accounted a Hero or a God?    

CONFERENCE XLI.  
I. Of Comets. II. Whether Pardon be better than Revenge.  

I. Of Comets.  
THe deceitfulness of our senses causes the difficulty of understanding the nature of Comets. For as some Colours, so some Lights are true, others apparent. Who would not affirm, at a distance, that Gloe-wormes, some kind of rotten wood, the scales of certain Fishes, and the eyes of Cats are real fire? And to get to further than Heaven, who would not believe that the Moon and other Planets have a true light, were it not for the reasons of Astronomy? Nevertheless, Experience convinces us of the contrary on Earth, as well as Reason doth in Heaven. Yet because, in doubtful matters, 'tis best to keep to the common opinion; I concur with that which holds a Comet to be a hot and dry Exhalation inflamed in the highest Region of the Air, if the Heaven be solid; and amongst the celestial orbs, in case they be liquid: which Exhalation resembles the unctuosity of a torch newly extinguished; which serving for fuel to the fire, which the reflection of the Sunbeams, or the violence of motion excites there, represents the figure according to which the matter is disposed to burn, and appears so long to us till its matter be consumed, unless more be carried up which is proper to succeed it.  
The Second said, There is little probability that so thin and subtle matter as the aforementioned can burn for several months together. Considering that the fires of our furnaces consume themselves in less than a day, unless they be recruited with new matter; and that the vast bulk of these Meteors allows us not to imagine that enough can be found for the sustenance of so great a flame. For that which appeared in this City in November 1618. occupied forty degrees of the Firmament, notwithstanding its remoteness from our sight, which always makes things appear less than themselves. And the matter which should be lifted up from the Earth to succeed that which is first consumed would not be inflamed, because it could not arrive to the burning Comet in its first place, by reason of its circular motion, contrary to that of Exhalations which is made in a straight line. Nor is this opinion less inconsistent with the place which they assign, namely, the Heaven; inasmuch as many have been above the Planets, as is evidenced by their Parallax. For the Heavens being incorruptible, 'tis impossible to fancy any corruption in them, since that which is Eternal cannot but be incompetible with that which is corruptible. Now that they are Eternal, the regularity of their motions domonstrates. And although the Apogees and Perigees of the Planets, which are the points of their greatest and least distance from the Earth, are, according to the affirmation of some Astrologers, changed above twenty six degrees since Ptolomy's time; yet this permutation of place induces no mutation of substance. Nor can a Comet be the reflection or occurrence of the light of some Planets, as those Meteors are which we call la Rose and le Soldat; for then no Comet could last longer than such occurse, which is but momentaneous, by reason of the continual motion of the Planets; besides that they might be as certainly prognosticated as Eclipses. But forasmuch as there are some things which we know no further then by negation, I conceive it more easy to say what a Comet is not, then to determine what it is.  
The Third said, A Comet is only an appearing, not a real light; and 'tis produced by the darting of the Sunbeams through an Exhalation, which is fit for this purpose by its substance somewhat thin in the surface for intromitting the beams, and dense within for reflecting them, and giving them the colour of fire; like as when the Sun casting his rays upon the clouds, at Morning or Evening, gives them a ruddy colour. And according as those are united or compacted, enlighned by the Sun, or regard several quarters of the world; so the Comets have different shapes or figures, which ought no more to astonish us then these of the Clouds; which according to their conjunction together represent innumerable forms; or at least than those of other fiery Meteors, variously figured according to the casual occurrence of the matter which composes them. Therefore Scaliger in his Exercitations holds that Comets are neither signs nor causes of the events which follow them, and derides those who believe that they fore-shew the death of Great Persons, or that destruction of Nations and Kingdoms; alleging that many great Great Men have died, yea, many Illustrious Families and States been destroyed, without the appearance of any Comet; and, on the contrary, that many Comets have appeared, and no such accidents ensued.  
The Fourth said, That Comets are certain Stars whose motion is unknown to us, and who being raised very high in their Apogaeum, remain for a long time invisible. This is of no unfrequent observation in Mars, who, as many Astrologers affirm, is at some times lower than the Sun; and at other times so high above the rest of the Planets superior to his sphere, that his body remains hid when his opposition to the Sun ought to render it most conspicuous. In like sort, those Stars which God reserves as instruments of the greatest events, which he hath foreordained to come to pass in the Universe, remain a long time elevated in their Apogaeum, till they come at length to descend towards the Earth; from whence, as soon as they begin to manifest themselves, they attract great quantity of vapours; which receiving the light variously, according to the nature of the places whence they were raised, represent to us sundry shapes of hairy and bearded Stars, or in form of a Dart, Sword, Dish, Tub, Horns, Lamps, Torches, Axes, Rods, and such others, as it falls out. And although those Stars incessantly act, yet coming to be produced anew, and being nearer the Earth, their effects are augmented and become more sensible. As the Fish ceases neither to be nor to move when it is in the bottom of the Sea, yet it appears not to us to have either existence or motion, unless when it comes near the surface of the Water.  
The Fifth said, that Comets must needs be some extraordinary things, since they always presignify strange events, especially in Religion. Histories observe that of sixty six Comets which have appeared since the Resurrection of our Saviour, there is not one but hath been immediately followed by some disorder or division in the Church, caused by Persecutions, Schisms or Heresies. That which Josephus relates to have appeared over the Temple of Jerusalem, and lasted a year (contrary to the custom of others, which exceed not sixty days) was followed by the ruin of Judaisme. That of which Seneca speaks to have appeared in Nero's time, was the forerunner of the Heresies of Cerinthus and Ebion. That of the year 1440 foreshowed the Heresy of Nestorius. That of the year 1200, the division caused by the Waldenses and Albingenses. And lastly, those which have been seen since the year 1330 have sufficiently manifested the truth of this effect by the multiplicity of Sects wherewith Christendom abounds at this day. But especially, the thirty Comets which have appeared in France since the year 1556 (four of which were in the same year, namely, in the year 1560) but too well witness the verity of their presignifications, which (as S. Augustine saith) are ordinarily fulfilled before the same are known by men.  
The Sixth said, That as in all things else, so in Comets, the magnitude demonstrates the vehemence and considerableness of the future event. The colour signifies the nature of the Planet under whose dominion it is. The splendour or brightness shows the quick and effectual activity thereof, as its less lively colour testifies the contrary. The Form is a Celestial character or hicroglyphick, denoting an effect in the earth; as if God spoke to us by signs, or writ to us after the mode of China, where the figures of things stand for letters, not contenting himself to destinate to this purpose the combinations of the Planets with the other Stars, which are the next causes of all natural effects here below. The place of the Air, or of Heaven, namely, the sign of the Zodiac wherein the Comet is, serves to design the Country which is threatened by it; and if it be in a falling House, it signifies sudden death. It's motion from West to East indicateth some foreign enemy, whose coming is to be feared. If it move not at all, 'tis a sign that the enemy shall be of the same Land upon which the Meteor stops; so likewise if it goes in twenty four hours from East to West; because this motion is imputed to the first mover which hurries along withal the other Celestial Bodies. Their effects also belong to the places towards which their hairs or tails incline. Those which appear at daybreak, and continue long, have their effects more sudden; those of the evening, and of less continuance, later. They are especially of great importance when they are found with any Eclipse: and the Precept which Ptolemy and his Interpreters enjoin principally to observe, is, that those are deceived who believe that every Comet signifies the death of some great person; but they only hold, that as when the fiery Planets rise at daybreak, as so many attendants on the Sun, he that is then born shall be a King; so when a Comet is the forerunner of the Sun at daybreak, it signifies the death of some great person.  
The Seventh said, That Comets do not so much foretell as cause Dearths and Famines, Wars and Seditions, burning Fevers, and other diseases, by the inflammation which they impress upon the Air, and by it upon all other bodies, and most easily upon our spirits. For seeing, twinkling, and falling Stars, are signs of great drought and impetuous winds, when they shoot from several parts of Heaven; how much more are those great fiery Meteors which we contemplate with such solicitude, and which act no less by conceit upon our souls then by their qualities upon our bodies. Which being found to have place in those of delicate constitutions, as great persons are, occasioned the opinion that those grand causes exercise their effects most powerfully upon people of high rank; besides, that the accidents which befall such persons are much more taken notice of, than those of the vulgar. But herein there is found less of demonstration then of conjecture.   

II. Whether Pardon be better than Revenge.  
Upon the second Point it was said, That there is none but prizes an action of clemency and forgiveness more than an action of vengeance. But all the difficulty is to distinguish what is done through fear from what proceeds from greatness of mind. Thus, when a Lion vouchsafes not to rise for a Cat or little Dog that comes near him, but employs his strength only against some more stout creature, this disdain is not called cowardice. But, when a man doth not revenge himself, if it be through inability 'tis prudence; if through fear, 'tis pusillanimity. Yet Alexander was deceived herein; for when two Dogs of extraordinary stature were presented to him, by a person who made great account of their courage, and he saw that one of them did not defend himself against other Dogs, he commanded him to be killed; and would have done as much by the other, had not he who presented them alleged that the Dog's neglect of revenging himself proceeded from eontempt of his opposers. Whereupon the King caused a mad Bull to be turned loose to the other Dog, who finding a subject fit to show his courage upon, flew upon him and tore him in pieces. It appears therefore that there is some resemblance in the action of him who forbears through poorness of spirit to revenge himself, and of him who doth it through greatness of courage. The sole difference consists in the power which the latter hath to vindicate himself, and the others wants. 'Tis demanded which of the two is most honourable in him who is able to do either; I conceive Pardoning the more honourable; not only, because it includes in itself the power of revenge; but because it shows a greater strength to overcome one's self than the strongest things in the world, and so become master, generally, of bodies and minds together.  
The Second said, That although at the first view it may seem that a man ought rather be inclinable to Pardon then Vengeance, because Nature hath for this purpose furnished him with Reason as his principal weapon, to which Forgiveness is an action particular, as proceeding from ratiocination, or, at least, from humanity; yet the desire of Revenge hath not been given us by Nature for a useless faculty, and such as ought not to be reduced into act. For this Desire is so great in us that it extends even to inanimate things. And to pass by the follies of Xerxes who caused the Sea to be beaten with stripes, and writ a challenge to mount Athos, in revenge of the fear which they had given him, and that of Cyrus who amuz'd his whole Army a long time, about the river of Gnidus, for the same cause: do we not see that little children are pacified when the table which hurt them is beaten, and that Gamesters many times tear the Cards in pieces with their teeth, and cast the Dice out of the window, to be revenged of their loss? Hence Anaxagoras said that even they who pardon always revenge themselves, because the satisfaction given them, or their remission of an offence, supplies the place of punishment.  
The Third said, 'Tis indeed natural to man, with all other living creatures, to preserve himself; which cannot be done but by repelling the injuries which are offered to us; nor this, but by revenge: For an injury is like fire which burns and reduces all into ashes unless it be timely remedied; one tolerated produces another, and by degrees brings us into the scorn of the world. Therefore the Divine Law agrees with the Lex Talionis, or Law of Requital, eye for eye, tooth for tooth. And as this vengeance is one of the principal qualities which God reserves to himself, so it is one of the chief parties both of public and private justice. He who is remiss in revenging affronts done him, is injust; first to himself, in being careless of maintaining his honour; and then to others, in that he suffers the respect to be violated which men owe one to another; yea, to him too who offends him, because he gives him encouragement to do as much to others, while he finds he may do so without impunity.  
The Fourth said, That Revenge is an encroachment upon the Authority of Laws both Divine and Humane; God hath reserved it to himself, wherewith to defend us; and yet himself revengeth no further than to four Generations, and pardons to a thousand. He hath as strictly bound us to forgiveness as to our own safety, since he permits us to pray to him daily for no more pardon than what we grant to those who offend us. Moreover, he who takes satisfaction in stead of executing it cannot more palpably declare the ill opinion he hath of the Laws under which he lives, and which he annihilates as far as lies in his power. 'Tis this accursed Misconceit which hath opened so wide a door to our duels and re-encounters, as can hardly be shut at this day by many Ordinances and Edicts. And if it imports the public, as the Lawyers hold, That no man abuse his own goods; how much less his life, whereof he hath but the use, and which is due to the service of his God and his King. Add hereunto, that as every thing which is violent is an enemy to Nature, and of no long duration; so people seldom find constraints and rigours to answer their purpose; Man never suffers himself to be wholly subdued and bound, no more than the Ox, saving by the strongest part, the one by the horns, the other by the will. Which caused Livia, the wife of Augustus, when she saw that the more he punished those who conspired against him the more new enemies he procured to himself, to advise her husband to try upon Cinna, one of them, whether pardon would not have better effect than Proscription. He did so, and this Conspirator became thereby so great a lover of the Emperor, that he afterwards merited by his services to be made his heir.  
The Fifth said, That there ought to be made a distinction of conditions; because 'tis as dangerous in a public person to be gentle and merciful, as 'tis commendable in a private. The mildness of a Judge towards a Robber is cruelty to the public; impunity being the Nurse of Vice. Moreover, among private persons too, their several professions are considerable. Socrates purposing to make himself an example of moderation had reason to slight the kicks that were given him, as he would have done the winsings of an Ass. But the Captain that should suffer so much must have otherwise given the world such testimony of his valour, as to avoid the imputation of cowardice. And, therefore, that man had no bad conceit, who seeing his friend perplexed for that he understood by the Horoscope of his two children, that one of them would be the greatest coward, and the other the greatest thief in the world, counselled him to make the one a Churchman, and to put the other to a profession whereunto the word Larron is an Epithet, being the latter would thereby turn the prediction into a mockery; and the defect of courage in the other would be attributed to the gentletleness whereunto ecclesiastics are more obliged than any others.  
The Sixth said, That without some vengeance we should not understand what Forgiveness means, as God's justice is that which sets off his mercy. Wherefore being these two actions mutually contribute to either's lustre, it cannot be known which of the two is absolutely to be preferred before the other; but it lies in the power of prudence to determine according to the variety of cases.    

CONFERENCE XLII.  
I. Of the Diversity of Languages. II. Whether is to be preferred, a good stature or a small.  

I. Of the diversity of Languages.  
WE have two notable examples in the Scripture; one of God's displeasure, when the Builders of the Tower of Babel were separated by the confusion of their Language; the other of his favour, when the Apostles were at the feast of Pentecost, as it were, united and incorporated into all Nations by the gift of Tongues. Here we only adore Mysteries but fathom them not; we seek the natural causes of the variety of speech, and whether, as there was but one at the first, so the same may be recovered again, or any other found that may be universal to all people. As to the first, the variety alone of the Organs seems sufficient to diversify speech. Those Nations whose wind-pipes were more free easily retained the Hebrew aspirations, if so be this Language were the first, and not the Syriack, as some hold, alleging that its characters speak greatest antiquity; or the Samaritan, because the Thorath, which is the law of God, was written in it, as also the most ancient Medals found in Palestine were stamped with it. They whose breasts were more robust framed the Germane and other Languages, which are pronounced with greater impetuosity: the more delicate made the Greek Tongue; the middle sort, the Latin; and their posterity, degenerating, the Italian, which is pronounced only with the outer part of the lips: and so of all the rest. Whence it is that strangers never pronounce our Language perfectly, nor we theirs; which caused Scaliger to tell a German who spoke to him in Latin, but pronounced it after his own way, that he must excuse him, for he did not understand Dutch. Now every one of these Original Languages was changed again proportionably to the distance from its centre, as circles made by a stone cast into the water lose their figure as they become wider. Afterwards happened the transplantations of Nations, who with the confusion of blood and manners brought also that of speech; for the Conquerors desiring to give Law to the vanquished as well in this as in all other things, and the Organs of the people being unapt for the pronunciation of a foreign tongue, hence of the mixture of two arose a third. Thus much for the first point. But as for the second, which is to reduce all Languages to one, I hold the thing impossible. For all things which are merely of humane institution, as Language is, are as different as opinions are. And if one and the same Tongue hath sundry very different Idioms and Dialects, as the French hath the Breton, the Gascon, the Poitevin, the Parisian, and many others, as different as the French from the Italian (which hath in like manner the Roman, the Tusean, the Neapolitan, and the Sicilian, all very differing) with much more reason shall Nations divided by Seas and Climates speak diversely. The opinions of men, even of Philosophers themselves, touching the same subject, could never be reconciled; and can it be imagined that all tongues should ever agree? Nature affects nothing so much as variety, which serves for discrimination of individuals. Two men never writ or spoke alike; and we see that even the gestures and postures of others cannot be perfectly imitated by those who use their utmost care therein; how then shall conformity be found in the expression of our thoughts? besides, there being no connexion or affinity between things and words, which not only signify several things in several Languages, but have different acceptions in the same Language, witness Homonymous words, 'tis loss of time to think of such a design.  
The Second said, That to judge of a River, it must be taken at its source. Languages are the several ways of interpreting or declaring our conceptions; and these are the means which our mind makes use of to conceive the species or images of things. It knows them according as they are represented to it; and they are represented to it according to the truth of the object, when the conditions requisite to sensation or perception by sense concur, namely, a due disposition of the object, medium, and Organ. As therefore when all these conditions are right, it cannot be but all persons of the world must agree in one and the same judgement, and all say (e. g.) that this Rose is red, and that other white; so it may seem that men should agree together in the copy and transcript, since they do so in the Prototype; that is, have one and the same Language, since they have one and the same conception. Otherwise, as to this communication with his own species, man will be inferior to other animals, who signify their passions and inclinations so plainly and intelligibly among themselves that they answer one the other afar off? Moreover, abundance of words are the express and natural image of the things designed by them, as Taffeta, to hiss, to creak or clash, to bounce, to howl or yell, and many others. There are words which keep the same number of letters in all the learned Languages, particularly the name of God; which holds also in some modern, as in the French, Dutch, etc. but not in ours. There are others, which vary not at all, but are one and the same among all Nations; as the word Sac. Many things expressed by the same characters in writing are read by each people in their own Tongue, as Figures, or Ciphers, which are read and pronounced otherwise in Hebrew, and Greek, then in Latin or French, and yet they are taken by all to signify the same thing. The same may be said of the Hieroglyphics and letters of China, yea of all the figures of the Mathematics. For every one knows a Circle, a Triangle, and a Square, although each Nation denominate the same diversely. What hinders then but as all Nations have conspired and agreed together in those visible words, so they may do too in those which are pronounced?  
The Third said, That to the end words may make things understood by all the world, they ought to be signs of them; either natural, as smoke is of fire, or by institution, depending upon a very intelligible principle or occasion, as when a Bush denotes a Tavern. As for the first, many dumb persons express their conceptions so genuinely by signs that all the world understands them; and the Mimics and Pantomimes of Rome were so excellent in this kind, that Roscius (one of them) sometimes bid defiance to Ciero, that he would express as perfectly by his gestures and postures, whatsoever he pleased, as that incomparable Orator could do by his words. And as those who are not given to writing have the best memories, so those who have not that use of speech are more excellent than others in speaking by signs and understanding them; there being seen in our days a dumb man who answered pertinently to all that was spoken to him, only by beholding the motion of the speaker's lips: which is also the reason why blind men, attending only to improve the sense of Hearing, best observe all differences of speech. Whence I draw this consequence, that the same may be practised in all other things which signify by humane institution, and so there may be an universal Language. But the easiness every one finds in making himself understood by the Language and Writing which is familiar to him, renders men careless of advancing this excellent Design, which would be a means to spare the best time which our youth spends in learning the words of strange Tongues, instead of applying themselves solely to the knowledge of things.  
The Fourth said, That the possibility of this Project appears, in that there is an order in nature, or, at least, consequent to the very nature of things, according to which we may place, next after the Creator the created spiritual substances, than the corporeal (one after another, according to their dignity) particularly the corporeal according to their place, as the Heavens first, and in them the Stars, according to their dignity; the Earth and its Animals, the Sea and its Fishes; the Plants according to their magnitudes; those which are equal therein, according to their virtues, and other accidents: doing the same, with Metals, Minerals, bodies perfectly and imperfectly compounded by nature and by art, and with the Elements: then we may come to the Categories of accidents to which every thing in the world may be reduced and put in its right place. Whereby it is evident that not only all things have their order but also that he who learns them according to this order, easily avoids confusion, the mother of ignorance. It remains, now, to find out an order of words too, which answers to that of things; the first to the first, and the second to the second; which order is so natural to them, that children make use of it to find out every thing which they seek in Dictionaries and Lexicons according to the order of the Alphabet. And I know not whether we ought not to begin this handsome gradation and situation of all things in their rank, correspondent to the order of the letters, with the style that God gives himself, Alpha and Omega. But it cannot but be admired that the first combination of the letters makes Ab and Aba, which signifies Father, the first place being due to the Author and Father of all things.   

II. Whether is to be preferred a great Stature or a small.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That largeness of body seems to be preferable, as well because the word Magnitude or Grandeur always includes some perfection in itself, as because the Gods were anciently represented of a size exceeding the ordinary. Which made Aristotle say, that not only the greatness of the Heroes rendered them famous of old, but that their Figures and Statues are venerable at this day. Moreover, we see that Saul, the first King chosen by God for his own people, was taller by the head then all the rest of the Israelites. And amongst the conditions of Beauty, magnitude so universally holds the first place, that women advance themselves upon high Shoes, and Patins, that they may seem the handsomer. How well shaped soever a little man be, he is never of so majestical a presence as one that is taller. Whence you see little men affect to seem greater, but never any tall men desire to be less. Now the same Proportion which is between a Man and his habitation, is found between the soul and the body which is its Mansion. For as he who hath the largest house will be accounted to be better lodged than he who dwells in a Cottage, though they be persons otherwise of equal condition; so 'tis probable, that souls (which are all equal) find themselves better lodged in a great body then in a small, and exercise all their functions with much more freedom.  
The Second said, That if magnitude put the value upon men, the same should hold in animals: nevertheless, the Elephant yields to the Fox, yea to the Pismire; the Ostrich to the Nightingale; and the Whale is the most stupid of all Fishes. Moreover, nothing hinders the divine operations of the soul but the load of the body, whereby the imperfection of our nature places us below the wholly incorporeal Intelligences; and therefore the less the body is, the nearer we approach the Angelical nature, and our spirit is less impeded by the matter. Hence little men are not only the most quickwitted, but also the most active and nimble; for that the strength is more united in them, and diffused and dissipated in others. Great and robust bodies, as being fitter for labour, were made to obey the small and tender, which have more spirit than flesh. Whence the Romans gave the Civil and Military charges to little men, and sent the greater to guard the Baggage, as those who gave the enemies more aim than the less. Nor are the greater more proper for other Arts; which made the Poet say as a thing impossible, Sambucam potius caloni aptaveris alto.— And Samuel was reproved by God for offering to prefer the tall Stature of the eldest son of Jesse before the small size of David his youngest, as if the Israelites had been displeased with the large body of Saul. The Poets could not represent an enraged Cyclops, and furious Ajax, but under great bodies, as, on the contrary, they made Ulysses very small. And indeed natural Reasons agree well herein. For amongst the causes of the body's growth, the material is a slimy or viscous humidity; whence Fish grow most, and in shortest time. This Humidity is, as it were, Glue or Birdlime to the soul, hindering it from exercising its functions freely: and therefore women, being more humid, have less wit than men; and Fish are less disciplinable than the rest of animals. The efficient is a very gentle heat; for were it too great it would consume the matter in stead of dilating and fashioning it, and dry the solid parts too much, upon the increasing of which depends that of the rest of the body. This is the reason why all gelt animals grow most, and amongst Birds of prey the females are always greater than the males; the excess of their heat being tempered by the humidity of their Sex; and young persons are found to have grown extraordinarily after Quotidian Agues which are caused by Phlegm; so that it is not hard for such pernicious causes to produce a good effect.  
The Third said, That every thing is to be commended and esteemed according to the use for which it is appointed. Now Man being born for Reason and the functions of the Mind, and having received a Body to be an instrument to him of Knowledge by making a faithful report to him of what passes without, by means of the species conveyed through the senses into the fancy: Upon which the Intellect making reflection forms the like in itself, and thus all Notions are produced; it follows that neither the great stature nor the little are to be esteemed. But 'tis demanded, Which of the two is the less evil; I conceive, with the Physicians, that the great is less incommodious in youth, as being then more proper for exercises, whose toil it can better under-go, especially those of Warr. And therefore when Marius levied Soldiers, he suffered none to pass the Muster but such as could not walk under a measure raised six foot from the ground. But in old age, when the natural heat is more languid, and consequently less able to discharge all its functions in a large Body, the small size is best: And little old men are never so crooked as others; besides that their coldness serves to moderate the ardour of the choler which is attributed to little men, because their spirits having not so much room to run about, agitate them sooner, and more violently than others.  
The Fourth said, As every living thing hath bounds of its perfection, so it hath of its greatness or smallness; which, if it exceeds or falls short of, 'tis held monstrous and besides Nature, as Giants and Dwarves. But because this term of magnitude hath a great latitude, 'tis hard to know, precisely, which is the least or greatest stature whereunto Man may naturally attain; and which is the middle, and consequently who deserve the name of great or little; considering that the same is various, according to places and climates, and according to every one's particular temper or first conformation, which ordinarily follows the proportion which the seed of the Father and Mother bears with the Idea of their species, if the too great or too little quantity of the matter, or the capacity of the place permit. For the Northern people are large, the Southern small. Those between the 28. and the 38. climate are of middle stature; and one that would be called a tall person among the little, will be accounted little among the tall. Constitutions likewise contribute very much hereunto. Those who are dry by Nature are usually small. Such as are too moist grow more in thickness then in the other dimension; it being the property of humidity not to mount easily upwards, unless it be accompanied with heat; for then the Agent and the Patient being rightly disposed to extend every part, the whole is augmented. Therefore as the Phegmatick temper is most prone to fatness, so the sanguine contributes to tallness; especially if the persons live idly and feed well. Hence it is that the men before the Deluge are noted by the Scripture to have been Giants, because they lead idle, and voluptuous lives. As, on the contrary, Fasting, Watching, and immoderate Labour in the time destinated for men to grow, which reaches not much beyond twenty five years of age, hinder the attaining of the just measure intended by nature; which Divines refer to that of Adam and our Saviour; as their bodies were also the rule of the proportion which our members ought to have one to another, and the temper of their humours the standard of ours: whence they were the healthfullest and goodliest of all men: but they were of tall stature.    

CONFERENCE XLIII.  
I. Of the Philosopher's stone. II. Of Mont de piety, or charitable provision for the Poor.  

I. Of the Philsopher's stone.  
THe Poets, not without reason, feigned that the gods left hope to men in the bottom of Pandora's box, after all their other goods were flown out of it. For nature being unwilling to show herself a Stepmother to man hath made such provision, that the almost infinite unhappy accidents of life cannot so much cast him down on one hand, as hope raises him up on the other. And, not to speak of that first of Christian virtues, which accompanies him even in death, and serves him for an Anodyne in all his miseries; is he under the rod, he comforts himself with hope to get free from it; is he of mean extraction, he hopes to ennoble himself by his exploits; is he poor, he encourages himself to labour with the possibility of becoming rich; is he sick, the hope of recovery supports his fainting Spirits; yea, when ordinary means fail him, he is not out of heart. But if there be any thing worthy of laughter to those who cannot apprehend it, or of admiration to him that will further philosophise about the odd motions of humane minds, this is one, how 'tis possible that an old, decrepit, poor, diseased person, should nevertheless not despair of having the train of a Prince one day; and not only hope to be cured, but to become a young man again. Yet all this is phancy'd by the seekers of the Philosopher's stone, which is the grand work, the Panacea, the Elixir, and the Universal Restaurator. Now this most extravagant conceit, joined to the other absurdities of that Chimerical Art, makes me believe that it is good for nothing but to serve for imaginary consolation to the miserable.  
The Second said, That the Chemists who exercise it, are of two sorts. Some by their sophistications give tinctures to Metals which they promise to transmute by their mixture, fixation, cementation, and other operations. Others, who are called the true Sons of Art, do not amuse themselves about particular things, but solely about the grand work; at which they all aim, though by several courses. Some think to attain it by blowing, and usually make a mixture of Quicksilver and Gold, which they keep nine months in a small furnace over the flame of a lamp. Some conceive, that 'tis a very plain operation, (terming it Child's work) and that there needs only the knowledge of the matter, the fire, the vessel, and the manner; the rest being done of itself. Yet others attribute this work only to Revelation, saying that the Artist must only pray to God; and they believe it is mentioned in the Holy Scripture, where it is said, That much clay is requisite to the making of pots, but only a little dust to the making of Gold; that 'twas this Wisdom which made Solomon so rich, that, by the testimony of Scripture, Gold was common in his days as stones; that the Gold of Ophir was that which this Philosophical stone had transmuted, far more excellent than the natural; and that the ships he set forth to fetch it were only parables and figures; like the golden fleece, which was nothing but a parchment wherein this secret was written. But most hold an opinion composed of these two, saying, that the Manual operation must be assisted by extraordinary favour from Heaven. I conceive, with them, that there is such a thing as the Philosopher's stone, or, at least, that it is possible; that Salt is its matter, and Motion its fire. For since these two are found every where, this property agrees very well to them; Salt being extracted out of all Bodies, and Heat proceeding from their friction one against another, in imitation of that which the Heavens excite here below.  
The Third said, The Philosopher's stone is a Powder of Projection, a very little of which being cast upon imperfect Metals, (as all are, except Gold) purifies and cures them of their Leprosy and impurity, in such a manner, that having first taken away their feculency, and then multiplied their degrees, they acquire a more perfect nature: Metals not differing among themselves, but in degrees of perfection. It is of two sorts; the white, which serves to make Silver; and the red, which being more concocted is proper to make Gold. Now to attain it, you need only have the perfect knowledge of three things, to wit, the Agent, the Matter, and the Proportion requisite to the end the Agent may educe the form out of the bosom of that Matter, duly prepared by the application of actives to passives. The first two are easy to be known. For the Agent is nothing else but Heat, either of the Sun or of our common fire, or of a dunghill, which they call a Horse's belly, or of Balneum Mariae, (hot water) or else that of an Animal. The patients are Salt, Sulphur, or Mercury, Gold, Silver, Antimony, Vitriol, or some little of such other things, the experience whereof easily shows what is to be expected from them. But the Application of the Agent to the Patient, the determination of the degrees of Heat, and the utmost preparation and disposition of the Matter, cannot be known but by great labour and long experience: Which being difficult, thence we see more delusions and impostures in this Art then truths. Nevertheless Histories bear witness, that Hermes Trismegistus, Glauber, Raimond Lul, Arnauld, Flamel, Trevisanus, and some others, had knowledge of it. But because for those few that are said to have it, almost infinite others have been ruined by it, therefore the search of it seems more curious than profitable.  
The Fourth said, That as Mathematicians have by their search after the Quadrature of a circle arrived to the knowledge of many things which were before unknown to them; so though the Chemists have not discovered the Philosopher's stone, yet they have found out admirable secrets in the three families of Vegetables, Animals, and Minerals. But it not the less possible, although none should ever attain it, not only for this general reason, that Nature gives us no desire in vain, but particularly because all Metals are of the same species, being made of one and the same Matter, (Sulphur and Mercury) and concocted by one and the same celestial heat; not differing but in concoction alone, as the grains of the same raisin do, which ripen at several times. This is evident by the extraction of Gold and Silver out of all Metals, even out of Lead and Iron, the most imperfect of them. So that the Art ought not to be judged inferior in this matter to all others which it perfectionates. Moreover, the Greek Etymology of Metals shows that they are transmutable one into another.  
The Fifth said, That as in the production of Corn by Nature, the seed and the fat of the Earth are its matter, and its efficient is partly internal, included in the grain, and partly external, viz. the heat of the Sun, and the place in the bosom of the Earth; so in the production of Gold by Art, its matter is Gold itself and its Quicksilver; and the efficient cause, is partly, in the Gold, partly in the external heat; the place is the furnace, containing the Egg of Glass, wherein the matter is enclosed, dissolveed and grows black, called the Crow's head, waxes white, and then is hardened into a red mass, the hardness whereof gives it the name of a stone; which being reduced into powder, and kept three days in a vessel hermetically sealed upon a strong fire, acquires a purple colour; and one dram of it converts two hundred of Quicksilver into pure Gold; yea, the whole Sea, were it of like substance.  
The Sixth said, That Art indeed may imitate, but cannot surpass Nature. But it should, if we could change other metals into Gold; which is impossible to Nature itself, even in the Mines, in how long time soever; those of Iron, Led, Tin, or Copper, never becoming Mines of Gold or Silver. Therefore much less can the Alchemist do it in his furnaces, no more than he can produce some thing more excellent than Gold, as this Philosophical stone would be; Gold being the most perfect compound of all mixed bodies, and for that reason incorruptible. And indeed how should these Artists accomplish such a work, when they are not agreed upon the next matter of it, nor upon the efcien tcause, time, place, and manner of working; there being as many opinions as there are different Authors. Moreover, 'tis untrue that all Metals are of one species, and differ only in degree of concoction; for Iron is more concocted than Silver, as also more hard, and less fusible; and their difference was necessary in reference to humane uses. Now perfect species which are under the same next genius, as Metals are, can never be transmuted one into another, no more than a Horse into a Lyon. Yea, could this Philosophical stone act upon Metals, yet it would not produce Gold or Silver, but other stones like itself, or only imprint upon them its own qualities, according to the ordinary effects of all natural Agents. And if it were true that the powder of Gold produced other Gold, being cast upon Metals, as a grain of wheat brings forth many others being cast into the Earth; it would be requisite to observe the same order and progress in the multiplication of Gold which Men do in that of grains of Wheat. Yet the Chemists do not so, but will have their multiplication to be made in an instant.  
The Seventh said, That since Art draws so many natural effects out of fitting matter, as Worms, Serpents, Frogs, Mice, Toads and Bees; although the subject of these Metamorphoses be much more difficult to be disposed and made susceptible of a sensitive soul then insensible metal is to receive a Form divisible like its matter; he saw no absurdity in it, but that at least by the extraordinary instruction of good or bad spirits some knowledge of this operation may be derived to men; considering, that we see other species naturally transformed one into another, as Egyptain Nitre into stone, a Jasper into an Emerald, the herb Basil into wild Thyme, Wheat into Darnel, a Caterpillar into a Butterfly: yea, if we will believe the Scotch, they have a Tree, whose fruit falling into the water is turned into a Bird.   

II. Of a Mont de Pieté or Bank for lending to the Poor.  
Upon the second Point it was said, That Charity toward our Neighbour being the most certain sign of Piety towards God; and Hills having been chosen almost by all Nations to sacrifice upon, as nearest to Heaven; upon these accounts the name of Mont de Pieté hath been given to all institutions made for relief of the poor; whereof lending money for their necessity being one of the principal effects, the public places established for that use retain this name in sundry parts of Italy, Flanders, and many other States; and some have been erected in all Cities of this Kingdom, by the King's Edict of February 1626. and the more willingly because Popes were the first Institutors of them; as that at Rome was instituted by Clement VII. in the year 1526. and increased by Paul III. and Sixtus V. that of Avignon by Paul IU. and others by Pius V. and Julius III. Now because it is not reasonable to lend without security, and the poor ordinarily give not any but their moveables, therefore the name of Mont de Pieté is attributed only to the lending upon Pledges or Pawns. But to the end this Institution might merit the name bestowed upon it, it were to be desired that this loan were gratuitous and free, according to the Gospel precept, Lend, hoping for nothing again (Luke 6. 35.) conformably to the ancient Law of God, which forbade the Jews to take any thing of their Brethren, besides the principal sum. But to make even for this, they have every where practised such excessive Usury towards all other Nations, that the same is turned into a Proverb, to denote such exaction as is unmeasurable, and odious to all the world.  
The Second said, That it hath always been the intention of Legislators to forbid Usury, called by the Hebrews with good reason Neschech, Biting; which always hurts, how little soever it be. And forasmuch as the avarice of men hath continually withstood that natural Law, which allows not fruit to produce other fruit, nor yet the principal sum any interest, silver being barren of itself; therefore Usury was limited by the Law Duilia to a Denier in two hundred; and the Usurer was more severely punished then the Thief; the latter being condemned but to pay double, and the other quadruple. The reason of which seems to be, for that it is requisite in a State that the rich help the poor; and because the harmony of a society ceases when some one part is swelled beyond measure while the others pine and languish; Hence it was that God instituted Jubilees, which re-established the Jews every fiftieth year in the inheritances of their Fathers; and elsewhere that was introduced which they called the new Tables, being a general discharge of all debts without payment. Now what hath been practised since to the contrary is a mere toleration, of which heed must be taken, that it become not a Law, no more than other unjust things; which yet are suffered for the eschewing of worse inconveniences.  
The Third said, Charity hath three degrees. The first is of those who give. The second of those who lend freely. But because these two are very rare, and besides imply some disparagement to the receiver, the third degree is, to lend upon moderate profit: which loan ceases not to retain the Epithet of charitable, if the Creditor exact not his debt too severely, but allow for the default of time and other circumstances. And the humanity of those who promote lending upon pledges is very beneficial to the poor, who for the most part not having immovables enough, clear from mortgage, to secure their Creditors, deprive them of the means to relieve themselves by their moveables without selling them; which sundry considerations oftentimes hinder them from doing. Besides, 'tis the opinion of many Lawyers, that the whole estate of a man taken in gross is in the eye of the Law accounted immovables, although he have only moveables.  
The Fourth said, That unless a new world were framed, and every particular person inspired with charity towards his Neighbour equal to the love which he bears to himself, 'tis impossible to bring men to lend freely one to another. This is verified by the Law of the Locrenses, which strictly forbidding them to lend upon Usury, they forbore not to pervert this Law publicly, the Borrower feigning to steal the Creditor's money, who thereupon took witness of it, and in case the Debtor failed to pay him his interest, caused him to be condemned as a Thief. From which corrupt practice the inventions of our changes and rechanges, loans upon Obligations and Pawns, are not much different; saving that these latter, being used ordinarily with persons whose necessity is most urgent, are likewise more unequitable. So that the same may be said concerning this kind of lending, which a Turk said once to Mahomet when he forbade the use of Wine to that Nation, Thou canst not, said he, keep us from drinking Wine, since we shall always drink it in secret; but thou mayst keep us from violating and transgressing thy Law, by permitting the same to us. Thus, being experience hath manifested to Legislators that it is impossible to hinder lending upon profit; even Charity ought to induce them to take away the prohibition of it, to the end men may offend no longer. Moreover, he that would otherwise remain idle, by this means finds wherewith to exercise his Art or Trade; and money, which would be unprofitable to all such as have only personal estates, affords profit to the owners: besides that 'tis of great advantage to persons under age, many of whom having their fortune in money would otherwise devour the main stock, in stead of finding it increased by their thriftiness in their nonage. Besides that estates in land being already very dear, would become beyond all value, and by that means scarce be of any benefit, considering their excessive price.  
The Fifth said, that the principal difficulty to erect a Mont de Pieté, or Bank for the poor, consists in such conditions as are much more tolerable than the ordinary lend upon Pawns. Now those conditions concern two sorts of persons, namely, those who put money into the Bank, and those who borrow thence. Now 'tis fit to make as good composition as can be had with the first; according to what is practised in Italy, there may be found persons, who having not a stock of money sufficient to maintain them in case they should take no more than the interest allowed by the Làws of their Country, put their principal into the Bank, on condition to receive a Pension or Annuity for life above the ordinary interest. Others put a small sum in upon the birth of a child, on condition that the child shall receive a considerable one (agreed upon between them) at his marriage; which sum, in case of death, accrues to the Bank or Mont. But the same licence must not be given to the Creditors, to extort the best terms they can from their Debtors, whose necessity many times receives any Law they please to prescribe them. I conceive, therefore, that there ought to be made faithful supputation of what the interest of the principal (at the lowest rate it can be had) the wages of Officers necessary for prising, keeping, receiving and delivering of Pawns, and selling the same in case of need, will amount to: that so what this charge comes to may be taken for profit upon the Pawn, and added to the principal; but the remainder restored to the owner. And nothing above this is to be suffered.    

CONFERENCE XLIV.  
I. How Minerals grow. II. Whether it be best to know a little of every thing, or one thing exactly.  

I. How Minerals grow.  
UNder Minerals are comprehended, Metals, Stones, and all sorts of Fossilia, or things digged out of the earth. The causes of their growing or augmentation are here enquired. All the world agrees that they grow, excepting those who hold that God created them at the beginning together with the earth. But they who have kept a stone in water for a long time, and find the same increased in bigness, will confute that opinion by this experiment; as also the experience of Miners doth, who having exhausted a Mine of its Metal find more in it after some years; and when they discover Mines, as yet imperfect, they cover the same again with earth, and after some space of time find them fit to be wrought upon, and, as it were, arrived to their maturity. This is also verified by that Chemical operation, called vegetable Gold; and pieces of Cinnabar (or Quicksilver mingled with Sulphur) melted and put amongst the filings of Silver, being set over a furnace in a well luted Vessel produceth pure Silver, though of less profit than curiosity. For this visible artifice seems to prove the invisible one of nature, according to the opinion of Philosophers, who hold that all Metals are made of Quicksilver and Sulphur. So that we must not seek other causes of their generation and increasing then a new accession of that matter, either gliding along the veins of the earth, or reduced first into vapour by heat, and then condensed by cold.  
The Second said, That he was of Cardan's opinion who assigns a particular vegetative soul to all Minerals as well as to all Plants, whereunto they have great resemblance, not only in that they have some virtues and faculties alike (yea far more excellent) which cannot come but from a principle of life (since action is the indication of life) but also because they grow according to all their dimensions, as Plants do; have a conformation and configuration, which is common to Plants with them; attract, retain and concoct the nourishment which they receive from the earth by their veins and passages, and have also an expulsive faculty which is not in Plants, casting forth their dross, and exhaling their superfluous vapours. They have also roots and barks as Trees have; their substance is of parts organical, and really dissimilar, though in appearance some of them seem to be similar and homogeneous; and Led, out of which are extracted Salt or Sugar, Quicksilver and Sulphur, is no more a similar body then Ebeny, Box, and Milk, out of which such different substances are drawn.  
The Third said, That before we can know whether Minerals live, we must first understand how life is caused in man, who is to be as the rule of all living things. It consists but in one sole action, to wit, that of Heat upon Humidity, which it rarefies and subtilizes, causing the same to ascend by little and little out of the intestines through the Mesentery to the Liver, Heart and Brain; in each of which it casting off its excrementitious parts, it acquires a new perfection, the utmost in the Brain, where it becomes a very thin spirit capable of receiving any form, even that of light, as appears by the internal splendour of our sight, and that brightness which is sometimes seen outwardly upon some Bodies. In Plants are found the like cavities destinated to receive and prepare their nourishment which heat attracts into them; and their knots are so many repositories, wherein that heat is reunited and takes new strength, till being arrived at the top of the Plant, according to the rectitude of the fibres, it circulates the matter so carried up that it spreads into branches, leaves and fruit. For as humidity is of itself immovable, and incapable of any action, so being accompanied with heat it moves every way; and there is no need of admitting an attractive faculty in each part, since it is carried thereunto sufficiently of itself. Natural heat indeed drives it upwards, but all unusual heat makes it break out collaterally, as is seen in sweat; for no eruption of humidity is caused but by the excess of some strange heat, not proper or natural. Now we may observe these tokens of life in the production of Minerals; their vaporous matter being first sublimed and purified by heat, and then incorporated with themselves. But because all Nature's works are occult, and the instrument she uses (to wit, natural heat) is imperceptible, 'tis no wonder if it be hard to know truly how Minerals hid in the earth grow, since we are ignorant how the accretion of Plants exposed to our view is made; we perceive them to have grown, but not to grow; as the shadow on on the Dyal is observed to have gone its round, yet appears not to move at all. Nevertheless, the Arborists would have us except the Plant of Aloes out of this number, whose flower and trunk at a certain time shoot forth so high, and so speedily, that the motion thereof is perceptible to the eye.  
The Fourth said, That the generation of some Minerals is effected by heat, and of others by cold; the former, by coction, and the latter by concretion or co-agulation; which two agents are discovered by the dissolution of Metals: For such as are made by cold are melted by its contrary, Heat; as Led, Silver, and other Metals; and those which are made by heat, dissolve in water, as all Salts; provided, neither the one nor the other be so compact and close that they admit not the qualities of their contraries; for which reason Glass which is concocted by fire is not dissolved in water; and the Diamond, Marble, and some other stones, congealed by cold, are not melted by fire. But their accretion is not made by any vital principle, but only by a new apposition of matter. Moreover, they have no sign of inward life, as nutrition, equal and uniform augmentation in all their parts (which should be distinct and organised) certain constant terms and limits of magnitude, and resemblance of figure and conformation, both internal, and external between all individuals of the same species. For Minerals having no cavities cannot receive aliment inwardly. They grow as long as matter is supplied to them, and that inequally. Their figure is indeterminate and various, according to the casual application of their matter in the veins of the earth; and their parts are all alike. The barks, roots, and veins attributed to them have nothing but the shape of those things, not the use, no more than the paps of men. Nor do they bear flowers, fruits or seeds, nor produce or multiply themselves any other way, as Plants do.  
The Fifth said, We give appellations or names to things from their external form, because their internal is unknown to us. Now divers Minerals have the same proportion that Trees have; and the cause why Mines are larger, is because they are not agitated by winds, nor in danger of falling, as Trees are, to whose magnitude, for that reason, Nature hath been constrained to set bounds; and although Minerals grow much more than they, yet it does not follow that they have not certain terms prefixed to their quantity. If they bear neither flowers nor fruits, 'tis so too with some Plants upon which the Sun shines not, as the Capillary Herbs which grow in the bottom of Wells, and some others also, as Fern. And the case is the same with this common Mother the Earth, as with Nurses; for as when they become with child the infant whom they suckle dyes; so where there are Mines under the Earth, nothing grows upon the surface. The decaying and old age of stones is also a sign of their being vital, as appears by the Loadstone, which loseth its strength in time, and needs filings of Iron to preserve its life. All which being joined to what Scaliger relates, that in Hungary there are threads of gold issuing out the earth, after the manner of Plants, persuades me that Minerals have a particular soul besides that universal spirit which informs the world and its parts; but this soul is as much inferior to that of Plants, as the vegetative is below the sensitive.   

II. Whether it be best to know a little of every thing, or one thing perfectly.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, Sciences are the goods of the mind, and the riches of the soul. And as 'tis not sufficient to happiness to have riches, but the possesser must be able to preserve and enjoy them: so 'tis not enough to have a great stock of notions, but they must be brought into the light and put in practice. Now this is done better by him who understands but one single thing perfectly, then by him who knows a little of all, ordinarily with confusion, which is the mother of ignorance. This is what they call knowing a little of every thing; and of all, nothing. For being our mind is terminated, the object of its knowledge ought to be so too; whence it is that we cannot think of two thing, at the same time. Thus, of all the world mine eye and my mind can see but one thing at one time, one single Tree in a Forest, one Branch in a whole Tree; yea, perfectly but one single Leaf in a whole Branch: the exception of the mind, like that of the eye, being made by a direct line, which hath but one sole point of incidence. And the least thing, yea the least part is sufficient to afford employment to the humane soul. Hence the consideration of a Fly detained Lucian so long; that of a Pismire exercised the wit of a Philosopher three and forty years. That of the Ass sufficiently busied Apuleius. Chrysippus the Physician writ an entire volumn of the Colewort; Martion and Diocles of the Turnip and Rape; Phanias, of the Nettle; King Juba, of Euphorbium; Democritus, of the number of Four; and Messala made a volumn upon each Letter. Even the Flea hath afforded more matter to sundry good wits of this age, than they found how to dispose of. How then can man, who is ignorant of the vilest things, be sufficient to know all?  
The Second said, If the word knowledge be taken strictly for a true knowledge by the proper causes, 'tis better to know a little of every thing than one thing alone. If for a superficial knowledge, 'tis better to know one thing solidly then all superficially; that is, a little well, than all badly. For 'tis not barely by action that the Faculty is perfected, but by the goodness of the action. One shot directly in the mark is better than a hundred thousand beside it; one single Science which produces truth is more valuable than all others which afford only likelihoods, (and all conjectural knowledge is no more) wherewith nevertheless almost all our Sciences overflow; out of which were all that is superfluous extracted, it would be hard to find in each of them enough to make a good Chapter: as appears by the small number of Demonstrations which can be made in any Science; yet those are the only instruments of knowledge. Hence it is, that he who applies himself to many Sciences never succeeds well in them, but loses himself in their Labyrinth; for the Understanding can do but one thing well, no more than the Will can. Friendship divided, is less; as a River which hath more than one Channel, is less rapid; and he that hunts two hares catches none. Of this we have many instances in Nature, which ennables the Organs to perform but one action, the Eye to see, and the Ear to hear; and one tree brings forth but one kind of fruit. In well governed Families each officer discharges but one employment; In States well ordered no Artificer exercises above one Trade, whereas in Villages one workman undertakes five or six Mysteries, and performs none well; like the knife or sword of Delphos, spoken of by Aristotle, which served to all uses, but was good for none.  
The Third said, The Understanding being a most subtle fire, a Spirit always indefatigably moving, and which hath received all things for its portion; 'tis too great injustice to retrench its inheritance, to clip its wings, and confine it to one object; as they would do who would apply it but to one single thing, not considering that the more fuel you supply to this fire, the more it increases, & is able to devour. Moreover, it hath a natural desire to know every thing; & to go about to confine it to one, were to limit the conquests of Alexander to an acre of Land. And as every Faculty knows its object in its whole latitude, and according to all its species and differences; the Eye perceives not only green and blue, but all visible, coloured, and luminous things; the Touch feels cold, hot, soft, hard things, and all the tactile qualities; the Fancy is carried to every sensible good, the Will loves all that is good and convenient: In like manner the Understanding, which is the principal Faculty of Man; and though it be most simple, yet comprehends all things (as the Triangle, the first and simplest of all figures, contains them all in itself, since they may be resolved into, and proved by it) ought not to be in worse condition than the others its inferiors, but must be carried towards its object in the whole extent thereof, that is, know it. If sundry things cannot be conceived at a time, that hinders not but they may successively. Besides that the variety of objects recreates the Faculties as much as the repetition of one and the same thing tires, enervates, and dulls it.  
The Fourth said, All things desire good, but not all goods. So, though Men be naturally desirous of knowing, yet they have a particular inclination to know one thing rather than another, infused into every one for the preservation of Sciences. Which end of Nature would be frustrated, should we run to the inquisition of new Sciences before we have attained the first, considering the brevity of our lives compared with the amplitude of Arts. Wherefore it were more expedient not only that every one applied himself to that whereunto he finds himself inclined, but that there were as many distinct Artists as the Art hath principal parts; and that, for example, as Physic hath been commodiously divided between Physicians, Chirugeons, and Apothecaries, which were anciently but one, so their functions were again subdivided. Because by this means every one of them would attain a more perfect knowledge of his Subject. Therefore Plato instead of cultivating, as he could have done, the spacious field of Philosophy, applied himself only to Metaphysics, Socrates to Morality, Democritus to Natural Philosophy, Archimedes to the Mathematics. For they who would possess all the parts of a Science at once are like those who should try to pluck off a Horse's tail at one pull, instead of doing it hair by hair. Whence it was said of Erasmus, that he had been greater, if he had been contented to be less.  
The Fifth said, That determination of the question depends upon the capacity of wits. For as in a poor little Mansion where there is not room enough to place all necessary moveables, 'twere impertinence to desire to place such as serve only for luxury and ornament: So mean wits, yea, the indifferent, such as most are, take safer course in keeping to those few things of which they have most use, then if they embraced too many, for fear of verifying the Proverb, He that grasps too much holds nothing. But there are some Heroic Spirits, capable of every thing, and of which, comparing them to others, that may be said which a Father once said of the different degrees of bliss, comparing the Souls of the blessed to vessels of several sizes, all filled from the same Fountain. There are little vulgar capacities, which the initiation of a Science, or the Etymology of a word satisfies, and they never get beyond the Apprenticeship of the least trade. Others are so transcendent, that they go, like the Sun, into all corners of the world without being wearied or contaminated with several objects. Nothing tires them but rest. They draw every thing to themselves, become Masters of what ever they undertake, and reduce all Sciences to their principal study. Thus, the Divine, the Physician, and the Lawyer, will make use of History: The first, to enrich a Sermon, or raise a Soul dejected by the consideration of its miseries, whereunto it believes none equal: The Second, to divert his Patient, whose Mind has no less need of redress then his body: The Third, to show that the same judgement has been given in a parallel case. They will call in the demonstrations of the Mathematics to back their own, and the experiments of other Arts to serve for examples and similitudes. To these, Nature, how vast soever it be, seems still too little, and they would complain upon occasion, like Alexander, that there were not worlds enough. Such were of old Hypocrates and Aristotle; and in the time of our Fathers the Count of Mirandula, Scaliger, and some others, who though they writ and spoke of all things, did nevertheless excel in all. Besides, nothing can be known perfectly, without knowing a little of every thing, and this by reason of the Encyclopaedie, or Circle of Arts; as we cannot understand a particular map without having some knowledge of the general, and also of the neighbouring Countries.    

CONFERENCE XLV.  
I. Whether the Heavens be solid or liquid. II. Whether it be harder to get then to preserve.  

I. Whether the Heavens be solid or liquid.  
WHen the proportion requisite to the necessary distance between the sense and its object fails either in excess or defect, there is no more credit to be given to Sense. That which we look upon too near, and which is applied upon the Eye, appears greater than ordinary, as that which is too remote seems very small, and diminishes commensurately to its distance. By which also the figure or shape of the object becomes changed to our apprehension; and we are apt to mistake a square Tower to be round, one colour for another, nothing for a body, a tree for a living creature, a beast for a man, one face for another. Some things likewise deceive us near hand, as the certain of Timanthus. But if we are abused in objects, which are terminated by an opake surface, capable of bounding our view, and reflecting our visual rays; the same happens, with more reason, in diaphanous and transparent bodies, as Light, Fire, Air, Water, Glass, and every thing of that nature. The two last especially, have such conformity that they have divers effects alike, as to serve instead of burning-glasses to recollect the Sunbeams, and represent the species which are opposite to them. For, fill a viol with water, and set it in the Sun, his beams will produce the same effect with it as with a burning-glass. Now by reason of the possibility that our Sight may be mistaken, we are many times forced to have recourse to some other Sense, as to that of Touching; to the end the one may be backed with the testimony of the other. But this cannot be practised in the present Subject; and therefore I conceive that the Heavens, taken for the Celestial Orbs, and not for the Air, nor the third or Empyrreal Heaven, are neither solid nor liquid; because solidity is an effect of dryness, and liquidity of moisture, which are Elementary Qualities; but the Heavens not being composed of the Elements cannot partake of their qualities. But as they constitute a Fifth Essence, of no affinity with that of the Four Elements, so the accidents which belong to them are wholly different from ours, and can no more be conceived then those of glorified bodies; which if you imagine solid, you can never think how they should bow the knee, or exercise any the like function. If they be imagined rare and liquid, and consequently penetrable, they will seem to us divisible; qualities contrary to their immortality. Wherefore I conclude, that the things of Heaven are not to be measured by the standard of those on Earth.  
The Second said, That when things are remote from our external Senses, we must join the internal in their disquisition; now reason requires that there be some utmost solid surface, serving as a boundary and limit to the Elements; otherwise the same thing would happen to the Air or the Elementary Fire, (if there be any such above the Air) that doth to the Water and the Earth, which exhale and evaporate their more rare and subtle parts into the Air; for so would the Air exhale its vapours into the Heavens; and the Fire (whose Nature is always to mount directly upwards, till the occurse of some solid body checks its course and make it circulate) would mingle itself with the substance of the Heavens; which by this means would be no longer pure, and free from corruption, nor consequently eternal; yea, it might happen that such Meteors as should be formed in the Heavens would disorder the motions of the Planets which we behold so regular. And besides, 'tis not possible that the Stars of the Firmament should not have come nearer one another in these 6000. years; and the Planets have been so exact in their wander, unless the Heavens were solid.  
The Third said, That because the weakness of our reasoning cannot conceive how the creatures obey the Creator, otherwise then by such ways as Artificers use, who fasten nails in wheels to make their motion regular; therefore Men fancy the like in Heaven. As if it had not been as easy to God to have appointed a Law to the Stars to move regulary in a liquid space, (as fishes do in the water) yea, in a Vacuum, (if there were any in Nature) as to have riveted and fixed them to some solid body. For 'tis true, we cannot make a durable Sphere but of solid matter. But if Children make airy spheres, or balls with water and soap, could not God, who is an infinitely more excellent workman, make some of a more subtle matter? Moreover, The supposition of liquid Heavens serves better to interpret these openings of Heaven mentioned in the Scripture, then if they be supposed solid. The melted brass to which Job compares the Heavens, proves the contrary to what is usually inferred from it; for immediately after this comparison made by one of Job's friends, God reproves him, and taxes his discourse of ignorance. Whereas it is said, that Heaven is God's throne, which is stable, and which God hath established in the Heavens; and also that it is called a Firmament, the same construction is to be made of these expressions as of that in the beginning of Genesis, where the Sun and the Moon are styled the two great Lights of Heaven, not because they are so in reality, but because they appear so. But that which to me seems most conclusive for the liquidity of the Heavens, is, That Comets have been oftentimes observed above some Planets, which could not be, were the Heaven's solid. Besides that all the Elements are terminated by themselves, and need no vessel to be contained in.  
The Fourth said, If the matter of the Heavens were as firm as glass or crystal, or only as water, our sight could no more perceive the Stars, than it doth things in the bottom of a deep water, how clear soever it be; for the visual rays or species of things cannot penetrate so thick a medium. But although the Stars are exceedingly remote from us, yet our eyes discern their different magnitudes, colours, and motions, and distinguish such as twinkle from others. Besides, those who should behold the same Star from different places would perceive it of different magnitudes, as it happens to those who look upon the same body through water or glass, in regard of the diversity of the medium, which is thicker in one place then in another. Nor is it harder to conceive how the Stars hang in the Air, then to imagine the same of the Terr-aqueous Globe.  
The Fifth said, Liquid is defined that which is hardly contained within its own bounds, and easily in those of another, (which is the true definition of Liquid, and not of Humid; since Quicksilver, Led, and all metals melted, are difficultly contained in their own bounds, and easily in those of another; yet are not humid) the Heaven must be solid and not liquid; for it is contained within its own bounds; yea, according to the Scripture, it upholds the Supercelestial Waters.  
The Sixth said, The great diversity found in the motions of the Celestial Bodies, and especially in the Planets, makes very much for the Fluidity of the Heavens. For Astronomers observing that the Planets not only go from East to West by their diurnal motion, common to all the celestial bodies, but have a particular one of their own, after a sort contrary to the former, which makes them stray from their situation, whereunto they return only at a certain time; therefore they will have them to be turned about by a Heaven, termed by them, Primum Mobile, but add that each of the Planets hath a sphere of its own, which is the cause of its second motion: Moreover, observing the Planets to be sometimes nearer, and sometimes further off from the Earth; therefore they assigned them another sphere, called an Eccentric. But what needs this multiplication of spheres, when as it may reasonably be affirmed, that God hath appointed to every Star the course which it is to observe, (as he hath assigned to every thing its action) what ever variety be found in Planetary bodies, there being more in other Bodies. If it be said, That the wonder lies in their Regularity, I answer, There is nothing here below but has and keeps a rule. Whence Monsters are so much wondered at. Nor is there less wonder in the natural instincts of things, and all their various operations which they always inviolably observe, then in Uniformity, which hath much more ease in it; as it is a more facile thing for a stone to move always downwards, then for an Animal to move according to all the diversities of place and exercise, so many several actions.  
The Seventh said, The matter of the Heavens (if they have any) is, according to Empedocles, a most pure and subtle Air; and that of the Stars, is Light. Wherefore they cannot be either solid or liquid. Moreover, the Centre of the World is most compact, and it grows more and more subtle still towards the Circumference, which therefore must be immaterial, as Light is; Now the Stars are only the thicker parts of their Orbs, like the knots in a Tree; which density renders them visible to us, multiplying and fortifying the degrees of Light by this union; as, on the contrary, the rarity of the intermediate space between the Stars doth not terminate or bond our sight, either because the species which it sends forth are not strong enough to act upon the Eye, and cause perception (which is the reason why we see not the Elementary Fire, though we see the same Fire when it comes to be united and condensed into an igneous meteor, or into our culinary flames. The Heavens therefore may be more or less dense, but not solid in that sense as we attribute solidity to Crystal, Diamonds, or other hard bodies which resist the touch. But indeed we may call them so, if we take the word solid, for that which is filled with itself, and not with any other intermixed thing) all whose parts are of the same nature; according to which signification, not only the Water, but the Air, yea, the Light itself, if it be material, may be said to be solid.   

II. Whether is it easier to get or to keep.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That the difficulty of acquiring and preserving is equal. The reason is, because all the world is eager to get, and therefore 'tis a trouble to a Man to keep what he hath. For the profit of one not arising without the damage of another, (as there is no generation without corruption) nothing accrues to one but what the other loses. Wherefore the striving of every one to get, shows the pains there is in gaining something from another; and again, being every one gapes after fewer goods, it is difficult to preserve the same; as a beast after which all the world is in chase, can hardly save itself. Hence Diogenes said, that Gold might well be pale, since every one lays plots to entrap it.  
The Second said, That as for the guarding of a Place it is requisite that the same be fortified on all sides, whereas there needs but one breach, or one gate opened, for the surprising of it; so it seems there is more pains required to keep then to get. Besides, the ways of losing and spending are almost infinite, and far easier than those of gaining or acquiring, which are very few. To get, 'tis sufficient to have strength (common to Men and Beasts) but to preserve, there needs Prudence, (not only peculiar to Man, but with which very few are well provided.) This is proved also by Nature, which acquires new forms by one single action, but cannot preserve the same without many. For Conservation is the duration of the existence of a thing, and this duration a continual production of it, and consequently more difficult than Acquisition, which is dispatched by one simple generation.  
The Third said, States and Families are increased by acquiring, and upheld by preserving what they acquired. Both the one and the other are very difficult, as Experience teaches us; for we see but few Families and States advanced; and, on the contrary, many others fall to decay. Nevertheless it seems more painful to get then to keep. For if he who possesses much is troubled to preserve it, he that hath nothing is much more troubled to get something; it being far easier for him who hath a stock already, not only to preserve but increase it, then for him who hath nothing at all to become Master of any thing; as there is more of miracle in Creation then in Conservation of the Universe; and as 'tis harder to make leven out of nothing, then to make new paste with the leven which one hath already. Therefore the Latin verse tells Aemilian, that if he is poor, he will always be so, because no body gives any thing but to the rich, as too many example's evidence.  
The Fourth said, As 'tis the same virtue in the Loadstone which retains, and which attracts the Iron, and that which preserves is the same with that which produces; so to keep and to get, are but one and the same thing; since he who by his good management preserves his goods, continually makes them his own. But as the harder a weight is to be lifted up, 'tis the harder to be held up; so the more labour there is in acquiring, the more there is also in preserving the thing acquired. Hence those who have undergone hard toil to get an estate are more busied in keeping it, than they who receive one from another without pains. And upon this account 'tis that Aristotle saith Benefactors love those they do good to, better than they are beloved by them, because 'tis more pain to oblige then to be obliged; and women love and preserve their children so tenderly and dearly, because of the pain which they undergo in bringing them forth. Yet because this Sex is designed to look after the goods of the family, and men to procure them, it may seem thereby that 'tis harder to get then to keep; otherwise the strongest should not have the more difficult task, as equity and justice require.  
The Fifth said, The Question is resolved chiefly by considering the diversity of times, inclinations, capacities, and things. In Seditions or Wars 'tis hard for a man to keep his own, the stronger dispossessing the weaker, and the Laws being little heard amidst the clashing of Arms. In Peace, when justice secures every man's possession, 'tis easier to preserve. In Youth acquisition is more facile, yet keeping is not so easily practised then as in old age. The Prodigal does violence to himself, when he finds a necessity of saving, and thinks nothing more difficult. The Slothful man knows not how to get any thing. The Covetous finds difficulty in both, but the greatest in keeping; and therefore apprehending no security amongst men, after having experienced the trouble of securing his wealth by the honesty of others, from the frauds of Debtors, the subtlety of Lawyers, the violence of Thiefs, he is oftentimes reduced to hide his Treasure under ground. Persons of courage and great vivacity of spirit, but defective in discretion, are more in pain to keep then to get. As it was said of Alexander, Hannibal, and many other great Captains, that they knew better how to overcome then to make use of their Victory. And indeed these two qualities seem inconsistent; for Conquerors have almost always been so magnificent as that they have given away with one hand what they acquired with the other, reserving nothing to themselves but hope and glory; whereas preserving seems proper to the Magistrate and civil Judge. Lastly, some things are acquired with great facility, but difficulty kept, as Friendship, which oftentime is gotten in an instant, but more difficult, yea almost impossible to continue. The favours of Lovers are ordinarily of this rank, being more easily gotten then kept. On the contrary, Knowledge is kept with more ease than it is gained, because ignorance must first be removed out of the Understanding, and this is a matter of difficulty; whereas to preserve knowledge, the species need only be stirred up again, and the more they are excited they become the more strong and vigorous; contrary to other things which perish in the use. For the same actions which produced the habit preserve it, but with much less difficulty than it was acquired. The same may be said of Virtues; for 'tis harder for a bad man to become good then for one of this latter sort to continue in the exercises of virtue. As for the goods of the Body, Beauty, Strength and Health; as they are frail, so they are easy to lose; the Jaundice, the small Pox, the least disorder in our humours are sufficient to alter or destroy them utterly. The goods of Fortune (so called because they depend upon so incertain and mutable a cause, that he that hath them can searce call himself master of them) as riches and honours, are hard to get and easy to lose, inasmuch as a man must perform an infinite number of virtuous actions to obtain promotion, but a single bad action is enough to ruin him. It having pleased God, in order to keep every one within their duty, that in this world as well as in the other our felicity should be wrought out with fear and trembling.    

CONFERENCE XLVI.  
I. Of Vacuity. II. Of the extravagance of Women.  

I. Of Vacuum.  
THe Vulgar call that empty which is not filled with some visible body. But the Philosophers give this name to a place destitute of all corporeity whatsoever, yet capable of being filled; at least, if any such can be in nature. For it cannot be understood of those imaginary spaces beyond the heavens (which, Pythagoras said, served for their respiration) whereof he conceived they stood in need, as animals do. Democritus and Leucippus admitted a twofold Vacuum; one in the Air, serving for local motion; the other in all mixed Bodies, requisite to the internal growth, and also to the lightness of things; alleging that according as their atoms are closely or loosely connected, and of various figures, so bodies are light or heavy. But these Opinions being antiquated, I adhere to the common one, which admits no vacuum at all.  
The Second said, Since Nature abhors vacuum, there must be such a thing; for of two contraries the one supposes the other. And indeed 'tis impossible for any local motion, condensation, or rarefaction, and inward augmentation, to be made without admitting vacuity. For, as for local motion, when a body removes out of a place, that into which it enters is either full or empty: not full, for than it could not receive a new body without penetration of dimensions (which nature cannot suffer) therefore it must be empty. For this reason Melissus affirmed that all things are immovable. For being unable to comprehend how motion could be made without, and unwilling to admit vacuity, therefore he denied both. To say that bodies give way one to another, is to increase the difficulty instead of resolving it; for the body which gives place to another must displace a third, and this a fourth, and so to infinity. So that, to avoid admitting little pores or interstices in the air, into which it may be compacted, we must affirm that the air of our Antipodes is agitated at every the least motion of a finger here. Moreover, Vacuum is proved by condensation and rarefaction. For the former being made, when a body is reduced into a lesser extent, and its parts approach nearer one another without loss of any; either these parts penetrate one another, or else there was some void space, which is possessed by themselves when they are thrust together: seeing, if they had been so contiguous as that there were not any empty pores between them, they could not have come closer together. Likewise, rarefaction being caused when the parts recede one from another, if no other body interpose, there must needs be a vacuum between the parts; or else they must have been one within another. If it be said, that proportionably as one thing is condensed in one place, another is as much rarefied somewhere else, to fill up the vacuum, and so on the contrary; this is harder to be conceived then a vacuum. Lastly, accretion or growth, which is caused by the reception of aliment in the body, could not be made, if three were not some void passages to receive this aliment. And, to conclude, experience shows us, that a pail of water will receive its own measure of ashes or lime which it could not do, if there were no vacuity.  
The Third said, That every thing affects unity, not only because God who is the universal cause of all is one, and most simple; and every thing ought to be like its cause; but for that all things find their good and conservation in unity, as they do their ruin in dis-union. Wherefore every thing in the world is so united that there is not any empty space between two; and contiguity is as necessary in the parts of the world as continuity in those of a living creature. For if there were a Vacuum in the world, the Heavens could not transmit their influences into the Elements and their compounds, for the preservation of which the same are absolutely necessary; considering that whatever acts upon a distant thing must do it by some medium uniting the agent and the patient.  
The Fourth said, Since Nature offers violence to herself, to prevent inanity, and all things quit their particular interest for that of the public, undoubtedly, there is no such thing as vacuum in Nature. For we see that she makes heavy things to ascend, light things to descend, and breaks the solidest and strongest things without any external violence, only to avoid the inconvenience of vacuity. If bellows be compressed and the holes stopped, no humane force can expand them without breaking; a bottle (of what material soever) filled with boiling water and stopped, and put into cold, immediately flies in pieces. You cannot draw Wine out of a vessel, unless you give entrance to the air at the bunghole. A vessel being full of heated air, and its orifice applied to the water, sucks the same upwards. A Cupping-glass, when the heated and subtle air in it becomes condensed and takes up less room, attracts the flesh into itself. Syphons and Pumps, by which the water is made to ascend higher than its source, are founded wholly upon this eschewing of vacuity. Our own bodies also afford us an instance, for the aliment could not be assimilated in each part without the suction and attraction which is made of it to supply the place of what is consumed by exercise or heat, otherwise the blood and nourishment would tend only downwards by their own weight. And what makes the effects of blood-letting and purgation so sensible, but this very flight of Vacuum?  
The Fifth said, A notable vacuity and of great extent cannot be without miracle, but some small interspersed inanities may be between the particles of the Elements and Compounds, like the pores of our bodies: for Nature abhors the former, and can do nothing without the latter; it being impossible for Qualities to be transmitted to any subject through a great vacuum, which would hinder the perception of our senses, and the fire itself from heating at the least distance. There could be no breathing in it, Birds could not fly in it; in brief, no action could be exercised in it but those whereof the principle is in the thing itself, and which need no medium, as local motion, which would be more easily made, because there would be no resistance.  
The Sixth said, Nature doth what she can to hinder a vacuum, yet suffers one when she is forced to it. For if you suck out all the air out of a bottle, then stop it exactly, and having put it under water with the mouth downwards, open it again, the water will immediately ascend to fill the vacuity left by the exsuction of the air. And if with a Syringe you force air into a vessel strong enough to endure such violence, when the pores of the air which were empty before come to be filled, it will of its own accord drive out the water very impetuously which was put first into it. Likewise, though the air naturally keep up above the water: yet by enclosing it in some sort of vessel you may violently make it continue under the water.   

II. Of the capricious or extravagant humours of women.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, It is not here pronounced that all women are capricious; but only the reason enquired of those that are such, and why they are more so than men. To allege the difference of souls, and suppose that as there is an order in the Celestial Hierarchies, whereby the Archangels are placed above Angels, so the spirits of men are more perfect than those of women; were to fetch a reason too far off, and prove one obscure thing by another more so. Nor is the cause to be found in their bodies, taken in particular, for then the handsome would be free from this vice; the actions which borrow grace from their subject appearing to us of the same nature; and consequently their virtues would seem more perfect, and their defects more excusable; whereas, for the most part the fairest are the most culpable. We must therefore recur to the correspondence and proportion of the body and the soul. For sometimes a soul lights upon a body so well framed, and organs so commodious for the exercise of its faculties, that there seems more of a God then of a man in its actions (whence some persons of either Sex attract the admiration of all world:) On the contrary, other souls are so ill lodged that their actions have less of man then of brute. And because there's more women than men found, whose spirits are ill quartered, and faculties depraved; hence comes their capricious and peevish humour. For as melancholy persons, whose blood is more heavy, are with good reason accounted the more wise; so those whose blood and (consequently) spirits are more agile and movable, must have a less degree of wisdom, and their minds sooner off the hooks. The irregular motions of the organ which distinguishes their Sex, and which is called an animal within an animal, many times have an influence in the business, and increase the mobility of the humours. Whence the health of their minds as well as that of their bodies many times suffers alteration. A woman fallen into a fit of the Mother becomes oftentimes enraged, weeps, laughs, and has such irregular motions as not only torment her body and mind, but also that of the Physician, to assign the true cause of them. Moreover, the manner of living whereunto the Laws and Customs subject women, contributes much to their defects. For leading a sedentary life, wherein they have always the same objects before their eyes, and their minds being not diverted by civil actions, as those of men are, they make a thousand reflections upon their present condition, comparing it with those whereof they account themselves worthy: this puts their modesty to the rack, and oftentimes carries them beyond the respect and bounds which they proposed to themselves. Especially, if a woman of good wit sees herself married to a weak husband, and is ambitious of showing herself. Another judging herself to merit more than her rival, not knowing to whom to complain of her unhappiness, does every thing in despite. And indeed they are the less culpable, inasmuch as they always have the principles of this vice within themselves, and frequently find occasions abroad.  
The Second said, that the word Caprichio is used to signify the extravagant humour of most women, because there is no animal to which they more resemble then a Goat, whose motions are so irregular that prendre la cheure signifies to take snuff without cause, and to change a resolution unexpectedly. For such as have searched into the nature of this animal, find that its blood is so sharp, and spirits so ardent, that it is always in a Fever; and hence it is that being agitated with this heat which is natural to it it leaps as soon as it comes into the world. Now the cause of this temper is the conformation of the Brain, which they say is like that of a woman, the Ventricles of which being very little are easily filled with sharp and biting vapours, which cannot evaporate (as Aristotle affirms) because their Sutures are closer than those of men: those vapours prick the Nerves and Membranes, and so cause those extraordinary and capricious motions. Hence it is, that women are more subject to the Megrim and other diseases of the head, than men. And if those that sell a Goat never warrant it sound as they do other animals, there is no less excuse in reference to women. Which caused the Emperor Aurelius to say, that his Father in law Antoninus who had done so much good to others had done him mischief enough in giving him his daughter, because he found so much bone to pick in a little flesh. Moreover, the Naturalists say that the Goat is an enemy to the Olive-tree especially, which is a symbol of peace, whereunto women are not over-well affected. For, not to mention the first divorce which woman caused between God and man by her lickorishness; her talking, her ambition, her luxury, her obstinacy, and other vices, are the most common causes of all the quarrels which arise in families, and in civil life. If you would have a troop of Goats pass over any difficult place you need force but one to do it, and all the rest will follow. So women are naturally envious, and no sooner see a new fashion but they must follow it. And gardeners compare women and girls to a flock of Goats, who roam and browse incessantly, holding nothing inaccessible to their curiosity. There is but one considerable difference between them; the Goat wears horns, and the woman makes others wear them.  
The Third said, There is more correspondence between a woman and a Mule, then between a woman and a Goat: for (leaving the Etymology of Mulier to Grammarians) the Mule is the most tasty and capricious of all beasts, fearing the shadow of a man or a Tree overturned more than the spur of the rider. So a woman fears every thing but what she ought to fear. The obstinacy of the Mule, which is so great that it has grown into a Proverb, is inseparable from the whole Sex, most of them being gifted with a spirit of contradiction. Mules delight to go in companies; so do women; the bells and muzzles of the one have some correspondence with the earings and masks of the other; and both love priority. The more quiet you allow a Mule, it becomes the more resty; so women become more vicious in idleness; neither of them willingly admits the bridle between their teeth. The Mule is so untoward that it kicks in the night time while 'tis asleep; so women are oftener laid then quiet. Lastly, the Mule that hath seemed most tractable all its time, one day or other pays his master with a kick; and the woman that has seemed most discreet, at one time or other commits some notorious folly.  
The Fourth said, That those who invented the little Medals representing the upper part of a woman, and the lower of a Mule, commend this Sex whilst they think to blame it. For there is nothing more healthy, strong, patient of hunger, and the injuries of seasons, or that carries more, and is more serviceable, than a Mule. Nature shows that she is not satisfied with her other productions whilst she makes other animals propagate by generation; but when she has made a Mule, she stops there, as having found what she sought. Now if certain actions of women seem full of perverseness and capricio to some, possibly others will account them to proceed from vivacity of spirit, and greatness of courage. And as the Poet, in great commendation of his black Mistress, chanted her cheeks of Jet, and bosom of Ebeny; so whatever some people's mistake may say to the contrary, the most capricious woman is the most becoming. Nor is this humour unprofitable to them; for as people are not forward to provoke a Mule for fear of kicks, so we are more shy of women then otherwise we should be, for fear of capricioes, well understanding the difference which the Proverb puts between the van of the one, and the rear of the other. Yet some hold that this capriciousness of women follows the Moon no less than their menstruosities do. Others, that the flower of beans contributes very much to it.  
The Fifth said, That if credit is to be given to experience, Solomon who had experience of a thousand women, compares an ill capricious woman to a Tygress and a Lioness. Such were Medea, Xantippe, and many others. Moreover, the Poets say that the Gods intending to punish Prometheus for having stolen the celestial fire, gave him a wife. And when Satan afflicted Job he deprived him of his flocks, of his houses, and of his children, but had a care not to take his wife from him, knowing that this was the only way to make him desperate, as it would have done without God's special grace. The Rabbins say, three sorts of persons were exempted from public charges, and could not be called into judgement, to wit, the Poor, the Nephritick, and he that had a bad wife, because they had business enough at home without needing any abroad. The Laws likewise exempted new married men from going to the wars the first year of their marriage, allowing them this time, which is the roughest and most important, to repress their quarrelsomeness, and reduce their fierce Spouses to duty. Which if the Husbands could not effect, a little bill of Divorce (appointed by God, and the Laws for putting an end to the poor Man's miseries) did the business. Though the Chaldeans used not so much formality, but only▪ extinguished the domestic fire which the Priest kindled at the marriage. Yet the privilege was not reciprocal, neither Divine nor Humane Laws having ever allowed women to relinquish their Husbands; for then, being as capricious and inconstant as they are, they would have changed every day. For the same reason the Laws have always prohibited to women the administration of public affairs. And the Religion of the Mahometan Arabians assigns them a Paradise apart; because (say they) if the women should come into that of the men they would disturb all the Feast.    

CONFERENCE XLVII.  
I. Of the Virtue of Numbers. II. Of the Visible Species.  

I. Of the Virtue of Numbers.  
THe Mind of Man resembles those who make the point of their tools so small that they spoil them with too much sharpening; and in the contemplation of natural causes there is more then enough to satisfy his desire of knowledge, were it not that he will attempt every thing. Hence it is that the causes of different effects here below are sought in things the most remote, and no otherwise appertaining to them then that as accidents and circumstances. Of these accidents some have action, as Quality; others have none, as Quantity; under which are comprehended Number, Figure, Lines, Surface, and its other species; which are considered either in some matter, or else abstracted from it; in the former of these ways, they have some virtue in regard of their matter, but not in the latter. An Army of fifty thousand Men is potent, but the number of fifty thousand can do nothing, yea, is nothing, if taken abstractedly. Wherefore as reasonable as it is to seek the virtues of simple and compound bodies in their qualities, and to say, e. g. that Pepper bites and altars the Tongue, because it is hot and dry; so absurd it seems to think that five or seven leaves of Sage applied to the Wrist have more virtue than six or eight.  
The Second said, Nothing includes more wonders in itself then Number; and if our Reason cannot penetrate their cause, they ought to be the more esteemed for being unknown. This is the universal opinion of all Antiquity, both Jewish and Pagan, which otherwise would not have made so much ado with them. Yea, there's [divine] authority for it, contained in the eleventh Chapter of Wisdom, God made all things in number, weight, and measure. Experience justifies their Energy, teaching us that certain numbers are to be observed in cases where we would have the like effects, which possibly is the cause why the operations of one and the same remedy are found so frequently different. We see Nature so religious in this observation, in all her works, that she never produces an Animal, but the proportion of seeds is adjusted most exactly; that in Plants, their grains and all other parts have the same taste, colour, and virtue, (whence it is that simple medicaments are always more certain than compound) because Nature either produces them not at all, or makes them with the same number, weight, and measure of matter and qualities. 'Tis through the virtue of number that such a Plant, as Coloquintida, is mortal when it grows alone; and medicinal, when many of them grow together.  
The Third said, The Pythagoreans and Platonists ascribed so great power to numbers, that they thought all things were composed of them, and more or less active according to their several proportion. Of which they made four sorts. First the Poetical, or Musical, the virtue whereof is such, that it gave occasion to the Fable of Orpheus, who is said to have drawn even beasts, trees, and rocks, by the harmonious sound of his Harp. 'Twas by the cadence of the like numbers that David chased away Saul's evil spirit; and Poetry, which differs from Prose only by its numbers, hence derives the power it hath over men's souls. The Second sort is the Natural, and is found in the composition of all mixed bodies. The Third is Rational, peculiar to Man, whose soul they termed a moving number, the connexion whereof with the body they said, continued so long as the numbers which linked them remained united together. The Fourth Divine, upon which and the Natural the Cabalists and Magicians have founded their profoundest secrets, and Agrippa his Occult Philosophy. But above all others, they particularly esteemed the odd number, styling it perfect and Masculine; as, on the contrary, the even, imperfect and Feminine. Indeed we observe that the Birth of Man happens, for the most part, in an odd month, to wit, the seventh or ninth; in the rest, the Infant seldom comes forth alive. Also most of the alterations of our bodies happen according to the septenary number; whence the number 83. called for this reason the grand Climacterical, is so greatly feared, because 'tis produced by seven multiplied into nine. Physicians never appoint Pills in an even number. Good Crises always happen on an odd day; and he that loses his Ague at an even fit necessarily falls into a relapse. Which cannot be attributed to any thing but number. For such effects as are produced by the quality or quantity of the matter appear with it; and therefore if these caused the Crisis, it would not be wholly at once, but begin and proceed by degrees according to the augmentation of the matter; as fire is increased by new wood cast upon it. But the motion of Crises is always sudden, and many times against all appearance.  
The Fourth said, As the beginning of all things is a most simple essence; so all Numbers spring from Unity, which is no Number of itself, but the beginning of Number. Osellus calls it the Symbol of Peace and Concord, because it is indivisible; and with the Philosophers, Unity, Verity, Goodness, and Essence, are one and the same thing. Whence it follows that the Binary is the first of all numbers, wherewith Nature is so highly delighted that she has exactly observed it in the structure of Man, the Organs of whose senses, and almost all his members, are double; and therefore 'tis also so carefully observed by Architects. But the Ternary, concerning which Ausonius writ an entire volume, being the first odd number, is of more efficacy, it is competent to the Deity and his works; the world is distinguished into three Ages; there are three sorts of Souls in Nature, three Faculties in Man, and three principal parts in his Body: Which caused Aristotle to say, in his first Book De Coelo, Chapter 1. That all things are comprehended under this Number [Tria sunt Omnia.] The Qaternary, dedicated to Mercury, is the first even and square number, highly esteemed by the Pythagoreans, because it contains the grand number of Ten, (for 1, 2, 3, 4, put together, make Ten;) and by the Jews, upon the Art of the Divine Tetragrammaton, or Name of four Letters. Moreover, there are four Elements, four Seasons, four Humours, four Ages, and four Cardinal Virtues. As for the Quinary, we see there are five most Simple Bodies in Nature, five Senses, and five Fingers on a Hand. The Senary, according to Saint Jerome, contains the mystery of the Creatures, because it arises from the double proportion of the quaternary to the binary. Nevertheless the Septenary has been accounted the most mysterious of all; because 'tis compounded of the first odd number, and first even Square, namely, three and four. And 'tis held, that by virtue of this number, the seventh Son born of the same Mother, without any interposition of the other sex, hath a particular gift of doing cures. Orpheus so esteemed the Octonary, that he swore only by it and the Eight Deities, to wit, the four Elements, the Sun, the Moon, Light, and Darkness. This number was always held for the Emblem of Justice, because 'tis the first Cube, and hath a most perfect equality in all its parts. The Novenary being compounded of three Triads, (the first odd and most perfect number) is also of great efficacy; whence the Heavens, the Muses, and the orders of Angels have been comprised in it. Lastly, the Denary, which is the first conjoined number, includes all the preceding. By all which it appears, that there is some efficacy not only in numbers in general, but also in every one in particular.  
The Fifth said, That which is most considerable in number, is, that 'tis the most sensible exemplar of the Deity, of whom you cannot conceive so many perfections, but there will still remain more to be imagined; as you cannot add so many numbers together, but you may yet add more. This is peculiar to it, that there is a least number, to wit, two, but no greatest, because you may always assign a greater. Yet there's no number, how great sooner, but may be expressed. For set down a thousand figures in a row, and as many below them, multiply the one by the other, the sand of the sea does not equal this number. What will it be then, if you multiply the same again, which you may do as often as you please. Here writing will surpass speech; for you cannot count it. It's perfection is also manifest, in that the Philosophers knew not how to express the forms and essences of things better than by comparing them to numbers. For as every number is so perfect and complete a total in itself, that you cannot add or diminish any thing from it, and it remain the same number; so are the essences of things. Moreover,▪ 'tis particular to Man; for he alone, amongst all Creatures, reasons, speaks, and computes. Whence Amphistides was adjudged a fool because he could not count above five. And Pythagoras assigns no other cause of the ratiocination of Man, but this, that he understands how to compute or reckon. For Number is made by order and connexion of many unites, which actions cannot be performed but by the Understanding.  
The Sixth said, Number being nothing in itself, but a simple work of the Understanding, cannot produce any real effect. And supposing it could, yet Parity and Imparity are but accidental, not substantial forms; and therefore incapable of rendering a number more or less active. Which made Galen doubt whether Pythagoras could attribute so much power to it, and yet be wise. For, as for Plato, 'tis very probable he ascribed this virtue to Forms and Essences, which he terms Formal and Rational numbers, rather than to real and true numbers abstracted from Essence. Whereas some have divined prosperous and sinister accidents by the imparity or parity of the syllables in some person's name, or whether should live longest the Husband or the Wife, by the greater or less number of their letters; this is rather to be referred to Chance then to any thing else.  
The Seventh said, Nature makes all her works in Number, since she makes them in Time, which is the number of Motion. Yet 'tis not Number that acts, but Nature alone. For Number is incapable of all action, having no essence of itself, but by accident, and not so much as an essence of reason. For the Understanding conjoining many unites together, which are indivisibles, and consequently negations, frames a number. And if many unites of substance cannot make a real total itself, much less can many unites of Quantities.   

II. Of the Visible Species.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That there is nothing barren in Nature, but every thing incessantly produces its like. Which is no less wonderful than the first Creation, the power of which God seems by this productive virtue to have communicated to Creatures. But that which surpasses all admiration, is, that even the most gross and material things incessantly emit out of themselves infinite, species which are so many portraitures and resemblances, more exquisite and excellent than their Original. And being every thing has its sphere of activity, these species are diffused in the Air, and other diaphanous mediums, to a certain distance, unless they meet with opake and terminated bodies, which hinder them from passing further, and interrupt their continuity with their source, either reflecting them, as it happens when the opposite body is so exactly polished that it equally sends back all the parts of the species without mutilation; or only stopping them, as all other bodies do. Our Sight goes not to seek Objects, but they insinuate themselves into it by their species; whence it is that in a Looking-glass we behold a person that stands behind us. Moreover, all Sensation being a Passion, according to Aristotle, as Hearing is made by the reception of sounds, so must Seeing by the reception of the Visible Species; nor must this sense be in a worse condition than the rest, who are not at the trouble to go to seek their Objects, but only to receive them. An undoubted proof whereof is administered by the great conformity which is between the Seeing, Hearing, and Smelling, especially between the two former.  
The Second said, That the Visible Species are a reflection of light, which is various according to the different colour and figure of the Objects: Whence it is that a Concave glass reflects not only the species but also light and heat, augmented by the union of their scattered rays into a point. Now these Species are carried into the Eye; and as one nail drives another, and the agitated Water or Air thrusts that which is next it, so the tunicles and humours of the Eye being struck by the Species the Spirits are stirred by the same means, and take the form of the Species according as they arrive; as when the Air is enclosed in a rock is struck by the Species of some sound, it puts on the form of the Species of this sound, and issuing forth of its cavity with this borrowed form, makes the voice which we call an Echo. These Species being received by the Spirits, are by them carried to the Common Sense and the Imagination; and then, (after the example of this Faculty) the Intellect forms the like in itself, which are more spiritual and incorporeal than the first, and which at length it commits to the custody of the Memory, to make use of the same in fitting time and place.  
The Third said, That the greatest difficulty arising about these Visible Species, is, how those of each different object of the same place can fill it all, and nevertheless all these Species together not fill it more; yea, not confound and hinder one the other from being as well seen as if there were but one Object. 'Tis otherwise in sounds and smells, which being various give not a distinct perception of any one, but a medley of all. Now the reason hereof seems to be, because the Visible Species alter not the Air, as odours which are corporeal do; (as appears in that they make us healthy and sick) and 'tis not needful for the Eye to paint them anew, as the Ear new frames all sounds, which cannot be done but successively; the deep tone, (for example) being constrained to attend at the portal of the Ear, till the shrill be new formed in it. Whence ariseth the confusion of sounds.  
The Fourth said, As the Visible Species are not mixed together in a Looking-glass, but all appear distinctly, although the dimensions of the glass be very small in respect of the extent and number of the objects, because the Species concur there in a direct line, and are terminated as in a point, which is capable to lodge them, being they are immaterial: So it is with the same Species in reference to the Air, through the least part whereof 'tis a less wonder that many of them pass without penetration, then to observe the actions of our Memory; in one point of which infinite Species, not only visible, but those introduced by all other senses, remain for a long time, yea, during all our lives; notwithstanding their society seem very incompatible. But although Objects send their Images towards the Sight, yet the Eye emits the most subtle and active Spirits to receive them, which it hath for this purpose. Hence it is that to see a thing distinctly, we contract our Eyes, or shut one of them; to the end the visual beams may be more strengthened by being more united. 'Tis through the dissipation of these spirits that the Eye grows weary with seeing; and old men, those who watch, read, or addict themselves to women too much, see not very clear; and on the contrary, young persons, and the choleric, whose spirits are more subtle, have a very sharp Sight. But if Sight were performed without any Emission, the Basilisk should not kill by its aspect; the Wolf perceiving a man first should not make him hoarse; women should not infect Looking-glasses at certain times; those who have sore Eyes should not communicate their infirmity to others by beholding them, or being beheld by them: Lastly, old hags could not bewitch Children by the Sight, and Lambs too, by the report of Virgil, if the visual spirits which they send forth were not corrupted.  
The Fifth said, If the Eye send any thing towards the Object, it must be either a substance or an accident. An incorporal substance it cannot be, for then a man should emit his Soul, or part of it, which is absurd; besides, that of other Animals, whose Souls are confessedly corporeal, some see better than we. Nor can it be a body, for no body is moved in an instant; and yet as soon as we open our Eyes we behold the Stars; yea, we see much sooner than we hear, and behold the Lightning before we hear the Thunder which preceded it. Nor is it any of the Animal Spirits that issues forth; from whence should such a quantity be produced as to reach as far as the Firmament? Neither is it an accident, since 'tis against Nature for an accident to go from one subject to another. Now this difficulty may serve for an excuse to Cardinal Perron, when before Henry III, he was gravelled with this Riddle, I am a man and no man, I have neither body nor soul, I am neither shadow nor picture, and yet I am seen; by which was meant the species of a man beholding himself in a glass. Lastly, either these visual rays return back to their quarters, after they have been abroad to receive the Visible Species; (and then Nature should labour in vain by going to seek that which comes of its own accord) or else they return not, and so the vision should not be made in the Eye, but in the Air.    

CONFERENCE XLVIII.  
I. Whether every thing that nourishes an Animal ought to have life. II. Of Courage.  

I. Whether every thing that nourishes an Animal ought to have Life.  
EVery thing in the world is effected by an order and disposition of causes and means subalternate▪ one to another. God makes himself known to Men by the marvellous effects of Nature. The immaterial and incorruptible Heavens communicate their virtues and influences here below; first, through the Element of Fire, which is most subtle, and then through the Air which is most pure in the upper Region, more gross in the middle, and in the lower infected by the vapours and exhalations of the Water and Earth, and all compounds; in the production whereof Nature observes such order as that she begins always with the more simple, and never passes from one extremity to another without a medium. Thus the Plant springeth out of the ground like an herb, becomes a shrub, and then a tree. The Embryo lives only a vegetable life at first, then arrives to motion, and lastly, is endued with reason. Even in civil life too speedy advancements are taken ill, whereas he who grows great by degrees does not so much offend the Minds of others, and provokes less jealousy. Hence also the deaths, and especially the violent, astonish us more than the births of Men, because they come into the world, and grow up by little and little, but are cut off in a moment. So likewise the burning of Cities, and overthrow of States, cause the more admiration, because sudden vicissitudes seem less conformable to the order of Nature then their progressive erections. That which is observed in the composition and generation of bodies holds also in their nutrition, for both of them proceed from the same Faculty, and are almost the same thing. For to nourish, is to be changed into the substance of that which is nourished. Nature makes no change from one term to another by a violent motion and progress, but by little and little, of a matter capable of being converted into the substance of the living thing; as only that is which hath life, it being as impossible to make a living thing of that which never was such, and consequently whose matter hath no disposition to become such, as 'tis to make a thing be which cannot be.  
The Second said, (setting aside Cardan's opinion who extends life even to Stones) as there are three orders of living things, so there are three that have need of nutrition, Plants, Animals and Men. Plants are nourished with the juice of the earth; Animals, for the most part, with Plants; and Men better with the Flesh of Animals, then with any other thing, by reason of the resemblance of their natures. The first order is not here spoken of, because Plants must needs be nourished with that which hath not had life, unless we will say, that the universal spirit informing the earth gives it virtue to produce and nourish them. The two latter are only in question, and I think it no more inconvenient that what hath not had life may serve for aliment, and be converted into the substance of a living creature, then that the earth and water (simple elements in respect of a Plant) are assimilated by it and made partakers of vegetable life. For as fire makes green wood combustible by exsiccating its humidity; so an Animal may render such matter fit for its nourishment which was not so before. Not only the Oestrich is nourished with Iron which it digests, Pigeons and Pullen with gravel, the stones of which are found in their crops smooth and round; but also men may be nourished with bread made of earth. And the Spaniards are much addicted to the use of an earth called Soccolante which they mingle with water and sugar; its terrene consistence refuting their opinion who hold it to be the juice of a Plant. Yea, some in Sieges have supported their lives with inanimate things, as with bread of Slate▪ as 'tis reported of that of Sancerre. And, moreover, 'tis manifest that some sick people are nourished with water alone for many days together.  
The Third said, Nutrition is made by the help of heat, which altars and divides the aliments, and reduces them to a most simple substance, capable of being converted into every similary part; the property of heat being to separate heterogeneous things, and conjoin those of the same nature. Hence, things least compounded are more easily assimilated. And as among Medicaments, so among aliments, the more simple are the best, and make fewest excrements. The air doth not only refresh the natural heat, but serves for food and aliment to the spirits, our best and noblest parts; with which air alone, as the common opinion holds, the Chameleon is nourished, as the Grasshopper with dew which is nothing but concreted air; and the Jews were fed forty years with Manna, which is a kind of dew (for the Scripture saith it vanished with the heat of the Sun) yea, the Manna which is found at this day in Calabria & other places is capable of nourishing an animal, and yet it never had life, but falls from heaven upon the stones, from which it is collected. The same may be said of honey, which is a kind of dew too falling upon the leaves & flowers of Plants, and serving for food to Bees who only gather it, without other preparation. And a sort of Flies called Pyraustae live with nothing but fire, as many Fishes do of plain water, Moles and Worms of simple earth. Antimony and divers other Minerals, purged from their malignant qualities, serve for aliment; and they who are expert in Chemistry make a kind of bread of them. The Magistery of Pearls and Coral, many precious Stones, and Gold itself, by the consent of all antiquity, wonderfully repair our radical moisture by their fixed spirits; whence they are called Cordials.  
The Fourth said, If man were homogeneous and all of a piece, he would be not only immortal, according to Hypocrates, but need no food, which is necessary only for reparation of what substance is consumed; now nothing would be destroyed in man, were it not for the heterogeneous pieces of which he is made up. Wherefore since we are nourished with the same things whereof we are composed, and we are not composed of one pure and simple element, but of four, it follows, that whatever nourishes us must be mixed of those four Elements; and therefore the more compounded it is, as animate things are, the more proper it is to nourish. Otherwise were the aliment pure, it could not be assimilated. And although it could be assimilated, yet it could not nourish the whole body, but only either the terrestrial parts, if it were earth; or the humours, if it were water; or the spirits, if it were fire or air.  
The Fifth said, The life of man cost Nature dear, if it must be maintained at the expense of so many other animals lives. If you say, that being made for man, the greatest happiness that can befall them is to serve him in something though by the loss of their lives. But this is rather a fair excuse to cover our cruelty and luxury; seeing Animals are no more proper than Plants to nourish man. Witness our first Fathers, before the flood, who were so long-lived although they lived not of flesh. Whence 'tis inferred too that inanimate things may nourish us better than Plants. For the taste is an ill judge in this cause; the Eel, amongst animals, and the Peach, amongst fruits, affording the worst nourishment, though they relish most deliciously. The Similitude of substance is of little consideration; for Animals live not of their like, and the Cannibals are ordinarily all Leprous. That a thing may be food, 'tis sufficient that it have an humidity or substance proportionate to ours, in what order of things soever it be found. And nature has had no less care of nourishing an animal then of healing it, but she has endued all sublunary bodies with properties medicinal to man. Lastly, we cannot reckon among Plants those excrescenses which we call triffs, and are held to be produced by thunder in some kinds of earth, whence they are gathered; and yet they nourish extremely.  
The Sixth said, When that which enters into the Stomach is altered by it, 'tis called aliment; for heat is the chief Agent by which it is united and assimulated; whence it comes to pass that according to the diversity of this heat, Hemlock serves for nourishment to the Starlings, but kills man. Now to judge whether that which hath had life be more proper for nutrition then that which hath not; we need only consider upon which of the two the natural faculty which disperses this heat acts most powerfully; which, no doubt, it doth upon that which hath had life, since it hath the conditions requisite to food, being in some sort like, as having been alive; and also qualified to become so again, because when a form forsakes its subject it leaves dispositions in it for a like form to ensue; 'tis also in some sort unlike, being actually destitute of life. Wherefore as that which hath life really cannot nourish a living thing because of its total resemblance, and there is no action between things alike, otherwise a thing might act against itself, since nothing is more like to any thing than itself. So that which never had life cannot nourish an animal, by reason of its entire dissimilitude, and because between things wholly unlike there is no action.   

II. Of Courage.  
Upon the second Point; If 'tis worthy admiration that amongst Animals a little dog gives chase to a multitude of Oxen (whence the Hebrews call a Dog Cheleb, that is to say, All heart, in regard of his courage) 'tis more to be wondered that amongst men who are of the same species, and framed after the same manner, one puts to flight three others, greater, stronger and oftentimes more dextrous than himself. The cause hereof is attributed to heat; but (besides that we see many sufficiently heated in every other action, but cold when it comes to fight;) as they say there are good Greyhounds of all sizes, so there are great courages of all tempers; and although the hair, complexion, stature, and habit of body, are the most sure witnesses, yet every body knows that there are valiant men found of all hairs and statures, yea of all Ages, the seeds of courage being manifest in children, and the remainders in old men. It seems therefore that courage proceeds from the fitting and well proportioned temper and structure of the heart and arteries; for when these are too large, the spirits are more languid, and the actions less vigorous, either to repel present dangers, or meet those which are future. Yet the Choleric are naturally more disposed to magnanimity, the Phlegmatic and Melancholy less, and the Sanguine are between both. Education also and custom are of great moment, as we see Rope-dancers and Climbers perform strange feats with inimitable boldness, because they have been used to walk upon Ropes, and climb the Spires of Churches, from their youth. So a child that has been accustomed to dangers from his infancy will not fear any. Moreover, Honour and Anger are great spurs to valour, especially, when the latter is sharpened by the desire of revenge, which is excited by injury, derision, or ingratitude. Exhortations too are very effectual. And therefore when ever Caesar's Soldiers did not behave themselves well, he observes that he had not had time to make a speech to them. Nor is Necessity and the consideration of present danger to be omitted, for the greatest cowards oftentimes give proofs of courage upon urgent occasions, when there's no hope of flight; and one of the best wiles of a General is to take from his Soldiers all hope of retreat and safety otherwise then in victory. Example also prevails much, both as to flying and to fight. Wherefore those that run first aught to be punished without mercy, as they who first enter a breach, or are farthest engaged amongst the enemies, deserve great acknowledgement of their virtue. But particularly amongst persons acquainted and mutually affectionate, courage is redoubled by the presence of the thing beloved; witness the sacred Legion of the Thebans. But the desire of honour and hope of reward are the most powerful incitements to valour. Upon which account the King's presence is always counted equivalent as all his Troops together.  
The Second said, Courage is a virtue placed between boldness and fear. Yet it is chiefly conversant in moderating fear, which is an expectation of evil. Amongst the evils and adversities which cause terror to men, some are to be feared by all, and cannot be slighted by a virtuous man, as ignominy, punishment for a crime, or other infamy. Others may be feared or despised without blame, if ourselves be not the causes of them, as Poverty, Exile and Sickness. And yet a man is never the more courageous for not fearing them. For a Prodigal is not courageous for not fearing Poverty; an impudent fellow that hath lost all shame may easily despise banishment, as Diogenes did; and a Sot will be insensible of an incurable disease, which a wise man supports patiently. Lastly, some evils are to be contemned, as all dangers and misfortunes which necessarily come to pass in life, and death itself; in the despising of which the greatness of courage principally appears, especially in that which happens in the wars, fight for one's Prince and Country, as being the most honourable and glorious of all.  
The Third said, No virtue can keep us from fearing death, which gave so great apprehension to the most wise, and to our Lord himself, and which Aristotle deservedly calls the most terrible of terribles; the same Philosopher also teaching us that a virtuous man infinitely desires to live, and aught to fear death; because he accounts himself worthy of long life, during which he may do service to others, and he knows well that death will deprive him of all the goods of this world; since well-being presupposes being. Therefore courage does not wholly take away the fear of death, no more than the sense of pain, which is natural; otherwise a courageous man ought to be insensible and stupid. But he governs this fear in such sort that it does not hinder him from overcoming his enemy, although it render him more prudent and circumspect in seeking fit means to attain thereunto. Herein he differs from the rash person, who casting himself into dangers without having foreseen and maturely considered them, becomes faint-hearted in the chiefest of the brunt.  
The Fourth said, A courageous man is known by what he attempts without rashness, and accomplishes without fear; for he always represents to himself the danger greater than it is, to the end, to arm himself with strong resolutions, which once taken 'tis impossible to make him retract. His courage proceeds neither from experience nor necessity, nor desire of gain, ignorance or stupidity; but having well considered the danger, and judged it honourable to resist it, he doth so upon the sole account of virtue, and shows himself indefatigable in undergoing toils, and invincible even in death. 'Tis not enough that his cause be good, he will end it by lawful means, and had rather lose his right then attempt such as are unjustifiable and displeasing to his Prince. Therefore our Duelists must conclude that they abandon solid honour, to follow its shadow; since honourable and just are inseparable. The sword is his last remedy, and he uses it more to defend then to assault, but always with some kind of constraint, and yet none wields it with more sureness and grace, fear not causing him to make unseemly gestures. He hates nothing so much as vice. He speaks little but acts much, liking rather to be seen then heard. He chooses not the kind of death, but receives that which is offered, in which nothing troubles him saving that it deprives him of the means to do his King and Country more service. If his ill fate make him a slave, he will not employ death to deliver himself from servitude, as Cato of Utica did, showing thereby a figure of cowardice rather than of courage; but he will so deport himself as to seem free in his bondage, yea to have dominion over those who command him. In fine, whether he be conqueror or conquered, he loses nothing of his magnanimity, but remains always like himself, firm in his resolutions. To attain to which greatness of spirit 'tis not enough that the structure of the body be large, or the heat of temper as great as that of Leonidas the Spartan, Mathias the Emperor, or the Pirate burned alive at Gradisca by the Venetians, the hearts of which three were found hairy; there must be moreover an heroic soul, informing this body.  
The Fifth alleged, that the Original of courage is to be sought in the nobleness of extraction, whether it be known or not. For though there seem to be some intervals in illustrious families proceeding from malignant influences, or other impediment; yet there is observed generally no less resemblance of children with their Ancestors in mind then in body; Eagles never producing Doves, nor Doves Eagles.    

CONFERENCE XLIX.  
I. Whether there be Specifical remedies to every Disease. II. Whether Tears proceed from Weakness.  

I. Whether there be Specifical remedies to every Disease.  
MEn, in imitation of Nature, always seek the shortest way. For which purpose they have thought fit to make maxims of every thing; whereas, to speak truth, there is no maxim of any thing; since by the most certain rule of all, there is none so general but hath some exception; yea some have so many exceptions that 'tis dubious on which side to make the rule. Nevertheless the mind of man forbears not to make axioms in all Sciences, especially in Physic: whose Office being to govern Nature, it involves in certain general laws all diseases, with their causes, symptoms and remedies, although as in the Law, so in Physic, two Cases are never alike. But when these rules come to be applied to practice, every one confesses that he finds them not wholly correspondent to what he expected. Now this is chiefly to be understood of particular Diseases and Specificks; as the Pleurisy, Cataract, or Gout. For general Infirmities, as simple Intemperatures, may be cured by general Remedies endued with contrary qualities.  
The Second said, Specific is that which is determined to some one thing, and hath above it the Generick; and below, the Individual. It is demanded, here, whether there be Remedies so determined to one species or sort of disease, as that they suit to that alone. I conceive that since there are diseases of all forms, as Pestilential, Venomous and Malignant, there are also Remedies so too: and experience shows in many admirable Cures that there are Remedies whose effects depend not on the first Qualities; as that Rheubarb purges, that Mugwort is good for the Mother, and Bezoar a Cordial, comes not from heat and dryness in such a degree; for then every thing that hath the same temperament should be likewise purgative, hysterical, and cordial; which is not true. But nothing hinders but a Remedy may be specifical to one particular Distemper by its occult qualities, and yet profitable and suitable to others by its manifest qualities; as the same thing may be both food and physic.  
The Third said, That this Question depends upon another, namely, whether mixed bodies act only by their temperature and first qualities, or by their substantial forms or specific virtues. For if the action of every thing depends not on the various mixture of its qualities, but on its whole form and substance, Medicines will never cure as they are hot or cold, but by a particular specific virtue arising from their form, wholly contrary to that of the disease. For understanding whereof, 'tis to be observed, that as the natural constitution of every mixed body consists in a perfect mixture of the four Elementary Qualities, in the good disposition of the matter, and in the integrity of the form; so the same may suffer mutation in either of these three manners, either according to its temperature, or according to its matter, or according to its form. Whence it follows that every mixed body, as medicaments are, may act upon our Nature, by its first, second, and third faculties. The first proceed from the sole commixtion of the four Qualities; according to the diversity whereof, the compound is either Hot, (as Pepper,) or Cold, (as Mandrakes) or Moist, (as Oil,) or Dry, (as Bole Armenick,) not in act, but in power. And by this First Faculty alone which follows the Temperament, a Medicament acts chiefly upon the Temperament of Bodies. Their Second Faculty arises from the various mixture of the same Qualities with the Matter. For a Hot Temperament, joined to a matter disposed according to the degree of Heat, will be opening, cutting, corrosive, or caustick; and so the rest, which have a great latitude according to the degrees of their mixtion, from which they are said to be attenuating or incrassating, detersive or emplastic, rarefying or condensing, laxative or astringent, attractive or repelling, mollifying or hardening. And by this Second Faculty alone Medicaments act upon the Matter. The Third Faculty of Medicaments arises not from their qualities or matter, but from their form and specific occult virtue; as in Sena the Faculty to purge Melancholy; in Terra Sigillata or Lemnia, to fortify the Heart against poisons; as also that Scorpions kill with the tail, and certain poison's cause death without any alteration of the Temper.  
The Fourth said, diseases are considered either in their genus, in their species, or in their individuals. In the first way, as a Disease is nothing but a disposition contrary to Nature, and injuring the actions; so it is cured by introducing the natural disposition. In the second, if it be a intemperature (e. g.) cold in the second degree, its specific is hot in the same degree; if it be an Organical Disease, (as an Obstruction) the only remedy is to unstop the passages; if it be solution of Continuity, all that's to be done, is, to conjoin that which is divided. But if a Disease be considered in the Individual, then particular remedies of the same nature be employed, which are the true specificks.  
The Fifth said, 'Tis true of the causes of Health, as well as of those of Diseases; that the same thing is hurtful or healthful to one but not to another, not only amongst the different species, but also amongst the individuals of the same species, in regard of the several circumstances. A remedy that recovered one kills another; yea, that which not long ago was healthful to an individual person is now quite contrary. So that 'tis impossible to assign any specificks for an individual person, which nevertheless is the subject on which the cure is to be done, and not the species of man.  
The Sixth said, Every thing in Nature is determined to a particular action, proceeding from its form and essence, which is more adapted to such action then to any other. So a Tree is determined to produce one kind of fruit rather than another. Now the same may be said of Remedies drawn from the three families; some are proper to purge a particular humour, whence they are callld Cholagoga, Melanogoga, Hydragoga, Emetics, Diuretics, Diaphoreticks, Discussives, Sternutatories, and Bechicks; others strengthen a particular part, whence they are called Cardiacks, Cephalicks, hepatics, and Splenicks; some have a faculty of resisting particular poisons; so Treacle is specifical against the biting of a Viper, a Scorpion's flesh applied upon its own wounds heals it; Oil of Pine-nuts is good against Arsenic; Long Aristoloch, or Rue, against Aconitum or Wolfs-bane; Citron Pill against Nux Vomica, or the Vomiting Nut; the seeds of Winter-cherry, against the Cantharideses, or Spanish Fly; Mumie against Ulcers caused by Tithymal; the flower of Water-lilly against Hellebore; the root of Eglantine, Gentian, balm, Betonie, Pimpernel, are excellent against the biting of a mad Dog; and so others of the like nature. Some Medicaments are called Annulets, because being worn about the neck, or laid to some part of the Body, they preserve from Diseases. So, by the testimony of Galen, Peony worn about the neck averts the Falling-sickness; the dung of a Wolf eases the Colic, and the Jasper strengthens the stomach. Trallianus affirms, that the Eagle-stone (Aetites) cures Quotidian Agues; the Beetle and green Lizard, quartans; that the forehead of an Ass, and a nail taken out of a shipwrecked vessel, is excellent for the Epileptic Fits. The ashes of Frogs is good against bleeding; the Lapis Judaicus, and the blood of a Goat, are useful against the stone of the Kidneys; the water of a Stag's horn, and the bone of his heart, are excellent for infirmities of the heart. Now to refer all these wonderful effects to the First Qualities, is a groundless thing: And therefore Galen derides his Master Pelops for attempting to render a reason of them.  
The Seventh said, That Physic, invented at first by use and experience, has nothing to do with Reason in things which fall manifestly under our senses, but only in such as surpass their comprehension; which being confirmed by Reason, are much more infallible. Nevertheless when Reason seems repugnant to Experience, we must rather hold to Experience, provided the same be established upon many observations. Now since Experience shows that there are Specifical Remedies, although humane wit, in regard of its weakness, cannot find out the cause of them; yet 'tis better in this case to rely upon the testimony of the senses destitute of Reason, then to adhere to Reason contradicted by Experience. Moreover, if there be Specificks for some Diseases, there are so for all; but they are unknown to us by reason of their multitude. And who is he that can know the virtues and properties of every thing which is in the world? The Chemists are of this opinion; for they hold that all Medicaments have Signatures or particular marks and figures, by which they have resemblance with the parts or diseases of Man's Body, and which are, as 'twere, the titles and inscriptions imprinted upon them by God's Hand, to teach Men their faculties. Hence the herb Lung-wort is very good for the Lungs; Ceterach and Harts-tongue for the Spleen; Poppy and green Nuts for the Head; Satyrium for the Testicles; Winter-cherry for the Bladder; Birth wort for the Womb; Madder for broken Legs; Eyebright for the Eyes; Solomon's seal, and Thorow-wax, for Ruptures; because the root of the one resembles a Rupture, and the stalk of the other passes through its leaf, as the Intestine doth through the Peritonaeum; the roots of Tormentil, red Sanders, and the stone Haematites, for bleeding; blessed Thistle, and other prickly Plants, for the pungent pains of the side.   

II. Whether Tears proceed from Cowardice.  
The Second Point may be determined by comparing the great and little world together. In the former, the Sun's heat draws up vapours and exhalations into the Air; if the vapours be more in quantity then the other, they dissolve into rain; if less, than the exhalations are turned into winds, lightnings, and other igneous meteors. And as we cannot infer from thence, that the Sun suffers any alteration, or is colder and hotter; for whether it reins or be fair, he is still the same: So neither must we attribute new qualities to the reasonable soul, though it finds in the brain a matter either apt to be condensed into tears, or to be resolved into the blustering storms, and other effects of Choler; yet 'tis always the same soul, which, according to the various temper of the body, is easily or hardly moved to tears. Women, Children, and old men, are prone to weep, because their brain is more moist than that of men of middle age; and again, those of them who are phlegmatic and sanguine are more inclined to tears then the choleric and melancholy; the latter least of all, in regard of the solidity and dryness of their brain, and the thickness of their blood. Although there is a sort of melancholy not-natural, much abounding in serosities; and for that reason styled Aqueous by Hypocrates. Now weeping is caused in this manner. A sad subject seizing upon the Heart, the Arteries carry the fuliginous vapours thereof to the brain, which discharging the same into the sink, called the Infundibulum, or Tunnel, they seek issue at the next passages, which are the mouth, the nose, and the eyes, at the great angle or Canthus, where the Glandula Lachrymalis, or Weeping Kernel is seated, which hath a hole like the point of a needle. This Glandule is made very small, whereas the Spleen, which causeth Laughter, and the Liver, which causeth Love, are very large; because Man might possibly want subjects for the two former, and consequently aught to be provided for, but not matter of sadness.  
The Second said, As amongst Animals Man hath the greatest brain, so he needs the most Aliment, and consequently makes more excrements than any other; these are collected in the anterior Ventricles, and between the membranes, where they remain till the Expulsive Faculty, incommoded by their too great quantity, or pungent quality, expels them by the usual passages; and thus they supply wax to the Ears, mucosity to the Nose, and tears to the Eyes. Whereby it appears that tears are not always signs of Pusillanimity, since they proceed from causes which no body can avoid. Moreover, Joy, as well as Sorrow, expresses tears, though by means wholly contrary. For Joy dilating and opening the passages by its heat, causes those humidities to issue forth; and Grief compressing the passages forces the same out; as a sponge yields forth the water which it had imbibed, if you either dilate it or squeeze it. Their saltness, bitterness, and acrimony, is common to them with all the serosities of the body, which they acquire by their continuance they make in the brain, as their heat by the spirits which accompany them. For the tears both of Joy and Sadness are hot, or rather tepid, though those shed in Joy seem cold, because the cheeks are warm in Joy, which draws the heat and spirits from the centre to the circumference; and in Sadness they appear hot, because they drop upon the cheeks which are cold, through the absence of the heat and spirits caused by sadness to retire inward. But those Tears which proceed from a disease, as from a defluxion or distillation, are really cold, because they are caused by the crudity of the humours.  
The Third said, That Tears of sorrow come not from compression, (for we cannot weep in a great sadness) but from a particular virtue which grief hath to send them forth. For Nature being willing to drive away the cause of Grief, sends the heat and spirits towards it, which heating the external parts attract the humours thither. Hence it is Onions lancinating the Eyes by their sharp spirits cause weeping, as smoke likewise doth, and the steadfast beholding of an object, and too radiant a light, by the pain which they cause to the sight. Nor does this hold good, only in pain but in grief, particularly in compassion, which is a grief we resent for another's misery. For the consideration of a sad object setting the humours in motion, and attenuating them, causeth them to distil forth by the Eyes, mouth, and nose. This is also the reason why those who run impetuously on horseback or afoot, sometimes drop rears; for the heat excited by this motion draws sweat forth over all the body; and tears to the Eyes, being of the same nature with sweat. Unless you rather think that this may be caused by the coldness of the new Air, which condenses and presses forth these humidities. Wherefore▪ we cannot absolutely pronounce that tears are Symptoms of Pusillanimity, seeing 'tis not in our power to restrain them what ever courage we have; and oftentimes example no less invites us, than duty obliges us, to let this torrent take its course.  
The Fourth said, If it be true that the most courageous are of the hottest constitution, 'twill follow that tears are rather a sign of Magnanimity then of Cowardice, since they are most frequent to such as abound in heat and moisture. For as water issues out of green wood heated by the fire; so tears are forced out of the Eyes by the internal heat excited by Joy, Grief, Anger, or other disorderly motion. For through the immoderateness of this heat the coldness of the Brain is increased by Antiperistasis, and endeavours to withstand it; for which purpose it collects together abundance of cold vapours, which the heat overpowering causes that cloud of humour condensed by cold to distil by the Eyes in a shower of tears. Yet if this be done too often, than the same happens to the man as doth to a stick or cudgel, which being too much bowed one way and the other, is at length broken. In like manner, a courageous person often provoked so far as to weep, at last becomes relaxed and softened through the loss and consumption of his spirits, which are the instruments of Courage. Therefore to weep too often is a sign of Pusillanimity and softness; never to weep, is stupidity; to weep sometimes for the miserable estate whereinto this valley of tears reduces us, 'tis necessity. Indeed, Our Lord wept often. Saint Peter, so courageous that he struck the only blow mentioned in the Gospel, wept bitterly. And Alexander wept for the death of Darius; as his own Triumphs caused Caesar to weep, in whom it was accounted Humanity that he wept at the sight of Pompey's head, as David did for the death of Saul.  
The Fifth said, That as griefs are diminished by weeping, so it may seem that tears should soften the courage which proceeds from anger, as most doth. And as pity is opposite to revenge, so tears seem contrary to valour, since they are so both to revenge and choler, which are the effects of magnanimity. Add hereunto, that we live by example; and therefore seeing tears more frequent to weak and effeminate persons then to others, we easily draw a general consequence, although the same admit many exceptions.    

CONFERENCE L.  
I. Whether Colours are real. II. Whether is better, to speak well, or to write well.  

I. Whether Colours are real.  
THe knowledge of men is never complete: what they know in one manner they are ignorant of in another. Nothing is so manifest to the sense as colour, nothing so obscure to the Understanding, which doubts whether it hath a real existence, or whether it only appears such to us, according as bodies variously receive the light. Indeed Green and Blew seem all one by a candle, and the same colour seems different from what it was by daylight; which again makes the species vary according to its diversity; for we judge of them otherwise in the twilight, in the Sun, and in the shadow; otherwise beholding them slopingly, directly, or through a coloured glass, or near some other lively colour. Are any colours fairer than those of the Rainbow; and yet they are no more real than those of the Clouds. The whiteness which we behold in the milky way ariseth only from the light of many small Stars. The necks of Pigeons seem of a thousand more colours than they have. The Heavens, the Air, and the Water, have none but what we fancy, or what their depth, and the weakness of our sight, giveth them. The scales of Fish, some small worms, and certain kinds of rotten wood, shining in the night, seem to us to be coloured. And Pictures are apprehended well or ill drawn according to their situation.  
The Second said, The object of Vision is colour; the Organ, the Eye; the medium is a Diaphanous body illuminated. Provided these three be rightly disposed, the Organ and the medium free from all colours, and the object at a convenient distance, all men will necessarily behold colours as they are, and always alike: which would not be so if they were imaginary, or fortuitous. Besides, being the object of the sight, the surest of all Senses, they ought to have a real existence, as all the objects of the other Senses have. For the object of the outward sense must be real, otherwise it cannot act upon the Organ; and the Agent and the Patient ought to agree in the same genus.  
The Third said, Colours, as all other second qualities, have a real existence, since they arise from the commixtion of moist and dry, caused by heat, and determined by cold. The first thing that happens in this mixtion is, that the humidity is thickened by the accession of some dry substance; and of this co-agulation is made a green colour, which therefore is the first of colours, as may be observed in water, the grosser parts of which become green moss; and in Plants when they first spring out of the earth. But if heat exceed in the mixtion, then ariseth the Red, Purple, and other lively and bright colours, which according as they degenerate, attain at length to Black, which is made by adustion. But when mixtions take a contrary course by cold, then arise all dead colours, which terminate in black too by a contrary cause, namely, the total extinction of heat, as 'tis seen in old men and dead persons, who are of a leaden and blackish colour. As therefore green is the first, so Black is the last of colours, yea 'tis properly no colour, especially when the humidity is already all consumed, as in coals; or is separated from the dry parts, as in things become black by putrefaction, as the gangrenous parts of an animal. Neither is white a colour, but a mean between colour and light. The rest are true colours.  
The Fourth said, Colours cannot proceed from the temperament or mixture of the four first qualities, because mixed bodies of different temperature have the same colour. Sugar, Arsenic, and all Salts, are white, the Crow and Raven are black; and, on the contrary, one and the same mixed body of the same temperature in all its parts, is nevertheless of several colours, which it changes without mutation of its temper. Ebeny is black in its surface, and grey within; Marble, Jasper, and Porphyry, delight the sight chiefly by the variety of their colours; yellow Wax grows white, and white becomes black, in the Sun. Nor can any one say, that the part of a Tulip which differs in colour from all the rest, is therefore distinct in quality. Wherefore since colours proceed not from the first elementary qualities, they are no more real than the intentional species of the sight; yea they are the very same thing; for the visible species are nothing else but qualities streaming from every terminated body, which alter the medium, filling the same with their images which they diffuse even into the Organ. Now colours are the same, being qualities which actually change and alter the Diaphanous and illuminated body.  
The Fifth said, This argues that we are ignorant of the reason of the mixtion of every body, and why such a body hath such a colour, but not that colours are not true and real. Yet with this distinction, that the colours alone which are seen with the conditions requisite to sensation are real, that is to say, exist really, and not in the Imagination. For if it were not so, we should see them as well by night as by day, and with our eyes shut as open; as that foolish Antiphon did, who thought he always saw his own image before him. And a sensible faculty ought to have a real and sensible object, since the object must be of the same nature with the faculty. But there are colours which are not really in the surface of bodies, though they appear so to us by reason of the divers reception of light, or of some other extrinsical colour of a transparent diaphanous body, or some other external cause which hinders the eye from discerning the true colour of the mixed body; which colour though appearing otherwise then it is, yet really exists, but is hidden under another apparent one, which continues as long as its external causes. And coloured bodies are no less so by night then by day; but because vision cannot be made unless the medium be illuminated 'tis only through the want of light that we see them not in the night. For although we perceive in the dark the eyes of Cats, Toad-stools, Worms, certain horns, and rotten wood, yet 'tis not their true colour, but a certain splendour different from colour; which proceedeth either from their igneous spirits, or because they approach near simplicity. There is, therefore, reality in colour; but it is considered two ways; either as a quality resulting from the mixture of the four Elementary qualities; (in which sense 'tis defined, by Aristotle, the extremity of a perspicuum terminated;) or as being simply visible, and is defined, by the same Philosopher, a motive quality of a body actually diaphanous. In the first signification, the colours seen in the Rainbow, or the yellow colour cast upon a white wall by the Sunbeams, passing through a glass or other medium of the same colour, are no more real and true colours of those subjects, than the blackness upon Paper by reason of the ink hiding its natural whiteness. But, in the latter signification, every colour whatsoever is real, since the one is as well visible as the other.  
The Sixth said, Colour differs not from light, saving that colour is the light of mixed, and light is the colour of simple bodies, which the more simple they are, they are also more luminous. But if they communicate not their light, 'tis for want of density, which is the sole cause of all activity. The parts of Heaven are equally luminous; and yet only the more dense and thick, as the Stars, can diffuse their light to us. If this light grows weak, it degenerates into a white colour, as we see in the Moon and Stars; if it be more extinct, it turns into other colours (as the Blue which we behold in a clear Sky) and forward into others, till it come to black, which is no colour, but a privation of it; as darkness is nothing but the privation of light. So that to dispute the reality of colours, is to question whether the clearest thing in the world, viz. Light, be real.  
The Seventh said, Light and Colour differ, in that Light is the act of the Diaphanous body, inasmuch as 'tis Diaphanous, and Colour the extremity of the Diaphanum, as it is terminated. For no Diaphanum, whilst it remains such, is coloured, but colour ariseth from the condensation and thickness of the Diaphanum, which terminates our sight. And though colour be as much in the inside of bodies as in their surface, yet 'tis not called colour, saving when 'tis visible, and 'tis visible only in the surface. Light is incorporeal and immaterial; colour, on the contrary, is a material and corporeal quality. Light makes colour to be seen, but makes itself seen by its own virtue. Yet there is this resemblance between them, that every thing which we see coloured, we see it as luminous (whence Plato, in his Timaeus, calls colour a flame issuing out of bodies) and every thing that we see luminous, we see it inasmuch as 'tis coloured: Whence the Stars appear to us of a pale, yellow, or red colour. And as that which is terminated is seen by means of the illuminated Diaphanum, so this Diaphanum is seen because 'tis terminated. For when we see the colour of a terminated body, we judge that there must be a transparent and diaphanous body between it and our eye. Wherefore, as the Intellect doth not know itself but by another; so the eye doth not see the Diaphanum, but by seeing that which is not diaphanous. But both the one and the other seems partly real, and partly imaginary, and arising from the various relation and proportion of the eye to the object and the medium: since, as for colours, not only some Pictures represent several personages, but one and the same Taffata changes colour according to the divers situation of the spectator's eye. And as for light, you shall have a worm that appears great, and shines in the night, but is little, and grey, in the day.   

II. Whether is better, to speak well, or to write well.  
Upon the second Point it was said▪ There is so great an affinity between Speech and Reason, that the Greeks have given the same name to both. As Reason is peculiar to man, so is Speech; and therefore (saith Aristotle) he alone has a large, soft and movable tongue, not only for the distinguishing of Tastes, as other Animals, but for the uttering of words, which are the interpreters of his thoughts; called words of the mind, as the other are external words. 'Tis this Speech which protects Innocence, accuses Crimes, appeases popular Tumults and Seditions, inflames Courage, excites to Virtue, dissuades from Vice, and gives praise to God and virtuous Men. Writing itself hath not much force, unless it be animated by Speech, which gives weight and grace even to the least things. This was employed by the Ancients when they feigned that Orpheus assembled even Trees and Rocks by the sound of his Harp, which is the Emblem of Speech. And, therefore, I judge Speech to have the precedence of Writing.  
The Second said, There are persons who speak well and write ill; others, on the contrary, write better than they speak; others (but very few) do both well. And yet, if it be not through fault of the outward Organs, it seems hard to conceive how 'tis possible for a man to write well and speak ill, since 'tis the same judge which dictates to both Clerks, the hand and the tongue. For though one ordinarily goes swister then the other, yet they must both express the same thought. But 'tis oftentimes with Speech as 'tis with faces, which seem handsome if you behold but a glance of them; whereas fixing your eye more wistly to consider them, you discern even the least faults; so a discourse, upon which you have not leisure to reflect, may seem elegant, yet displease you when 'tis unfurnished of its external ornaments, Pronunciation and Gesture. Moreover, we see how little effectual a Letter is in comparison of animated words, to which I also give the precedence. 'Tis of little importance to an Advocate whom his want of Eloquence causes to die of hunger, whether his reputation be made to live after his death. Nor was it from the eyes or hands of our Gallic Hercules that our Fathers made the golden chains proceed which drew the people by the ears, 'twas from the tongue. And 'twas with the voice that the Father of Roman Eloquence overswayed the mind of Caesar, and Demosthenes that of all Greece.  
The Third said, I much more prize Writing, which refines and polishes our conceptions, which otherwise escape from great persons but ill digested. Whence arose the saying, That second thoughts are usually the best. Moreover, Writing is of long duration, and is communicated to many how remote soever in time and place. Which astonished the people of the new world when they saw that the letters which the Spaniards carried to their comrades communicated the mind of one to another; and they thought them to be familiar spirits. But when this Writing is well performed, it hath great weight with Posterity too; whence it is that we still admire the brave conceptions of antiquity, which would have perished had they been delivered only in words, which die as they are born.  
The Fourth said, Writing hath this inconvenience that it cannot be comprehended by more than one or two persons at a time; whereas the Voice reaches to many thousand together; without receiving any diminution (which is some resemblance of Divinity) and consequently is the more noble.  
The Fifth said, If we judge of the preeminence of Speech or Writing, by the difficulty there is in either (according to the Proverb, which saith that the most difficult things are the most excellent) the question will remain undecided. For there was never either a perfect Penman, or perfect Orator; but if we judge of the advantage by the effects, 'tis certain that Writing hath more weight than Speech, and is therefore much more considerable. And though words once uttered cannot be recalled (no more than a written thing be retracted) yet being consigned to a very flitting and inconstant element, they are of little duration; whereas being written they last to eternity. Which consideration so highly incensed M. Anthony against Cicero, for publishing his Philippics against him; and made Bubalus hang himself for what Hippanax had written against him, as Lycambes did upon Archilochus' Iambics. For the benefits and mischiefs of Writing are great. Which makes for it, since the more excellent a thing is, the more hurtful the abuse of it is; and, according to Aristotle, Men abuse every thing, except Virtue.  
The Sixth said, 'Tis true, Speech is peculiar to man, but 'tis a token of the impotence and weakness of our mind, which cannot know other's thoughts in their purity, as Angels and blessed Spirits do, who understand one another without external Speech. But the soul of man is so subjected to the Senses, that it cannot apprehend spiritual things unless they be represented to it as corporeal. Besides, Speech belongs not so to man alone, but that brutes (especially, those who have soft, large and loose tongues, as Birds) can imitate it, but Writing they cannot. Moreover, a thing is more excellent by how much nobler the cause is on which it depends. But to speak well depends on the Organs rightly disposed; to write well, on the understanding alone. For the Air, the Lungs, the Tongue, the Teeth, and the Lips, make the Speech; but the mind alone begets the thoughts which writing consigns to the sight, the noblest of the Senses. Eloquence is diminished by Diseases, old Age, or the least indisposition of the Organs; but the style which depends on the Mind alone (which never grows old) becomes more vigorous as the body waxes weaker.  
At length it was said, That the present Question making up the Century of those propounded since the resolution of printing, it seemed fit to make them the first Volume of Conferences; and because this Number, the Season, the Example of others, the affairs which many have in the Country, and the necessity for minds as well as bodies to take some relaxation, require a Vacation for this Company; it is therefore adjourned till Monday before the Feast of St. Martin.    
The End of the First Part.   

PHILOSOPHICAL CONFERENCES. PART II. Monday, November 6. 〈…〉.  
FOr Introduction to the Ensuing Conferencs, it seems requisite that an Account be given of two things I. Of what passed during the Vacation. II. Of some difficulties touching these Exercises.  
As for the first; The Vacation was spent in the proposal and examination of divers Secrets and Curiosities of some Arts and Sciences, a few whereof shall be summarily mentioned in the order as they were proposed; and most of which were found true by the person● appointed by the Company, to examine and make experiments of the same.  
The First was a way to describe a Circle, of what greatness soever, without knowing the Centre of it, but supposing the Centre were inaccessible.  
II. A way to make the Varnish of China, black and yellow, gilded.  
III. To make a plain Looking-glass representing the objects upon its surface, and not inwards, as they usually appear.  
IV. To make a Spherical Mirror, representing the Figures in their true proportion, and not corrupted, as they are in the vulgar ones.  
V. To make one or more very conspicuous figures appear in the Air, by the help of a Concave Glass.  
VI To cool Wine speedily in Summer, and to freeze water for that purpose.  
VII. To decipher all common and decypherable Ciphers.  
VIII. To give the Invention of almost a number of Ciphers, which cannot be deciphered; as, among others, to write with a single point for each Letter: with two Books, in which no extraordinary mark is to be seen.  
IX. To write with a cipher, which may be read in two different Languages.  
X. To comprise under a manifest sense an other hidden signification, as ample as the first.  
XI. To write upon a body which will never perish, not even by Fire; at which alone it is to be read, and to answer thereunto by the same way, making the Letters disappear and return again at pleasure.  
XII. A way of writing or impression, which represents all the properties of every thing, with as few Letters as the ordinary way of writing.  
XIII. A way to give intelligence in six hours at a hundred leagues distance, without Bells, Canons, or the like means.  
XIV. A way to give intelligence in an instant of what is done at fifty leagues distance and more, and that of a sudden accident.  
XV. A way whereby a person being in his Closet may make his Mind understood in a hundred places of the house, and receive answers by the same way without noise, and without notice taken thereof by those that shall be in his company.  
XVI. To show and teach the true Proportions of Man's Body, in one Lecture, as exactly as Albert Durer hath done.  
XVII. To describe all Plat-forms, and design all the orders of Columns exactly, according to their true proportion.  
XVIII. A way to engrave very easily with Aqua Fortis, without knowing how to hatch.  
XIX. To cast Account without pen or counters, by a way which cannot be forgotten.  
XX. To learn the method of Writing in one hour, by retaining only three letters.  
XXI. To keep Flowers, yea, a whole Garden, fresh, throughout the year.  
XXII. To learn all the tricks and subtleties of Jugglers, and consequently to cease admiring them.  
XXIII. To make two solid bodies actually cold, which being together shall become so hot of themselves immediately, as not to be touched; and to keep their heat for several months, and possibly for some years.  
XXIV. To show in a portable Instrument, in small or greater proportion, all objects that shall be presented.  
XXV. To teach a Mother-language, of which all other Languages are Dialects, and may be learned by it: Which the Proposer affirms so easy, that he will teach the whole Grammar of it in six hours; but six months are requisite to learn the signification of all its words.  
XXVI. To teach all persons to argue without error, in all kind of Modes and Figures, in a quarter of an hour.  
XXVII. To show a secret, by help whereof any man may pronounce any strange Language as naturally as his own, be it Astatick, African, or American, and he an European; or, on the contrary; which is a way to remedy the bad Accents and pronuntiations both in strangers and natives, whereby they are so manifestly distinguished.  
XXVIII. To make a Girder or Joint broken in two or three places, to serve without pins.  
XXIX. To pierce a door immediately with a Candle not lighted.  
XXX. To make a Pistol of a foot and half in length carry three hundred paces.  
XXXI. To make a good quantity of fresh water speedily in the main Sea.  
XXXII. To measure the depth of the Sea, where the plummet cannot reach, or where it is unperceiveable.  
XXXIII. To show all the feats and subtleties that are performed with Cards, as to make the Card you think of come at what number is required; to tell 15. persons, who have two Cards a piece, what Cards every one hath, etc.  
XXXIV. To draw two lines, which being extended infinitely, shall always come nearer, but never meet.  
XXXV. To make a light without Oil, Wax, Tallow, Gum, or Fat, at small charge, which shall less offend the sight in a whole nights reading, than the light of an ordinary Candle doth in a quarter of an hour.  
XXXVI. To make Glasses, through which the Sun doth not penetrate, though his light do.  
XXXVII. To make old defaced Characters legible.  
XXXVIII. To continue under water for some hours without a Tube.  
XXXIX. To make a Needle which shall always turn towards the North, though it were never touched with a Loadstone.  
XL. To make a Fire without combustible matter, portable in any place whatsoever, fit to boil withal, and which will last many hundred years, yea, as long as the world.  
XLI. To make a Mineral Tree, of a mixture of Metals, which shall grow in form of a Tree in a vessel of Glass well closed.  
XLII. To turn Iron into Steel and Copper, to keep it from rusting; and give it such a temper, that a complete suit of Arms of three quarters less weight then ordinary shall resist Musket-shot.  
XLIII. To increase a Man's Pulse so that he shall seem to have a Fever; and to diminish it so, that he shall seem a dying, yet both without prejudice to his health.  
XLIV. Many Secrets were proposed for the preservation of Health, and Cure of Diseases, the mentioning whereof I defer till experience shall be made of them; Credulity being not less excusable, or more dangerous in any Art or Science, then in Physic; and therefore I am the more cautious and careful to publish none but certain things, and such as deserve to be communicated.  
As for the second Point, which consists in the resolution of some difficulties observed in the course of these Conferences; 'tis true, they were not sooner published but some took exception that there was not a choice made of some few persons to speak, any that seemed of quality being admitted to declare their Sentiments; because (said they) this diversity of minds, which is one of the wonders of the Universe, cannot but produce unpleasing discords and dissonances, sometimes prejudicial to the public: or, at least, they advised to restrain their discourses to certain laws and modifications, and limit to a set space of time, which it should not be lawful for any to exceed: and this in order to remedy the itch of speaking, no less then of writing, in many who are so fond of being heard.  
On the contrary, others liked nothing so much in this free commerce of wits as an unconfined liberty; conceiving nothing more advantageous for the initiation of the young, the divertisement of the old, and the honest recreation of all; nor which more testifies to Posterity the generous proceeding of those that govern, diametrically opposite to the tyrannical slavery of some others, than this public liberty afforded to every Gentleman to produce and speak what he thinks in these Conferences, regulated by the bounds prescribed by themselves, and so strictly observed, that the severest Censors of the host august Bodies, and Sovereign Courts, who are often present at them, have hitherto found nothing to disapprove therein, the persons nominated by the Assembly to preside in the same, having comported themselves with such civility towards those to whom they signified when it was time to cease speaking, that they have had abundant cause to be satisfied, and the Assembly taken more content in the diversity of the Speakers opinions, then if they had been all of one mind; as the identity of many sounds does not make harmony.  
Afterwards some propounded that only two persons might speak upon a Question, one for the affirmative part, and the other for the Negative; and in that, at most, a third might conciliate their different judgements in things wherein a third opinion might have place; to the end the hearers might have no more to do but to assent to that which should seem best. But as this hath been practised sometimes, and may be continued in matters convenient for it; so it seems injust to others, to stop the mouths of the rest of the company, only for the hearing of two or three; besides the tediousness of a long discourse; whereas the multitude of concise verdicts resembles a Nosegay diversified with many Flowers of different colour and odour: besides that there are many subjects, concerning which so different judgements arise that the number thereof cannot be limited; our Reason being so little captivated, that it finds out new paths every day to arrive at Truth which it goes to seek beyond the Imaginary spaces.  
Some, to make these Conferences the more esteemed, would have them held but once a month: others were so far from being weary of them, that they desired them every day. But to comply with both, it was thought expedient to hold them once a week.  
Some desired to handle but one Question; others, more. Experience hath manifested, that the former course would be tedious, and the latter full of confusion, could the brevity of the time admit it.  
The Points pitched upon at the last Conference to be treated in the next, were these.  

CONFERENCE LI.  
I. At what time the Year ought to begin. II. Why the Loadstone draws Iron.  

I. At what time the year ought to begin.  
SInce the Year begins by a Month; the Month by a Day; the Day by an Hour; the Hour by a Minute; the Question seems to demand at what moment the Year ought to begin. A Year is a space of Time; Time is the duration of motion; the most perfect of motions is the local; the most excellent of local motions is the circular and celestial, which bath something of infinity. Now, to speak generally, a Year is the revolution of some celestial Orb, and takes its name from the spherical bodies which return to the same place from whence they departed. So the year of Saturn, is of 10955 days and twelve hours; that of Jupiter, of 4331 days, eighteen hours; that of Mars, of 687 days; that of the Sun, of 365 days, six hours, wanting eleven minutes; th●se of Venus and Mercury are almost like that of the Sun; that of the Moon is of about twenty nine days. But the longest year of all is that of the eighth Sphere, called the perfect or Platonic year, at the end of which all the Stars are to return to the same places and distances that they had at the Creation, which shall be accomplished, as the Platonists say, in 490000 Solar years, by virtue of the Septenary multiplied seven times, according to the number of the seven other inferior Orbs; but more probably, according to Alphonsus, in 36000 years, considering that the eighth Sphere moves but one degree in a hundred years, and so in 36000 years pervades the 360 degrees of the Zodiac. The Cynical year of the Egyptians and Babylonians was measured by the course of the celestial Dog, or of Orion, and consisted of 1460 years. The Sabbatical year of the Jews was every seventh year; the Jubilary, every fiftieth, in which they rested, and the Trumpets sounded. Which minds me of the Intermission which this company made at its fiftieth Conference, after which the Trumpet animates us to a new Career. Now although civil years may be measured by the motion of any Celestial Body whatsoever; yet the Sun and the Moon, the two grand Luminaries, have been by general consent taken to describe the year; one whereof is called Solar, being the interval during which the Sun running through the twelve Signs of the Zodiac comes again to the same point from whence he set forth; the other is Lunar, being the space of time in which the Moon is twelve times in conjunction with the Sun (for otherwise the Lunar year, properly taken, is but one month) which year is of 354 days, eight hours, and some minutes; by consequence less than the Solar by about eleven days, whereof the difference and reduction is called the Epact. So that it must be known, in the first place, of what year the Question is to be understood. For if the Solar year be meant (as it seems to be) it must begin by the minute in which the Sun enters the first point of the Ram, who is for that reason said to open the year with his horns.  
The Second said, The Year is a Circle, for that cause hieroglyphically represented under the figure of a Serpent biting his own tail, and named by the Greeks Eniautos', that is to say, In itself, and by the Hebrews Schanah, which signifies Reiteration. As therefore there is neither beginning nor end in a circle, so neither is there properly in a year, each moment whereof may be its beginning and its end. Yet God's command to the Jews to begin the year with the month of March, joined to the probability that the world was then created, would make me to begin it so, had not Christians more reason to begin theirs by the day on which they received their most signal benefits from the hand of God, namely, our Saviour's Nativity. Yet not by Christmas day, but on that of the Circumcision, ' on which the Son of God began to effect the mystery of our Redemption by the effusion of his blood; as the same Christians compute their years, not from the Creation of the World, but from the Mystery of the Incarnation.  
The Third said, There are six terms, by which we may commence the year; namely the Apogaeum, and Perigaeum, of the Sun, the two Solstices, and the two Aequinoxes. The two first cannot be proper for it, because they are not fixed points, but movable according to the trepidation of the Firmament. Nor the Solstices, since they are different according to the several Nations. For our Summer Solstice is the Winter Solstice to our Antipodes, who dwell in the Southern temperate Zone; and, on the contrary, our Winter Solstice is their Summer Solstice. It follows then that the year must be begun by that of the Aequinoxes, in which the Sun first moved at the Creation, being the Springtime, in which the earth, according to God's command, produced the Germane or tender Grass, and green Herb. And this likewise is the time when the State of Heaven is such that the Astrologers make their surest Predictions from it of the whole constitution of the year ensuing.  
The Fourth said, That the year may with more reason be begun at Autumn, as being rather the Season when the world was created, for that the Trees are at this time laden with fruit; and God was no less provident to prepare food for man than he is for children new born, to whom their mothers no sooner give life but they have nourishment ready for them in their breasts.  
The Fifth said, That being the Aequinoxes and Seasons of the Year happen not always at the same time in respect of all people, they cannot be a general rule for the beginning of the year, which 'twere more expedient to refer to the moment of the Creation. But because only he that knows the end of it knows the beginning of it, there remains nothing to men but light conjectures: The fruits which appeared upon the Trees concluding no more necessarily for Autumn then the tender Grass of the earth for the Spring, or the nakedness of our first Parent for Summer, and the sterility of the earth immediately after his sin, for Winter. Yea, were the instant of the Creation known to us, we should be still in doubt, whether to begin the year from the day of the Creation which was Sunday, or from the fourth day which is Wednesday, on which the Sun and Moon were created; since the year depends upon their Revolution; or lastly, from the sixth which is Friday, on which Adam was created, who alone was capable among all creatures to compute their motions. I should therefore judge it best to take the Apogaeum of the Sun, or the moment wherein he is most elevated above the earth, as the most noble and eminent place in which he is found during the whole course of the year, being then as in his throne, from whence he makes himself conspicuous to all the world; rather then in any other place of Heaven, and consequently may then better serve for a signal of the end of one year and the beginning of another. And although the years would not be perfectly equal in duration, yet the difference would be but small, and they would be computed by all men after the same sort, which is the thing required.  
The Sixth said, The commencement of the year is as various as that of the day; which the Persians and Babylonians began at the rising of the Sun, the Arabians from one Noon to another, as the Astrologers still do, to find the Houses of the Sun and other Planets: the Jews, from Sunset, or from one evening to another, according to what is said in Genesis, that the Evening and the Morning were one day; which way of counting the hours is still practised in Italy, Bohemia and Silesia. The remainder of Christians reckon their day from one midnight to another; because the night was before the day, as we read, in Genesis, that in the beginning darkness covered the face of the deep; but chiefly because our Lord was born at midnight. So that 'tis an indifferent thing both where the natural day be begun, provided its revolution be always of twenty four hours; and where each people begins the Solar year, provided they agree upon the revolution of the Sun, and end it at the same point where they began it.  
The Seventh said, Although nothing be more certain than the measure of the Sun's course, composing the Astronomical year, which is divided into Conversional or Tropical, and sidereal. Yet being this course is not concluded in an entire number of months, days, nor yet of hours (for some minutes must be added to it) hence ariseth the difficulty to regulate the years; the confusion whereof has been increased by the divers political and civil years established by Legislators who have endeavoured to comply in this point with the vulgar, which likes nothing but what is entire and easy to comprehend. Romulus began his year at the Vernal Aequinox, and composed it of 304 days divided into ten months. Numa observing that the course of the Sun, and the Lunations did no agree, and that the cold weather was often found in Summer, and Harvest in Winter, added January and February to it. The progress of time having shown that this reformation was still imperfect, Julius Caesar, 670 years after him, assisted by Sosigenes a great Mathematician, corrected the defect, adding three months to the year in which he made this rectification, which was the 708th year of the building of Rome; namely, two months between November and December, one of 29 days and the other of 30: and another of 30 days at the end of December, to make up the days which were passed. So that this year Debtors had three month's respite. Then he divided the year into 365 days, for this cause called from his name the Julian year. But because the Sun is near six hours more in accomplishing his Period, he added a day every fourth year after the twenty third of February which they called Sexto Calendas, and because in counting it twice they said bis sexto Calendas, this year truth thence retained the name of Bissextile, attributed by the vulgar to sinister and unfortunate things. And to confirm the months to the Lunations, he was contented to observe that every nineteenth year the Moon is found in the same place; which was the discovery of another Mathematician of Athens named Meton. And forasmuch as they marked this number of 19 in their Calendar with a cipher of gold, thence it came to be called the Gold Number. The Christians took up this Calculation as the best of all. But because there wants eleven minutes every fourth year to make the Bissextile or Leap-year entire, it was found that from the time of Julius Caesar to Gregory XIII. the Lunations and Aequinoxes had anticipated ten days, which rendered the Golden Number useless, and removed Easter and other movable Feasts out of their true place. Therefore this Pope, assisted by Doctor Lilio a Physician, retrenched those ten days throughout all Christendom, except in places who are not pleased with novelty, unless so far as it displeases the Pope. Which anticipation will always oblige future Ages to use a like reformation of the Julian year; which we begin from the midnight which precedes the first Sun-rise of the month of January. But the most sensible knowledge to be had of the duration and beginning of the Solar year is obtained by observing the day on which the shadow of the perpendicular needle of a Quadrant is found longest at noon, being a certain sign that the Sun is then most depressed, and consequently that we must there set down the end of the preceding year and the beginning of the next, which is visible by the exaltation of the Sun, whose shadow will not be found equal again till after the revolution of a just year.   

II. Why the Loadstone draws Iron.  
Had Stones life, as Cardan held, the solution of the second Question would be easy. For the Loadstone's drawing Iron would be no more a wonder than an Animal's going to seek its food. Now of those things which draw others, some do it for eschewing of vacuity: so water and other more ponderous bodies ascend, air and other light bodies descend, either of them against its proper inclination, to prevent a vacuum. Others do it, out of desire to obtain what they need, as their nourishment. So Plants attract the juice of the earth; the Gallbladder, Choler; the Spleen, the Melancholy humour; and every part, blood. Others do it by the mutual resemblance of the spirits issuing out of them; such is the first motion of affection arising between two persons of the same humour and inclination. But others are moved locally with out any manifest and corporeal cause; so are the vapours and the dew drawn up by the Sun; straw by Amber; the womb by good smells; the Loadstone by the North-star, the Heliotrope and Selenotrope by the Sun and the Moon, whose motions they follow. Now in attraction, it is requisite that the attractive virtue be stronger than the resistance of the body which is attracted. The greatest resistance is from the ponderosity of a body; the elevation of which without manifest cause is accounted miraculous, and attributed by Divines to the Divine Power alone; as when our Lord walked upon the water. And so indeed would be the suspension of the gravity of iron attracted by the Loadstone, if it were not ordinary: the cause whereof may be ascribed to the meeting of spirits streaming out of the Iron and the Loadstone; which being viscous and once joined together are somewhat hard to be separated.  
The Second said, That as every body diffuses about it visible, odorable, and sonorous species, which appear not to us, unless they be reflected by some body proper to unite them; the visible species, by a Glass; odours by heat; sound, by a hollow body, such as makes the Echo: In like manner, the Loadstone and the Iron emit attractive species round about, which are lost, unless these of the one light upon those of the other; for than their nature is, so to conjoin themselves that their union is indissoluble otherwise then by violence: wherein there seems to be no greater marvel than in all other motions of natural bodies, which act variously one upon another according to the disposition of the next matter. So the fire acts upon combustible matter, and not upon other; the reason of these affects depending upon the determination of every particular cause, the chain whereof is invisible and concealed from men.  
The Third said, The Superior bodies act upon the inferior, and all motions here below proceed from those of the Celestial Bodies, which are therefore purposely contiguous. That of the Loadstone and Iron proceeds from the polar Stars, which act so sensibly upon this Stone, that being hung up in aequilibrio, it spontaneously turns one part towards the Arctic, and the other towards the Antarctick Pole; unless in certain places where it varies between five and six degrees, because 'tis drawn by a stronger magnetic virtue proceeding from the Earth. But this Stone draws Iron the more easily, because 'tis almost of the same nature with itself; and the Magnet is easily turned into Iron in the Mines by a coction made by the virtue of the same stars. For the liker things are, the more inclined they are to unite together; so Flame unites with Flame, the drops of water join together, a great Loadstone draws the less, and Steel attracts the filings of steel.  
The Fourth said, As there is a civil converse between men, for preservation of society, so there is a natural one established by God amongst the other creatures, for the support of their common being, consisting chiefly in their being moved one towards another: Fire attracts unctuous exhalations, and itself tends towards the Etherial fire, the Air is drawn by the Lungs, the Sea is drawn up by the Moon, which causes its ebbing and flowing; straw and dust by the Agate, Iron by the Loadstone; the virtue whereof, together with the occult properties of all other bodies, I attribute to that universal Spirit which carries every entity to its particular good.  
The Fifth said, If we would understand the causes of the motion, we must first discover their nature, which is the principle of motion. Now the particular nature of every thing is unknown to all men, as well as the proportion of the mixture of their substances, whereon their occult properties depend, as the manifest qualities do on the mixtion of their first qualities; which we are wont to call manifest, not but that the reason of them is as difficult as of the rest, but because they are more ordinary. Which indeed has caused us to give them the name, e. g. of lightness to the fire, heaviness to the earth, though no person has hither to assigned the cause thereof. Give but a name to this quality which the Iron hath of moving towards the Loadstone, it will be as manifest as the motive virtue which carries a stone towards its centre. We may indeed allege the final cause of both, and say, in general, that 'tis the good of the thing moved that sets it in motion, or, on the contrary, the good of the thing whereunto it tends that moves and attracts it, but the formal cause, which we here inquire, is equally unknown.  
The Sixth said, That Iron is carried to the Loadstone as to its good, and as the stone to its centre; and hence it is that the Iron turns towards the North, which is the native place of the Magnet. For being a natural, not a violent motion, the motive faculty must be in the Iron, which moves itself; the goodness of the object attracting only by a metaphorical motion, which supposes a motive faculty in the thing moved.    

CONFERENCE LII.  
I. Of a Point. II. Whether other Animals besides Man have the use of Reason.  

I. Of a Point.  
IF it be true that there are more wonders in a Hand-worm then in an Elephant, because all the faculties which are extended and have their manifest causes and instruments in the latter, are found compendiously Epitomised in the former, and (as it were) independent of their organs; there will be more wonders in a Point then in all the rest of the bodies which are composed of it. Indeed there's nothing so small as a Point, and yet 'tis the object of most Sciences. Grammar treats of the Point of distinction; Natural Philosophy, of the Point of reflection, and that which serves for the Centre of the Earth; Astrology of the vertical points, Zenith and Nadir, and makes use of them to compute the motions of the Celestial Bodies. Geography hath its four Cardinal Points. All Sciences and Arts borrow this word, to give some order to the things whereof they treat. Lastly, it serves for a principle to Geometry which begins its first Propositions with it. And because, if we believe Plato, every beginning is divine; a Point which is the principle of a line (as this is of a surface, this of a body; an instant, of time; and an unite, of number) hath something of Divinity; which Trismegistus, for that reason, calls a Centre or Point, whose Circumference is no where; and therefore they who hear us speak of a Point must not think that it is of an inconsiderable matter.  
The Second said, Although much is not to be argued from our manner of speaking, in which the word Point (with us French) signifies a negation; yet it seems to imply, that if it be something, it wants but little of being nothing. For to speak truth, a Point is the mean which is found between nothing and something. 'Tis not an accident; for it doth not betid, befall or arrive to a substance, but is before, and inseparable from the same. Nor is it a substance, since a substance is infinitely divisible, but a Point is that which hath no parts, that is to say, is indivisible. We cannot compare it to an instant in respect of time, for the time past hath been instant or present, and the future shall be so; but a Point is not, and never shall be, a quantity, nor to a Unite, in regard of Number; since Number is made of Unites, and an Unite added to the greatest number whatever renders the same yet greater; whereas a hundred Millions of of Points together make but a Point, because that which hath no quantity of itself cannot give any. Nevertheless 'tis most probable that a Point exists really, since 'tis the foundation of all other quantities; and two Spheres exactly round touch one another but in a Point.  
The Third said, As there is no mean between contradictories, so neither can there be any between nothing and something, Entity and Non entity. Now a Point being the term of a line, and every where in it, must consequently be some thing. Yea I maintain that it is a body and divisible, by this argument. One sole Being is not finite, to wit, the Creator; all others, to wit, the Creatures, and every part of them, are finite. Every finite thing is composed of parts, being composed of ends or extremities, and a middle. For it would be as ridiculous to say that a thing is finite with out ends, as to say that a thing is long without length, or hot without heat. A mathematical point is a finite thing. Therefore 'tis composed of parts. To say that it is finite negatively, and not positively, cannot hold. For as every mensurable solid is composed of and terminated by Mathematical surfaces, these by lines, and lines by points; so a point is composed of and terminated by its ends, which are its parts and extremities: these again being composed of parts external and internal, are also finite, and consequently divisible to infinity. Therefore a Point is not finite by negation, which is nothing, since nothing is not the term of a Point. Neither is it terminated by itself, since every thing is bounded by some term which is without it; and if nothing cannot measure itself, much less can it bound or perfect itself. For 'tis so true, that every solid, how small soever, is divisible to infinity, that the Naturalists maintain that if by Divine Omnipotence (Humane and Angelical power being too short) a grain of Millet should be divided into a hundred millions of parts every moment from the Creation to the end of the World, the progression would never come to an Indivisible Point. This is justified by the Section of a Circle or Globe. For if the Diametre of a Circle be divided into two equal parts, the Centre of it, which is a point, will be semblably into two equal parts; for it must not be all on one side; otherwise the division would be unequal; nor must it be turned into nothing since 'tis not possible for any thing to be annihilated naturally. But if those two Semidiametres were reunited as at first, the two parts of the divided Point would be rejoined into one point which would make the Centre again. In like manner if a Globe perfectly round touched a perfect plain, all agree that it would be in a Mathematical point, which is not indivisible. For the point of the plain hath parts, since it hath all the situations of place whereunto parts answer, namely before, behind, above, below, right and left; and the point of the Globe touches the point of the plain in the upper part; now that which hath an upper part hath also an under part. Moreover, every point is part of the body in which it inheres; for a Part is one finite thing united to another, composing the whole with the other parts together. But the point of the Globe is such; else it must be said that the surface of the Globe is no part of it. Seeing there is the same proportion between a point and a line, a line and a surface, as there is between a surface and a body; and that when a Globe rolls upon many points, it rolls also upon the surface, which therefore differs not from them but by More and Less. Whence it follows that a Mathematical, point is a small term of quantity, uniting and terminating Mathematical lines without length, breadth and depth mensurable and consequently a body. For it is composed of parts irrational and inexpressible; that is, which the Mathematician cannot tell how long, broad and deep, they are.  
The Fourth said, Nature has hid the highest mysteries in the lowest, and seemingly vilest things; which also are hardest to be understood; not so much through imperfection of essence; for an atom flying in the air is as true an essence as the whole earth: But because our senses perceive only such objects as are able to excite a motion in the Organs; now a Point cannot do this, and so the Intellect which judges of things by the species received, cannot receive those of a Point, nor consequently have perfect knowledge of it. Therefore the Philosopher defines not a point By what it is, but By what it is not, when he saith that a Point is something imperceptible inherent in the Continuum. Yet this knowledge of a point by negation, is not by negation of essence but of divisibility, it being of its own nature an indivisible entity. For if it can be divided into other parts, 'tis no longer a point, 'tis a line, and must be so termed how small soever it be. Essence not finite is incommunicable to the Creator, being a perfection of immense grandeur; yet a Point may be of an essence not finite too, because such essence is in a Point an imperfection, and privation of greatness. Moreover, a Point is either continuant or terminant; each of which is nothing but a mode of being, a respect and correspondence of parts one to another; which consequently may be produced and annihilated without miracle, as modes, forms, and figures are. For supposing a Globe exactly divided into two parts, there's no more inconvenience in saying that the Central point is perished, then that when a ball of Wax is pressed flat, the Spherical figure ceases to be.  
The Fifth said, That as in the Creation natural bodies were made of nothing, so the production of Mathematical bodies begins by a Point which is a nothing: And (indeed) a Point is so far from being demonstrated a reality by the application of a Globe upon a Plain, which cannot touch one the other but by a line, that the most slender and inperceptible point of a Needle falling perpendicularly upon the most polished steel, yea (if 'twere possible) upon as small a point of another Needle, cannot touch one another but by the surface of their body: Whence it appears that a Mathematical Point is infinitely less than any material point whatsoever, which only represents the figure thereof grossly to our senses.   

II. Whether Brutes have Reason.  
The second Point was prefaced with the consideration of the difficulty of a fair discussion, because men are parties; and none is competent to determine the question but either he that is above both man and beast, or equally participates of both: it being as likely in the general cause, as 'tis usual in all particular, that men will arrogate the advantage to their own species. Yet man's dominion over beasts, the conformation of his body, the operations of his mind, and the works of both compared to those of other animals, seem to decide the question. For man alone knows, not only God, and the other creatures, but also himself, by a reflection of the Understanding, which is the highest act of Reason. His body alone is shaped so that his eyes are erected towards heaven, his members are flexible and versatile, especially his hand (the organ of organs;) he sits down most commodiously and gracefully at the exercising of all Arts; and his manifold artificial productions, perfecting and surpasing those of nature, find nothing comparable to them amongst those of other animals. And therefore I adhere to the Holy Scripture, which denies understanding to beasts; and to what antiquity, especially Philosophy, determines, which hath found no more peculiar difference whereby to distinguish man from beast then Reason.  
The Second said, Since Reason is the hand of Judgement, as the speech is of Reason, and the hand itself is the instrument subservient to speech; one of these degrees must lead us to the knowledge of the other. I mean, that since Reason is the hand of the Judgement, such animals as shall be found to have judgement can no more be without Reason then a man naturally without a hand. Now all are constrained to acknowledge some judgement in animals, for otherwise they could not exercise the functions of their external and internal senses, which divers have in a more eminent degree than we. They have a Common Sense; for they distinguish the objects of the senses; a Fancy, since they are all equally lead to sensible good; many of them are endued with memory, as Dogs and Horses, which bark and neigh in their sleep; which cannot be done but by some higher faculty, uniting and enjoining the species drawn out of their memory: an effect not possible to proceed from any other cause then Reason. But that which removes all scruple, is, that they are capable of discipline; and there's no feat of activity but they learn it sooner than Man; witness the Elephants which danced upon the rope at Rome, and the Goats which do as much here at this time; not to mention Dogs, Horses, Apes, and other Creatures which are managed, and Birds which are taught to speak.  
The Third confirmed this Opinion by the Example of the Elephant, who before the Tinker was paid, tried whether the kettle (wherein he used to have his food) was well mended by filling it with water; of the Ox, who never drew up above a certain number of buckets of water; of the Fox, who caused the water in a pitcher to ascend by filling it with stones, and always lays his Ear to a frozen river, to hear whether the water moves under the Ice, before he trusts himself upon it; of the Dog, who having scented two paths, casts himself into the third without Smelling at all, and concludes that the tract of his game; of the Cat, which although hungry dares not eat the meat she sees, for fear of the whip which she sees not. All which he said were so many Syllogisms, and concluded with an induction of sundry Animals, which gave Man the knowledge of building, as the Swallow; of spinning, as the Spider; of hoarding provisions, as the Pismire, to whose School Solomon sends the sluggard; of presaging fair weather, as the Kings-fisher; the downfall of houses, as Rats and Mice; of making Clysters, as the Ibis; of letting blood, as the Hippopotamus, or Sea-horse; That to accuse our Masters of want of Reason, is an act of notorious ingratitude.  
The Fourth said, Faculties are discovered by their actions, and these are determined by their end. Now the actions of Men and beasts are alike, and have the same End, Good, Profitable, Delightful, or Honest. There is no Controversy concerning the two former. And Honesty, which consists in the exercise of Virtue, they have in an eminent degree. Witness the courage of the Lion, in whom this Virtue is not produced by vanity or interest, as it is in men. Nor was it ever seen that Lions became servants to other Lions, (as we see Men are to one another for want of courage) which prefers a thousand deaths before servitude. Their Temperance and Continence is apparent, in that they are contented with pleasures lawful and necessary, not resembling the disorderly Appetites of Men, who not contented with one sort of food depopulate the Air, the Earth, and the Waters, rather to provoke then satiate their gluttony. The fidelity of the Turtle, and the Chastity of the Dove, are such as have served for a Comparison, in the Canticles, of the Spouse. The fidelity of the Dog to his Master exceeds that of Men. The Raven is so Continent, that 'tis observed to live 600. years without a Male, if her own happen to be killed. For their good Constitution gives them so long a life, which in Men Nature or their own disorders terminate within a few years. As for Justice, the foundation of all Humane Laws is the Natural, which is common to beasts with Men.  
The Fifth said, Reason is a proportion, correspondence, and adjustment, of two or more things compared one with another; whence it follows that being Comparison cannot be made but by Man, he alone is capable of Reason. Moreover, he alone exercises Justice, which is nothing else but the same reason which he judges to every one, under which is comprehended Religion, a thing unknown to brutes; when Prudence, Fortitude, and Temperance, are improperly attributed, because these are habits of the Will, (which Faculty brutes have not) and presuppose a knowledge (which they want too) of the vicious Extremes of every of their actions.  
The Sixth said, 'Twas not without Reason that the first Age of Innocence, and afterwards Pythagoras, upon the account of his Metempsychosis, spared the lives of beasts; that when God saved but four couple of all Mankind from the deluge, he preserved seven of every clean Animal, and made the Angel which withstood the Prophet Balaam rather visible to his Ass then to him; that this Animal, and the Ox, (whose acknowledgement towards their Masters is alleged by Isaiah, to exprobriate to the Israelites their ingratitude towards God) were the first witnesses of our Saviour's Birth, who commands to be innocent and prudent, like some of them. Which presupposes not only Reason in them, but that they have more thereof then Man, with what ever cavillation he may disguise their virtues; saying, that what is Knowledge in God. Intelligence in Angels, Reason in Man, Inclination in Inanimate Bodies, is Instinct in brutes. For since a beast attains to his End better than Man, and is not so subject to change as he, it may seem that a nobler name should be given to that Faculty which accomplisheth its work best, then to that is for the most part deficient therein. And therefore either a brute hath more reason than Man, or that which Man calls Instinct in a beast is more excellent than his Reason, a Faculty ordinarily faulty, subject to surprise and to be surprised.  
The Seventh said, 'Tis too rustic an impiety (to use Saint Austine's words against the Manichees, who inclined to this Error) to believe that beasts have Reason, since they have not a perfect use of all the outward Senses, but only of such as are altogether necessary to their being, Touching, and Tasting: For Smells, Sounds, and Colours, move them not, further than the same are serviceable to those two senses. Nor must we deceive ourselves by their having a Fancy or Inferior Judgement; so long as they have nothing of that Divine Piece by which Man knows Universals, defines, composes, and divides, comprehends similitudes and dissimilitudes with their causes. They have an Appetite too, by which they are carried towards their proper Good. But because their knowledge of this Good is neither sufficient nor entire as that of Man is, who alone knows Good as Good, the End as such; this Appetite is ruled and guided by a superior cause, (as a Ship by the Pilot) which cause necessarily leads this Appetite to good, as it also inclines the stone to its centre, which it never fails to find. So that this infallibility alleged in the works of brutes is rather a sign of their want of Reason, which is the cause that Man endued with sufficient knowledge, and for this reason placed between Good and Evil, Fire and Water, can alone freely move towards the one or the other; whence it comes to pass that he frequently fails in his purposes, because his Reason oftentimes takes appearance for truth.    

CONFERENCE LIII.  
I. Whether there be more than five Senses. II. Whether is better, to speak, or to be silent.  

I. Whether there be more than five Senses.  
THe Maxim, That things are not to be multiplied without Reason, is founded upon the capacity of the Humane Mind, which being one, though its faculties be distinct in their Operations, conceives things only under the species of unity. So that when there are many in number, it makes one species of them; of many specifically different, one Genus; and, consequently, can much less suffer the making two things of that which is but one. This has given ground to some to affirm, That there is but one External Sense, which ought no more to be distributed into five species under pretext that there are five Organs, than one and the same River which here makes bellows blow, and hammers beat, presses cloth, and decorticates oats, or grinds flour; For 'tis one breath which passing through several Organs and Pipes renders several tones; one and the same Sun, which penetrating through various glasses represents as many colours. Moreover, their end is to all the same, namely, to avoid what may hurt, and pursue what may profit the Creature.  
The Second said, This would be true, if the Soul alone were the Subject of Sensation; but when the Eye is pulled out, although the visual spirits remain entire; or if the Eye being sound and clear, yet some obstruction hinders the afflux of the spirits to it, (as in a Gutta Serena) there is no vision made: An Evidence that seeing is an action of both, and, consequently, the Senses are as many as the several Organs which determine and specificate the same. But the Taste being comprehended under the Touch, by the Philosopher's definition, must be a species thereof; and therefore there are but four Senses, as four Elements, the Taste and the Touch (which it comprehends) being exercised in the earth gross as themselves; the Sight in Water, in which its Organ swims, and of which it almost wholly consists; the Smelling by the Fire, which awakens odours, and reduces them out of power into act; and the Hearing, in the Air, which is found naturally implanted in the Ear, and is the sole medium of this sense, according to Aristotle; the hearing of Fishes being particular to them in the Water, and very obscure.  
The Third said, He was of Scaliger's mind, who reckons Titillation for the sixth sense. For if the Taste, though comprehended under the Touching, (as was said) constitutes a distinct sense, why not Titillation, which is a species of Touching too; considering that it represents things otherwise then the ordinary Touch doth, and hath its particular Organs, as the soles of the Feet, the palms of the Hands, the Flanks, the Armpits, and some other places. Yea, Touching may be accounted the Genus of the Senses, since all partake thereof.  
The Fourth said, That those actions which some Animals perform more perfectly than we, (as the Dog exceeds us in Smelling, the Spider in Touching, the Eagle in Seeing, and many in presaging the seasons and weather) seemed to be the effects of 6, 7, or 8 Senses; there being no proportion between such great extraordinary effects and their Organs, the structure whereof is the same with those of other Animals, which come not near the same. Yea, that 'tis by some supernumerary sense found in each Animal, that they have knowledge of what is serviceable or hurtful to them in particular. For example, who teaches the Dog the virtue of Grass, the Hart of Dittany? their ordinary Senses cannot. Nor is it likely that so many occult properties have been produced by Nature, to remain unknown. But they cannot be understood unless by some Sense which is not vulgar, considering that all the Senses together understand not their substance.  
The Fifth said, There are five external Senses, neither more, nor less; because there needs so many and no more, to perceive and apprehend all external objects: And as when one of our Senses is depraved or abolished, another cannot repair it, nor succeed it in all its functions; so if there were more than five, the overplus would be useless, there being no accident but falls under the cognisance of these five Senses: And although each of them is not sufficient thereunto severally, yet they serve well enough all together; as in the perception of motion, rest, number, magnitude, and figure, which are common objects to divers Senses. Now if there were need of more than five Senses, 'twould be to judge of objects wherein the others fail. So that the supernumeraries being unprofitable, 'tis not necessary to establish more than five. And as for substance, 'tis not consistent with its Nature to be known by the external Senses.  
The Sixth said, Man being composed of three Pieces, a Soul, a Body, and Spirits of a middle Nature between both; the five Senses suffice to the perfection and support of these three parts. Knowledge, which is the sole Good of the Soul, is acquired by invention and discipline; for which we have Eyes and Ears. Good Odours recreate and repair the Spirits. The Touch and Taste are the body's guards, the first by preserving it from hurtful qualities which invade it from without; and the second, from such as enter and are taken in by the mouth. And therefore 'tis in vain to establish more.  
The Seventh said, Since, according to the Philosophers, Sense is a passive quality, and Sensation is made when the Organ is altered by the object; there must be as many several Senses as there are different objects, which variously alter the Organs. Now amongst Colours, Odours, and other sensible objects, there are many different species; and the qualities perceived by the Touch are almost infinite. Nor is it material to say that they all proceed from the first qualities, since Colours, Odours, and Tastes, are likewise second qualities arising from those first, and nevertheless make different Senses.  
The Eighth said, Although it be true, that Faculties are determined by objects, yet must not these Faculties be therefore multiplied according to the multitude of objects. So, though White and Black are different, nevertheless because they both act after the same manner, namely, by sending their intentional species through the same medium, to the same Organ, the Sight alone sufficeth for judging of their difference.  
The Ninth said, Since four things are requisite to Sensation, to wit, the Faculty, the Organ, the Medium, and the Object; 'tis by them that the number of Senses is determined. The Object cannot do it, otherwise there would not be five Senses, but infinitely more. Nor can the Faculty do it, being inseparable from the Soul, or rather the Soul itself, and consequently but one; and to say that there is but one Sense, is erroneously to make an external Sense of the Common Sense. Much less can the Medium do it, since one and the same Medium serves to many Senses, and one and the same Sense is exercised in several Mediums, as the Sight in the Air and the Water. It remains therefore that the diversity proceed from that of the Organs, which being but five, make the like number of Senses.   

II. Whether is better, to be silent or to speak.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, 'Tis a greater difficulty, and consequently more a virtue, to hold one's peace then to speak; the latter being natural to Man, and very easy, when he has once got the habit of it; but the former is a constrained Action, and to practise which handsomely the Mind must be disciplined to do violence to the itch of declaring itself; every one conceiving it his interest that the truth be known. And there are fewer examples of those that have saved themselves by speaking, then of those that have lost themselves by not keeping Secrecy; justly termed the Soul of the State and of affairs, which once vented, of easy become impossible. Whence arose the name of Secretaries for principal Ministers and Officers of States and great Houses; and indeed, 'tis at this day a title affected by the meanest Clerks, testifying thereby in what esteem they have Silence. And the unworthiest of all Vices, Treachery, ordinarily takes advantage of this defect of Secrecy, which renders Men full of chinks, and like a sieve, so that many can more easily keep a coal in their mouths then a secret. On the contrary, Silence is so much reverenced, that the wisest persons, when they are to speak or write, come the nearest it they can by their brevity; and that upon this account the fool, so long as he holds his peace, differs not from the wise. Therefore Pythagoras made it the chief point of his Philosophy, leaving his Scholars for five years to do nothing else but hear, and abstain from eating fish, out of the particular esteem he had thereof for its taciturnity. All Monastic persons account it one of their highest virtues, and the introduction to all others; and the Pagans made a God of Silence, named Harpocrates, whose Statue held a finger upon its mouth. And both the sacrifices of this god and all their other mysteries, (which word implies Secrecy) were performed without speaking. Therefore Alexander meaning to teach Hephaestion, that he that would serve his King well must know well how to be silent, clapped the seal of his Ring upon his lips. The greatest talkers are commonly the least actors; God having as 'twere put in balance words on one side, and effects on the other, as the leaves and flowers there, and the fruits here.  
The Second said, As the corruption of things is the greater by how much the more excellent they are; so speech being the fairest ornament of Man, the abuse thereof is the most dangerous; and the rather, for that too much speaking is an incurable malady, since it cannot be cured but by the counsel of those that reprehend it, whereof great speakers are incapable, it being their custom not to hear any body. In requital for which they are avoided by all the world. For every Man thinks himself concerned to uphold the truth, and is therefore displeased when he meets one that would arrogate this right to himself, and frustrate all others of the glory which follows that action. But, which is worse, no credit is given to them, although belief is the end of speech. For Man affects nothing so much as to be esteemed true and honest, because the perfection of his being consists in these two points) and therefore he employs his utmost endeavours to make himself believed such; whereas a babbler finding no belief amongst Men, and goodness and truth walking with the same foot, he is accounted to have neither the one nor the other. Indeed great speakers are ordinarily great liars; because words are not true but so far as they are weighed and balanced in the Mind, which being finite cannot know many things at once, but successively and with time, which the talker allows not to himself. And as Truth is in Unity, so is Lying in Multiplicity, but especially in confusion, which is a diversity without order, and is almost inseparable from great discourses, and produces the like in the Minds of the Hearers, and consequently unbeliefs.  
The Third said, A Man should take no greater care then to govern his Tongue, because 'tis a member the easilest moved, and never weary. Hence old men are so much delighted with talking, because they have only this member at their devotion. Which Nature foreseeing, and that Man would have frequent and long use of it, hath given it a strong Ligament, ten Muscles, and three couple of the seven pair of Nerves which are diffused through the rest of the Body. Besides, Man being a sociable Animal, is naturally much inclined to discourse, which is the bond of humane society. 'Tis requisite therefore that Reason, which should govern all Man's inclinations, govern this of speech chiefly, to which the ought not give liberty except when the same may be beneficial to the speaker, or to the hearer, or to some other. Nevertheless, (to speak generally) as action is more noble than Privation, and Motion than Rest; so to speak is a thing more excellent then to hold one's peace.  
The Fourth said, The moderation of speech, called Taciturnity, is a species of Temperance, and hath its two extremes equally vicious; namely, immoderate talking, and dull silence, when one holds his peace, although a just cause obliges him to speak, as the acknowledgement of a truth, or of some benefit; and when our own interest or friends is considerably engaged, or also when an occasion makes some discourse to be expected from us, as in a public assembly, feast, or other place of rejoicing, in which case silence is no less shameful, then too much speaking is every where distateful. This Virtue, which holds the middle, shows where, when, how, how much, we ought to speak and be silent; what things are fit to be spoken, and to what persons. As for things, they must be true, honest, and approved by us within, before they are exposed and laid abroad; the Tongue must follow, and not go before the Mind, whose interpreter it is, as the Hand is the Tongue's Secretary, and for this purpose is laid upon the Heart, out of whose abundance it always speaks, unless dissimulation alter the case. And as the constitution and temper of the Tongue, is taken by Physicians for a certain sign of that of the internal parts; so the words are of the inclinations and habits of the Soul, which has its throne in the Tongue to make itself understood, as in the Eyes to render itself visible. Now the Tongue, being the principal Organ of speech, hereby serves to put a manifest discrimination between Man and brutes; some of which make a sound, as Grasshoppers; others have a voice, as all those that have Lungs, but none have speech. As for other circumstances, we must refrain as much as possible from speaking with fools, of wicked persons notoriously known such, and a little before persons of age and authority, or who understand more than our selus; as also from speaking of a serious matter amongst mirth, or of a ridiculous matter in grave and serious affairs; we must take care to be silent in places destinated only to hear, as in the Church, and in Judiciary Courts. Which injunction lies most upon Women, Children, and Servants. In brief, 'tis one of the greatest points of Prudence to know when 'tis a fit time to speak, and when to be silent.  
The Fifth said, The Reason of Man is that Universal Spirit which is the Soul of the world, giving activity and motion to every thing; 'tis this that turns about the Celestial Spheres, and moves the inferior Elements by an innate principle. It makes itself understood by speech and writing, the nobleness of one whereof above the other seems to determine the question. Now Reason is more in controversy between us and beasts than speech, and speech then writing; for some admit a certain degree of Reason and Judgement in brutes; and many of them, whose Tongues are soft, large, and free, perfectly imitate our speech; but they have nothing that comes near writing, which is solely peculiar to Man. Moreover, by Reason we are only wise to ourselves, by speech we are so to some few others who hear us. But by writing our Wisdom is communicated to all the world, and lasts to eternity. 'Twas by writing with the finger in the dust that our Lord confounded the Jews, without speaking a word; and when he was falsely accused before Pilate, he opened not his mouth to defend himself. Now this writing, free from the troublesomeness of praters, borrows all its force from silence, which is more eloquent than all the talk of Men; but especially in respect of God, whose praise (saith the Psalmist) is silence, and with whom the lifting up of the Heart, and mental prayer, is more prevalent than all the voices and speeches in the world. Such was that of Moses, of whom it was said, in Exod. that he prayed in his Heart; and yet God saith to him, Wherefore criest thou to me in this manner? Such is the silence of true worshippers, who worship in Spirit and Truth. Moreover, the Prophet Jeremy assures us, That 'tis a good thing to wait for the mercy of God in silence. The Angel Gabriel began his combat against the Dragon with silence. And Judith being upon the point to slay Holofernes, made her prayers to God with tears and silence. Besides, 'tis a sign of Humility and Modesty amongst Men.  
The Sixth said, That to judge well of the Question, we must recur to Nature, who having given Man two Ears open, for one Tongue shut up, intimates plainly, that he has more need of hearing and holding his peace, then of speaking. And because the wounds of the Tongue (compared by the Royal Prophet to a sharp razor, and to a consuming fire by the Apostle Saint James) aresometimes more mortal than those of the Sword; she is not contented to put a rain under it, called Froenum Linguae, to stop its intemperance, but hath also surrounded it with strong barriers, the two rows of Teeth, besides those of the Lips. But that which makes very much for silence, is, that Men oftener repent of having spoken, then of having held their peace. And 'tis not said, in the Holy Scripture, that Men shall be blamed for having been silent; but that they shall give account even of the least idle words. Speaking therefore is more graceful, but silence is more safe; speech is the property of Man, but silence of the wise Man.    

CONFERENCE LIV.  
I. Of Touch. II. Of Fortune.  

I. Of the Touch  
WHat the Centre is in the Earth, the Earth amongst the Elements, a Star in Heaven, Sovereignty in a State, Faith in Religion, Natural Motion in Physic, Equity in Law, Reason in Philosophy, the Body in Man, the Sense in a living Creature, that the Touch is in all the other Senses; that is to say, 'tis their foundation, and the condition without which none of them can subsist. For there are Animals which see not, as Moles; which hear not, as the Asp, and most Infects; which have not Smelling, as those who are troubled with rheum; which have no Taste, as most sick persons. But if there be found any which hath not the Sense of Touching, at the same time it ceases to be an Animal, since it is not termed such but inasmuch as it hath a sensitive life, which consists in the knowledge of good and evil, sensible by pleasure and pain, the two symptoms of the Touch, and which alone bear the sway, and turn the balance in all the actions of Man; the scope of all which, is, either to pursue good, or to avoid evil.  
The Second said, That, for this purpose, as sensitive life is diffused throughout the Body; so the Touch, which is inseparable from that life, hath not, as the other Senses, a particular and limited Organ, but is extended into all the parts of the Body. Because, as among the objects of the Senses, only the tangible Qualities give being, and constitute the Animal by their proportion and temperature; so they alone destroy it by their excess and disproportion. So that as only a small part of the Body sees, another hears, another smells, and another tastes; if there had been but one part of the Body that could by touching have discerned the quality of its object, it would have happened, that whilst this part were delighted with one of those objects, the excess of some other might have destroyed all the rest of the Animal, without its perceiving the same; and so it would have perished without knowing, and consequently being able to avoid the same, which is the principal end of the Senses; which, for this reason, represent death to themselves so terrible, to the end that the horror thereof might oblige them to a greater care of their preservation.  
The Third said, That as Man is surpassed in other senses by brutes, so he excels them in Touching, which he hath most exquisite and perfect. He alone, of all creatures, has Hands wherewith to touch, and a smooth soft skin the better to judge of tangible qualities. For being he was made to judge of things, it was requisite that he should be provided of a faithful messenger, as the touch is, to make him a true report thereof. And because he was designed to more sublime actions than brutes, therefore he needed a more perfect temperature; of which the goodness of Touch is a most sure sign. Hence the Physiognomist reckons the subtlety of this sense to a most certain token of that of the Mind; as its contrary, of stupidity; an exquisite Touch denoting the softness and tenderness of the flesh, upon which, consequently, tangible Qualities easily make their impression; and this tenderness denotes the good temper of the Body, which is followed by suitable actions of the Mind. Hence it is that great wits have commonly weak and delicate bodies; but the stupid and dull the most robust and brawny. Therefore as the Touch distinguishes Men from brutes, so it does Men from one another. But the Sight and the other Senses do not so; for, on the contrary, it frequently comes to pass that great spirits have the shortest sight, and the other Senses less exquisite.  
The Fourth said, That the Touch is not only the most necessary in all Animals, since it serves them for a specifical difference; (sensibility, which distinguishes them from Plants, being commonly taken for the faculty of Touching, witness our vulgar phrase, which calls one man more sensible than another, when he is more easily affected by the tactile qualities) but 'tis the sole sense of many Animals, especially, Zoophytes or Plant-animals, such as Sponge, Coral, and all kind of Oysters. The first of which hears not, sees not, smells not, and tastes not its nourishment; but only dilates itself to receive it, and contracts itself to retain it as soon as it feels it near. The second, by the relation of divers, who fetch it from under the water, averts itself by bowing the contrary way as soon as it feels the touch of their instruments. The last have no Organical parts; and if they had, the same would be useless to them, because they are destitute of local motion, and of every other sense, except that of Touching, by which they open and shut themselves. And which Nature has given, as gross as it is, for a supplement to the subtlest sense, to wit, the Sight.  
The Fifth said, That the nobleness of the Touch appears, principally, in that 'tis the most infallible of all the senses; as the most honourable persons are accounted most worthy of credit. Therefore our Lord being to convince S. Thomas, at that time incredulous, caused him to feel his side; and manifest things are called palpable, because the Touch is the last sense that is deceived. Whence they who dream do not frequently find their error, till putting forth their hands to the phantasin they begin to be convinced that it is nothing but air.  
The Sixth said, That as 'tis a common vice to all the Senses to be deceived, so that of Touch is not more exempt from it then the rest; and the less, because it judges of the quality of its objects only by comparison; according to the diversity of which one and the same thing diversely affects it, and is sometimes apprehended one way, sometimes another. A man that comes out of a hot Bath shivers in the same air which he accounted warm before he entered into the water; and when he that learns to dance puts off his leaden soles he thinks his feet lighter than he did before he put them on.  
The Seventh said, The Touch is an external sense, terrestrial and gross; it perceives hot and cold, dry and moist, heavy and light▪ hard and soft, smooth and rough, or unequal, acide, viscous or slippery, thick and thin, tough and friable, or brittle, and other such tactile and earthy qualities. For, as there are five simple Bodies in Nature, namely the Heaven and the Elements, so each of the five external Senses corresponds to one of them; the Sight to Heaven, in regard of its transparence and lucidity; the other four to the Elements; of which the Earth symbolizeth with the Touch▪ because every thing that is felt must have some solidity and consistence, which proceeds from the Earth; otherwise it could not make itself felt by itself, but only by some predominant quality, as we feel not the air when it touches us, unless it be extremely cold or hot. The Organ of Feeling is inward skin which incompasses the whole body of a creature, by reason of its so perfect and equal temperature that it is neither hot nor cold, dry, moist, but equally partakes of all these qualities (a requisite condition in the Organs of the senses which must be unprovided of all the qualities whereof they are to judge.) So the Crystalline humour is without colour, the tongue without sapour, the nostrils without scent, the ears without any sound. And the skin is neither hard like the bones, nor soft like the flesh, but of a temper between both; being therefore called a Nervous flesh, and a fleshy Nerve: which skin, never so little touched, feels perfectly; which would not come to pass if it were not the Organ of the Touch. 'Tis therefore woven of infinite nerves, terminated in it and bringing the animal spirits to it, which are the efficient causes of the Touch as well as of all the other Senses. For what the Philosopher saith, That a sensible object applied upon the Organ is not perceived, must be understood only of the three Senses which are for the convenience of an animal, to wit, the Sight, Hearing and Smelling; not of the other two, which are for its absolute necessity, upon which consideration Nature hath appointed them to judge more nearly, exercising these two Senses by a medium internal and inseparable from the Organ.   

II. Of Fortune.  
Upon the second Point it was said, Fortune is a cause by accident in things which are done for some end, by an Agent that makes use of Reason. So 'tis fortune, when one walking for his health, or divertisement, finds a Purse: but chance, hazard, or adventure is in things which act for some end without election, as brutes, mad people and children, who are not fortunate, or unfortunate, unless in hope. The difficulty of understanding the nature of Fortune ariseth from the infinite abundance of things which may be causes of things which befall men. And as 'tis proper to man to admire what he understands not, upon the observation of the many strange and unforeseen accidents in the world; some say that they come to pass by a fatal destiny necessarily guiding every cause to its effect; others, that they fall out by chance, to which the ancient Philosophers ascribed so much, that Empedocles accounted the situation of the Elements fortuitous; Democritus and Leucippus thought the production of all things was effected by the casual concourse of their atoms flying in the vacuum: insomuch that out of a blind superstition they erected Temples and Altars to Fortune. For indeed there is nothing divine in Fortune; since there is not any cause by itself but may be a cause by accident, and consequently Fortune. Nor is it the Divine Providence, since that which is foreseen cannot be called fortuitous. But we give the appellation of Fortune to any cause, which missing of its proper effect produceth another which it intended not.  
The Second said, 'Twas the ignorance of men that invented Fortune, which hath no other existence but in their imagination. For every thing that is hath a certain cause determined to its effect. But Fortune and Chance are uncertain and indeterminate; therefore not causes. And although the proximate cause of every thing be unknown to us, yet 'tis not the less certain for all that, in respect of God, who ignores nothing. Therefore if there be a fortune in respect of us, 'tis an effect of our ignorance.  
The Third said, We must establish in Nature either Destiny or Fortune. The former seems to fasten man to Ixion's wheel, which permits him not to do any thing of himself, and takes from him the commendation of good, and blame of evil; rendering him by this means guiltless of whatever he does, and laying all upon universal causes (whatever distinction may be made of God's will, in general and particular; it not being conceivable that two contrary wills can at the same time proceed from the same source. The second is more correspondent with the daily events, which produce effects whereof no necessary cause can be found. Indeed, if effects are to be divided according to their causes, 'tis certain that some are necessary and some contingent; whereof the latter being fortuitous cannot be referred to any thing but to Fortune. Yea of the things which come to pass in the world, some always arrive in the same manner, as day and night when the Sun rises and sets; others fall out ordinarily, but not always, as that a child is born with five fingers on a hand, there being some that have six; and others, on the contrary, arrive very rarely, as Monsters. But if this variety of causes and effects hath place in natural things, 'tis found much oftener in humane actions, whose constancy is unconstancy itself; there being not any whose effect is certain. For what man can promise himself that when he labours he shall infallibly become rich, that when he fights he shall have the victory, that when he serves he shall be acceptable, or that when he loves he shall be loved? Whereas, on the contrary, we see many persons enriched without labour, honoured without fight, and acceptable without performance of any services; and (which is more) many times hated by those they love, and loved by those they hate. Of all which we must either assign some cause, or confess that there is no other cause thereof but hap or mishap, which they call Fortune.  
The Fourth said, That Dionysius the younger, the Tyrant of Syracuse, was not of their judgement who disclaim Fortune, assigning the cause of his not being able to preserve the Estates of his Father, That he left him Heir of all, excepting his Fortune. Now the Ancients had Fortune in great reverence, and put her amongst their domestic Gods. And the Emperors religiously kept her Statue of gold, which they sent as a badge of Empire, to those whom they intended to design their successors. Thus Antoninus Pius, being ready to die, sent it to Marcus Antoninus the Philosopher; and Severus sent it to his two sons, Bassianus, and Geta. Moreover, because it visibly bears the chief stroke in gaming, even in those Games to which she gives not the addition of her name, and depend not upon skill; there are found some, at this day, who think they can fix her to some thing which they wear about them while they are at play; others attribute it to a particular situation of their bodies in respect of the Planets. But all agree, that Caesar owed more to his valour then to his fortune; that if she could not make an Orator of a Consul, or the contrary; yet she can make a poor man rich by play; and he must be a great Rhetorician that can persuade those who have good or bad luck, that there is no Fortune.  
The Fifth said, 'Twould be too much presumption in us to accuse all antiquity of ignorance, which observed not only certain persons and places, but some days and hours fortunate and unfortunate, noting the happy days with chalk, and the other with a black stone. Moreover, Philosophers divide goods into those of the Mind, the Body, and Fortune, comprising under the latter, Friends, Lineage, Reputation, Honours and Riches, which are the things men make most account of in this world. And riches are so commonly attributed to her, that they are frequently denoted by the name of Fortune. So that to maintain that there is no such thing, is to go about to overthrow common sense, and to correct Calepin. But her efficiency is chiefly proved by the employments which happen to many, contrary to all appearance, according to the diversity of which every one makes progress, or not, in riches and honours. For he that labours in little things takes most pains, and gets least, and so, on the contrary, which cannot be attributed to any thing else but fortune, no more than the contracts, bargains, and other actions of men, which are made almost always by chance. Whence arose the Proverb, There is nothing but good luck and bad luck in the world. In War, such a great Captain is constantly unfortunate, whereas Timotheus was always the contrary, in whose Nets Cities came to be taken whilst he slept. In Physic, such a Doctor is always accounted lucky, whereas 'twas enough to kill a sick man but to have seen Hermocrates in a dream; not to mention what the Lawyers themselves call the hazard of Judgements.  
The Sixth said, The Ancients did like the Gouty person mentioned by Montagne, who ate Saucidges and Gammons, and drunk of the best, that he might have whom to lay the fault upon. They phancy'd Fortune, that they might have whom to blame for evil events, or rather to blaspheme against the Deity. She is a pure fiction of the Poets, who represented her upon a wheel, one half whereof always ascends, and the other descends; to show the volubility and continual vicissitude of humane things; blind, to signify that good or evil doth not always befall us according to desert, but oftentimes without distinction; sometimes a man, and sometimes a woman, but principally the latter, to denote her inconstancy; all this mysteriously, as all their other fables; to take which literally, were to do worse than the learned Pagan's themselves.  
The Seventh said, Every one is the Artificer of his own fortune, and all the Deities are present where Prudence is, though we rank Fortune among the Gods. Of whom we may say what Hercules said to the bemired Waggoner, who invoked him, but touched not the wheel, Help thyself, and God will help thee; none having ever obtained the title of fortunate, but by great pains, watchings and industries; means, which the vulgar not observing so much as their effect, attribute it to a Deity. Moreover, dextrous men affect the title of lucky, because the vulgar esteems them the more for it; and the great est Statesmen hiding their counsels and the instruments they make use of to accomplish their designs, give occasion to this error. Therefore when Zeno had lost all his wealth by Shipwreck he should not have said, Fortune, thou hast done well to bring me to this short cloak; but rather have accused his own imprudence in having ventured all his estate at sea. For since there is nothing in the world but hath its cause, and fortune is that which is done by no cause, it follows that there is no such thing as fortune.    

CONFERENCE LV.  
I. Of the Taste. II. Whether Poetry be useful.  

I. Of the Taste.  
THe right handling of a subject requiring the knowledge of its differences, an Apicius might seem fitter to discourse of Taste then a Philosopher, in whom too exact a knowledge of Sauces would be accounted unblamable; yet the word of Sapience or Wisdom, among the Latins, taking its name from Sapours, the Sages who profess it may seem obliged too to be expert in this matter. Besides, this Sense supplies Physicians with the surest evidence of the faculties of every medicament by their Sapours; which are second Qualities resulting from the various mixture of the four first, whereof the Taste is an external sense, discerning Sapours by help of the moisture in the mouth, and the Nerve of the third Congjugation, which is expanded upon the tongue, whose flesh is therefore spongy and porous, the more easily to imbibe the same. Thus the object of the Taste is sapour or relish; the Organ is the Nerve; the medium is the flesh of the tongue, the condition without which it is not exercised is the humour, either internal, as that of the mouth (supplied by the Tonsils or Almonds) or external, as the moisture which all bodies have either in act or in power. Whence, they whose tongue is dry cannot taste that which is so; nevertheless, the humidity must be moderate, since its excess no less depraves the taste then its defect.  
The Second said, Since the Organ ought not to be prepossessed with the quality of its object, the Tongue which perceives Sapours which are all moist (called therefore, by the Greeks, Juice) must be destitute of all humidity: for that cannot be received which is possessed already. And as there is in every Organ a principal part which makes the sensation more perfectly than the rest; so the tip of the tongue is more proper to perceive tastes by reason of the Nerves destinated to the sense of tasting, which are found more soft there then its root, and of the liquor which is more retained, and more subtle there, and consequently makes relishes penetrate more effectually. And although some parts of these Nerves are expanded to the palate and gullet, yet the taste is very little perceivable there. Therefore Philoxenus went upon a mistake when he wished for the neck of a Crane; for a long neck conduces nothing either to the advancing or continuing of the taste.  
The Third said, Most Animals have the sense of Tasting, to the end they may distinguish their food from poison, and what food is best, as the sweetest is. For all animals, and particularly man, are nourished only with what is sweet. Whence children, in whom nature being nearer its original is less corrupted, desire sweets so much: and if we mix other Sapours, 'tis either because sweet things glut and disgust sooner, easily filling the Stomach, in which by reason of their unctuous consistence they swim uppermost; or else because the depravation of our temper makes us sometimes desire contrary things to correct it, and sometimes like, to preserve it.  
The Fourth said, Many Animals have no taste nor perception of Sapours, as, amongst others, the Crocodile, which also wants a tongue, the Organ of it; the Ostrich, when it eats Iron; and the Wolf, earth: both which are insipid. Such was that Lazarus, mentioned by Columbus, who swallowed glass, pitch, tallow, and other things, without disgust; and that Maid in the King of Persia's Court, who eat all sort of poisons, how corroding soever, and was nourished therewith. It being observed, in the dissection of their bodies, that the third couple of Nerves, which serve to the Taste, was reflected towards the back part of the head.  
The Fifth said, Sapour is a quality of the aliment; but nourisheth not, because 'tis a mere accident; only by it the animal judges of the qualities of its food. The matter of Sapour is humid; because sapours are easily received and expanded in that which is humid, not in that which is dry. This humidity is not aerious but aqueous; otherwise Sapours might be received in the air; which cannot be, because the nature of this element is too thin and tenuious; but Sapour being gross requires a subject that hath some consistence to receive it. Nevertheless this aqueous humidity alone, is not sapoury, because 'tis a simple body, and consequently insipid. But Sapour proceeds from mixtion. It must therefore be joined with somewhat that is dry, not with igneous siccity, because this makes the mixtum subtle, and apt to exhale, as odour ought to be, not sapour; but with that of the earth, which gives a body and consistence to sapours, without which they could not be tasted. And 'tis by means of this siccity with the humidity, that Mineral waters acquire the sapours of the places through which they pass, and that the liquor of a Lie or Lixivium becomes salt, by mixtion of the more dry and adust parts of the ashes. But because these dry and humid substances difficultly mix, the particles of the one being unapt to touch the particles of the other, because both are gross and terrestrial, therefore there needs some superior agent, more powerful then either, to open and penetrate them, such as heat is, which by its various coction makes a different mixtion of the dry and the moist, whence arise different sapours; as may be observed in our meats and fruits of Trees, which differ in taste according to the degrees of heat. The sweet and fat taste is for the most part produced by a temperate heat; the bitter, salt and acrimonious, by immoderate heat; the acide or sharp, the austere or harsh, and the sour, by cold. The Sweet, such as that of Honey, comes from a perfect mixture of terrestrious with aqueous humidity. The Bitter, as that of Gall, from abundance of gross siccity mixed with little humidity. The Fat, as Oil and Fat are produced by excess of humidity. The Salt hath more humidity than the bitter. The Acrimonious or biting, as Pepper, hath much of tenuity, and very little of humidity. The Sour, as that of unripe fruits, comes from siccity and humidity equally indigested. The Austere or pontic, as the juice of Oranges, and the Acide or Sharp, as that of Vinegar, proceed from very much humidity and little siccity.   

II. Whether Poetry be useful.  
Upon the second Point it was said, This division of things into necessary, profitable and delightful, is observed particularly in speech, the soul's interpreter. For at the beginning Languages were only for necessity, void of all artifice, being employed to no other use but to make us understand one another; which sort of Language the first Philosophers employed to express the essence and nature of things. Afterwards History and Oratory enriched it with the addition of flowers and flourishes. And, Lastly, Poetry added to those Words Number and Cadence, not barely to teach and instruct, as the other liberal Sciences, but withal to recreate and delight; which is an excellent method to prevent the disgust which the disciplines bring even in their rudiments. I therefore compare our Language, considered in its original, to Gold yet in the Oar, mingled with earth; the same Language polished by Rhetoric to an Ingot refined from its dross; but Poetry to a goodly vessel of gold, not less rich for the workmanship then for the matter.  
The Second said, That which gave birth to Poetry and makes it so much esteemed, is the desire of imitation, proper to man alone; as he alone that understands the similitudes, correspondencies and proportions of things. Hence it is that we admire the Picture of a Serpent, a dead body, and other things whose original we have in horror; and we are ravished to hear the voice of a Swine naturally counterfeited, though we hate it in that animal. So Poetry and Painture imitate, and in some manner do every thing that is done in nature; whence Poetry is termed a speaking Picture, and Picture dumb Poetry. For a Poet does not signify merely a Versifier, and one that relates things done, which is the property of a Historian: but as an Actor or Player by his postures does the very things, so the Poet must both describe things and make them. And the word Poet does not signify one that feigns, but one that makes. When he speaks of a tempest he makes the Wind's mutiny, Ships split, mountains of water clash and lose themselves in gulfs; when of War, he makes you hear the clashing of Arms, the thundering of Cannons, and see the field strowed with Carcases: and so in all other subjects which he treats. Wherefore, to be a good Poet, one must know every thing in perfection; which makes Poetry so difficult, and consequently so rare and admirable that few succeed well in it. For there are many Versifiers, but few Poets.  
The Third said, There need no other Judges to condemn Poetry then Poets themselves, who call their highest conceits Fury, that is to say, Folly; whether it arrive to them from their fabulous gods, or more truly from the fumes of Wine, which cause them to make the best Verses, as they tell of Ennius: the frequentation of which is one of the greatest crimes that Cato imputed to Marcus Nobilior in the survey that he made of his Province: and 'tis observed that there is so great affinity between Poetry and Folly, that the best Poets have very odd actions and postures while they are making their works, and retain something thereof in their ordinary carriage.  
The Fourth said, Variety of Wit has not appeared in any Science more than in Poetry. For it has not only different laws according to the diversity of Nations, which makes it doubted what sort of Verses those of Job are, considering that they have no resemblance with the Greek and Latin, no more than these have with ours. But neither were ours (which consist of certain numbers of feet, and consonances or rhythms) such as those in Caesar's time, in which he reports that the Gauls versified; and within a thousand years that our rhythm began in imitation of the Prose of the Church, French Poetry hath been so often diversified, that the Poets of one age would not be so in another. And yet, sometimes under the name of Rithmers, sometimes under that of Devisers and Poets, they have been always very acceptable to great persons. And Charle magne preferred the Poems containing the exploits of his Predecessors before their Histories.  
The Fifth said, That Plato and sundry other Politicians accounted Poety not only so useless, but so hurtful to their Commonwealth, that they utterly banished it from thence, because Poets by their shameful relations of the vices of the gods enticed men to commit the like, conceiving they did not offend when they had the example of a god; and for that Verses are more proper for loose loves then the Sciences, of which the confinements of Poetry are not capable; besides that the enthusiasm of Poets cannot consist with the gravity of Philosophy; seldom with the probity of manners, and never with a settled judgement; the Italian Proverb being almost always found true, Di buona terra cattiva Gente, Di buon Poeta cattiva ment. Whence Aristophanes saith that when Bacchus desired to find Euripedes or some other good Poet, he went down to Hell, because he could not any in Heaven. Moreover, their too great liberty of Satyrical detraction, made them sometimes be driven out of Rome. Their dangerous doctrine has caused the reading of them to be forbidden to Christians by the Canons; and rendered them so infamous, that Philip, the first Christian Emperor, in the third Law, at the title of Professors and Physicians in the Cade, grants no immunity to them as he doth to all others. Indeed one may get his living in all professions with honour, except in Poetry; and if it always less fills the Poet's Purses with Crowns then their heads with presumption; so (as it happens in all other Conceits, or Pastimes) it may be found sometimes proper for the divertisement of those few that have leisure to read them, but 'tis most unprofitable to the Authors; for few or none are advanced by it, but rather many have been hindered by this art of versifying from making their fortune otherwise. Yea their profession is so vile and abject, that whereas others count it an honour to be styled Physicians, Advocates, or the like, these are offended with the name of Poet. And that with good reason, considering that of all other Arts Poetry alone glories in disguising the truth. For which cause it begins to be banished even from Theatres, to which alone it was destinated; and Prose is come in request in sundry places, being preferred for gracefulness and naturalness; by which means this Art is in danger to be confined to the corners of streets, to serve only for Songs and Ballad●. Hence it was that Ovid was so severely punished by his father, to make him leave off this Art, which proved so unlucky to him, that for writing his Book of the Art of Loving, he became of a rich Roman Knight a miserable exile amongst Barbarians.  
The Sixth said, 'Tis to be a sworn enemy of excellent things, or rather, as Scaliger saith, to renounce being man, to think of banishing Poetry out of States; which is slighted only by the ignorant, and hated by those that have irregular minds. For melody is natural, not only to man, but to all things in the world which God hath created in number and measure. Which made the Pythagoreans say, that not only the Celestial Bodies make a most agreeable consort, but also the Plants by their proportions, and the beasts by their motions chant measured Odes in praise of their Creator. Therefore with more reason must man, whose soul is a number moving of itself, be delighted with numerous language, which is Poetry, the most sensible effect of that divine Harmony which is infused into his body. And we may make the same judgement of good from vulgar wits by their delight or disaffection to Poetry as by the recreation which they take in Music. Indeed, if a wise man ought to be regular in all his actions, why not in his words, the image of his Reason, as Reason is of his soul. As if you should say that the well regulated dance of a Ball ought to be less prized than the ordinary walk or a Country dance. Moreover, Poetry hath such power over men's minds, Tyrtaeus animated his Soldiers to fight by the rehearsal of his Verses, which was also the custom of the Germans when they were to charge their enemies; Moses, David, and many other Prophets, accounted nothing more worthy than Poetry, to sing the praises of God. And the first Poets, as Musaeus, Orpheus and Linus, were the Divines of Paganism. Yea the gods of antiquity affected to deliver their Oracles in Verse; and so did Legislators their Laws, to render them more venerable. Besides, they greatly help the memory; their cadence or measure serving as a rule to the mind to keep it from being at a loss. Poetry alone, amongst all the Arts, supplies praise to virtue; the rampant stile of Rhetorical discourse, though it borrow its fairest flowers and square periods from Poetry, being not comparable to that of Poetry, which is far more sublime, and consequently, more fit to immortalize the memory of Heroic actions. Upon which account the Muses were believed the Daughters of Mnemosyne or Memory. Now if Poets have been sometimes expelled out of States, so have Philosophers, Physicians, Mathematicians, and many other Professors of Arts, acknowledged nevertheless very useful to humane society. If some of them have been lascivious, others impious, others slanderous, these are the vices of the Poets, not of Poetry. And as the more delicate any Wine is, the more hurtful its excess is to the body; so Poetry is so much the more excellent, by how much its abuse is noxious. Plato, who advised the banishing of it out of his imaginary Commonwealth, calling it a sweet poison, deserved, more than it, to be really interdicted, there not being in all the Poets such fables, impieties and impurities as that of his Convivium, his Phaedrus, and some other pieces. In the mean time he is forced to admire them, to call them the sons and interpreters of the gods, yea divine, and the fathers of wisdom. For their raptures cannot be called folly, unless in that sense that Aristotle saith, To Philo sophize well a man must be besides himself. But their wisdom being extreme, and their motions unknown to the vulgar; therefore they call that fury which they ought to call the highest point and pitch of Wisdom; termed Enthusiasm or Divine Inspiration, because it surpasses the reach of man. And indeed every one acknowledges in Poetry some character of Divinity, and therefore 'tis received by all the world, and serves for a guide and introducer to great personages, who otherwise would not give audience, but like that well in Verse which they would blame in Prose. Which obliged Sylla to reward the good that they might be encouraged to continue their divine works; and the bad Poets, on condition that they made no more. And 'tis of these, as of some Rithmers of our time, that they speak who blame Poetry; in whose reproaches the true Poets are no more concerned then Physicians in the infamy of Mountebanks. The Fables of the ancient Poets are full of mysteries, and serve for ornament to the Sciences and to Divinity itself, as the gold of the Egyptians did to the Sanctuary. But if they have in all ages complained of not advancing their fortune, this doth not argue any demerit of theirs, but rather the want either of judgement or gratitude in others.    

CONFERENCE LVI.  
I. Of the Smelling. II. Of Eloquence.  

I. Of the Smelling.  
THis Sense, which is the perception of Odours intromitted by the Nose through the spongy bone into the Mammillary processes which are appendices of the Brain rather than Nerves, shows by the structure of its Organ that it is more particular to the Brain than any other. For the Nerves which carry the Spirits for the performance of the other Senses are communicated elsewhere too; some of them to all the rest of the Body. Only these two nervous appendices of the Brain have nothing to do with any other part. It makes use of odours as a perfume, sometimes to redress its native coldness, as when it is pleased with Pomanders, Musk, L'eau d'ange (a sort of delicate compound water) Orange flower-water, and other Aromatical things; sometimes to cool its spirits overheated by continual action, as by the Violet, the Rose, or Jasmin; but always for their refreshment. For the Spirits being of an aerial nature, nothing recreates them so much as what resembles them, to wit, the Air, especially when it is tinctured with some friendly quality. Hence arise those different fancies upon occasion of smells. One swoons at the smell of Musk and the Rose, which others love so much. Another loves the scent of Rue and Wormwood, so abominated by others, that some women have miscarried by it. And indeed of all the wonders resulting from the consideration of odours, there is none greater than the relation they have to the womb, which is known to move itself to, and approach towards, and fly away at the motion of good or bad smells; which work upon this part by means of the animal spirits (called, for this reason, Impellers by the Greeks) which the odours powerfully move, and they all the other parts; but especially the womb which hath a particular sympathy with the Brain, the Conservatory of the Spirits; or else because the contraction of the Nerves, which is caused when an odour displeased drives the Spirits downwards, who by their impetuosity hurry along with them the more fluid and movable parts, as the Matrix is, when a pituitous humour has slackened its ligaments: as, on the contrary, the spirits being dilated to receive the steam of an odour grateful to the Brain with a full torrent, they attract it upwards by the same reason.  
The Second said, Because Faculties cannot be understood but by the correspondenc they have to their objects; therefore to understand the Nature of the Sense of Smelling, 'tis first requisite to understand the Nature of Odour, and by what Medium it is carried to its Organ. Odour is a patible Quality, arising from the temperament of siccity predominant above humidity; for though many drugs, waters, essences, and liquors, in which humidity is necessarily found, and siccity seldom, are very odoriferous, yet they borrow their smell from the dry exhalation mingled with their humid Body; from which if the same be separated, the humour remains inodorous. Nevertheless this exhalation is not the Odour but the subject and vehicle of it; otherwise an Odour should be a Substance, and not an Accident, as it is. 'Tis conveyed to its Organ sometimes by species called Intentional, when it is remote from the same; or the Medium is so disposed that it cannot alter its Substance; thus the species of the Odour of a Worm hanging upon the hook so tightly penetrates the water, that the fish though very remote instantly repairs to it; and many Animals scent powder at two or three leagues distance. But when the Odour is present to the Organ of Smelling, it hath no need of species, with which the Senses have nothing to do but so far as they serve to supply the absence of their Objects. The Nose receives Odours by its two passages, and for this reason it hath somewhat a long shape; a substance partly boney for firmness sake; lest closing together the passage should be stopped, but cartilaginous in the lower part; for the more easy dilatation in breathing, smelling, and purging the Brain, the three prime uses of the Nose. The true seat of Smelling are two small sponges made of the anterior part of the Brain, passing through the Cuneal Bone near the cavity of the Eyes, called the Mammillary Processes or Productions; spirituous and vaporous, the better to receive Odours; and nervous, to distinguish them; lying upon the Cribrous or spongy bone which is full of small bones, lest the Brain might be hurt by smells if they were carried directly and impetuously to it; which danger is avoided by their being disunited and allayed by this transcolation; and these two Caruncles, like the nibbles of women's breasts, have alone, among all the parts of the Nose, a proper figure, a certain sign for distinguishing the Organs of the Senses. For the Brain cannot do this office, because its extreme humidity would diminish the virtue of Odours.  
The Third said, As the Nose, the instrument of Smelling, is placed in the middle of all the rest; so this Sense is of a middle nature between them. For 'tis more material than the Hearing and the sight, but more subtle than the Touch and Taste; although it hath a great affinity with this latter, by which it perceives its object, namely, Odours, which are distinguished by help of Sapours, and are divided according to their number, agreeable and disagreeable being only its general differences. For there are as many particular differences as several subjects. Moreover, Sapour and Odour are composed of the same matter, and produced by the same heat; they are both qualities of food, whose good and evil faculties are discerned by smell as well as by taste. Yet they differ in this, that some Odours are not of food but of delight, as that of Roses; with which kind of Odour Man alone is pleased, amongst all Animals, who are not delighted with Odours further than they signify to them the goodness of their food; that which is said of the Panther, that all other Animals run after its smell, being accounted fabulous. They have also this peculiar, that Odours come from an igneous and subtle siccity predominant over humidity; whereas Sapours reside in humidity. Hence it is that flowers have more smell than leaves, because they are made of the more tenuious parts of the Plant; among Flowers, those that grow amidst bushes, and in other dry places, are more odoriferous; and Roses smell sweeter about Noon when they are dried by the heat of the Sun, then in the Morning when they are bedewed with the humidity of the Night.  
The Fourth said, Most Animals have a bad Odour, and Man the most imperfect Smelling; partly, because Nature hath thought fit to give this Sense in a more exquisite degree to Animals that live by prey, as to the Dog and Vulture, (and Man was to hunt otherwise then by the Nose) and, partly, by reason of the situation of the Mammillary processes near the Brain, more cold, and moist, and large, in Man then in any other creature. Whence it is, that Men know not the differences of Odours as they do those of the other objects of the Senses. Yet as there are Animals which are driven away by certain bad smells, Flies by that of Brimstone, Serpents by that of Galbanum, and generally all by the steam of the carcases of their own kind; so some Odours not only drive away Men, as the fume of an Indian pepper, but are accounted mortal, not by reason of the smell, but of the hurtful Body which it introduces into the Ventricles of the Brain. As, on the contrary, there are Odours which recreate so much that they are thought to nourish; for they who are conversant among the smells of meat eat less; and the sole Odour of new Wine inebriates.  
The Fifth said, Odour is a fumous exhalation excited by heat either internal or external. Therefore Gold is inodorous, its perfect mixtion hindering it from exhaling; and things chafed or heated have a stronger smell, because the heat draws outwards those subtle parts which cold encloses and keeps from exexpanding themselves; and odoriferous are diminished in time through the evaporation of their more subtle parts. So Wine, unless well stopped, loses with its Odour its virtue and goodness, as if its strength consisted in its smell; and Camphire exhales utterly if it be not kept close. And Perfumes have a more agreeable smell a far off then near hand, because the subtler parts are scented at distance, and the grosser hard by.   

II. Of Eloquence  
Upon the Second Point, the First said, That if we cannot evince the Excellence of Eloquence above all other Humane Actions, we must confess that we have no Eloquence; for this is the golden chain which our ancient Gauls fastened to the Tongue of their Hercules, and made him draw all his Auditors by the Ears. Moreover, since 'tis the way to persuade, and persuasion is the way to do any thing whatever, there is no power that can equal it. Which to prove by Examples would require the transcription of all Histories. It hath disarmed Anger and Justice too a hundred times, obtained the Generalship to Demosthenes, notwithstanding his Cowardice and inexperience in the matter of War; the Consulship to Cicero, bend Caesar's heart for him, which the forces of the Roman Empire could not bend, when he so ravished him as to make him let the book fall which he held in his hands; so well can this Art of well speaking master Bodies as well as Souls. Therefore Conquerors authorise their Cannon shots with reasons, and employ so many Orators to justify their exploits, and make their government acceptable; and the Romans, though they became masters of all the world, never drew a sword out of the scabbard till they had first charged the fault by their manifestoes upon those whom they declared their Enemies. Which seems to be the only difference between regular wars and pirates at Sea, or robbers on land. 'Tis hence also that the greatest concussions of States, and revolutions of Monarchies, have proceeded from Religion, which hath also laid the foundation of some, bringing the Body into subjection by persuading the Soul; (whereas, when open force subdues the former, it loses the affection of the latter;) nor matters it whether the Religion be true or false, provided the people be persuaded of it. For being none are constrained to believe, as Theodosius the Emperor said, if the inward part be not won, people pay nothing but countenances, like bad servants; and Man is so governed by fancy that good seems bad to him if it please him not, and bad good when he affects it. Indeed, all actions that a Man exercises by constraint are of the Animal, but those which he doth voluntarily are of the Man, distinguished for this cause from beasts by Intellect and Will; the former of which serving for a foundation to the latter, this Will is governed by Reasons, as a Horse by a bridle. This is the true Magic, of which so many Impostors falsely boast, whose admirable effects appear in all conditions, sexes, and ages. Is any thing dearer to an old man then his Crowns? Yet discourse entraps them, some under one pretext, some under another; and which is most strange, such a one shall bereave him of his wealth, whilst he makes show of increasing them. Is there any thing more precious to a Woman then her Honour? yet insinuation oftentimes prevails upon her; we love nothing more than life, and yet a well animated Oration will make people expose it to apparent danger. In brief, there is no kind of profession and mystery, but owes what it hath most profitable to Eloquence. Preachers and Advocates lay the main stress upon it. Physicians, who seem to have less need of it, acknowledge its usefulness in their counsels, which were of small credit and authority without it. It is wholly necessary to Merchants for their selling. Upon which score, possibly, Mercury was made the Patron of Negotiators. For persuasion, which is the end of it, needs not always an Oration complete in all its members; the greatest pitch of an Orator is to contract himself according to time, place, and persons. A General of an Army animates his Soldiers more with three words, as he is going to charge the Enemy, than a Preacher doth his Auditors in a whole Lent. Even Gestures are sometimes eloquent, so the Courtesan Phryne carried her lawsuit by discovering her fair bosom; as also did a Captain by showing his scars, to their Judges who intended to condemn them. Whereby it appears how great the power and extent of Eloquence is.  
The Second said, Since some were so hardy, the last Conference, as by speaking ill of Poets to disparage the language of the gods, let us examine that of men; that Pallas may not complain of the same treatment that was showed to the Muses. For not to strike the same string twice, the lasciviousness imputed to them seems more justly to belong to Orators and Poets; since Meroury (the god of thiefs as well as of Eloquence) and not Apollo, was the messenger of the amours of the gods. Now 'tis hard for the Disciples not to retain some thing of their Master. Moreover, Socrates and Plato define Eloquence, the art of deceiving or flattering; and this latter banishes Orators out of the excellent Commonwealth which he took so much pains to contrive. But other real States have done them more evil, driving them effectively out of their territories, rightly judging, with Aeschylus, that nothing is more pernicious and prejudicial than an affected language embellished with the graces of Eloquence; which the more florid it is, the more poison it hides under its flowers, which have nothing but appearance. Therefore the Romans, the wisest Politicians in the world, drove them so often out of their Commonwealth; as during the Consulship of Fannius Strabo, and Valerius Messala, when Cneus Domitius, and Q. Licinius were Censors; and under the Emperor Domitian. And 'tis one of the surest foundations of the Turkish Empire, and by which they have found most advantage; their forbidding the having, by this means, instead of an Army of talkers, good for nothing but to multiply noises and divisions, by disguising the Truth, innumerable stout fellows of their hands, who have learned no other lesson but Obedience: By which, from a small beginning they have subdued a great part of the world, particularly Greece, which always made profession of this talkativeness. Yea, in Athens itself, the cradle of Eloquence, the Orators were forbidden the Court, the Palace, and other public Assemblies, because they perverted Right; and Timagoras was there condemned to death for having made Compliments to Darius, according to the mode of the Persians. The ancient Republic of Crete, and that of Lacedaemon, (the School of Virtue) were not unmindful to provide against these Sophisters; the latter opposing their design by the brevity of its Laconic stile; and having banished Ctesiphon, for boasting that he could discourse a whole day upon what ever subject were propounded to him. What then would it have done to Demosthenes, who commonly bragged that he could turn the balance of Justice on which side he pleased? Is not Eloquence therefore more to be feared then the music of the Sirens, or the potions of the enchantress Circe, being able to involve innocence in punishment, and procure rewards to crimes? Moreover, 'tis a Woman's Virtue to talk. And therefore Caesar disdained this present which Nature had given him; and few people value it but such as have nothing else to recommend them. Volaterranus observed few persons both virtuous and eloquent; nor do we find famous Orators in Macedon, which gave birth to Alexander, and so many other great Captains. 'Twas with this Eloquence that Demosthenes incensed Philip against his own City of Athens; that Cicero animated Marcus Antonius against that of Rome; that of Cato was one of the causes that incited Caesar against the liberty of his Country; and yet Cato hated this art of Oratory so much, that he once caused audience to be denied to Carneades and his companions, Critelaus and Diogenes, Ambassadors from Athens to Rome, upon no other reason, but because they were too Eloquent. And, not to speak of the vanity of Orators, a vice more incident to them then to Poets, (witness the boastings of Cicero) their art is altogether unprofitable; since it serves only to paint and deck the truth, which hath no need of ornaments, and aught to be plain, pure, simple, and without artifice. In a word, to represent truth adorned with flowers of Rhetoric, is to lay Fucus upon a fair Complexion, to paint Gillyflowers and Anemonies, and to perfume Roses and Violets. But what may it not falsify, since it disguises itself, covering its figures with the hard words of Metonymy, Synecdoche, and other barbarismes, to make them admired by the ignorant.  
The Third said, That there being nothinb but is liable to be abused, both they speak true who commend Eloquence, and they who decry it. When this faculty of speaking well undertakes to make great things little, and the contrary, it frustrates their wish who would have things themselves speak. Nor is there any lover of eloquent discourses but prefers before elegant speaking the plainness of a good counsel, when some serious matter is in debate, either touching health, business, or the good of the Soul. And therefore I conclude, that Eloquence is indeed more graceful, but simplicity and plainness more excellent and desirable.    

CONFERENCE LVII.  
I. Of the Hearing. II. Of Harmony.  

I. Of the Hearing.  
THe Hearing is the Sense of Disciplines, the inlet of Faith, which the Apostle saith, comes by Hearing, the judge of sounds and their differences; the cognition whereof is the more difficult, for that they are the least material qualities of all; considering that they are neither the First, as the Tangible; nor the Second, as Colours, Odours, and Sapours, depending upon the various mixture of the first; but of another kind of qualities which have scarce any thing of the grossness of matter. The little corporeity they have not proceeding from that, but from the Air which enters with it into the Eear. Nevertheless sound is not wholly spiritual, for it presupposes in the bodies collided together, hardness, smoothness, and such other second qualities, without which the collision of two bodies is not audible. But the chief cause of the difficult cognition of sounds, is, that they are produced of nothing, namely, of Local Motion, which (by the testimony of the Philosophers) is a pure Nothing, Motion being rather a way to being, than a true being. Not that Motion produces something that is real of itself, since Nothing cannot produce any thing, but only by accident and by another. So by friction attenuating the parts it generates heat, and by the meeting of two bodies it makes sound, which lasts as long as its cause, and ceases when this fails; contrary to other qualities, which have a fixed and permanent existence in Nature. For the tingling of a bell which continues some while after the stroke, is not one single sound, but many; the parts of the bell being put into a trembling motion by the blow, and communicating the same to the parts of the Air contained in the cavity of the bell, which Air is so long clashed together till all the insensible parts of the bell be returned to their first rest; and therefore the laying of the hand upon it hinders this motion, and consequently stops the sound. And 'tis for this reason that it resounds more when it hangs freely, then when it is held in the hand; and some bells have been seen to fly in pieces upon the application of a piece of Iron to them whilst they were trembling. The cause whereof is this; if while all the parts of the bell tremble, and equally move from their place, one part be checked, it becomes immovable, and so not following the agitation of the rest is separated from them.  
The Second said, Though sound, (the object of the Hearing, containing under it Voice and Speech) is oftentimes accompanied with three things, the body striking, the body struck, and the Medium resounding; yet these three do not always meet in all sort of sounds, as we see in that which is made by our bellows, the noise of a Petar, Salt, Chestnuts, and other aerious and flatuous bodies cast into the fire; because these flatuosities being rarified require an outlet, and therefore impetuously break forth out of their restraint; which eruption striking the neighbouring Air produces a sound. The same is seen also in the Voice, which is formed by collision of the Air in the Lungs against the Larynx, the palate and the teeth. So that the proximate cause of sound is not the shock of two bodies, but the breaking of the Air when its motion is hindered. A piece of cloth makes a noise in the tearing, (but not in the cutting,) because of the sudden separation of the parts of the Air; which on the other side, for fear of Vacuum, are impetuously carried towards the place of their separation; and the wind whistles, by reason of the violent motion which it causeth in the Air; sometimes driving the same before it, sometimes pressing and wracking it; or because it meets some other wind or body that opposes its natural motion.  
The Third said, A perfect sound cannot be made without the encountering of two bodies, and Air between them; for want of which, there would be local motion, but no sound in a Vacuum, and the motion of those great celestial orbs is not audible. Now these bodies must be hard and solid, either of their own Nature, as Copper and Silver, or by the union and construction of their parts, which makes them act and resist as if they were solid; such are the Air and Water agitated. Moreover, that this sound be perfect, 'tis requisite that the bodies be large and smooth; for if they be rough and scabrous, the Air which is compressed finds means to expand itself in the interstices of the higher parts; if they be acute and pointed, they cut and divide, but do not break it. So a needle striking the point of another needle makes no noise, because it only cuts the Air, but does not compress it. If these solid bodies be hollow and dry, the sound is made the better; and yet more, if they be aerious. Hence, among metals, Brass, Silver, and Gold, resound more than Led and Iron, which are of a terrene nature. Among Trees, the Sallow and the Figtree have a sound; and the leaves of Laurel crackle in the fire, by reason of their aerious parts. Lastly, the bodies must be friable, that is to say, divisible at the same time into very small particles, as Air, Glass, and Ice; or in case they break not, at least they must tremble in all their parts, as bells do. Therefore Water, not being friable, by reason of its tenacious humidity which keeps the particles together, cannot be the subject of sounds; that of running Water being made by the occurse of the Air upon its surface, not in the Water itself, in which no sound can be made although it may be somewhat confusedly transmitted; as 'tis to fishes, whom the noise makes to abandon the shore.  
The Fourth said, Hearing was given to Man, to satisfy his natural inclination to understand the thoughts of his species by the utterance of words, which would be useless to conversation, if they were not received by this faculty; whose dignity appears chiefly in the structure of its Organ, the Ear, both external and internal, which is destinated to the reception of sounds. Therefore the Philosopher derides Alcmaeon for saying that Goats respire at the ears. The external is Cartilaginous and tortuous, unmoveable in man alone, always open, on each side the head, to receive sounds from all parts, which are carried upwards in an orbicular figure. The internal situate in the (os petrosum, or) bone of the Temples, hath four passages, viz. the auditory meatus closed with a membrane called the Drum, behind which is a cord fastened to the stirrup, the anvil and hammer, small bones as dry and big in children as in old men. 2. That which encloseth the natural and immovable Air, the principal Organ of hearing. 3. The Labyrinth. 4. The Cochle or Shellwork. But the passage which goes from the Ear to the Palate and the orifice of the Windpipe is most remarkable; by which the inspired air doth not only refresh the Lungs, but also the natural implanted air in the ear. Hence ariseth that sympathy of the Palate and the Ears; and to hear well, we sometimes hold our breath, for fear of disordering the species of sounds; and those that gape or yawn, hear little or not at all; because the vaporous spirit which causeth oscitation so puts up the drum of the ear, that it cannot well receive sounds; and for the same reason they that yawn dare not pick their ears at that time for fear of hurting the inflated Drum; which if it come to be touched, the yawning ceaseth; those that scratch their ears put themselves into a hawking or coughing. And lastly, 'tis for this reason, that such as are born deaf are also dumb, because of the strait connexion of the auditory Nerve, being of the fifth conjugation, with the seventh, which is at the root of the Tongue.  
The Fifth said, Sounds are carried to the ear in the same manner as they are produced; namely, by a fraction of the air adjoining, which hath a sphere of activity, and is like that which is caused in the water by casting a stone into it; but without any intentional species: Otherwise sounds would be heard at the same time, and in the same manner, by those that are near, and those that are far off; in regard the intentional species being spiritual is carried in an instant, being caused by a simple alteration which requireth not the time necessary to local motion whereby Hearing is performed, and by this means distinguished from vision; in which at the same time the medium and the Organ are both altered; whereas, in Hearing, the Organ is not altered till after the medium. Hence it is, that the wind helps greatly to the carrying of sounds; which would not be, if they were only intentional species; for visible things are seen as well in a contrary wind as in a calm air; and that sounds seem weaker a far off then near hand.  
The Sixth said, Among the objects of the Senses sounds and odours have alone had the honour to be dedicated to the Deity: Melody and Incense having always been employed in Divine Service; either because the humane soul is most delighted therewith; or for that either of them being somewise spiritual and corporeal, God requires that we offer him both the body and the spirit; whereas Daemons abhor nothing more than Harmony and Perfumes, as ill suiting to their irregular and infected nature. And sounds have so great affinity with the soul, that according to their cadence and their tones, they excite compassion, cruelty, joy, sadness, courage, fear, lasciviousness and chastity; whence it was said that Aegysthus could never debauch Clytaemnestra till he had killed her Musician. Because all our actions and inclinations depending upon our spirits, they are modefied and made like to the sounds which they receive by the ear. So that if the sounds be tremulous, grave, sharp, quick or flow, the spirits become so too; and consequently the Muscles, which are instruments of voluntary motion, having no action but by means of the spirits, they impress upon them, and make them follow such cadence as they like. Hence it is, that hearing others sing, we fall a singing too without thinking of it; with those that whisper, we whisper too; with those that speak loud, we speak so also: that the air of the Musician stirs our members to conform to it, and that our spirits are displeased with bad cadences; as if the outward air had an absolute dominion over our spirits.   

II. Of Harmony.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That Harmony is taken for any proportion and agreement, but chiefly for that of sounds, in which it is more perceptible; and that even by the ignorant. It's invention is ascribed to Tubal the first Smith, upon his observation of the various sounds that the strokes of his Hammer made upon his Anvil; which Pythagoras also made use of to find out the proportion of his musical numbers. Of which having elsewhere spoken, I shall only add here, that Harmony presupposes many sounds, for one alone makes but a Monotone, and two an unpleasing reciprocation: but six notes are requisite to perfect Music, industriously comprised in the Hymn, VT queant LAxis REsonare fibris MIra gestorum, etc. This harmony is either vocal or instrumental; the former whereof having graces and variations inimitable by instruments far surpasses the latter, but their mixture is most agreeable.  
The Second said, Nature seems to have made a show of her goodliest effects to our Senses, and concealed their causes from our knowledge. Musical harmony aims at the instruction of men; that of man's body is the admirable artifice of the Formative faculty, which Galen calls divine; but the harmony of the world puts our curiosity most to a nonplus. 'Tis the cause why water, notwithstanding its fluidity, gathers itself into a heap, to leave dry land for the habitation of animals; and that the earth, which should settle about its centre, by its equal gravity, yet rises up in mountains. The air is altered by all sort of qualities, that it may give a good one to the earth. The fire descends from its sphere to be captivated in Furnaces for our use, and is imprisoned in cavities of the earth to promote the generation of Metals. The Heavens move for the benefit of inferior bodies, in a place where they might enjoy eternal rest. 'Tis through this harmony that the water becomes thick at the bottom, and contracts alliance with the earth, while its surface resolves into vapours; the rudiments of air, whose highest region likewise approaches the nature of fire; and this has somewhat of Aethereal, and the constitution of the Heavens on which it borders and conjoins with this inferior world. The cause of this chain and connexion is an universal virtue comprehended in the extent of each being, besides the proper motive virtue destinated to content its appetite. The necessity of this virtue is a certain evidence of its existence; for since every thing conspires for the general good of the world, and withstands the division of its parts, Nature must have allotted them a power which may guide them to that end; now this power is not extrinsical, since it resides in the subject itself. Nor is it the motive virtue; for this and that have two different objects and ends, namely, the public, and the particular good, which are not always contained one in the other. Besides, 'twould be a manifest contradiction, to say that by one and the same virtue things expose themselves to the loss of their proper qualities for the public good, and keep them when only their particular is concerned. Wherefore there is one general law, which having authority to force all things to contract amities not sorting to their inclination, is above that virtue, which leads things directly to their own good: which is the cause of the excellent harmony observed in the whole world.  
The Third said, Indeed Harmony is every where between the Creator and his Creatures both spiritual and corporeal; in the Hierarchies of blessed Spirits one with another, in the assistance of the motive Intelligences with their orbs; between the great and the little world; in the latter of which the Scripture sets forth to us a perpetual music of the blessed in the the Empireal Heaven; Plato, a harmony proceeding from the motion of the Celestial bodies. Daily experience makes us hear in the air a consort of winds; the Sea beats a measure by its ebbing and flowing; the Birds of the air perform the Cantus; the Beasts, the Base; the Fishes, the Tacet; Man, the Tenor; who again in the structure of his body and soul is a perfect harmony. In the body, the temperature of the humours is so harmonical, that their disproportion drives away the soul, which Galen upon this account calls harmony. In the soul, so long as Reason holds the sovereignty, and constrains the murmuring Appetite to hold its base, there results from it a harmony delectable to God and Men. On the contrary, if you would apprehend its discord, do but imagine the disorderly uproar excited by choler, and the other passions get the mastery over Reason. Yea man's whole life is either a perpetual harmony or discord. In Religion, when one Head is acknowledged, and every one submits thereunto for Conscience sake, and keeps his station; how beautiful are those Tabernacles of Zion, and how agreeable is this Church to its Spouse, to those that behold it in this estate, and to itself? On the contrary, in Schism and Heresy, when every one abounds in his own sense, and will not depend upon any other, how unpleasing is this division even to those that foment it? In the State, when a just Monarch well counselled holds the Sovereignty; the Church, the Nobility, and the third Estate, the other parts; nothing is impossible to him either within or without. He may do every thing that he will, because he will do nothing but what is just. On the contrary, represent to yourself the horrible Tragedies of a Faction revolted against its Prince, or of a furious Triumvirate, and you will see the difference between harmony and discord; whereof the difference and power is so notable, as to all our actions, that he shall speak truth who shall establish it for the cause of all that is either pleasing to us, or disagreeable. So the same materials of two buildings differently set together will render one beautiful, the other deformed. Of two countenances composed of the same parts, the proportion of the one will invite love, while there is nothing but hatred and aversion for the other. Yea this Harmony extends its jurisdiction even to things incorporeal. An injust action displeases though it do not concern us; and the most peaceable man in the world can hardly forbear to interess himself when he sees a great scoundrel outrage some poor little child. The disproportion which appears in the attire of another offends us, as when we see a Porter's wife better clothed then a Counselors; of which the reason seems to me, that our soul being a harmony, is not pleased but with what resembles itself.  
The Fourth said, Effects, the surest evidences of their causes, so apparently speak the power of Harmony, that Orpheus, by the relation of the Poets, recovered his Eurydice out of Hell by it. Timotheus made Alexander leave his feast and betake himself to his Arms; but changing his tune, returned him again to the Table. Orators made use of it to regulate their gestures and voices; and at this day not only the harmonious sound of Organs serves to inflame our zeal, but that of Bells is successfully employed to drive away the Daemons of the air when they raise tempests in it.    

CONFERENCE LVIII.  
I. Of the Sight. II. Of Painting.  

I. Of the Sight.  
AN ignorant Philosopher was he, who pulled out his eyes that he might the better Philosophise; since, on the contrary, 'tis by the sight that we have cognition of all the goodly objects of the world, the ornament and agreeable variety of which seem purposely made to gratify this Sense; whose excellence and privilege appears in that 'tis free from the condition requisite to all the other Senses, viz. that their objects be at a moderate distance; for it discerns as far as the Stars of the Firmament, knows more things than they (there being nothing but has some light and colour, which are its objects) and that most exactly, distinguishing even their least differences; yea it hath this of divinity, that it acteth in an instant, being no more confined to time then place, and much more certain than any of the other Senses. And as if it alone were left in the free enjoyment of its own rights, there's none besides it that hath the power to exercise or not exercise its function, as it lists; the muscles of the eyelids serving to open or close the curtain when it pleaseth, whereas all the rest are constrained to do their offices when their objects are present. Moreover, man's noblest faculty, the Understanding, is called the Eye of the Soul, because it performs the same, office to it that the Eye doth to the Body, which guides and governs. And therefore, in the dark, which hinders the use of this sense, the most daring are not without some fear which cannot proceed from the black colour, as some hold, but from our being destitute of our guide and conductor, which serves for a sentinel to us to discover such things as are hurtful; for in the same darkness we are pretty confident in case we be in the company of persons that can conduct us, and supply the use of our own eyes.  
The Second said, Were it not for custom which renders all things common, there would be nothing so admired as the Eye, which, as small as it is, giveth reception to all corporeal things of what magnitude soever; yea every one is represented there in its own natural proportion, though the species of an Elephant be no bigger in mine Eye then that of a Fly; and nevertheless the Senses judge of their objects by the species streaming from them. And the convex fabric of the eye representing a mirror, seems to argue that we do not behold objects in their true magnitude, but very much smaller than they are. For we see things so as they are received in the eye. But they are received there as the visible species are in Looking-glasses, which if plain represent the same in their true magnitude; if spherical, as the eye is, render them much smaller. And nevertheless we see things in their just proportion. Whence 'tis to be concluded that our Sight which is the most certain of all the Senses is in a perpetual, yea a general error, which consequently is no longer an error, since to err is to deviate from rule, which is a general law. Moreover, this too is wonderful in the Sight; that all the other Organs make several reports to the Senses; one accounts that hot which another judges cold or tepid; one taste seems fresh to one which another thinks too salt; they are of one opinion in odours and sounds, and these are of another; though their Organs be rightly disposed. But that which appears black to one seems so likewise to every body else. And if the Sight happen to be deceived, as when we judge the Moon greater in the Horizon by reason of the vapours of the earth then when she is in the Meridian; or when a strait stick seems crooked in the water; the same eye which is deceived finds its own error by comparison of other objects. Hence ariseth the doctrine of the Parallaxes, and the rules of Optics, Catoptrics, and Dioptrics, which are practised by the sight. So that as he doth not perfectly delire who knows that he is in a delirium, so the sense cannot be said altogether faculty when it discerns its fault. Which the other senses do not.  
The Third said, The excellence of the Sight will be better understood by considering its contrary, Blindness, and the misery of the Blind; their life being an image of death, whilst they pass it in perpetual darkness. Therefore the Civilians exclude them from public Offices; because, say they, they cannot perceive, nor consequently esteem the badges, and ensigns of their Magistracy. Moreover, the Egyptians thought nothing fitter to represent their Deity then the figure of the Eye, which the Stoics call a god, others a divine member, and the Luminary of the little World; Theophrastus, Beauty, because it resides principally in the Eyes, the most charming part of a handsome face. Their colour, twinkling, fixedness, and other dispositions serve the Physiognomists for certain indications of the inclinations of the soul, which all antiquity believed to have its seat in the eyes; in which you read pride, humility, anger, mildness, joy, sadness, love, hatred, and the other humane affections. And as the inclinations and actions of men are more various than those of other creatures, so their eyes alone are variously coloured; whereas the eyes of all beasts of the same species are alike. Yea the eyes are no less eloquent than the tongue, since they express our conceptions by a dumb but very emphatical language; and a twinkle of the eye many times moves more to obedience then speech. Plato being unable to conceive the admirable effects of the Sight without somewhat of divinity, believed there was a celestial light in the eye, which issuing forth to receive the outward light, brought the same to the soul to be judged of; which nevertheless we perceive not in the dark, because then the internal streaming forth into the obscure air, which is unlike to itself, is altered and corrupted by it. Indeed, if it be true that there is a natural implanted sound in the ear, why may there not be a natural light in the eye? considering too that the Organs ought to have a similitude and agreement with their objects. And hence it is that the eyes sometimes flash like lightning in the night, as Cardan saith his did; and Suetonious relates the same of Tiberius; and that those that are in a Frenzy imagine that they see lightning. For it seems to me more rational to refer this Phaenomenon to the lucid and igneous spirits of the sight, which being unable to penetrate the crystalline or vitreous humour by reason of some gross vapours, reflect back into the eye, and make those flashes; then to the smoothness of the eye, or to attrition of the spirits, or, as Galen holds, to an exhalation caused by the blood which is carried to the head; though this latter may sometimes be a joint cause.  
The Third said, The Eye is composed of six Muscles, as many Tunicles, three Humours, two pair of Nerves, and abundance of small Veins and Arteries: its object is every thing that is visible, as colour, light and splendour; light, in the Celestial Bodies, wherein the object and the medium are the same thing, since the light of the Sun is seen by itself; colour, in inferior bodies, where the object and the medium are two, for colour cannot be seen without light; splendour, in the scales of Fishes, rotten wood, the eyes of some animals, Gloeworms and the like; for it is different from their natural colour. It's Organ is the Eye, so regarded by Nature that she hath fortified it on all sides for its safety, with the bone of the Forehead, the Eyebrows, the Eyelids, the hair thereof, the Nose, the rising of the Cheeks, and the Hands to ward off outward injuries; and if Galen may be believed, the Brain itself (the noblest part of the body) was made only for the eyes; whence Anaxagoras conceived that men were created only to see or contemplate. The Eyes are dearer to us then any other part; because, saith Aristotle, they are the instruments of most exact knowledge, and so serve not only for the body but the soul, whose food is the knowledge which the eye supplies, called for this reason the Sense of Invention, as the Ear is that of discipline. 'Tis of an aqueous nature, because it was requisite that it should be diaphanous, to receive the visible species and light; for if it had been of a terrestrial matter, it would have been opake and dark; if aerious, or igneous, it could not have long retained the species; air and fire being thin diaphanous bodies which receive well but retain not; for though the air be full of the species of objects which move through it from all parts, yet they are not visible in it by reason of its rarity. It was fit therefore that the Eye should be of a pellucid and dense substance, that it might both receive and retain the visible species; which kind of substance is proper to water, as appears by the images which it represents. Moreover, the Eye being near, and conjoined to the Brain by the Nerves of the first and second conjugation, and to the membranes thereof by its Tunicles, could not be of an igneous nature perfectly contrary to that of the Brain, as Plato held it to be because of its agility, lucidity and orbicular figure, like that of fire (as he said) and because the Eye is never tense or stiff as all the other parts; all which he conceived could not be but from fire. For the Eyes agility or nimbleness of motion is from its Muscles and its lubricity; its brightness, from the external light; its round figure rather denotes water, whose least particles are so, then fire whose figure is pyramidal. 'Tis never stiff, because of the fat wherewith it is stuffed, and because it is destitute of flesh.   

II. Of Painting.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That Painting is a sort of writing, by which many times that is expressed which cannot be spoken; witness the story of Progne and Philomela: and as the latter represents things by letters, so doth the former by their natural figure; so perfectly that it is understood by the most ignorant; because it exhibits, in their proper colour, bigness, proportion, and other natural accidents: whereas Writing makes use of characters and figures which have no affinity with the things denoted by them, but only signify the same by the institution of men, who therefore differ in Writing, but all agree in painting: Both the one and the other (like all Arts whose scope is imitation, as Oratory, Statuary, Sculpture, Architecture, and many others) depend upon the strength of the Imagination; and that Painter succeeds bests who hath in his mind the most perfect idea of his work. And because a Painter is to imitate every thing, 'tis required to his being a Master that he be ignorant of nothing; particularly he must know both the natural and artificial proportions and agreements of things with their several modes and uses. And where there are three ways of representing; the first in surfaces, by flat painting; the other in bodies themselves, which belongs to Statuary and the Plastic Art; the third between both, as Graving and Carving: Painting is the most difficult, and (consequently) the most noble. For it must so deceive the sight, as to make cavities, folds, and bosses appear in a flat surface by the help of shadows; which although a mere nothing, because but a privation of light, yet they gave all the gracefulness and value to Pictures. For the way of painting without shadows used in China being nothing but a simple delineation without hatchment, as it is very excellent so 'tis exceeding rare; and being not used amongst us cannot come into comparison with the rest. Whereas Sculpture and Statuary consisting only in paring away the overplus of matter, or, if the matter be fusible, in casting it into a mould, made from the original (as the moulds of Plaster are from the faces of persons newly deceased) need less industry.  
The Second said, Although Painting be sensible and visible▪ yet it belongs to very few persons to judge well of it; witness Alexander, who going to see Appelles, and offering to talk concerning Painting, he spoke so ill that the Apprentices of that Artist could not forbear laughing. Indeed Painting is one of the noblest parts of the Mechanics, and aught as well to be ranked amongst the Mathematics as Astronomy. For if the reason of the Celestial motions gave cause for accounting this Science amongst the Mathematics, more justly may the reason of the motions and proportions of man's body, the object of Painting, more admirable and of which more certain and real knowledge may be had then of those remote bodies, deserves to be of that rank; considering that it makes use of the same Mathematical Rules. Proportions, whose Rules are so infallible that seven excellent Statuaries very distant one from the other, being employed to make a brazen Colossus, performed their tasks by the precepts of their Art; and the parts which each of them made severally being put together represented a well proportioned man. According to which proportion a man's body must be eight lengths of his head; from the less corner of the eye to the tip of the Ear is to be twice the length of the Eye; the Feet and Hands stretched forth, equally distant from the Navel; and such other remarks.  
The Third said, The reason of the measures and proportions observed in Painting consists principally in four points, viz. in the form and figure of the thing represented, which is taken from the visual rays; in the shadow, which is to be taken from the rays of light; in colour, which is to imitate the natural; and in the handsome posture or situation of the thing painted. For Painting is the imitation of the affections of bodies, with reference to the light, made upon a solid Plane. Hence a face is otherwise represented under the water then bare, distant then near, in the Sunshine then in the shadow, by Candle-light, or Moonlight. And though the Painter represents also the dispositions of the soul, as anger or sadness, yet he doth it always by the features and qualities of the body.  
The Fourth said, They who blame Painting and Statuary, because they represent unfitting objects, and gave occasion to the Idolatry of antiquity, may as justly blame beauty because 'tis sometimes the occasion of sinning. Painting hath this preeminence above all Arts, that it imitates God more perfectly than they; for God was the first Painter when he made man, the goodliest piece of the world, after his own image and likeness; and all the blessed spirits are but contracted copies of so perfect an original. 'Tis that which frees the body from the tomb, and, like a second table after shipwreck, preserves the memory of virtuous men, renders present those who are absent, and makes almost as strong impressions upon our Soul as the thing itself; witness the friendships of the greatest personages of the world contracted by its means. And as if the desire of pourtraying itself were natural to all things, there is no body but incessantly produces its own image; which flies and wanders in the Air, till it meet with some solid and smooth body whereon to represent itself; as we see in Looking-glasses, and polished marble, where the images are much more exact than those which Art draws with a pencil, yea, than their own originals, of whose corporeal matter they are wholly divested. And (as the beginning of all Arts are rude) this of Painting is attributed to the Daughter of Belus, who observing her Father's shadow upon a wall, delineated it with a coal. For Portraiture, invented by Philocles the Egyptian, is ancienter than Painting, invented either by Gyges the Lydian in Egypt, according to Pliny; or by Pyrrhus, Cousin to Daedalus, according to Aristotle.  
The Fifth said, That in Painting, as in other disciplines, Ignorance of the principles is the cause that so few succeed well in it. These principles are the methodical proportion of Man's Body, Perspective, the reason of shadows, Natural Colours, Designing, and History, all which must be found in a good Piece; and the defect of some of them (as it frequently happens) causes us to wonder, (though we know not the reason) that there is commonly something in all draughts that does not satisfy our Minds. For oftentimes when all the rest is good, Perspective hath not been well observed, or the Design is nought, or the History ill followed. But as things are the more to be esteemed which are the most simple, so there is more of wonder in Painting to the life with a coal, (as Appelles did before Ptolemy, to denote a person to him whom he could not name) then with colours, the least part of Painting, which consists properly only in proportion; and this being the most divine action of Understanding, 'tis no wonder if there be so few good Painters. For they are mistaken who place the excellence of painting in the smallness of the strokes; because they fancy that Appelles was discovered to Protogenes by having made a smaller line than he. For, on the contrary, the most excellent strokes of Masters are many times the grossest; and that this proportion may be exact, it must imitate not only particular subjects, but generally the species of every thing. Which Michael Caravague neglecting to do about 90. years since, and instead of following Albert Durer's excellent Rules, addicting himself to draw only after the life, hath lead the way to all his successors, who care not for his Rules, but give themselves only to imitation; and this is the cause of the defects of painting at this day.    

CONFERENCE LIX.  
I. Of Light. II. Of Age.  

I. Of Light.  
I Conceive (with a learned Physician of the most worthy Chancellor that France ever had, in his Treatise of this subject) that Light is of two sorts; one radical and essential, which is found perfectly in the Stars, the fire, and some other subjects, but imperfectly in coloured bodies, because Colour is a species of Light; The other secondary and derivative, which is found in bodies illuminated by the Light. Both are made in Transparent Bodies; those of the Stars, in the Heaven, and that of flame and bodies ignited in the fire; whiteness, in the Air; and blackness, in the Water. But these transparent bodies must be condensed, that those Lights and Colours may appear; and therefore the principle of Light is in transparence alone, whereof neither purity, rarity, tenuity, nor equality of surfaces, are the causes; but they all proceed from the quantity of matter; some bodies having more matter than others, not by rarity alone, or local extension, but by formal extension, or internal quantity; and consequently, that a little matter under a great internal quantity, is the principle cause of tenuity, rarity, and transparence, to which the evenness of surfaces is also requisite in gross bodies. So that Light consists in a proportion between the quantity and the matter of its subject; and Light is great when the matter is little under a great quantity, as in the Heavens; on the contrary, the body is dark, when a very small quantity is joined to a great deal of matter; as is seen in the Earth. To prove this, you must observe that all simple bodies are luminous, excepting the Earth, which is opake; and we find Light in sundry animated bodies, as in the Eyes of Cats, and of those Indian Snails which shine like torches, and in our Gloe-wormes, whose Light proceeds from their Spirits; which being of a middle nature between the Body and the Soul, are the least material thing in the world. Whence it follows that Light is a form with the most of essence amongst sensible forms, as obscurity hath the least.  
The Second said, The wonder of Marsilius Ficinus was with reason, how 'twas possible that nothing should be so obscure as Light. For if Transparence be the subject of it, why doth Crystal heated red hot in the fire come forth more luminous, and less transparent than it was? The same may be said of Rarity; for we see that Air and Aqua Vitae are well rarified by the fire which inflames them, but cease to be transparent as soon as they are made more rare and luminous; which is an evident sign that rarity and transparence are not causes, nor yet conditions of Light. So the whole remainder of Heaven is lucid; but only the less rare parts, and such as you might call vapours in respect of the pure Air. And the light which proceeds from the Sun, the most luminous of all those celestial bodies, would never be visible, but be deprived of all its effects which are heating and enlightening, if it were not reflected by some solid body. Then it not only appears, but exerts its activity. And if things be produced by the same causes which preserve and multiply them, the solidity of burning mirrors made of Steel, the hardest of all metals, which make the Sunbeams do more than their own nature empowers them to, shows sufficiently that their Light cannot arise from a rare and diaphanous cause. Nor may the Light of rotten wood be assigned to its rarity alone, since many other bodies of greater rarity shine not at all; nor that of Gloeworms and Cats Eyes to their spirits, since the flesh of some animals shines after their death; as 'tis affirmed of Oxen, that have frequently eaten a sort of Moon-wort; and not only the scales of divers fishes shine after separation from their bodies, but sparkles of fire issue from the hair of some persons in great droughts, whereunto the spirits contribute nothing. Which would persuade me to believe, that Light is a Form, to the introduction whereof several conditions are requisite, according to the diversity of subjects; just as we see the Souls of some irrational creatures need great dispositions for their reception, a Brain, a Heart, and a Liver, with their dependences; whereas others, as Infects, require less, and are contented with something that may supply this defect; some are generated in an instant, without any apparent preparation, as Frogs in a summer shower; and therefore to assign the cause of Light, is to seek the reason of Forms, which is unknown to us. Which similitude the vulgar speech confirms; for the people say, The Candle is dead when it is extinguished, presupposing that it had life before; as an Animal hath so long as its form is conjoined with its body. Moreover, Fire hath a Local Motion (as Animals have) to obtain its food.  
The Third said, Light is a substance; for it was created by God; but 'tis a Sixth Essence, more subtle than that of Heaven, which is called a Quintessence in respect of the Four Elements. A substance which subsisted before the Sun, having been created three days before it; and nothing hinders but it may be communicated in a moment from Heaven to Earth, since the intentional species of visible things is so. Indeed, whereunto shall we attribute the effect of Light, which heats at distance, and blinds being too great, which colours and gives ornament to the Universe, if it be not a substance? And the Penetration of Dimension, objected hereunto, is salved by saying that it hath no more place here, then when an Iron is red hot with the Fire, which yet none will affirm to be an accident; and nevertheless it enters into the whole substance of the Iron, and Light with it; for 'tis transparent and luminous at its centre when 'tis throughly heated in the Fire.  
The Fourth said, The excellence of Light appears, in that nothing hath greater resemblance with the Deity. Which made some Heathen Philosophers say, that Light is God's Body, and Truth his Soul. Moreover, the Scripture teaches us, that God dwells in inaccessible Light. And the blessed Spirits are styled Angels of Light, as Daemons Spirits of darkness. Light enlivens and animates all things, it rejoices all Creatures by its presence; Birds begin to sing, and even flowers to display their beauties at its arrival. And because Nothing gives what it hath not, therefore some have conceived, that Light, the enlivener of all the world, is itself endued with life, and that 'tis the Universal Spirit, and the Soul of the whole world. Whence Plato, in his timaeus, brings no other argument to prove that Fire is an Animal, but that it is luminous. And, in the sixth Book of his Commonwealth, he makes the Sun (who is the known Father of all living things) the son of Light; without which Pythagoras forbade to do any thing. Moreover, it hath no contrary; Darkness being opposed to it only privatively. For its being is so excellent that Nature found not herself so able to make any thing that might be equalled with it, that might alter and corrupt it, as the nature of Contraries require; whereas all Qualities have each their particular enemy. And 'tis upon this very reason that Light acts in an instant; because having no contrary quality to expel from its subject, it needs no time or successive motion, which is necessary to other qualities, as to heat, to warm cold water.  
The Fifth said, Light is a real form produced in the medium by a luminous body; Aristotle calls it the act of the Perspicuum as it is Perspicuum. This Form is accidental, and falls under the head of Patible Qualities, because 'tis sensible by itself, which is the property of accidents alone; (whereas substance is not sensible, (that is, falls not under the perception of sense) but by means of accidents;) and as it is the principle of action, which belongs only to a Quality. For it cannot be a corporeal substance, and Democritus and Epicurus conceived, saying, that Light is an Emanation of particles, or little bodies from a lucid body; or as they who make it a species of fire, which they divide into That which burns and shines; That which burns and shines not, and That which shines but burns not, which is this Light. For no natural body is moved in an instant, nor in all sorts of places, as Light is; but they have all a certain difference of position or tendency, some towards the centre, others towards the circumference, and others circularly.  
The Sixth said, 'Tis true, Light is not of the nature of our sublunary bodies, for it is not generated and corrupted as they are. It is not generated, since generation is effected by corruption of one form, and introduction of another. But we have instances of incorruptible Light even here below; as that in the Temple of Venus, which could not be extinguished nor consumed, though neither oil nor wick were put to it; and that other found in a Sepulchre where it had burned for fifteen hundred years, but as soon as it took Air went out. And indeed the subtilety and activity of Fire is such, that it may be reasonably conceived to attract the sulphurous vapours for its subsistence, which are in all parts of the Air, but especially in Mines, whose various qualities produce the diversity of subterraneal fires, as to their lasting continuance, and interval; which some compare to the intermitting fevers excited in our bodies by a preternatural heat.   

II. Of Age.  
Of the Second Point it was said, That Age is the measure of the Natural Changes whereunto Man is subject by the principles of his being, which are various according to every one's particular constitution; some being puberes, having a beard, or grey hairs, or such other tokens, sooner than others, according to the diversity of their first conformation: Whence ariseth that of their division. Aristotle, following Hypocrates, divides them into Youth, Middle Age, and Old Age; or according to Galen, into Infancy or Childhood, vigour, or Manhood, or old age; or according to most, they are divided into Adolescence, Youth, the Age of Consistence, and Old Age. Adolescence comprehends Infancy, which reacheth to the seventh year; Puerility, which reacheth to the fourteenth year; Puberty, which reacheth to the eighteenth; and that which is called by the general name, Adolescence, reaching to the five and twentieth; Youth, which is the flower of Age, is reckoned from twenty five to thirty three years of age; Virile, and Consistent Age, from thirty five to forty eight, where Old Age begins, which is either green, middle, or decrepit. These Four Ages are the Four Wheels of our Life, whose mutations they denote; the First, being nearest the original, hot and moist, symbolising with the blood; the Second, hot and dry, with Choler; the Third, cold and dry, with melancholy; the Fourth, cold and moist, with Phlegm, which being contrary to the radical humidity leads to death. Now if it be true (that they say) that life is a punishment, and an Abridgement of miseries, Old Age, as being nearest the haven and the end of infelicities, is the most desirable. Moreover, being the most perfect by its experiences, and alone capable to judge of the goodness of Ages, 'tis fit we refer ourselves to the goodness of its judgement, as well in this point as in all others.  
The Second said, Since to live is to act, the most perfect and delightful of all the Ages of life is that in which the functions of body and mind (whereof we consist) are best exercised; as they are in Youth (which alone seems to dispute pre-eminence with Old Age) not only by reason of the bodily health and vigour which it possesses in perfection, and which supplies Spirits and Courage for brave deeds, whereof that declining Age (which is itself a necessary and incurable malady) is incapable; but also in regard of the actions of the mind which is far more lively, inventive, and industrious in young persons then in old, whose wit wears out, grows worse with the body; whence came that so true Proverb, That old men are twice children. For 'tis a disparagement to the original of wisdom, to deduce it from infirmity, to name that ripe which is rotten, and to believe that good counsels can come only from the defect of natural heat, since according to his judgement who hath best described wisdom, old age causes as many wrinkles in the mind as in the face; and we see no souls but as they grow old smell sour and musty, and acquire abundance of vices and evil habits, of which Covetousness alone inseparable from old age (which shows its weakness of judgement, to scrape together with infinite travel what must shortly be forsaken) is not less hurtful to the State then all the irregularities of youth. Now if the supreme good be in the Sciences, than the young men must infallibly carry the cause; since sharpness of wit, strength of fancy, and goodness of memory, (of which old men are wholly destitute) and ability to undergo the tediousness of Lucubration, are requisite to their acquisition. If it consists in a secret complacency which we receive from the exercise of virtuous actions, then young men, who, according to Chancellor Bacon, excel in morality, will carry it from old men; it being certain that the best actions of life are performed between twenty and thirty years of age, or thereabouts, which was the age at which Adam was created in Paradise; as our Lord accomplished the mystery of our Redemption at the age of 33 years, which shall also be the age at which the blessed shall rise up to glory, when every one shall enjoy a perfect youth (such as given to the Angels) and put off old age, which being not much different from death, may (as well as that) be called the wages of sin; since if our first Parent had persisted in the state of Innocence, we should have possessed the glory of perpetual undeclining Youth. Moreover, 'tis at this Age that the greatest personages have manifested themselves; we have seen but few old Conquerors, and if there be any, he hath this of Alexander, that he aspires to the conquest of another world, not having long to live in this. Wherefore in stead of pretending any advantage over the other ages, old men should rather be contented that people do not use them as those of Cea and the Massagetes, who knocked them on the head, or the ancient Romans who cast them headlong from a Bridge into Tiber, accounting it an act of piety to deliver them from life, whose length was displeasing to the Patriarches; the Scripture saying, that they died full of days.  
The Third said, That the innocence of Infants should make us desire their age; considering that our Lord requires that we be like them, if we would enter into his Kingdom; and the Word of God speaks to us as we do to children. Moreover, since Nature could not perpetuate infancy, she hath found no sweeter Anodyne to the miseries and sadnesses of old people than the sight of children, (whom they extremely love) and then the memory of things done or learned in their nonage; which the less distant it is from its source, the Deity, the more it partakes thereof.  
The Fourth said, Youth hath too many extravagancies, to be accounted happy; nor can Childhood and Old-age deserve that title, since 'twould be contrary to the order of nature if the extremes contained more perfection then that which is in the middle, where she hath established the virtue of all things. For as for Childhood, its weakness sufficiently shows that it hath not wherewith to content itself, since it needs the help of others, and is an object of pity, a passion that never arises but from misery. There's no commendation in its innocence, which depends upon impotence, and the imperfection of the souls operations; and they as much want the will and power to do well as the intention and means to do ill. But true Innocence consists in the action of difficult good. If Infancy hath no apprehension of the future, it receives the present evil with much more pain, and shows itself as sensible to the least displeasures, as incapable of consolation and prudence to avoid them; if it wants fear (though indeed every thing terrifies it) the hope of good to come never anticipates and prolongs its enjoyment. In a word, he cannot be happy who hath not the knowledge of his happiness, which Children cannot have while they want the use of Reason, which is peculiar to Man. Old-age, which is a second Childhood (and the more to be disliked in that it always grows worse) partakes all the defects of the first age, and hath this besides, that the desires awakened by the remembrance of passed conrentments are constantly jarring with his impotence; and the ardency of getting and possessing hath a perpetual contract with the necessity of forsaking and losing; pains and aches, the forerunners of death, daily attempt his patience, and there's no hope of other cure but the extremity of all evils, not-being. Infancy therefore is like the Spring, which hath only flowers, and expects the fruits afterwards; 'tis an age of hope, without enjoyment; Youth hath only Summer fruits, of little lasting; Old-age is a Winter, without either flowers, or fruits, hath nothing but present evils in possession, is to fear all, and to lose all. But Virility or Manhood holds the middle between them both, and resembles Autumn, denoted by the horn of Plenty, possesses the happiness of life, enjoys the present goods, and by hope anticipates those to come; the soul in this age commonly corresponds with the body; its faculties make an agreeable symphony with the actions hereof, and the sweet union of a reciprocal complacency. On the contrary, in childhood the soul seems not yet well tuned to the body; in adolescence it always jars with the appetites of the Senses; and in old age it altogether disagrees with itself, and by a sudden departure endeavours to have its part separately.    

CONFERENCE LX.  
I. Of Quintessence. II. Which is the most in esteem, Knowledge or Virtue.  

I. Of Quintessence.  
THe mind of man, as it is the purer part of him, so it is always pleased with that which is most pure. In conversation it loves the most refined, and prefers simplicity, which is most pure, above the windings and double-dealing of deceivers. Amongst Metals it prefers Gold and Silver, which are the purest, above Lead, Iron, and other imperfect and coarse Minerals. In food, Physic and the stomach of the diseased choose that which is most freed from its gross and unprofitable parts. Among sounds, the most subtle are the most charming. Among artificial things, we find more sprightliness in the gracefulness of small works then in others. In the Sciences, the more subtle a reason is, the more 'tis applauded. But being health is the greatest, yea the only true good, being the foundation of all the rest; and sickness the greatest, yea the only real evil of our life; therefore our minds have herein most sought after subtilety, especially to subtilise aliments and medicaments; not but that there may be a quintessence as well drawn from other things, but it would not be so useful. Now 'tis to be observed that this word is taken either generally for any body depurated from its more course matter, as Spirits, Waters, and Oils; excluding Magisteries which retain the entire substance of the bodies from whence they are taken, only rendered more active by its subtilization: or else it is taken properly; and in this acception Quintessence is some thing different from all this, and is compared to the soul which informs the body.  
The Second said, That in every compound body there is a mixture of substance, besides that of qualities; whence arise the occult properties and forms of things, which is their fifth Essence: 'tis no Body, for it takes not up place; nor yet a Spirit, since 'tis found also in inanimate bodies; but some thing of a middle nature between both, and neither one nor the other. Of which kind we want not examples in Nature; Shadow, the Image in a Glass, yea all intentional species, are neither body nor spirit. Now that it takes not up place, may be proved; because a bottle of Wine exposed unstopped to the air, is not diminished in its quantity, yet lofes its taste, smell, and other qualities; by which change it becomes another thing from what it was before; an evidence that it hath lost its form, which is nothing else but the Quintessence we speak of; and should another body receive the same it would have the qualities the Wine lost, which after separation of them is no more Wine than the carcase of a man is a man after his soul is departed. Moreover, that which nourishes in food is not a body, but the form or quintessence of it; since by the observation of the most Inquisitive, 'tis found that the excrements of all the concoctions equal the aliments both in weight and quantity, as the Urine of Drunkards is commonly as much as the Wine they have drunk, and Mineral waters are voided in the same quantity that they were taken. This fifth Essence is found every where, in the Elements and in compound bodies. In those 'tis the purest of the Element impregnated with the Universal Spirit; in these 'tis likewise the purest part of the compound animated by the same Spirit.  
The Third said, There is no other Quintessence but the Heaven in comparison of the Elements; in the mixtion whereof, the Heaven concurs as an universal Agent, whose influence (which is the soul of the World) determining the matter informs and renders it active; thus the Stars produce Metals even in the centre of the Earth. Hence the world Heaven is taken by Chemists for Quintessence, because of the simplicity and activity common both to the one and the other. But, because it cannot fall under the cognisance of our Senses, in regard of its aethereal nature, the most searching Naturalists give its name to the most subtle extracts, especially such as are made by fire; although the same be not eternal, as Quintessence ought to be, but only of long duration.  
The Fourth said, 'Tis the humour of unsettled heads, instead of cultivating the precepts of antiquity, to go about to fabricate new; and hence comes the contemplation and the extraction of Quintessences. For (besides that 'tis not certain that what is drawn out of a Plant was there before; it being probable that the action of the fire may have introduced it in part, or in whole, into the compositum) this Quintessence hath not the conditions requisite to merit that name, because it has both first and second qualities; and consequently is not only corporeal, but also corruptible. And if it were incorruptible, it would be wholly unprofitable, yea hurtful to man's body, since it could not be changed or altered by it, and none but poisons are such. For Medicaments and aliments are altered by our nature. But however, the Empyrema or Adustion which these Quintessences commonly acquire in the fire renders their activity too great and disproportionate to our temper: Which is the cause that things already excessive in quality, as Salt and Vitriol▪ are very hurtful being made into Quintessences; because there is no more proportion between them and us. And therefore I am of the judgement of the Vulgar, who never speak of those drawers of Quintessences but with contempt, considering that they make profession of a thing which is not; and which if there were any such, would be either unprofitable or hurtful.  
The Fifth said, That the Chemical Quintessence is an aethereal, celestial, and most subtle substance, composed of the Salt, Sulphur and Mercury of bodies dissolved, spoiled of all their elementary qualities, corruptible and mortal, united to a spiritual body, or corporeal spirit, which is the medium and bond uniting bodies and spirits in nature; and called by some, for its rarity, Elixir; for its wonderful use in preserving the health of man's body, the Sovereign Medicine by which they hold that youth may be restored, and all sorts of diseases cured; it not being requisite in its action that it be altered by our natural heat, which, on the contrary, it changes and perfectionates, taking the part of nature, as all poisons destroy it. And 'tis certain that since there are bodies which are barely altered by our nature, as aliments; others, which are altered by it, but reciprocally alter it, as medicaments; others which destroy it without being altered by it; so there is a fourth sort which preserves it without being altered by it, which is the Quintessence, thoroughly separated from the four Elements, yea from every thing that enters into the composition; as is seen in Treacle, whose virtue proceeds from some body which is not any of all the ingredients, but results from them all together after convenient fermentation. And, possibly, they who blame this curious inquisition do it to decline the pains, or because they understand it not; as 'tis said the Fox that wanted a tail counselled all his fellows to cut off theirs.  
The Sixth said, Being all the Chemical Principles are resolved into our four Elements, their Quintessence which is compounded thereof will be nothing else but these Elements more pure and refined, and consequently no more a Quintessence then all mixts are in respect of the Elements whereof they consist. For a Quintessence must be a simple body, not any of the four Elements, much less compounded of them; and Heaven alone is such; whatever certain Philosophers have said, some holding it to be only a continuation of the air; others, that 'tis of an igneous nature, because its denser parts appear such, and its name Aether signifies Fire; some, that 'tis a fluid and aqueous substance; others, on the contrary, a pure and solid earth. For Heaven hath a simple, to wit, a circular motion, which, as the most perfect of all, aught to belong to the most noble of all bodies; and this circular motion belongs not to any of the Elements, since each of them moves in a direct line; two from the Centre, and two others towards the Centre. But a simple body cannot have two motions: it follows therefore that Heaven hath a motion different from that of the four Elements; since motion, particularly local, the first and commonest of all is an effect of the nature of every thing which is the principle of motion. Moreover, Heaven alone is exempt from all elementary and corporeal qualities. 'Tis neither heavy nor light, because it neither moves towards the Centre nor the circumference, but about the Centre. 'Tis neither generated nor corrupted, because it hath no contrary. And for this reason it hath neither augmentation nor diminution, inasmuch as these are species of generation and corruption. 'Tis not any way altered, since alteration is caused by the action of some contrary. Lastly, it cannot enter into any composition; and, consequently, there is indeed a Quintessence, but 'tis not in sublunary bodies.   

II. Which is most in esteem Knowledge or Virtue.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That 'tis first requisite to remove the equivocation of those who comprehend Knowledge under Virtue; since by the word Virtuous we understand, here, not a Virtuoso, but a good man; who though he deserves to be more, yet is always less esteemed than a knowing or learned man: because every one esteems that most which hath most show and price. Now a virtuous man is not only destitute of this, but his greatest virtue consists in not seeking vainglory; whereof the greatest part of mankind being adorers, and every one affecting such as resemble themselves, therefore the learned is commonly esteemed above the other. Moreover, the reasoning of man being wholly depraved since the Fall, he is rather for Verisimilitude then Verity. Now the learned easily persuades that he is more to be esteemed then the virtuous, who doth good because it is good, and not to be esteemed for it; whereas the other is like those bad Officers who make amends for their ill deeds by fair writing. So Demosthenes having run with the first from the Battle, made such an excellent Oration, that he was commended for that which deserved perpetual shame. But that which makes virtue less prized, is, because it falls upon all sorts of conditions and sexes; a poor man and a poor woman exercising not less virtue in supporting their misery with constancy, than a great Captain in overcoming his enemy: and learning being not so common, especially that which is sublime, 'tis the more esteemed for its rarity. They who judge of the worth of men's actions account of them according to the pains that there is in performing them. But 'tis judged more painful to become learned then to live well. Others say, 'Tis best to be virtuous for the other world, and knowing for this; good Nature, which is no way suspicious, being ordinarily subject to the deceits of the more crafty. But I conceive, that 'tis best to be virtuous both for this world and the other too. For if you be in prosperity it serves to set off and illustrate your Virtues; if in adversity (which nevertheless may be declined by the prudence whereof the virtuous is not destitute) Fortieude and Temperance make it judged less; and Justice makes us reflect upon others who are in a worse estate. And as for the other world, virtuous actions merit grace, which is the seed of eternal glory, a reward to which knowledge alone cannot entitle us; for Solomon calls it a vain travel given to men, whilst the poor of spirit are called happy. What then ought we to know? To be virtuous, to the end that the Sciences may be subservient to the Virtues their Mistresses.  
The Second said, Science is so much inferior to Virtue as the Means are to their end, since all Sciences are only in order to acquire Virtue, without which they are but troublesome talk, and dead notions; and since such knowledge as edifies not the Conscience is but vain, Divinity, the prime of all Sciences, proposes Piety to itself; Physic, Charity; the Law, Justice. Yea they all seem to have no other aim but to render homage to Virtue, and cherish it with praise, its only aliment: the ordinary employment of learned persons being to extol the virtuous. If few persons embrace Virtue, 'tis because they know it not; for 'tis one of those things, a sight whereof is sufficient to make it loved; and were it not veiled, or covered with rags, but appeared wholly naked, its charms would attract all the world. Hence we so admire and honour the few that are virtuous, who have in all times been extolled above other men. Moreover, Divines hold that every sinner is ignorant; and that a man cannot prefer Vice before Virtue without being blind of Understanding.  
The Third said, 'Tis true, if we judge of the excellence of Virtue and Knowledge by their necessity, Virtue will carry it; because 'tis much more necessary, yea alone absolutely so to a State, which rather resembles a Cavern of robbers or wild beasts when Virtue is banished; whereas whole States and Kingdoms very easily and many times profitably dispense with the Sciences. And the gross ignorance of the Ancients did not hinder, but that they left flourishing States. But because on one side the most excellent things are not always the most necessary, as appears by the Mechanical Arts, we must inquire the preeminence of Knowledge or Virtue upon another ground. They are both habits, whose excellence is taken from the subjects wherein they are; so the habit of speaking well is more excellent than that of Painting, and Painting then Dancing; because the Tongue is more noble than the Hand, and this then the Feet. Now Virtue is a habit of the Will; Knowlédge a habit of the Intellect, which as much surpasses the Will as Contemplation does Action. For whether we consider the actions and manner of acting of either of these Faculties, or their objects, the Will yields to the Understanding; which being the Eye of the Soul governs all the Faculties, guides the Will, of itself blind, and incapable of any action without the light of the Intellect. Moreover, compare the Intellectual Virtues with the Moral, and you will see what difference there is between Sapience, which is the knowledge of the highest things by their Causes; Intelligence, which is the intuitive knowledge of first Principles; in brief, Science, Prudence, and the Arts, on one part; and on the other, Temperance, Courage, Justice, and the other moral Virtues, which ordinarily have no other employment but to keep the Concupiscible and Irascible appetites within bounds, though they can never bring it to pass without Reason. The Object of the Understanding which is Entity, as such (because in this sense 'tis intelligible) is also more noble than that of the Will, namely, Entity, as good and desirable; because Entity, as such is first, more simple and more abstracted than Entity, as good; which is only a passion of Entity. And this Entity which the Understanding considers is not only material and singular, but spiritual, universal, and infinite. Yea it not only knows that which is extrinsical to itself, but by a special privilege it knows itself, and by an action wholly divine reflects upon itself and its own actions. And as if it were not content with its jurisdiction it knows not only that which is, but also that which is not, entities of Reason, and Possibilities.  
The Fourth confirmed the preceding Judgement, because all Moral Virtues depend on the Understanding in their production and conservation. For as we are lead to good because we know it such by the Understanding, so the Virtues become vicious when they are destitute of Prudence, which is a Virtue of the Understanding, who alone gives law and weight to all the other Virtues which it guides. But what makes most for Knowledge, 'tis pecular to Man, who alone of all Animals knows things by their proper causes; whereas Virtue is common to him with brutes, from whom he many times learns a lesson. But if you deny them the title of Virtue, at least they have the shadow and image of it; the Pismire, of diligence; the Serpent, of prudence; the Lion, of courage, and so of the rest; but not any of Science, which is the only good and difference of Man; and once gotten is so inseparable from him, that it alone of all his good accompanies him into the other life, in which he is abandoned by all Moral Virtues, as being then unprofitable; because they are but the means to attain beatitude, which most Divines make to consist in the knowledge of God, who alone hath an infinite knowledge of all things, but hath nothing to do with Virtue, which presupposes Vice to be subdued.  
The Fifth said, That the promise of knowledge made to the first Man by the Devil, having triumphed over all his Virtues, shows that Science is sometimes stronger than Virtue; but this having the promises of reward both in this and the other life; and Knowledge, on the contrary, being often blamed of puffing up men's Minds and called vain, determines the Question to the advantage of Virtue.    

CONFERENCE LXI.  
I. Which is hardest to endure, Hunger or Thirst. II. Whether a General of an Army should endanger his person.  

I. Which is hardest to endure, Hunger or Thirst.  
THe natural heat of Man, which lasts as long as his life, is preserved by reparation, and avoiding of suffocation; the former by food, and the latter by the Air which ventilates it, and refreshes its ardour. The greater this heat is, the more need it hath of fuel and refreshment. On the contrary, among Animals, those that have no blood, as most Infects, and those that have but little, as Fishes, who consequently have but little heat, (since we have as much heat as blood) have less need of ventilation, and therefore are destitute of Lungs, excepting Whales and Dolphins, as having more heat. Now as the Air repairs our spirituous parts; so Aliments, (to wit, meat and drink) restore our solid and liquid parts, which are in continual decay. And because their continual reparation was absolutely necessary to the conservation of the Creature, therefore Nature gave it an Appetite and desire of them; which if it be of meats, is called Hunger; if of drink, Thirst; either of them accompanied with pain and pleasure; the pain, to give notice of the time to take food; the pleasure, to make these natural actions performed the more willingly. All which, for the same reason, Nature has seasoned with pleasure, so long as they are not excessive. Therefore being Pleasure and Pain still follow one another in natural actions, it seems that the one ought to be the rule of the other: And so, since there is more pleasure in drinking then in eating, there is also more pain in thirst then in hungger. Now that drinking is more delicious than eating is manifest, because drink refreshes the body almost in an instant, without disturbing it, as food does, restoring it but by little and little, and so with less pleasure, which is again diminished by the agitation caused in the head, by the motion of the nether jaw for the grinding of the meat. Yea, if we may believe good drinkers, as experienced in this matter, they eat only to irritate their thirst, to the end they may have more contentment in drinking.  
The Second said, The more necessary a thing is, the more painful is the want of it. Now the needs of thirst seem the more considerable, for that the absumption of humid substance is more speedy than that of dry, which consequently hath not so urgent necessity of being repaired as the humid. Moreover, most drinks allay Hunger too as well as thirst; and therefore there is no more excellent remedy against a Boulimie, or Doggish Hunger than Wine; whereas, on the contrary, eating provokes Thirst instead of appeasing it. And this Thirst is not only intolerable in health, but almost in all diseases; for, excepting the aforesoid Boulimie, all sick persons prefer drinking before eating, as having more need of it; yea, those to whom eating is necessary, (for many are cured by abstinence) their food must ordinarily be liquid, that is to say, of the nature of drink; the dryness of solid food requiring a greater strength of stomach then sick persons have, for reducing it into Chyle, whose form is liquid; Nature being unable to accommodate itself to any other. All which evidenceth that Humidity is the more necessary, and also the more difficult to be forborn.  
The Third said, Experience determines the Question to the advantage of Hunger, since none of us returning home to a meal he begins it with drink, unless be indisposed. And even they who have intention to begin it so do it in preparation to eating. Moreover, Thirst is only a mutation of quality, which is for that reason most properly called Alteration; because the humidity of the superior orifice of the stomach, in which alone Thirst resides, is then found altered, and changed into dryness: But Hunger is an inanition and defect of the substance requisite to fill the vacuities of our parts. So that Hunger surpasses Thirst, as much as substance does an Accident. For these Definitions, that Hunger is a desire of Hot and Dry, as Thirst is of Cold and Moist, seem to be defective; not only because Hunger▪ would never be appeased by an exhalation Hot and Dry, or by any other body of the same nature intromitted into the stomach, unless it were proper to nourish and mixed with the other qualities; but also because Hunger and Thirst are pains, and particularly Hunger, a Convulsion of the stomach, and not Desires or Appetites, whose seat is in the Heart, and not in the Ventricle. And if Hunger were only after Hot and Dry, than Purslane, Lettuce, Melons, and other Cold and Moist Aliments would never satisfy it; as likewise broths would not allay Thirst when taken (as 'tis the custom) actually Hot, nor yet Wine which is hot in power, and heats effectually instead of refrigerating, if Thirst were only after Cold and Moist. But that which shows Hunger to be more insupportable than Thirst, is, that many Hydropical persons, and others, have lived some years without drinking; whereas no body ever could spend much time without eating, unless by miracle; and Famine is often reckoned among the scourges of God, but Thirst never.  
The Fourth said, Hunger is caused by the continual action of heat upon our substance, which, to secure itself, by help of the same heat attracts what ever is most fluid and movable in the next part; this again draws what it can from its neighbour, to supply fuel to this heat. And thus successively from the extremities of the body to the mesaraick veins in the centre; which, to give supply to this continual suction, powerfully drain out of the guts the purest of the aliment, as these do from the stomach; which being exhausted, the acide humour diffused in the bottom of it, whither 'tis conveyed from the spleen by the Vas breve, vellicates the internal tunicle, and causes a pain in it not to be assuaged but by the application of Aliment; and this they call Hunger, which also is increased by acid things. And this pain, according as 'tis more or less sensible, in regard of the acrimony or quantity of the acide humour, and according as the inside of the stomach is lined with natural mucosity, makes Hunger to be more easily tolerated by some, then by others. Thirst is a Desiccation, and Calefaction of the upper orifice of the stomach, greater or less according to the degrees of heat, or as any defluxion of fresh or salted Phlegm descends from the Brain upon the orifice. So that they whose natural or accidental heat is less endure Hunger and Thirst best. Which, to the end this Question, must be considered neither absolutely or respectively. In the first manner, since eating and drinking are equally necessary, thence Hunger and Thirst shall be equally insupportable. But comparing one Age, one Sex, and one Constitution with another; Hunger will be more intolerable than Thirst to a Child, to a Woman, and to an Old Man, especially if they be Phlegmatic or Melancholy; on the contrary, Thirst will be more difficult to endure by a young man if he be choleric or sanguine.  
The Fifth said, That the afflux of the melancholy humour may cause the Canine, but not that natural Hunger, which is only a suction made in the upper orifice of the Ventricle, perceptible by the Nerves of the sixth Conjugation, were the melancholy humour cannot come. Moreover, Nature, who always takes the shortest way, makes the melancholy humour descend from the Spleen into the Haemorrhoidal Veins; otherwise that impure blood, and the most malignant of all the excretions, would infect the Ventricle, and by it the Chyle. And there being no humour that causes natural Thirst, 'tis not necessary there should be any to produce Thirst; which I account more or less supportable, according to the several habits of Body; to the fat, Thirst, and Hunger to the lean.   

II. Whether a General of an Army should endanger his person.  
Upon the Second Point, That the value which Men put upon Valour, which is nothing else but a contempt of dangers, shows that those who would partake most of honour must also have the greatest share in the danger, according to the Proverb, None triumphs without fight; and if we take the opinion of Soldiers, who are the best judges in this case, they never so willingly resign themselves to any Leader, as to him that freely ventures his life with them; it being no less incompetible for a General to advance himself, and get credit and Reputation in Arms without endangering his person, then for a Pilot to sail well upon the Sea without incurring the hazard of shipwreck. So that we may say of war, what is commonly said of the Sea, He that fears danger must not go to it. The Civilians have the same meaning when they commit the charge of guardianships to those that are most qualified to succeed, and there can be no honour without a charge; whence the words are promiscuously used in our Language. Moreover, as no Sermon is more eloquent than the exemplary life of the Preacher; so no Military Oration is so persuasive, or so well received by an Army, as the example of its General, when they see him strike the first blow; as, on the contrary, if he testifies any fear, every one taking his actions for a rule, and conforming thereunto, will do the same; he will not be obeyed but with regret, and through a servile fear of punishment, not out of a gallant sense of honour, because he that is most honoured in the Army is most remote from blows; at least, the other Leaders and Officers will do as much, and all the Soldiers in imitation of them. In brief, we need but consider, how not only the Marcelli, the Camilli, the Scipio's, Hannibal, and many other Generals of Armies, but Alexander, Caesar, and in our time Henry the Great, and the King of Sweden, all Sovereign Princes, were sufficiently venturous of their persons; and that it was not by not taking part in dangers, that they triumphed over their enemies.  
The Second said, That to know how to command well, and how to execute well, are two several Talents, and depend upon several abilities; they who are born to command, being unfit to execute; and, on the contrary, they who are proper to obey being incapable of commanding. Wherefore the Head of an Army, who gives Orders and Commands, must cause them to be executed by others. So the Judge pronounces the Sentence, and appoints Sergeants to put it in execution; the Physician commands his Patient, who obeys his prescriptions; the Pilot, the Officers of the Ship, but himself Steers not. But that which should most restrain a General from acting in person, is, that he cannot in this occurrence preserve the prudence which is absolutely necessary to him. For the heat of Courage heightened by that of the Charge and the Encounter, being wholly contrary to the coldness of Prudence, which is inconsistent with the violent motions caused by the ardour of fury, commonly attending Valour, renders him precipitate, inconstant and incapable, for the time, to deliberate of fit means, to choose them, and cause them to be executed. Moreover, the General being the Chieftain of the Army ought to resemble the Head; which derives sense and motion to the parts, yet stirs not for their defence, but on the contrary, employs them for its own. So the prime Captain ought to sway and manage the body of his Army by his Counsels and Orders; but not put his own person in danger, because upon his safety depends that of all the rest, who being destitute of a Chieftain remains like a body without a head, and an unprofitable trunk. Therefore Generals of Armies are compared to the heads of Cypress-Trees; which being once lop'd off, the stem never thrives afterwards.  
The Third said, The highest point of judgement is to distinguish appearance from truth, and in all professions 'tis very dangerous, though in appearance more honourable, to be carried to extremes, but especially in War, where there is not room for many mistakes. The General who exposes his life cannot be excused from ambition or imprudence; from the former, if he does it without necessity; from the latter, if for want of having rightly ordered his affairs he sees himself reduced to that point. Whereas, as in Artificial Engines the piece which gives motion to the rest is immovable; so the General who gives order to the main of the Army ought to have the like influence upon it: as the heart in the middle of the body, and the brain in the middle of the head, to transmit life and spirits to the whole body, and to occur to accidents both foreseen and unexpected. Otherwise, should the principal parts not be contented to follow the body, but change their natural situation, all the parts would be doubly inconvenienced; both because they would not know where to find them when they needed their direction; and because the least offence of the nobler parts being mortal, their hurt would redound not only to themselves, but also to the rest of the body. Moreover, if the General act the Soldier, who shall act the Captain? how will the Corporal and common Soldier do? They will all think themselves become equal to their superiors, they will no longer do any thing but in their company; and 'twill be no wonder if disorder slides into all the member; when it has begun at the head. If they be blamed for not knowing how to obey, their excuse will be ready, That they have to do with Leaders who know not how to command. Besides, the General hath the same relation to his Army that the First Precedent hath to a Parliament. Now what would you say if the First Precedent should manage the cause, and undertake to plead it, although the Advocates acquitted themselves ill? Even Domestic Government may serve for a rule in this case; the head of a Family losing his credit among his servants, when he sets himself to do their work. For whereas almost all the affairs of men depend upon opinion, when the respect which arises from the authority of the superior over his inferiors is once shaken, as it is by the too great familiarity which the society of dangers begets, contempt will be apt to justle out duty. And the common Soldier looks upon his General but as another man when he sees him partake of the same hardships with him. Upon this account were invented the Diadems, Sceptres, Crowns, and other ornaments of Sovereigns, and their Magistrates; the meanest of which, instructed by experience, are jealous of their authority, which they keep up by separating themselves from the commerce of the vulgar; but lose it as soon as they receive those for companions over whom they are to command.  
The Fourth said, That Reward and Punishment being the two Supports of all our actions (but especially in War, where there is not time to make all the inductions requisite to a good ratiocination) neither of them can be well administered without the presence of the Chieftain, who alone can judge of the merit of his Soldiers, free from all passions, especially, envy and jealousy, which are found amongst equals: for want of which both the one and the other sometimes complain with good reason, the meaner of not being seen, and the great persons of not seeing but by the eyes of others. And therefore the presence of the King hath been always of more value than twenty thousand men.  
The Fifth said, That in this, as in all other moral Questions, 'tis impossible to give a definitive judgement, because things of this nature depend not upon certain and infallible causes (as natural things do) but upon free causes, which borrow their commendation or blame from the diversity of the circumstances of things, of time, place, persons, and other accidents; which being infinite, and consequently impossible to be known, have no other rule but that of Prudence assisted by experience. So that it cannot be determined absolutely whether the Chieftain of an Army ought to fight or not, but we must distinguish the different occasions which oblige him thereunto, or not. When he understands himself weaker than his enemy, and sees the courage of his Soldiers low, if he cannot avoid giving battle, he must animate his Soldiers by his own example; as also when he is obliged by some notable surprisal to lay all at stake; or when he undertakes such great matters, that otherwise he can never accomplish them; as when Alexander conquered the whole World, his Father Philip all Greece, and Caesar the Roman Empire. In every other case, 'tis imprudence, temerity and injustice, in a head of an Army to esteem his own life no more then that of a common Soldier. Yea 'tis greater courage to render himself inflexible in the exact and rigorous maintaining of his orders then to engage himself in fight. In doing which, he notoriously argues his conduct of weakness, since it hath suffered things to come to so ill a pass, that he is reduced to this extremity of hazarding the loss of his victory, which ordinarily follows the death of the General, and is much more prejudical to his Army then the example is profitable which he gives to those few that are about him, who are not always induced to imitate it. Like those Empirics who employ extreme remedies to common diseases, instead of reserving them only for the desperate.    

CONFERENCE LXII.  
I. Of Time. II. Whether 'tis best to overcome by open force, or otherwise.  

I. Of Time.  
EVery thing that hath existence hath a duration. If this duration hath neither beginning nor end, such as that of God is, 'tis called Eternity: if it hath a beginning, but no end, as that of the Heavens, Angels and rational Souls, 'tis called by the Latins Aevum; if it hath both beginning and end, as the duration of all material and sublunary things, 'tis called Time; which, although in the mouth of every one, is nevertheless difficult to understand, the Vulgar improperly attributing this name to the Heaven or the Air, saying, 'Tis a fair Time (or Wether) when the Air and Heaven are serene and clear. For although Time be inseparable from Heaven, yet 'tis as different from it as the effect is from its cause: And Pythagoras was deceived when he thought that Time was the Celestial Sphere; as well as Plato, who held it to be the conversion of that Sphere; and Democritus, the motion of every thing. Nevertheless, Heaven and Time may be conceived distinctly and a sunder, because Time is the duration of the World, the noblest part whereof is Heaven; and the effects of Time are not known to us but by the motion of the Heavens and the Stars, which make the Seasons, Years, Weeks, Days and Hours, with the difference of day and night.  
The Second said, That Time is a pure creature of our Fancy, and hath no real existence in Nature, since it hath no parts. For time passed is no more, the future is not yet; the present is but a moment, which cannot be part of time; since 'tis common to every part that being taken several times it composes and completes its total; which agrees not to a moment, a hundred thousand moments added together making but one moment, and therefore cannot make the least part of time, no more than an infinite number of points can make the least line, because it is not composed of points; as time is not composed of moments. For if you say Time is the flux of a moment, as a line is the flux of a point, this argues not the existence of Time, because a point leaves something behind it as it moves, but a moment doth not. Yea, if we believe Aristotle, a moment is not in Time. For either 'tis one moment, or many. If one, it will follow that what is done at present, and what a thousand years ago, were done at the same time, because in the same moment. If there be many moments in time, they must succeed one another, one perishing as the next arises, just as of the parts of time, the passed perishes to give birth to the future. But a moment cannot perish. For it must perish either in time, or in an instant. Not in time, for this is divisible, but an instant indivisible. Nor yet in an instant. For either that instant would be itself, and so it should be, and not be, together: or it would be the instant before it; which will not hold; because whilst that preceding instant exists, this other is not yet in being; or, lastly, 'twould be the instant after it, and then this instant would be gone before. Wherefore either Time is nothing at all, or else but an imaginary thing. And indeed it seems consentaneously called Number and Measure; because neither of these hath other existence then in the mind. For if you say, with some, that time is essential to things, you may as well say that the Ell is of the essence of the cloth which it measures, and number essential to the things numbered; so that, by this reckoning, Measure and Number should be of all sorts of Natures, because they are applied to all things.  
The Third said, That amongst real things some are momentary, being made and perishing in one and the same instant, which is the measure of their existence; others are perdurable, amongst which as there is something that hath always been, and shall always be; others that have not always been, yet shall always be; so there are some that have not been sometimes, and sometimes shall be no more. Again, of these latter, some have all their parts together; others have them one after another. The first are continuous, and their duration is their age; the second are successive, whose duration is time. For duration follows the existence of every thing as necessarily as existence follows essence. Existence is the term of production. Duration is the term of conservation. So that, to doubt whether there be such a real thing in Nature as Time, is to doubt of the duration and existence of every thing; although the Scripture should not assure us that God made the day and the night, which are parts of time. Moreover, the contrary reasons prove nothing, saving that time is not of the nature of continuous beings, but of successive, which consists in having no parts really present. This Time is defined, by the Philosopher. The Number of Motion according to its prior and posterior parts; that is to say, by means of time we know how long the motion lasted, when it begun, and when it ended. For being Number may serve for Measure, and Measure for number, therefore they are both taken for one and the same thing. Indeed, when a thing is moved, 'tis over some space; whose first parts answer to the first parts of motion, and the latter parts of the space to the latter parts of the motion, and from this succession of the latter parts of the motion to the former ariseth a duration, which is time, long or short, according to the slowness or quickness of this motion. And because by means of this duration we number and measure that of motions, and of all our actions, therefore it is called Number or Measure; although it be only a Propriety of Time to serve for a Measure, and no ways of its essence.  
The Fourth said, That to understand time, 'tis requisite to understand the motion, and two moments, one whereof was at the beginning of that motion, and the other at the end; and then to imagine the middle, or distance between those two extremes, which middle is Time. Therefore man alone being able to make comparison of those two extremes, only he of all animals understands and computes time. Hence they who wake out of a deep and long sleep think it but a small while since they first lay down to rest, because they took no notice of the intermediate motions, and think the moment wherein they fell asleep and that wherein they waked, is but one single moment. The same also happens to those who are so intent upon any action or contemplation, that they heed not the duration of motions. Now not only the motions of the body, but those of the mind are measured by time. Therefore, in the dark, he that should perceive no outward motion, not even in his own body, might yet conceive time by the duration of his soul's actions, his thoughts, desires, and other spiritual motion. And as Time is the Measure of Motion, so it is likewise of rest; since the reason of contraries is the same. And, consequently, motion and rest being the causes of all things, time, which is their duration, is also their universal cause.  
The Fifth said, That 'tis ordinary to men to attribute the effects whereof they know not the causes, to other known causes, though indeed they be nothing less; so they attribute misfortunes, losses, death, oblivion, and such other things, to Heaven, to Time, or to place, although they cannot be the causes thereof. Hence some certain days have been superstitiously accounted fortunate or unfortunate, as by the Persians the third and sixth of August, in regard of the losses which they had suffered upon those days; the first of April by Darius and the Carthaginians, because upon the same day he had lost a Battle to Alexander, and these were driven out of Sicily by Timoleon, who was always observed to have had some good fortune upon his birth day. Moreover, the Genethliacks affirm that the day of Nativity is always discriminated by some remarkable accident: for which they allege the example of Charles V. whose birth day, the 24th of February, was made remarkable to him by his election to the Empire, and the taking of Francis I. before Pavia. Such was also that day afterwards solemnised, in which Philip of Macedon received his three good tidings. But as there is no hour, much less day, but is signalised by some strange accidents, so there is not any but hath been both fortunate and unfortunate. As was that of Alexander's birth, who saw Diana's Temple at Ephesus burnt by Herostratus, and the Persians put wholly to the rout: Yet the same Alexander, as likewise Attalus, Pompey, and many others, died upon the day of their Nativity; so did Augustus upon that of his Inauguration. Wherefore 'tis no less ridiculous to refer all these accidents to Time, then to attribute to it the mutation, oblivion, and death of all things, whereof it is not the cause; although for this purpose Saturn was painted with a sickle in his hand, with which he hewed every thing down, and devoured his own children. For Time as well as Place being quantities, which are no ways active, they cannot be the causes of any things.  
The Sixth said, Time is diversely taken and distinguished according to the diversity of Professions. Historians divide it into the four Monarchies, of the Medes, the Persians, the Greeks, and the Romans, and the States and Empires which have succeeded them: The Church into Working-days and Festivals: the Lawyers into Terms and Vacations; the Naturalists consider them simply as a property of natural body; Astronomers, as an effect of Heaven; Physicians, as one of the principal circumstances of Diseases, which they divide into most acute, acute, and chronical or long, which exceed 40 days; and each of them into their beginning, augmentation, state and declination, as distinguished by the common, indicatory and critical days.   

II. Whether 'tis best to overcome by open force or otherwise.  
Upon the second Point it was said, That Force being that which first caused obedience and admiration in the world, the strongest having ever overmastered others; it cannot enter into comparison with a thing that passes for a Vice, and even amongst Women, as sleight and and subtlety doth; and crafts in any action otherwise glorious, greatly diminisheth its lustre. So Hercules is more esteemed for having slain the Nemaean Lion with his club, than Lysimachus for having taken away the life of another by dextrously thrusting his hand wrapped up in a piece of cloth into his opened throat, and so strangling him; of which no other reason can be given, but that the former killed him by his cunning, and the other by plain strength. Moreover, General things are made of Particular; duels and single fights, are little pictures of battles. Now every one knows what difference there is between him that overcomes his Enemy without any foul play, and another that makes use of some invention or artisice to get advantage of him. For though Duels are justly odious to all good men, yet he that hath behaved himself gallantly therein, even when he is overcome gains more Honour than he that by some fraud hath gotten the life of his Enemy. Indeed, the word Virtue coming from the Latin which, signifies Man, implies that to be virtuous, 'tis required to overcome as a Man, and leave tricks, sleights, and subtleties to Women, to supply their weakness; and yet Women too, when they see the masculine vigorous deportment, and feats of Arms of a Cavalier, that has won the victory over his Enemy, will prefer him before an other who hath had the same advantage without striking a blow. Whence it appears, that in all sort of Minds, Generosity and Courage finds more favour than subtlety.  
The Second said, That the Emblem of the Wind and the Sun, trying which should make the Traveller quit his Cloak, (attributing the mastery to the Sun above the Wind) shows that Force is not always the most efficacious. For he who aims to overcome must accomplish it by the most facile way; which being ordinarily the gentlest, because it finds least resistance, brings about its designs more easily than violence, which giving the Alarm makes every one stand upon his guard, and renders all erterprises dangerous. Therefore the wise General who commits his affairs to Chance as little as he can, assays all other means before he comes to open force; imitating a discreet Master of a Family, who never falls to blows either in his house, or out of it, so long as he hath any hope from ways of gentleness. Moreover, the means which peculiarly belong to Man ought to be preferred before those which are common to him with brutes; yea, in which they go beyond him. And you see that they are not the most strong and robust that command in Monarchies and States, but the most wise and prudent, whose bodies are commonly more weak through their great watchings and toils; and because these delicate bodies are more easy to be governed by the powers of the Soul, which consequently are more worthily exercised therein.  
The Third said, That Philip of Macedon had reason to compare subtlety to the Fox's skin, as force to the Lion's, saying, that the former was to be made use of when the latter happened to be too short. For he who employs subtlety in war, thereby acknowledges his weakness which made an old Captain say, when he was advised to set upon his Enemy in the night, That he would win, not steal a Victory. For he that is vanquished only by stratagem does not acknowledge himself worsted; and they who make use of wiles, when they think they have done, they are always to begin again; as the Barrators who by some subtlety have procured a Verdict are never secure against new Suits. So a little man, skilled in wrestling, may haply trip up his more sturdy Antagonist, and so be counted more dextrous or nimble, but not more strong than he. Moreover, since all actions take their rule from Justice, which cannot consist with fraud, he is not to be reputed a Conqueror that hath gotten a Victory unjustly.  
The Fourth said, That if we receive the judgement of the vanquished, the Victors are always faulty. Therefore it matters not by what means we defeat our Enemies, provided those means be lawful, and transgress not the maxim of Divines; That evil is not to be done to the end good may come of it. This premized, 'tis not only lawful for the chief of an Army, but perfectly his duty to deprive his Enemies of all advantages before the fight, in it, and afterward besieging places, defending them, or giving them relief. So Joshuah, to encourage the Israelites to make an invasion into the land of Canaan, caused Grapes of prodigious greatness which grew in that Country to be showed them in the Desert. Cato, to animate the Romans to the Carthaginian War, let fall in the Senate some of the large African Figgs, crying, that there were but three days sail from the place where they grew. An other, by letting loose a Hare from the walls of Thebes, thereby assured his Soldiers that they had to do only with cowards, since they suffered those Animals to come amongst them. M. Antonius, to exasperate the Romans against the murderers of Caesar, displayed his shirt to them all bloody. And Augustus, to convince them of ingratitude, published his Testament, true or fictitious; whereby he made those very murderers his heirs. Others, of whom Examples are infinite, by continual Alarms oblige their Enemies to watch and stand for some days in arms before the fight, to the end to tyre them out by those toils; they weaken them by delights, cut off their provisions, hinder their relief, raise false reports, and intercept Letters on purpose to abate their Courage, or that of their Allies. In the fight, they strive to give their Enemies the disadvantage of the wind, dust, smoke, and Sun in their faces; they possess the highest and most advantageous places, and drive them upon precipices, ditches, bogs, and other incommodious places; they let lose mad beasts upon them, as Elephants of old, to break their ranks, and strike terror into them; which others do also by their cries, words, arms, engines, and other uncouth inventions, the strangeness whereof making a great impression in their Minds, puts them into disorder. They make show of assailing them on one side, whilst on the other, where they are weakest, they give an assault in good earnest. Some have overcome them by their celerity, surprising them asleep, feasting, playing, or wearied; others, by a contrary stratagem, get the better of them by patience, undermining and consuming them by little and little. After the fight, when the Enemies are defeated, they hinder them from getting together again in a body. In brief, all the sleight and artifice that humane invention can imagine, to confound the counsels, and dissipate the forces of the Enemy, hath been in all times employed to that end; and they who have best practised the same, have gotten the name of great Captains. Therefore Virgil had reason to say, That it was not to be considered, whether fraud or force were to be used against an Enemy; but to conclude, both are successfully joined together.    

CONFERENCE LXIII.  
I. Of Motion. II. Of Custom.  

I. Of Motion.  
MOtion is considered variously in the Sciences. By Metaphysics, inasmuch as Entity is divided into Movable and immovable. By Natural Philosophy, as 'tis an internal propriety of a Natural Body. By Logic, so far as 'tis inseparable from Contrariety, whereof it treats amongst the Opposites. By Physic, as being comprehended amongst the six things not-natural. By Astronomy, as it is annexed to the Heavens, and by them is the cause of all those here below. By the Mechanics, as 'tis the Agent of all their Engines. And 'twere to be wished for the perfection of the Mathematics, that as some of them treat of continuous Quantity permanent; (as Geometry) others, of discrete Quantity, (as Arithmetic) considering them abstracted from their matter; so there were some that treated purely of the nature and properties of continuous Quantity successive, which is Motion. For the doctrine of Motion is so excellent, that by its help Philosophers guided only by the light of Nature have come to the knowledge of one Eternal God alone, and of the dependence that all beings have upon one sole cause; because every thing that is moved is moved by something else; otherwise, if it moved itself, it should make itself perfect; since every thing that moves gives perfection, and that which is moved receives the same. Now this cannot be, because then one and the same thing should at the same time be both Agent and Patient, have and not have perfection, be and not be; which is the greatest absurdity. Wherefore what ever is moved, 'tis moved by some other thing, and this by some other, till you come to a First Mover, who gives Motion to all things. For otherwise there would be a progress into infinity, which cannot be admitted into causes. Likewise, that all things depend upon a Supreme Cause is proved by Motion; because every thing that is moved depends upon that which moves it: Whereupon the Naturalists say, that it is united thereunto by a Contact either of the Suppositum, or of Virtue; and therefore all things being moved by that First Cause, depend wholly upon it, and are united to it. But as excellent things are most difficult, and commonly the clearest are assaulted by the strongest objections; so there have been some persons that have denied Motion, as Parmenides and Zeno, (although it hath as true existence as Nature which is the principle of it) because they could not answer the objections brought against it. Others, on the contrary, as Heraclitus, have conceived that all things are in continual Motion, although the same be never perceived by our Senses. But Aristotle, according to his wont, choosing the middle opinion, hath affirmed, That there are some things which always move; others, that always rest, and others that move and rest alternately. That which always rests is the First Mover; That which always moves, is the Heavens, whose never interrupted circular Motion comes very near infinity. Things which move and rest at times, are all other simple or compound bodies, in which the Motion is either natural, as in fire to mount upwards; or in violent, as in the same fire to descend downwards. Both which kinds of Motion admit of rest too; the natural, when the body hath found its centre; the violent, at the point of reflection, or when the virtue impressed upon it by the Agent ceases.  
The Second said, The incessant mutation made in all things, argues that there is no Rest; since Rest is the abiding of things in one and the same state, and nothing doth so. Nor is there any Motion, because if there were, it should be made in an Instant. But Nothing is changed in an Instant, being all Mutation presupposes two terms; one, From which, and another, To which; and there are no terms without a middle, or medium; nor can any thing pass from one term to another through a medium, but in time. That Motion must be made in an Instant, appears, because there is nothing between the last point of that which is to be changed, and the first of that which is changed. For in Local Motion, a stone begins to be moved at the same instant wherein it ceases to rest. There is therefore no intermediate space between its motion and its rest: And if two extremes which have no medium between them be together, than things which are together are in one and the same moment. This is yet further manifest in the other kinds of Motion. For in Generation there is nothing between Not-Being; and Being, and in Corruption nothing between Being and Not-Being. Otherwise, there should be something that exists and exists not; which is contrary to the first principle. In Alteration, as soon as the Air is illuminated the Darkness ceaseth, and there is nothing between them. In Accretion or Augmentation, the Body is still in its first quantity till it receive a greater; as likewise in Diminution 'tis always in the same magnitude, till it be reduced to a less. For we must beware of taking the dispositions or preparations to all these motions for the motions themselves.  
The Third said, 'Tis easier to say what Motion is not, than what it is; since the Philosopher tells us, that it hath more of Nonentity then of Entity. Wherefore being things cannot be known but so far as they are true, and they are not true but so far as they have Being, 'tis no wonder if Motion be one of the difficultest to be understood; and 'tis the more so, because we must not confound with the other things that accompany it, which are the Agent and Patient, their action and passion, it's two terms, the extent of place, time, and the subject wherein it is caused. Besides, every thing that is known, being so either by itself when it is real, or by some other when it is not such; Motion which partly is, and partly is not, can neither be known by itself, nor by some thing else; for it cannot be known by the Senses, nor, without their help, by the Intellect; there being in Motion a something before, and something after; and consequenly, a correspondence which falls not within cognizance of the Senses. Therefore, to supply this defect, the Philosophers have described Motion, (of itself insensible) by things that fall under sense, saying, that it is That which is included between the term From which, and the term To which; as the Physicians render the motions of life sensible by Dentition, Puberty, Stature, different colours of the Hair; in short, by the vigour and inclination of actions, and by such other sensible signs which notify the diversity of Ages: And the Astrologers, those of the Sun, and other Stars, by the houses of the Zodiac, their Oppositions and different Aspects; as also by the dispositions of the Air which make the diversity of our seasons; like those Travellers which distinguish the number of miles by Cities, Villages, Crosses, and other visible signs. Motion is therefore the passage from one term to the other. And so, not only when my hand slides from one side of this paper to the other, but also when of hot it becomes cold, there is made a Motion.   

II. Of Custom.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That Right is divided into written and not written; the former is the Laws, the second is Custom, which is of Right used of long time, established by little by the liking of every one, and approved by the tacit consent of the whole people; and therefore more grateful than Law, which never equally pleases all; and is oftimes formed in an instant: But Custom, taking root by time, is not established, except after long experiences. 'Tis of account among Physicians, that Hypocrates commands that regard be had to it as well to the age, the disease, the country, and the season; yea, he saith, that all things accustomed, (although bad) are yet less hurtful than those which are unusual, although better in themselves. Amongst Lawyer's nothing is so powerful as Custom, which makes us patiently endure things contrary to the equity and nature itself; such is the exclusion of the younger Children from a share of the inheritance, which amongst the Gentry of most Nations descends to the eldest. The variety of Custom makes some Nations prefer a supercilious gravity; others, familiarity and courtesy: Some are commendable for sobriety, others are notorious for drunkenness. Some people, as the Albanians, accounted it impious to speak of the dead; and amongst us, 'tis impiety not to think of them. Amongst the first, Egyptians, women went to the Tavern, and men spun at home; as amongst the Amazons, the women alone were Soldiers. The Lacedæmonians permitted Theft, provided it were committed dextrously. The Arrians, on the contrary, stoned the most petty Thiefs. Amongst the Babylonian Ladies she was held the most virtuous who prostituted her honour to most people, whereas nothing is so tenderly regarded among all other Nations. In brief, we are civil or uncivil, good or bad, foolish or wise, or any thing else, according to custom, which Erasmus calls the Monosyllable Tyrant, because 'tis termed Mos in Latin; a Tyrant, to whom he is so distasteful that doth not dress himself, make his reverences, and do every thing to obey it, that he passes for a fool in all the rest of his actions.  
The Second said, Custom bears such a sway over all the actions of men, that it renders all things familiar to them. The Understanding commonly embraces the falsehoods which it first imbibed, and rejects the truth (its proper object) whereunto it is not accustomed. The cause of which is, for that what the Intellect apprehends it so familiarizes to itself as to become conformable thereunto, and by the pattern thereof judges of all the rest thenceforward; yea of itself, which being become like to the thing apprehended cannot approve the contrary; every thing being pleased with its like. The Will, although free in all its actions, yet undergoes some sort of constraint, when it finds itself more inclined to persons of acquaintance then to unknown, though more accomplished. Moreover, we love rather by custom then by reason. Hence Mothers more tenderly affect their Children with whom they commonly converse more, than Fathers do; and Nurses more than some Mothers. As the Memory decays through want of being exercised, so experience shows us that the most certain Art of it is to cultivate it. Custom hath such a power over the Imagination, that those who think frequently of any thing, dream of it likewise when they are asleep. Amongst the outward Senses, is not the Sight dazzled when we come out of the dark into a bright place? as, on the other side, we see not a jot when we go out of the Sun into a very shady place; yet our eyes perform their office, being accustomed to both. Those who live near the Cataracts of Nile, the Artificers whose noise displeases us so much, and who dwell in Mills and Forges, are not disgusted with those clatters, and rest as sweetly without silence as others do with it. Neatherds, accustomed to breathe in Stables, swoon at the smell of perfumes. The mischief arising to Infants by changing their milk as well as the manner of living to all ages, and the diversity of tolerating pains according as people are hardened to them, or not, justify the power of custom over all our Senses. So that it is justly styled the Mistress of Man, stronger than Nature, which it altars and destroys, and is so powerful that it cannot be destroyed but by itself.  
The Third said, That Custom is less strong than Nature, being difficult to change only because 'tis some-ways like Nature. Hence 'tis easier to reclaim one that is vicious by custom then by nature; for this custom being a habit, the same actions which gave it being by their frequent repetition, destroy it likewise by their interruption. But Nature being radicated within us may indeed be encountered, but always holds out; yea, according to the Proverb, it returns although you drive it away with a fork. The melancholy person cannot so well play the Greek, and be jovial in company, as not to discover some token of that sad humour, amidst his greatest rejoicing. On the contrary, you will see sanguine humours which cannot counterfeit sadness even in matters that require it most. The choleric sometimes governs his passion well by reason; but he can never suppress the first motions of it, because they are not in our power; and therefore Philosophy rather masks, than amends nature. In fine, the Phlegmatic always appears slow and stupid in his most violent motions; on the contrary, custom is easily altered by a good resolution; as we see in abundance of holy and penitent souls, who forsaking the world, in an instant divest themselves of all their evil habits, and put on those of piety. And Socrates could by the precepts of Philosophy change his evil habits, not his natural inclinations, but that there appeared sufficient tokens thereof in his countenance, to justify the judgement of Zopyrus the Physiognomer.  
The Fourth said, We are beholden to custom, that every one abides in his own condition. 'Tis that which makes Seamen prefer the tempests at sea before rest at land, and the labourer despise the treasures of the East, for his cart. It made Caesar go bareheaded, although bald, in all the ardours of afric, and the coldest climates of the North. It arms the beggar to encounter with hunger, cold, and the other incommodities of the air. 'Tis from hence that we see slaves sell their liberty after they have received it from their Masters; they are so accustomed to live in chains. 'Tis this and not nature which lays shame upon the parts most necessary for conservation of the species: witness the punishment of some Indians upon such as have abused them; for they condemn them to cover them, whereas others wholly discover them; and these criminals account not themselves less punished hereby then those that here are pillory'd or carted; which also is not ignominious amongst us but by custom. It likewise exercises dominion over ceremonies and civilities, most whereof are so contrary to health and seemliness. It keeps the Mint where honour is coined; and that which is not registered there passes for error and clownishness. 'Tis this which causes men to kiss one another when they salute, whereas thirty years ago they retired backward with many reverences which denoted respect; yea it bears such an absolute rule over men's minds, that as the Greeks and Romans styled all Barbarians who followed not their laws and fashions, all the world n●w does the like still, judging ancient or foreign modes and usages ridiculous. We blame the manners of the Aethiopians and Chineses as they do ours; the visages of the people which most frighten us are best liked by them; and we fancy deformity with the same lineaments and colours wherewith they paint beauty. Those Americans who kill their old decrepit Parents, instead of believing themselves parricides, call us cruel for letting ours continue so long in the miseries of age. Infinite like instances have caused some to say, that 'tis another nature: but I hold it stronger than nature, since by it Mithridates rendered poison innoxious to himself, and some whole Nations of India live upon Toads, Lizards and Spiders. Yea it hath made death as lovely and desirable as life amongst great Nations; whereas Philosophy with all its pompous discourses hath laboured much to render the same indifferent to a few persons. 'Tis called by Pindar the Empress of the world, and caused Seneca to say, that we govern not ourselves by reason but by custom, accounting that most honest which is most practised; and error serves us for a law when it is become public. Lastly, 'tis stronger than the laws themselves, since it gives them all the power and authority which they have.  
The Fifth said, That Virtue itself is nothing but a custom. For we have it not by nature, as Plato holds in his Menander, because of those things which we have by nature, the faculties are found in us before the actions. So the power of seeing, hearing, and speaking, is in man before these acts; but we perform virtuous actions before we have the habit of virtue. Moreover, these virtues are for this reason called moral; because they are implanted by custom; and as an Architect learns his Art by frequent building, so by constant performance of acts of justice or courage men become just or courageous. Therefore the true way to become virtuous is to be accustomed to virtue from one's infancy; and hence Fathers are so careful to have their children well instructed, and to give them good examples. For being nothing but difficulty keeps men off from the practice of virtue; if this difficulty were removed by custom, which makes the hardest things easy, virtue which seems so knotty would be delightful, and pass into nature. And 'tis a token of perfect virtue when men take pleasure in exercising it.    

CONFERENCE LXIV.  
I. Of the Imagination. II. Which is most powerful, Hope or Fear.  

I. Of the Imagination.  
BEcause the knowledge of the present sufficed not for the preservation of animals, but required also that of the past and the future; therefore Nature hath made provision for the same, giving them not only five Outward Senses whereby they know their objects present (for every sensation is a sort of knowledge) but likewise a Common Sense to Distinguish those objects, an Imagination to represent the same to it when they are absent, and a Memory to preserve the Species. Now as, amongst the external Senses, those are exercised most perfectly whose organs are best disposed; so, amongst the internal, those are most vigorous which are found in a brain best tempered for their action. If its constitution be humid, than the Common Sense acts most perfectly; if dry, the Memory is most tenacious; if hot, the Fancy or Imagination is strongest. But if the temper of the same Brain be cold and dry, than Prudence reigns in it, as we see in old men, and melancholy persons. For 'tis more reasonable to say, that the Organ of these faculties is the whole Brain than any one part of it. And what is brought for proof of the contrary; that oftimes one of the faculties is hurt while the rest are entire (some having a sound Memory when their Imagination is depraved) argues not that they have different seats; but as the natural faculty in the whole Liver sometimes attracts but cannot retain, retains but cannot digest or separate excrements; so the animal faculty equally dispersed through the whole substance of the Brain, sometimes judges well of the difference of objects, acknowledges conveniences and disconveniences, receives the true species, but yet cannot retain them; on the contrary, the Memory will be sometimes entire although the Imagination be disordered, because the constitution which is then found in the whole Brain is fit for the exercise of one of those functions, not of the other. Moreover, it happens not unusually that those faculties are wounded, although the Ventricles assigned for their residence be not; as in the headache, or distemper of the Brain, and in Frenzies caused only by inflammation of the meanings without any laesion of the Ventricles.  
The Second said, That the Imagination is not distinct from the other faculties; but our soul resembles the Sun, which in the continuity of the same action hath different effects, not acting in the diaphanous parts of Heaven, refrigerating the middle region of the air, heating the lower, and again herein corrupting some bodies, producing and giving life to others: The conservation of the species and their reception not being two different actions; but rather as the wax by one and the same action receives a figure and retains it, so the Imagination which receives the species of objects must not be distinguished from itself when it preserves and retains them, unless by reason or mental discrimination, whereby we call Memory itself an action, although it be but the continuation and preservation of the first.  
The Third said, The effects of the Imagination are so marvellous, that most of those are ascribed to it whereof we can find no other reason. As, the likeness of Children to their Fathers, although they be only putatives; because the apprehension of disloyal Wives of being surprised by their Husbands makes them conceive them always present: the production of most Monsters, the marks imprinted upon the Child in the Womb, and the like. But that it is the Mistress of Reason and the Will, deserves most admiration. For the Soul imagining no danger, or proposing to itself a good greater than the mischief of the danger, carries the body upon the ridges of houses, upon ropes and breaches, even upon the mouths of Canons; makes some swim cross rivers asleep, who destroy and drown themselves, and are frighted where they have least cause; namely, when they awake or find themselves alone in the dark, so soon as their Fancy proposes some terrible object to them, how absurd soever it be. Wherefore they who desire to encourage Soldiers heat their Brains with Wine, which keeps their imagination from representing the danger to them: or raise some extraordinary boldness in them by generous discourses, whose new impressions drive their bodies upon dangers. Hence the Turks disorder the imagination of their Soldiers by Opium, the effect whereof in the quantity wherein they take it is contrary to that whereby it casts sick persons into a sleep in this climate. Reason never acquiesces in the propositions which our Imagination hath not apprehended as true; and therefore weak minds are less capable of relinquishing an error wherewith they have been imbued. Offences are not such, but so far as our fancy conceives them such. For a great hurt which we have received, if an excuse follow it, offends us not; whereas an indifferent word, a coldness, a gesture which we interpret for a scorn, even a privation of action, as neglect of a salutation, makes men go to the field. Yea all the professions of the world borrow their praise or their blame from Fancy. And who is there amongst us but would account it a grievance, and make great complaints, if that were imposed upon him by command which his fancy makes him extremely approve. The studious person rises in the night, to study; the amorous spends it in giving serenades; In brief, the Proverb, that saith, None are happy or unhappy but they who think themselves so, abundantly evidences the power of Imagination.  
The Fourth said, All Animals that have outward senses have also Imagination; which is a faculty of the sensitive soul enabling them to discriminate things agreeable from the contrary: Therefore those Philosophers who denied this power to Worms, Flies, and other infects, which they affirmed to be carried towards their good by chance, and not by any knowledge of it, besides their derogating from divine providence, were ignorant that the smallest animals cease not to have the same faculties as others, at least, confsed, as their Organs are, which contain the more marvels in that they serve to more several uses. Moreover, Experience shows us, that they well distinguish what is fit for them from what is not; yea they have their passions too; for choler leads the Bee to pursue the enemy that hath pillaged its hive; their providence, or forecast, since both that and the Pismire lay in their provisions, and observe a kind of policy among them, the former acknowledging a King; which they could not do without the help of Imagination, although the same be not so strong in them as in perfect animals: among whom even such as have no eyes, or want the use of them, as the Mole, are much inferior to others in Imagination, which is chiefly employed about the Images (whence it takes its name) whereof the sight supplies a greater quantity than all the other Senses. So that every animal, being naturally lead to its own good, needs an Imagination to conceive it such; but all have not Memory, which being given only to enable animals to find their abode again which they are obliged to quit for some time in quest of food; those who change not their residence, as Oysters, or which carry it with them, as Snails and Tortoises, have no need of it.  
The Fifth said, That the Imagination is a cognition different from that of sense; for it knows that which is not, but the Sense doth not; from Science and Intelligence, because these are always true, but that is sometimes true, sometimes false. Nevertheless, 'tis not opinion; because opinion produces a belief in us, which presupposes persuasion, and this is an effect of Reason whereof brutes are not possessed, although all of them have, more or less, some Imagination. It's object is of so great latitude that it goes beyond that of entity; since that which is not as well as that which is, the false as well as the true, are under its jurisdiction; for it composes, divides and runs over, all nature, and what is out of nature; herein almost like the Intellect, which owes all its highest notions to it, since it can know nothing without the phantasms of the Imagination, which, on the contrary, depends not any ways upon the Understanding in its operations.  
The Sixth said, The Imagination, although very active, and carried in a moment from the lowest stage of the world to its highest stories, and to those spaces which it fancies above the heavens, yet cannot comprehend where itself is lodged. But the quality of the Brain most proper for it, is heat. For besides its great activity, whereby it is necessarily allied to fire, the phanciful persons are most subject to burning Fevers, the choleric excel in this faculty, of which, on the contrary, the phlegmatic are worst provided. Whence, perhaps, Poets, who owe their best Verses to the Fancy, heighten the heat of their Brain by drinking the best liquors. Moreover, 'tis the strongest of all the Souls Faculties, and involves every thing here below. It disorders and quiets Nations, making them undertake wars and desire peace; it awakens and stills our passions; and as if nature were not powerful enough to produce all things necessary to the perfection of the world, it daily frames new ideas, and makes other worlds to its curiosity. 'Tis this that blinded him of whom Pliny speaks, who having dreamed in the night that he had lost his sight, found himself blind when he waked; 'tis this that gave a voice to Croesus' son which nature had denied him; which changed L. Cossutius from a woman into a man; which made horns grow out of the forehead of Cippus after his dreaming of the Oxen whom he had seen fight all the day before. In brief, 'tis this that made Gallus Vibius become foolish, by having mused too much upon the causes of folly. But it acts not only within both upon the body and the soul; it diffuses its power beyond its own mansion. For to it is attributed that wonder of the Tortoises and Ostriches which hatch their eggs by the sight; as also that of Hens, which breed Chickens according to the colours laid near their Nests, and sometimes of the shape of a Kite if they have been frighted by that bird whilst they were hatching. 'Tis also to the power of Imagination that what my Lord Bacon affirms is to be referred, namely, That it is dangerous to be beheld by our enviers in extreme joy, as 'tis reported that certain Scythian women murdered only with a single aspect; and possibly to this cause better than to any other the bleeding of a murdered body in the murderer's presence may be imputed, as also that the most vigorous have been found cold and impotent; and other effects, the cause whereof may be better referred to this Imagination, and the connexion and coherence of this cause with those effects demonstrated.   

II. Which is most powerful Hope or Fear.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That fear being of two sorts, one filial, mixed with respect proper to the ingenuous; the other servile, arising only from the consideration of punishment; it appears hence that fear is more effectual than hope; which is not often found but in good persons, whereas fear is found both in the wicked and the good. The Laws seem also to decide this question, there being none that encourages virtue to hope for any thing, but all infuse an abhorrence of crimes by the fear of punishments. Moreover, both the Indies would not suffice the least Commonwealth, if profitable rewards were to be given to every good action performed in it; and honourable recompenses being valued only for their rarity, would be no longer so if they came to be common. Therefore there is but one Treasurer of the Exchequer in office, but Judges, Counsellors, Archers and Sergeants innumerable. Moreover, there is always more to be feared then hoped. For he who hath an estate and honour may more easily lose them by the undermine of the wicked and envious, who are the greatest number, then obtain new by performing as much good as he will; either because they who are able to reward him are not always well informed thereof, or because they want both the means, and the will to do it. Therefore although God would have us hope for Paradise, yet he requires that we serve him in fear, and draw near to him with trembling. So that the thing we most hope for (eternal life) mixing our hope with fear, 'tis not credible that any other thing is exempt from it: Yet there are some fears without any hope. Now the passion which acts powerfully alone is stronger than that which acts only in the company of another.  
The Second said, That if the greatness of causes is to be judged by that of their effects, that Passion must be strongest which leads us to the greatest attempts. And so Hope will carry it above Fear, since 'tis that which makes a Soldier run up a breach, and which hath induced so many illustrious men, both ancient and modern, to generous actions; whereas, Fear by its coldness chilling the spirits, and penning them within, renders them incapable of any action. For all our actions depending on the dispositions of the spirits, the instruments of all motions both Internal and External; if these spirits be heated, active and nimble, as they are rendered by Hope, than the Mind is boldly carried to the most difficult actions. On the contrary, if they be cooled and fixed by Fear, than the soul finding herself enfeebled, can do nothing but what is mean and pusillanimous.  
The Third said, To examine the power of Hope and Fear aright, we must look upon them as two Champions, who are to encounter. But Fear already shows by the paleness of its Countenance, that it wants Heart, and yields to Hope, which animates itself to the pursuit of the good it aims at, by driving away all sort of Fear, which would cause apprehension of obstacles and crosses, opposing the enjoyment of that good. Moreover, Fear is contemptible, and not found but in abject spirits; whereas Hope resides in sublime souls, where it produces actions worthy of its grandeur and original, which is Heaven; towards which men naturally lift their eyes in their adversities; as Fear derives its original from below, towards which it depresses the bodies and minds of those whom it possesses: So that to compare Hope with Fear, is to put Heaven in parallel with Earth.  
The Fourth said, That both these Passions belong to the Irascible Appetite, both of them look to the future, and are employed to surmount the difficulties which are presented to the Concupiscible Appetite. Hope is the expectation of a good hard to be obtained, yet apprehended possible. It is found most frequently in young men, because they live only upon the future; and 'tis the Anchor of all unfortunate persons, none of which are out of Hope of being delivered from their miseries. 'Tis Physic to all our evils, never abandoning the most desperately sick so long as they breathe; Yea, 'tis the refuge of all mankind of what sex, age, or condition soever; herein the more miserable, in that being destitute of real good, there remains no more for them but imaginary and fantastic. Hence the Hebrews denote Hope and Folly by the same word, Chesel. The truth is, as if the evils that oppress us were not numerous enough, our souls frame and fancy infinite more through Fear; which dreads as well that which is not, as that which is; being properly the Expectation of an approaching evil which gives horror to our senses, and cannot easily be avoided. For men fear not the greatest evils, but those which are most contrary to their nature. Whence it is that they more apprehend the halter, the galleys, or infamy, then falling into vices, or losing the Grace of God. For although these be the greatest evils of the world, yet men do not acknowledge them such, but by a reflection of the Understanding. Hence also the wicked fear the wheel more than Hell; because God's punishments of sin are accounted slow, and those of men speedy. But to judge of the strength of Hope, and Fear, by their proper essence, we must consider that Good being much less delightful to Nature then Evil is painful and sensible, (because Good only gives a better being, Evil absolutely destroys being) Fear, which is the expectation of this Evil, is much more powerful than Hope, which is the expectation of that Good. Which appears further by its effects, far more violent than those of Hope; for it makes the Hair stand an end, and hath sometimes turned it white in one night; it makes the Countenance pale, the whole body quake and tremble, the Heart beat; and not only altars the whole habit of it, but perverts Reason, abolishes Reason and Memory, intercepts the use of Speech, and of all the Senses; so that it hath caused sudden death to divers persons. But Hope never gave life to any. Fear adds wings wherewith to avoid an Evil; Hope barely excites to move towards Good. In a word, Fear needs sometimes the whole strength of all the Virtues to repress its violence, and check its disorders.    

CONFERENCE LXV.  
I. Of the Intellect. II. Whether the Husband and Wife should be of the same humour.  

I. Of the Intellect.  
THe Intellect is a Faculty of the Soul, whereby we understand. For of the Faculties, some are without knowledge, as the natural, common to man and inanimate bodies, and the vegetative, which he hath in common with plants, namely, the powers of Nutrition, Accretion, and Generation; others are with the knowledge. And these (again) are either exercised without the use of Reason, as the Internal and External Senses; or else stand in need of Reason, as the Intellect, and the Rational Appetite, which is the Will; the former, to distinguish true from false; the latter, good from evil. Now as the Understanding acquires its notions from the inferior powers, so it imitates their manner of perception; and as sensible perception is passion, so is intellectual; and the intelligible species are received in the Intellect, after the same manner that the sensible are in the organs of the outward senses. For as their organs must be free from all the qualities whereof they are to judge; so must the Understanding which is to judge of every thing, be from all intelligible species; yea, more than the organs of the Senses. For the Crystalline humour of the Eye hath tangible qualities, the hand visible, because the former is not destinated to touch withal, nor the latter to see. But the Intellect being to understand every thing, because every thing is intelligible, must be wholly clear of all Anticipations; contrary to Plato's opinion, who admitting a Transmigration of souls, conceived that entering into other bodies, they carried with them the species of things which they had known before, but darkened and veiled with the clouds and humidities of the bodies which reclothed them; and these being dissipated by age, the species put forth themselves by little and little, as Characters engraven on wood or stone, covered over with wax, appear proportionably as it melts off. And therefore he termed all our knowledge a remembrance; but although he erred herein, yet reasoned better than Aristotle, who admitted the Metempsychosis, but denied the Reminiscence, both which are necessary consequents one of the other.  
The Second said, That the operations of the Intellect are so divine that not being able to believe the same could proceed from itself, it refers them to superiors. For it invents, disposes, meditates, examines, and considers the least differences; it compounds and divides every thing, apprehends simple terms, conjoins the subject and the attribute, affirms, denies, suspends its judgements, and alone of all the Faculties reflects upon itself; yea, by an action wholly divine produces a word. For as in speaking a word is produced by the mouth, so in understanding is formed the word of the Mind. Yet with this difference, that the former is a corporeal patible quality imprinted in the Air, and not the latter; for intellection is an immanent operation. Hence some have thought that all these divine actions were performed by God himself, whom they affirmed to be that Agent Intellect, which irradiating the phantasms, produces out of them the intelligible species which it presents to our Intellect. Others ascribed them to an Assisting Intelligence. Some to a particular genius. But as I deny not, that in supernatural cognitions God gives Faith, Hope, and Charity, and other supernatural gifts; in which case God may be said to be an Agent Intellect: I conceive also, that in natural and ordinary knowledge, of which alone we speak now, no concourse of God, other then universal, is to be imagined, whereby he preserves natural causes in their being, and does not desert them in their actions. ' This then the Understanding itself which performs what ever it thinks, surpasses its strength which it knows not sufficiently; and the Agent and Patient Intellect are but one, being distinguished only by reason. As it forms that species, 'tis called Agent; as it keeps and preserves them, Patient. For as the Light causes colours to be actually visible by illuminating them together with the Air, with their medium, so the Agent Intellect renders all things capable of being known, by illustrating the phantasms, separating them from the grossness of the matter, whereof they have some what when they are in the Imagination, and forming intelligible species of them. Otherwise, if these phantasms remained still in their materiality, the Understanding being spiritual could know nothing; since that which is sensible and material, remaining such, cannot act upon what is spiritual and immaterial. Besides, the species of the Fancy representing to us only the accidents of things, it was requisite that the Intellect, by its active virtue subliming and elevating those species to a more noble degree of being, should make them representative species of their own essence. Which it doth by abstraction of the individual properties of their subject from which it forms universal conceptions; which action is proper to the Intellect. This supreme Faculty being so noble that it ennobles all beings, rendering them like to itself.  
The Third said, That the Intellect is to the Soul such as the Soul is to the body which it perfectionates. And as it knows all corporeal things by the senses, so it knows incorporeal by itself. This Faculty serves for a medium and link, uniting all things to their first cause; and 'tis Homer's golden chain, or Jacob's ladder which reaches from Earth to Heaven, by which the Angels, that is, the species and most spiritual notions, ascend to the heaven of man, which is his brain, to inform him, and cause the spirits to descend from thence to reduce into practice the excellent inventions of the Understanding. Now as Reason discriminates men from brutes, so doth this Intellect men amongst themselves. And if we believe Trismegistus in his Pimander, God has given to all men ratiocination, but not Understanding, which he proposes for a reward to his favourites. Aristotle saith, 'tis the knowledge of indemonstrable principles and immaterial forms. Plato calls it, Truth; Philo the Jew, the chief part and torch of the Soul, the Master of the little world, as God is of the great, both the one and the other being diffused through the whole, without being mixed or comprehended in any part of it.  
The fourth said, That the humane is a substance wholly divine and immortal, since it hath no principle of corruption in itself, being most simple, and having no contrary out of itself: Eternal, since 'tis not in time but above time: Infinite, since its nature is no-wise limited, and is every thing that it understands, changing itself thereinto; not by a substantial mutation, but as the First Matter is united with the forms, remaining always the same Matter; the wax remaining entire receives all sort of figures: So the intellect is not really turned into the things which it understands, but only receives their species wherewith it is united so closely that it is therefore said to be like to them. As likewise, though it be called Patient when it receives them, 'tis not to be inferred that it is material, since these species are material, and acting upon the Intellect alter it not, but perfectionate it. Moreover, it hath this peculiarity, that the more excellent these species are, the more perfect it is rendered; whence after the highest things, it can as easily comprehend the less. An assured token of its incorruptibility, and difference from the senses, which are destroyed by the excellence of their objects. But as the soul being freed from the body hath nothing to do with sensitive knowledge, because than it ratiocinates no more, but beholds effects in their proper causes, commanding and obeying itself most perfectly, exempted from the importunity of the sensitive appetite: so while it is entangled in the body it receives some impressions resulting from the parts, humours and spirits destinated to its service being in some sort rendered like to them. So the soul of one born blind is ignorant of colours, the choleric are subject to frowardness, and the melancholy timorous, by reason of the blackness of that humour.  
The Fifth said, All actions of men depending on the temper; those of the Understanding, so long as it is entangled in the bonds of the body, are not free from it. For as that of Plants gives them the qualities proper to attract, concoct, and convert their aliments, and generate their like; and beasts having a temper suitable to their nature, are lead as soon as they come into the world to what is convenient for them without instruction: So men are lead of their own accord to divers things, according as their souls meet dispositions proper to certain actions; yea they are learned without ever having learned any thing, as appears in many frantic and distracted persons; amongst whom some, although ignorant, have been seen to make good Verses, others to discourse learnedly of the sublimest matters, some to speak languages, and tell things to come. Which may naturally proceed from the souls being capable of itself to know every thing (the past by help of the memory, the present by all the senses, and the future by the Understanding;) and meeting with a brain whose temperature is by disease rendered proper for such actions, the same being possible to befall it by such accidents as happens by age, which changing the temper of the body, is also the cause of the diversity of actions. Therefore children cannot perform the functions of the reasonable soul, because they are of a hot and moist temper, unapt for the actions of the actions of the Understanding, as, on the contrary, very fit for the actions of the vegetative and sensitive soul. So that if men were born cold and dry, they would come into the world perfectly wise and judicious; but because they acquire this temperature of brain only with time, therefore they are not knowing but with time.   

II. Whether the Husband and Wife should be of the same humour.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That it might be handled either physically or morally. If it be demanded, upon the former principles, whether the Husband and Wife should be of the same temper, 'tis answered, that as Nature hath distinguished the Sex, so she hath assigned to either its peculiar temperament; if a woman, which should be cold and moist, be hot and dry, she is unapt for generation, as the husband also is when, being ill qualified with hot and dry, he falls within the Law de Frigidis. But if it be questioned, morally, whether conformity of manners be more requisite to Matrimony then their diversity and difference; then, since diversity of actions is necessary in a family, the office of the husband being other then that of the wife, it seems they ought to be as different in manners as they are in the temper which produces such manners, and these the inclinations and actions.  
The Second said, Those Philosophers who held that the Male and Female were each but one part of man, which name is common to both, would have concluded for resemblance of humours and manners; for they said that either sought his other half till they found it. Which made the friendships so boasted of in passed ages, and so rare in this, and likewise marriages, of which they that take more notice find that but few married couples have no resemblance even in their countenance. Moreover, marriages being made in heaven, and the most considerable accidents of life, the same influence which makes the marriage of the husband must also make that of the wife: and if all actions here below borrow their force from the heavens, as Astrologers hold, the husband and wife having the same universal cause of so great and notable a change, whereon depends almost all the welfare and misery of either, cannot but resemble one another. And therefore those who resemble one another most will agree best with their universal cause, and consequently, the Stars will find less resistance to produce their effects upon them, and so they will live more sweetly than if by contrariety of manners they should do as the Traveller at sea, who walks in the ship contrary to its course, or who attempts to sail against wind and tide; or rather like those that draw several ways, whereby the cord is sooner broken then any advancement made of the load; so during this contrariety of manners nothing can go forward in the management of domestic affairs. Hence the Proverb, that we must eat many a bushel of Salt with a man before we choose him for a friend, is interpreted that by semblance of food a similitude of manners with him must be acquired: which if requisite between two friends, how much more between two married persons who ought not to have greater friends than they are one to the other; being in society of all the goods and all the evils of this life. Imagine one of a pleasant, the other of a melancholy humour, one loving company, the other solitude; the opposition of these contrary inclinations will render the presence of the one as insupportable to the other, as Music and Dancing are displeasing to a sad man, or tedious complaints for one dead are to him that is disposed to mirth. For by this disproportion the mind receives a check, which is very disagreeable to it. If one be young, and the other old; one handsome, the other deformed; one of an amorous complexion, and the other not; the mischiefs which follow thereupon are too common to be enumerated. If one be nimble and the other slow, the actions of the one will displease the other; whereas that which pleases being or appearing good, and nothing (next ourselves) being so acceptable to us as what resembles us; two persons who shall agree to do something, or not to do it, shall have peace and tranquillity of mind.  
The Third said, That in Oeconomy as well as Policy, there ought to be a harmony, which consists in diversity, and not in unisonance or identity, which is every where disagreeable and dull. This made Aristotle desire that the man were, at least, ten years elder than the woman, the disparity of age causing that of humours; and this makes the difference which is found between individuals, one of the greatest wonders of the world. Therefore the husband and wife ought to be unlike in their manners and actions, to the end either may keep their station, the one above, the other below, one command, the other obey. Moreover, the husband and wife that always agreed would have no matter to talk of. Be the man a great talker, and the woman too, the house will be always full of noise; on the contrary, the silence of the one will give place to the other's talkativeness, and excuse it. If both be knowing or skilful, they will not esteem one another; but if one admire the other, there will be greater love between them. If both be prodigal, they will quickly see the bottom of the bag; whereas the thriftiness of the one will make amends for the expensiveness of the other. If one be sad, the other being pleasant will divert him: if not, they will both fall into the excess either of sadness or joy. If one be profane, the party that is devout will convert him by good example. In brief, if one be severe, 'tis good that the other be gentle; if one be passionate, that the other be patient; otherwise the house will be always in an uproar.  
The Fourth said, If Justinian, or rather his Wife Theodora, had not abolished the laudable custom of divorcing wives, introduced by Spurius Carrilius, to abate their pride and malice; or, at least, if the wives of these times were of the humour of those Roman women who having displeased their husbands asked them pardon in the Temple of a Goddess, called for that reason Viriplaca, it would not require so much care to consider the conditions requisite to a happy wedlock. In which 'tis to be observed that both in nature and manners there are tempers of body, and habits of soul, absolutely good; others absolutely evil; and others indifferent, as the passions. The husband or wife whose body is of a perfect temper should seek for the like. For temperate added to temperate changeth not its temperature: Otherwise, 'tis fit that the defect of the one be amended by the excess of the other. For the production of man, being the noblest of all actions, requires a most perfect temperature of the four Elements in the seed of the two parents; which would not be, if both of them be hot and dry, or cold and moist. The virtuous must seek his like, the vicious his unlike, for there's no friendship among the wicked, the converse of Thiefs not deserving that name. As for the passions, and the manners commonly following them, 'tis fit that the husband have such as nature has most commonly given to men, and, consequently, that he be unlike to the wife, and she to her husband.    

CONFERENCE LXVI.  
I. Of Drunkenness. II. Of Dancing.  

I. Of Drunkenness.  
THe common saying, That the more excellent a thing is the more pernicious is its abuse, is verified, chiefly, in Wine, which is not only the best of all aliments, turning soon into our substance, making fewest excrements and most spirits, with which it hath great affinity; but also the most excellent and benign of all medicaments. For it so cheers and fortifies the heart that so long as a man is cupshot he is never invaded by the Pestilence, the Wine being his antidote and preservative. It tempers the natural coldness of the Brain, helps digestion, begets laudable blood, opens obstructions, attenuates gross humours, and gives a good habit to the whole body. But taken in excess it produces mischiefs without number; as the Palsy, Apoplexy, Epilepsy, Convulsions, Catarrhs, and such other cold Diseases; the natural heat being unable to overcome the actual coldness of the Wine in regard of its great quantity. Yet this were not much, if its disorders did not reach the soul, subverting its government, and clouding its beauty, defacing the character which it bears of the Deity, and hindering those excellent functions of the Intellect and the Will. So that Mnesitheus the Physician, with good reason, termed Wine the greatest benefit, and the greatest mischief of man. And therefore, as the Philosopher counselled such as were apt to fall into choler, to behold themselves in a Looking-glass, for so the deformity of their aspect would avert them from that vice: so he that is subject to be overcome with Wine must, like the Lacedæmonians, behold the turpitude of this vice in others, and so abhor it; for behold it in himself he cannot, because drunkenness prohibits him the use of the Senses.  
The Second said, Man being the most intemperate of all creatures has need of virtues to moderate his irregular appetites of nutrition and generation, which nature has seasoned with pleasure, as well as the other animal actions, whereof as the moderate use is agreeable to nature, so the excess is contrary to reason; which not enduring those gross and material pleasures of the Touch and Taste, employs Temperance to repress the former by Chastity, and the latter by Abstinence and Sobriety; the one as the rule for the eating, and the other for drinking; both of them placed between two extremes; although their defect be so rare that it hath not yet found a name amongst Philosophers. But the excess of eating is called Gluttony; that of Wine, Drunkenness. Now habitual Drunkenness (Ebriosity) is never to be tolerated; but Ebriety may sometimes, for health's sake, be allowed; yea every month, according to the Arabian Physicians, who maintain that it strengthens all the faculties, which a regular life renders drooping and languid. Whence also Hypocrates pronounces, in the end of his third Book of Diet, and elsewhere, that too exquisite a regiment of living is most dangerous; those that are accustomed to it being less able to endure any errors which they may occasionally commit in their course of Diet.  
The Third said, Drunkenness is a Laesion of the Animal Faculty, caused by the vapours of some alimentary liquor. For medicaments, or poisons swallowed down, cannot be said the cause of drunkenness; none ever having conceived that Socrates died drunk when he had taken the potion of Hemlock, though he had all the same symptoms which a drunken person hath: nor is every Laesion of the nobler faculties▪ Drunkenness; otherwise, the Phrenetick, Vertiginous, and such as are troubled with tremulation of their members, aught to be accounted drunk, their Reason, Memory, Imagination and Motion, being either depraved or abolished, like theirs who are intoxicated. But such Laesion is not caused by the fumes of Wine, which alone properly cause drunkenness; it deserves rather to be termed Alienation of the Mind, which may be caused by other vapours either internal or external, as by the smoke of Tobacco, the steam of a Cellar, or any place where new Wine is boiled, as also that of Char-coal, which killed the Emperor Jovinian. The Oil of Henbane-seed, as Pliny reports, being dropped into the ears causes the same trouble of judgement. Matslack and Opium cause the same disorder in the Turks that Darnel mingled with bread doth in our Peasants; and Baume, Frankincense, and the fruit called Anacardium mingled with food. Among Beasts, the Ass is inebriated with Hemlock; the Swine with Henbane or the husks of Grapes; all Fish with baits made of Oak-bark, coque de Levant (a small medicinal shell called Vnguis odoratus) yea, Aristotle saith, that Flies are inebriated with the smell of perfumes, which therefore they abhor so much, that the laying of some near their resort is enough to drive them away. Now drunkenness properly taken is caused by the hot and moist vapours of Wine, raised by the natural heat into the Brain, whose temperature they destroy by their heat (which renders the motions of the soul violent) spoil its structure by repletion of the Ventricles, distension of the membranes, humectation and obstruction of its Nerves. For Wine being hot and moist, and inebriating by those two qualities, 'tis therefore more uneasily born by hot or moist Brains. Hence, the choleric, children, women, and old men, are less able to withstand its violence, and are sooner overcome with it then those whose Brain is of a middle temper, between hot and moist; who are therefore said to have good Brains. For which reason stout drinking hath been so much esteemed by some Nations; and Cyrus found no better argument to evince himself worthier of command then his brother Artaxerxes, then that he was a better drinker. Moreover, Philip, Alexander, and Mithridates, counted it a glory to drink well; but Socrates, Plato, Xenocrates, and many other Sages of Antiquity, disdained not to carouse sometimes. And Homer speaking of the wise Hector, seldom forgets his great goblet. The Athenians had good drinking in such repute, that they established Magistrates, called Oenoptae, to preside at feasts, and give order that every one did reason to his companion.  
The Fourth said, According as heat or moisture predominate in Wine, so they imprint their footsteps upon our bodies. The signs of heat are nimbleness of action, anger, boldness, talking, ruddiness of the countenance, a pimpled Nose, Eyes twinkling and bordered about with scarlet. Those of humidity are slothfulness▪ numbness and heaviness of the head, tears without cause, softness and humidation of the Nerves, which makes the Drunkard reel and lisp; which effects nevertheless are different according to the qualities of the Wine and the Drinker's Brain. For if the streams of the Wine be hot and dry, and they be carried into a hot and dry Brain, or a small Head, they cause watchings, and render the man raging and furious. If they be more humid, as those of Wine tempered with water (which is held to intoxicate more than pure Wine, because the water assisted by that vehicle stays longer in the Brain) and the Brain be moist too, they cause sleep; and laughter, when the sanguine humour meets a more temperate Wine. For which variety of the effects of Wine, the ancients represented Bacchus mounted upon a Tiger, with a Lion, a Swine, and an Ape by his side.  
The Fifth said, That to drink fasting, or when one is hot, furthers intoxication, because the passages being opened by heat, more speedily attract the Wine, and its vapours are more easily lift up to the brain; as also when the stomach is empty, and the fumes of the Wine are not allayed by those of meat. But as drunkenness may be procured by several means, so there are others that preserve from it. Some make Wine utterly abhorred; as the water that distils from the Vine, the Eggs of an Owl, or Wine wherein Eels or green Frogs have been suffocated. Others repress its violence; as the Amethyst, (which derives its name from its effect) a sheep's lungs roasted, the powder of swallow's bills mingled with Myrrh; Saffron, bitter Almonds, Wormwood, Peach kernels, the Wine of Myrtle, Oil, Colworts and Cabbage; which preservatives were more in use among the Ancients who needed them more than we; their Wines being more vaporous and hurtful than ours: Witness Homer, who speaking of the Wine which Maron, Apollo's Priest, gave Ulysses, saith, he could not drink of it without tempering it with twenty times as much water as the strongest of our Wines can bear.  
The Sixth said, That Drunkenness, as vicious as it is, wants not its benefits. For besides, that 'tis the Anodyne wherewith all laborious people relieve their pains; it dispels cares, and loosens the Tongue. Whence Wine is called Lyaeus. Which made one of Philip's Soldiers say, when he was accused of having spoken ill of his Prince, That he should have spoken far worse of him, if he had not wanted more Wine. So that the Proverb may be more true, that Liberty (rather than Verity) is in Wine: And therefore some Lawyers advise, rather to inebriate such as are accused of a crime than put them to the rack; according to the example of Josephus, who by this means discovered a conspiracy laid against him by a Soldier, whom he disinherited indeed, but had not proof enough to convict him.   

II. Of Dancing.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That Harmony hath such power over the Soul, that it forces it to imitation. Whence those that hear an Air which they like cannot forbear to chant it softly, and sometimes it makes such impression in their Minds, that they cannot be rid of it when they would; as they experiment who fall asleep upon some pleasing song, for many times they awake repeating it. And because its powers delight not to be idle, therefore the Soul being moved stirs up the spirits, they the humours and the parts, constraining them to follow their bent and motion, which is called Dancing. This Dancing therefore is a part of Music, which leads our members according to the cadence of the notes of a voice or instrument. It imitates the manners, passions, and actions of men; and consequently, is of different species. But their principal division was anciently taken from their place and use. For either it was private, and served at marriages; or Theatral, which again was of three sorts; the the first grave and serious, practised in Tragedies; the other more free, in Comedies; and the third lascivious and dishonest, f●● Satyrs. The other differences relate to the Countries where they were in request, as the jonick; to their Authors, as the Pyrrick, invented by Pyrrhus the Son of Achilles, or by Pyrrichius the Lacedaemonian, to their subject; to the instrument whose eadence they follow; to what they imitate, as that which was called the Crane; lastly, to the habits and other things which were worn in dancing. The most ancient, as the easiest of all, was that which took its name from a net, whereto it resembles, which is our dance in round; of which Theseus' is made the Author, as well as of that in which the dancers intermix and pass under one another's arms, imitating by these turnings and windings those of the Labyrinth. But the Theatral, which the Mimes and Pantomimes represented in the Orchesters, were like those of our ballads, and expressed all gestures so well, that a King of Pontus liked nothing so much in Rome as one of these Mimes which he obtained of Nero to serve him for an interpreter to Ambassadors. For gestures have this above voices, that they are understood by all Nations, because they are the lively and natural images of things and actions; whereas the voice and writing are but signs by institution. And hence Dancing is very dangerous when it imitates dishonest things; for it makes the strongest impression upon the Mind.  
The Second said▪ That the God of Wine, surnamed by the Ancients Chorius, which signifies Dancer; argues the mutual relation of dancing and Wine. It hath always been in so great esteem amongst warlike people, that the Lacedæmonians and Thebans went to charge their Enemies with the music of Flutes and Oboes; and the former had a solemn day in which the old, the young, the middle-aged, danced in three companies, with this Ditty, We have been, we are, and we shall be brave fellows. The Athenians went so far as to honour Andronicus Caristius an excellent dancer with a statue, and to choose Phrynicus their King for having gracefully danced the Pyrrhic measures, which Scaliger boasts he had often danced before the Emperor Maximilian. Moreover, the Romans committed the charge thereof to their most sacred Pontiffs, whom they called Salij, that is, Lepers. Lucian, in the Treatise which he writ of it, ascribes the original of dancing to Heaven, since not only all the celestial bodies, but also the ocean, the hearts of living creatures, and other sublunary bodies imitate them, following the course of the first mover. And indeed, as if dancing had something of divine, it hath always been employed in Sacrifices and the holiest mysteries of Religion, not only by the Delians, who accompanied all their prayers with dancing; and the Indians who adored the Sun by dancing and imitating the course of that luminary; but also by the Prophet David before the Ark, and by Saul, who being full of the Spirit of God fell to dancing with the Children of the Prophets; as also did Miriam the sister of Moses, Judith when she had killed Holofernes, and infinite others, in testimony of their thanksgiving to God. The Muses themselves are painted by the Poets dancing about their fountain upon Mount Helicon; Apollo is called dancer by Pindar; and the Graces are represented dancing. Proteus, so celebrated by the Poets, became famous only by this Art, and which he so excelled, that his nimble in strange postures gave occasion to the fable of turning himself into all kind of shapes, because sometimes he counterfeited the fluidity of the water, sometimes the lightness of fire, the bending of trees, the rage of the Leopard, the cruelty of the Lion; and in brief, the nature of every sort of things.  
The Third said, That Dancing is composed of three parts, Motion, Gesture, and Indication. For there is first a stirring up and down, than a representing things by the Gestures of the Body, chiefly by the Hand; which Art is called Chironomy; and those which are expert in it, Chirosophers, that is, wise by the Hands. Hence Dancing is defined a motion of the Body, according to rule and number, imitating by gesture things or persons, either with singing or without. As Motion 'tis very delightful to Nature, which is as much pleased therein, as rest is disagreeable to it. Nor is it less so as it includes an harmonious proportion of measure, having this correspondence with Music, Poetry, Eloquence, Painting, Comedy, and all other Arts, whose end is the delight of man. But as it is an imitation it delights marvellously, we loving nothing so much as to imitate, or to see some thing imitated. Hence works of Art please us more than those of Nature; because Art doth nothing but imitate her. Besides its delightfulness, 'tis also profitable and honest. It's usefulness is sufficiently known to Physicians, who make it a part of their Gymnastick Physic, which treats of the exercises and motions prescribed in order to health, and is divided into Palestrical and Saltatory. Moreover, Galen affirms, that he cured many Patients by appointing them to dance, which is an exercise of all parts of the body; whereas walking exercises only the legs; riding, the intestines; bowling, the reins; going by ship, the stomach and brain. 'Tis also very honest or decorous, since it forms and fashions the body, giving it a good grace, one of the principal points of handsomeness. For the Soul having the Sciences to instruct the Understanding, and the Moral Virtues to rectify the Will; the body, its dear partner, needs some habit to regulate its defects, the rather because they have influence upon the Soul; it being very difficult for the motions of the Soul to be regular so long as those of the body are not. Therefore Plato, in the seventh book of his Laws, requires that the instructers of youth have equally care of the body and the soul, and for this purpose teach them Music to regulate the motions of the Soul, and dancing to frame those of the body, and give it gracefulness, as wrestling gives it strength.    

CONFERENCE LXVII.  
I. Of Death. II. Of the Will.  

I. Of Death.  
AS Being is the first and greatest good, because the foundation of all other goods, so (speaking absolutely upon a natural account) the first and greatest of all evils is the privation of that Being, which is Death; so terrible, that not only brutes abhor the sight of their dead fellows, through fear of the same death of which they behold an image of their carcases; but men likewise, although their name of Mortals be a token of the necessity of their dying, yet use all the vain attempts they can to avoid that death which they fear as the most terrible of terrble things. Yea, all their great and violent actions and passions, take their source from this fear; which is so much greater as the evil is phancy'd nearer: Whence old or sick persons have more apprehension of it then then those that are young and in health. The vulgar commonly labours only through fear of starving. A man that is decrepit, yet, is willing to part with a limb if he may by the loss respite his death, apprehended so terrible by some, that the fear of it has killed some criminals before execution, and carried others to such madness as to kill themselves for fear of dying. Nevertheless, he that shall consider Death more nearly, will find that, being but a privation, it is nothing; and that what we fear so much is only the way to this death, or the sequel of it; the former, in respect of irrational animals, and both in reference to man, who apprehends in the other life the judgement of the actions of this. Otherwise, Death being only a point and a moment, which hath neither quantity nor extent, but approaches to Nothing, hath therefore nothing in itself for which it ought to be feared. For so long as the Animal hath sense it is not dead; and so soon as 'tis dead, it hath no more. And because 'tis a motion and passage from Being to not Being, between which two there is no medium or middle; therefore 'tis a pure nothing, and consequently, hath no foundation saving in the troubled Fancy: Since upon due perpension of things, that which is not is no-wise to be feared, by those that are insensible, yea, that exist no more.  
The Second said, That to maintain Death to be nothing, is to accuse not only all men of folly in fearing what exists not, and consequently, is not capable of producing any effects or passions; but likewise, Nature of imprudence, in having imprinted this apprehension in all creatures for their preservation. As therefore Reason and Experience teach us that there are substantial generations; so the same show us the true and substantial corruptions of all compounds; which corruption, in a thing endued with life, is called Death, which is the separation of the Soul from the Body. For the Platonists are ridiculous when they make two kinds of this separation, namely, that of the Soul from the Body, which they call Ecstasy, and that of the Body from the Soul, which alone they say is to be called Death: For they are both one and the same thing; and Ecstasy is not a separation of essence, but of power, happening when the Soul is so glued to an object, in the contemplation whereof it employs all its powers, that there remains none for corporeal functions; the Eyes not perceiving what is then presented to them. Whence the Soul being more where it loves then where it lives, is also more where it understands. Now Death is either natural or violent. The former caused by the consumption of the radical moisture of plants and animals. For they alone are capable of dying, as they are of living; what they attribute to Fire, the Loadstone, and some other inanimates, being purely Metaphorical. Violent death is produced either by internal causes, as diseases, or by external. 'Tis caused by destroying the harmony of the parts and humours, which constituted life; after which destruction, the Soul not finding the organs longer meet for exercising its functions, (as Fire that wants unctuous and combustible humidity) forsakes its matter to retire into its own sphere. And though the corruption of one be the generation of another, there being no matter but hath always some form, as Bees are generated out of dead Oxen; yet there is this distinction, that the progress of a form less noble to one that is more, is called generation or life, as when an Egg is made a chick; but when this progress is made from a more noble form to a less, as from a man to a carcase, then 'tis called Corruption and Death, if the form preceding were vital. Thus all are ways of Death which lead to corruption. The first of these ways is life, for nothing comes under its Laws but is subject to those of Death, considering the ways that we die as we are borne, and that our end depends on our original; as there is no harmony but must end in discord, the latter note not being capable to accord with the first rest, which is the end or death of harmony; whereunto our life is not only compared, but may be fitly defined by it, that Galen, enlightened by Reason alone, conceived the Soul to be nothing else.  
The Third said, That only in the death of men there is a separation of the Soul from the Body; seeing that after the death of animals and plants there still remain faculties in their bodies which cannot depend on the sole mistion of the Elements, but must be referred to some internal principle, which can be no other than their Soul. Yet with this difference, that as during life these faculties were as forms in their matter, so after death they are as substances in their place, though without any activity, for want of necessary dispositions; which return afterwards by generation, or the action of the celestial bodies, producing worms and other animals, which come of themselves, and never but from a nature formerly animated, not receiving by this new generation any substantial form, but only making the Soul appear; which was kept as 'twere buried before this resuscitation. Thus the death of plants and beasts is the privation of their vegetative and sensitive actions, the principle of those actions always remaining, But that of men, besides this privation of their actions, causes the dissolution of the Soul from the Body, which is properly death. The inevitable necessity whereof is by Avicenna derived from four chief causes I. From the Air, which altars and dries us. II. From our own heat, which by accident destroys itself. III. The continual motion of our bodies furthers the dissipation of that heat. IV. The various Inclination of the Elements, some of which are carried upwards, others downwards, and so break the union which preserves our life. Albert the Great assigns a fifth cause, namely, the contrariety of forms and qualities; death happening when humidity hath given place to dryness. But because this excess of dryness might be corrected by its contrary, therefore the Moderns lay the fault upon the radical moisture. Which some of them say we receive from our Parents, and is continually impaired, without being at all recruited from the birth. But this is absurd; for then the Son must have infinitely less than his Father, because he receives but a very small portion, which (besides) cannot be distributed through a great body, nor afford supply to so many actions. Others, more probably, affirm, that the Humidum which is repaired is not of the same purity with that which we derive from the principles of our birth, by reason of reaction, and its being continually altered by our heat. But that which indubitates this reason, is, that the Elements do not maintain themselves but by reaction, notwithstanding which they cease not to be always in the same state; Fire as hot, Air as moist as ever it was: Inasmuch as the substantial forms expel all Qualities which are not suitable to themselves, and recover their natural ones, without other assistance. Moreover, when old men beget children, they communicate to them an excellent radical humidity, otherwise there would be no generation; and consequently, they can do as well for themselves as for their posterity. But if they give them such as is bad and corrupt, it follows that their children who live after their death re-produce much better by their nutrition then that which they had received; and, consequently, the radical humidity may not only be repaired, but meliorated. And there's no reason why an exact course of diet may not keep a man from dying, as the Chemist's promise. I had therefore rather say that as the union of the Soul with the Body is unknown to humane wit, so is their disunion; which I ascribe rather to the pleasure of the supreme Ruler, who causes us to abide sentinel as long as he thinks meet, then to any natural thing; which is the reason why those that deprive themselves of life are justly punished; because they dispose of what is not their own, although it seems to the vulgar that they do wrong to none but themselves, because 'tis by their own will and act.  
The Fourth said, What is composed of contraries, between which there is continual action, necessarily receives sundry changes and alterations in its being, which by degrees bring it to a total corruption. This is conspicuously seen in the life of man, the ages and all other mutations whereof are as so many steps towards death. 'Tis the most worthy employment of a man to consider that he dies every day. For, as Seneca saith, that which deceives us is, that we consider death as afar off; whereas a great part of it is already passed, for it already possesses all the time that we have been; which is the cause, that instead of employing our time profitably, we consume a great part of it in doing nothing, a greater part in doing ill, and all in doing other things than ought to be; which proceeds from not thinking often enough upon death; as which no Preacher is so powerful. For the fear it imprints in the soul virtue itself cannot wholly eradicate; the sole aspect of the shades of the dead, or their voices imprinting paleness upon the countenance of the most resolute. Therefore the Philosopher holds that the fear of death is not only compatible with courage, but that he who fears it not at all, rather deserves the name of mad then valiant.  
The Fifth said, That they who have had recourse to death to deliver themselves from their miseries, as Brutus, Cato, his daughter Portia, and some others, have showed thereby that death is not the most terrible thing, since they embraced it as a remedy to their misfortunes. But that which renders our experience as well as our reasoning weak in this matter, is, that none can give account of it either before or after trial; for while we live, it is not yet, and when it is, we are no longer. Nevertheless Plato, in his Timaeus, affirms that violent death caused by diseases or wounds is painful, but not that which comes of old age, which (he saith happens by dissolution of the triangles which retain the Soul in the Body. For the former being against nature is as troublesome to it, as the other which following the course of nature is agreeable to it; because the soul having finished its task begins now to resent some foretastes of beatitude; and hence it begins also to have some knowledge of future things. At least, this sort of death is very little sensible, being caused slowly and equally, and by consequence without pain. Yea, if it be true that the Heart is the last part that dies, the brain losing sense before the Heart cannot communicate the same to the whole body; which consequently feels not the pains of death, but those which lead to it, and which make their pangs more felt by those that bear up against them; by reason of the resistance of their strength, then when the strength is overcome and fails; whence those that have Apoplexies endure no pain during the course of their malady. And such as have been taken down half dead from the Gallows, agree that they endured nothing but fear. For which cause this kind of death is accounted very easy and without any sense; the brain being deprived thereof by compression of the Carotides, Arteries which carry the spirits to it, and become apoplectical by the quantity of blood which is included in it; as also the heart being stifled falls into deliquium, and the principal parts are deprived of sense by the constriction of the Nerves of the sixth pair. Those whom a Gangrene in the leg or arm (parts more sensible than those within) brings to their end, affirm that oftentimes death comes upon them without pain. Indeed, since life ends as it begins, and the soul goes out of the body after the same manner that it entered into it; therefore as, at its entrance, it first exercises the vegetative operations, afterwards the sensitive; so the vegetative faculty remains last, subsists in the dying creature when all the rest are extinct, and is lost without sense, in the same manner as in Plants. For the convulsive motions of dying persons argue not their having of sense, since those that are in an Epileptical fit suffer much greater without pain.   

II. Of the Will.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That every created thing having a tendency towards its chief natural good, hath also faculties whereby to attain the same. This chief good is the supreme perfection of its being. And because that of man consists in knowing truth, loving good, and being united by enjoyment to both the one and the other, he hath been likewise furnished with powers for this end; two, wherewith to know, and as many to love, according to the two sorts of goods whereof he is capable, as composed of a sensitive part and an intellectual. He knows sensible good by help of the Senses, which gust the same in its whole latitude, and honest good by the Understanding. He loves sensible good by the sensitive appetite, and honest good by the Will, which is a rational desire of good. For it loves not any good which hath not first been judged such by reason, which serves it in stead of eyes, being a blind faculty of itself, that is, without knowledge; whence they say, knowing must go before loving. And 'tis not necessary that this good be truly such of its own nature; if it be apprehended as such, this is sufficient to render it the object of our will. Nevertheless being good but in appearance it only takes the will for a while, but does not satiate it as honest good doth, towards which we have a natural inclination. Whence it is that such as have deviated from it, as soon as their understanding is rectified, resent an inward grief thereupon, which is that dictate of Reason called Synteresis.  
The Second said, That the Will is the mistress of all the animal powers, which it causes to operate and forbear as it pleases; exercising its dominion too over the Understanding, which it commands to take notice of, and contemplate, one object rather than another. Nevertheless as the pores subject to it are disserent, so is the empire distinct which it exercises over them. For that which it hath over the loco-motive faculty is a despotical empire, such as a Master hath over his servant; that which it hath over the sensitive appetite and other faculties, is Political, like that of a Magistrate over his fellow Citizens, who obey him so, that yet they forbear not to do many things without him and even against his will. The motions of the sensitive appetite being herein like those of the Celestial Spheres, which follow that of their superior Sphere, and nevertheless have a contrary one of their own. And this Appetite is carried not only to its particular object without the command of the Will; but also towards things wholly contrary to it; and this, for punishment of the sin whereby the will rebelling against God deserved that the appetite, at first subject to it, should become rebellious to it, destroying the agreeable harmony which appeared in the state of innocence. Which contrariety is the greater, in as much as the object of the will is honest, which is commonly difficult; and that of the sensitive appetite delectable: which two being opposite draw it several ways; and hence arise the conflicts of the flesh against the spirit, yea the same man at the same time, and for the same thing, feels contrary motions in himself; a certain evidence of their real difference.  
The Third said, 'Tis the Will alone that makes us happy or unhappy, since it makes us good or bad; and nothing is such unless it be voluntary and free. Hence it hath so great a power that it alone overrules the Stars which govern all; being capable of having inclinations contrary to theirs. It is known, as other faculties are, by its actions, which are either extrinsical, as commanding the animal faculties, or within itself, as willing or not willing, pursuing or aversion, joying or grieving. For the property of man being to know his end as such, if this end be good, he wills it; if evil, he wills it not; if absent, he pursues it; if present, he enjoys it: if the evil be absent, he averts from it; if present, he is afflicted by it. But before the will attain this end, it proposes, consults, and deliberates of the means to arrive thereunto, which it compares together in order to find which is most expedient, and is carried to the same with perfect freedom.    

CONFERENCE LXVIII.  
I. Of the Magnetical Cure of Diseases. II. Of Anger.  

I. Of the Magnetical cure of Diseases.  
'TIs requisite to agree upon the Facts before inquiry into Right. Now many Author's report that wounds have been cured by the sole application of a certain Unguent (which for this reason they call Armarium) to the instrument or offensive weapon that made it. And Goclenius, a Germane Physician, affirms that he saw a Swedish Lady cure one of her servants so, that had been hurt by a blow with a knife by his companion; and that this cure is very common, having been practised in presence of the Emperor Maximilian. Yea, that 'tis ordinary for the Peasants of his Country to cure hurts in their feet, by sticking the nails or thorns which made them in Lard or Bacon. Many Farriers cure pricked horses by digging up as much ground as their foot covered. Behold the ordinary composition of the aforesaid Ointment. Take an ounce of the unctuous matter that sticks on the inside of the Scull of one hanged and left in the air; let it be gathered when the Moon increases, and is in the Sign either of Pisces, Taurus or Libra, and as near as may be to Venus, of Mummy and man's blood yet warm, of each as much; of man's fat, two ounces; of Lin-seed-oyl, Turpentine, and Bole Armenick, of each two drams; mingle altogether in a Mortar, and keep the mixture in a long-necked glass well stopped. It must be made while the Sun is in the Sign Liura; and the Weapon must be anointed with it, beginning from that part which did the mischief; from the point to the hilt, if it be a thrust; and from the edge, if it be a cut or blow. Every morning the Patient must wash his hurt with his own Urine, or else with warm water, wiping away the pus which would hinder unition. The weapon must be swathed (as the wound uses to be) and kept in a temperate place. For otherwise, they say, the Patient will feel pain. If you would hasten the cure, the weapon must be dressed often; and if you doubt of the part which did the mischief, it must be dipped all over in unguent. If the hurt be small, 'twill be enough to dress the weapon every other day; washing the hurt every morning and evening. But this is not to be practised in wounds of the Arteries, Heart, Liver and Brain; because it would be to no purpose. Now by the nature of the ingredients and their conformity with us, their effect seems to be natural, and grounded upon the sympathy that there is between the blood issued from the wound and remaining on the weapon, and that which is left in the wounded body, so that the one communicates to the other what good or evil it receives, although it be separated from the whole. As they affirm that those whose leg or arm is cut off, endure great pains when those parts that were lop'd off corrupt in the earth. Which happens not, if they be carefully embalmed. So the Bee, the Viper, and the Scorpion, heal the hurts made by themselves. Of which no other reason is alleged, but this correspondence and similitude of the parts to their whole; the bond of which is very strong, although to us invisible.  
The Second said, There's no need of recurring to these superstitious remedies, since Nature of her own accord heals wounds, provided they be not in the noble parts, and be kept clean from the impurities generated in them through their weakness, which hinder unition; which is an effect of the natural Balsam of the blood; and therefore not to be attributed to those Chimerical inventions, which have no affinity with the cure whereunto they are entitled. For every natural agent is determined to a certain sphere of activity, beyond which it cannot act; so the fire burns what it touches, heats what approaches it, but acts not at any remote distance whatever. Moreover, time and place would in vain be accounted inseparable accidents from natural motions, if this device held good; considering that contact is requisite to every natural action, which is either Mathematical, when surfaces and extremities are together; or Physical, when the agents touch the Patients by some virtue that proceeds from them. Neither of which can be, unless the body which heals touches that which is healed. For all Medicinal effects being to be referred to Elementary qualities, there is none of them more active than heat; which being circumscribed within its bounds, even in the aliment of fire, can be no less elsewhere.  
The Third said, That the doctrine of the common Philosophy which teacheth that natural agents always touch one the other is erroneous, or else ill explained and dependent upon other false principles which attribute all actions to elementary qualities, which are taken for univocal causes, whereas themselves are but equivocal effects of other supreme causes, the first of which is Heaven. For when God created the world immediately with his own hands, he was pleased to commit the conduct of natural causes to the Heavens, that he might not be obliged to make every day new miracles, as were those of the Creation. For this end he filled them with spirits sufficient to inform all sorts of matters, whose mixture required some new form and change. This made the Philosopher say, that the Sun and Man beget Man; and Hermes, in his Smaragdine Table, that the things which are below are as those which are on high. And the Astrologers hold that there is nothing here below but hath some proper and peculiar Star, some of which appear, but far more appear not in the Heavens, in regard of their disproportion to our sight, or their near conjunction as in the milky way. But if the respective correspondencies of all the Celestial Bodies be not so clearly evident in other sublunary bodies as that of the Polestar is with the Loadstone, of dew with the Sun, of this and the Moon with the Heliotrope and Selenotrope, yet are they no less true. 'Tis credible therefore that the Weapon-salve hath such sympathy with the Constellation which is to make the cure of the wound, that by its magnetic virtue it attracts its influence from Heaven, and reunites it (as a Burning-glass doth the Sunbeams at as great distance) by which means it is derived to the instrument that made the wound, communicating its healing virtue to the same, as the Sun likewise communicates his heat to the earth, which heats us afterwards: and thus this instrument being endued with a sanative virtue communicates the same to the wound made by it; the cure of which, besides the form and connexion of the instrumental cause with the effect, is furthered by Nature, (which always tends to preserve itself) and the imagination of the wounded person (which induces Hypocrates to require that the Patient have hope and confidence in his Physician) for this (as its contrary ruins many by dejecting their strength) doth miracles towards a recovery. The contact above spoken of hath no difficulty, nor yet the objection why other wounded persons residing in some intermediate place between the anointed Instrument and the Patient are not rather cured than he; considering that the same thing is observed in the Loadstone, which draws not the wood or stone laid near it, but the Iron beyond them; and the Sun heats not the Sphere of the Moon, and the other Heavens, nor yet the two higher Regions of the air, but only ours cross that vast interval of cold and humid air; because he finds no congruency thereunto, besides the not reflection of his beams. Wherefore the contact of the anointed Javelin and the Wound may as well be called Physical as that of the Sun and us, which never stirs from his Sphere. Besides that we have examples of many contacts made without manifest mediums, as those of pestilential and contagious Fevers, of blear'd-eyes, of the Wolves aspect causing hoarseness, and the kill looks of the Basilisk. And indeed if you take away all cures that are wrought by occult and inexplicable means, there will be nothing admirable in Physic.  
The Fourth said, That in assigning the reason of effects, men ordinarily mistake that for a cause which is not so. The Rose is not cold because it is white, for the Red-rose is so too: Spurge is not hot because it hath a milky juice, for so have Lettuce, Eudive, etc. which are cold: Aloes is not hot because it is bitter, for Opium, which kills through its coldness, is of the same taste. They also erroneously attribute the cure of diseases to sympathy, to the power of characters, words, images, numbers, celestial figures, and such other things which have no activity at all: and most extraordinary cures are effects of the strength of the Mind, which is such that where it believes any thing firmly, it operates what it believes, and that with efficacy, provided, the subject on which it acts do not repugn. But if it comes to have a firm belief of the effect, than it follows far more easily. For if the understanding is identified with what it knows, why shall it not make things like to itself? To which firm belief I refer the magnetic cure of wounds, and not to that sympathy of the blood on the weapon with that in the veins; since if two parts of the same body be wounded, the healing of the one will not suffice to the healing of the other; and yet there's more sympathy between the parts of the same body animated with the same form than they have with a little extravasated blood which hath lost all the dispositions that it had like the whole mass.   

II. Of Anger.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That Nature has so provided for the contentment of animals that she has given them not only an appetite, to pursue good and avoid evil, when both may be done without difficulty; but also a different one, to give courage to the former, and to surmount the difficulties occurring in the pursuit of that good, and the eschewance of that evil, termed the Irascible appetite, from anger the strongest of its passions; which serves to check the pungency of grief, as fear and boldness come to the assistance of flight, and desire is guarded with hope and despair. This is the opinion of Plato, who makes three sorts of souls; one which reasons, another which covets, and the third which is displeased; the former of which he places in the Brain, the second in the Liver, and the last in the Heart. Anger then is a passion of the Irascible Appetite caused by the apprehension of a present evil which may be repelled, but with some difficulty. It's principle is the soul; its instrument the spirits; its matter the blood; its seat the heart, not the will, as Cardan erroneously conceived; for the actions of the will, not being organical, make no impressions or footsteps upon the body. It proceeds either from a temper of body hot and dry, and easy to be inflamed, or from the diversity of seasons, times, ages and sexes. Hence the choleric and young persons are more inclined to it then the phlegmatic and aged; because they have a temper more proper to this passion: Women and children are easily displeased through weakness of spirit; as 'tis a sign of a sublime spirit not to be troubled at any thing, but to believe that as every thing is below itself, so nothing is capable to hurt it. Which reason Aristotle made use of to appease the choler of Alexander, telling him that he ought never to be incensed against his inferiors, but only against his equals or superiors; and there being none that could equal, much less surpass him, he had no cause to fall into anger.  
The Second said, That the Faculties extending to contraries, the eye beholding both white and black, and the ear hearing all sort, of sounds, only the sensitive appetite is carried both to good and evil, whether accompanied with difficulties or not, as the will alone is carried towards all kind of good and evil. And as the same gravity inclines the stone towards its centre, and makes it divide the air and water which hinder it from arriving thither, so the sensitive appetite by one and the same action is carried to good, flees evil, and rises against the difficulties occurring in either. Thus anger and grief are in one sole appetite; yea anger is nothing but grief for an evil which may be repelled. For it hath no place when the offender is so potent that there is no hope of revenge upon him; although 'tis rare that a man esteems so low of himself as not to be able to get reason for a wrong done him, or apprehended to be done him; this passion, as all others, being excited by causes purely imaginary. Thus a single gesture, interpreted a contempt, offends more than a thrust with a sword by inadvertency. And this the more if the contemners be our inferiors, or obliged to respect us upon other accounts. Which makes the enmities between relations or friends irreconcilable. For as a good not foreseen rejoices more, so the injury of a friend displeases us far above one done us by our enemies, against whom he seemed to have some reason who implored not so often the aid of Heaven, (because he said Nature taught him to beware of them) as against his friends, because he did not distrust them.  
The Third said, Anger may be considered two ways, either according to its matter, or its form. In the former way 'tis defined an Ebullition of the blood about the Heart. In the latter, a desire, with grief, to be revenged for an injury done to himself, or his friends, whom a man is obliged to uphold; especially if they be too weak to avenge themselves. Injury consists either in deeds, or words, or gestures. The first is the most evident, and oftimes least sensible; for words offend more; because, being the image of thoughts, they show us the little esteem made of us. And as gesture is more expressive than words, so á contempt signified by it touches more to the quick than any other; because he that contemns us with a simple gesture accounts us unworthy of all the rest. Now if this contempt be offered in the presence of those that honour us, or by whom we desire to be valued and admired, it excites our choler the more if it be truth, which always displeases us when it tells our defects, especially by the mouth of our enemy. But none are so soon provoked as they that are desirous of some good. For then the least things incense; because desire being of an absent good cannot subsist with the least present evil (the object of anger) because of their contrariety, importuning the actions of the soul, which is troubled in the pursuit of good by the presence of evil. Whence, saith Aristotle, there needs but a small matter to anger Lovers, sick people, indigent, those that miscarry in their affairs, and are excruciated with hunger or thirst. 'Tis therefore an error to say, that choler is the cause of anger, and 'tis vain to purge this humour in order to remedy this passion, since the cause is external, not internal; and is formed first in the brain by the imagination of an injury received; after which the Soul, desirous of revenge, stirs the motive power; this the blood and spirits, which cause all the disorders observed in angry persons.  
The Fourth said, That disorders caused by Anger are not to be wondered at, since 'tis composed of the most unruly passions, love, hatred, grief, pleasure, hope and boldness. For the source of anger is self-love; we hate him that doth the injury, we are troubled at the offence, and receive contentment in the hope of being revenged; and this hope gives boldness. Now Anger is one of the most deformed and monstrous passions, so violent that it enervates not only the contractive motion of the Heart by dilating it too much, and sending forth the blood and spirits, (which cause an extraordinary heat, and force in all the members, and sometimes a Fever;) but also that of dilation by shutting it too much, in case the grief for the evil present be great, and there be hopes of revenging it. The Countenance looks pale, afterwards red, the Eye sparkles, the Voice trembles, the Pulse beats with violence, the Hair becomes stiff, the Mouth foams, the Teeth clash, the Hand cannot hold, the Mind is no longer in its own power, but is besides itself for some time; Anger not differing from Rage but in duration. Which made a Philosopher tell his servant, That he would chastise him were he not in Anger: And the Emperor Theodosius commanded his Officers never to execute any, by his command, till after three days; and the Philosophers Xenodorus to counsel Augustus, not to execute any thing when he found himself in choler, till after he had repeated softly the twenty four letters of the Greek Alphabet. The truth is, if this passion be not repressed, it transports a man so out of himself, that he is incensed not against men only, but even against beasts, plants, and inanimate things; such was Ctesiphon, who in great fury fell to kicking with a mule; and Xerxes, who scourged the Sea. Yea, it reduces men to such brutality, that they fear not to lose themselves for ever, so they may but be revenged of those that have offended them; as Porphyry and Tertullian did, the former renouncing Christianity, and the other embracing Montanus' Heresy, to revenge themselves of some wrong which they conceived they had received from the Catholics. And our damnable Duels, caused by this passion, have oftentimes to satisfy the revenge of one, destroyed two, Body and Soul.    

CONFERENCE LXIX.  
I. Of Life. II. Of Fasting.  

I. Of Life.  
THe more common a thing is, the more difficult it is to speak well of it; witness sensible objects, the nature whereof is much in the dark to us, although they always present themselves to our senses. Thus nothing is more easy then to discern what is alive from what is not; and yet nothing is more difficult then to explicate the nature of Life well, because 'tis the union of a most perfect form with its matter, into which the mind of man sees not a jot; even that of accidents with their subject being unknown, although it be not so difficult to conceive as the first. Some have thought that the form which gives life is not substantial but only accidental, because all (except the rational) arise from the Elementary Qualities, and accidents can produce nothing but accidents. But they are mistaken, since whereas nothing acts beyond its strength, if those forms were accidents, they could not be the causes of such marvellous and different effects, as to make the fruits of the Vine, Figtree, etc. and blood in Animals; to attract, retain, concoct, expel, and exercise all the functions of the Soul; which cannot proceed from heat alone, or any other material quality. Besides, if the forms of animated bodies were accidents, it will follow that substance (which is compounded of Form as well as of Matter) is made of accidents; and consequently, of that which is not substance, contrary to the received Axiom. Therefore Vital Forms are substances, though incomplete, whose original is Heaven, the Author of Life and all sublunary actions.  
The Second said, That the Soul being the principle of Life; according to the three sorts of Souls, there are three sorts of Life, namely, the Vegetative, Sensitive, and Rational; differing according to several sublimations of the matter. For the actions of attracting and assimilating food, and the others belonging to Plants, being above those of stones and other inanimate things, argue in them a principle of those actions, which is the Vegetative Soul. Those of moving, perceiving, imagining, and remembering, yet nobler than the former, flow from the Sensitive Soul. But because the actions of the Intellect and the Will are not only above the matter, but are not so much as in the matter, (as those of Plants and Animals) being immanent, and preserved by the same powers that produced them, they acknowledge for their principle a form more noble than the rest, which is the Rational Soul, the life of which is more perfect. And as the Plantal Life is the first and commonest, so it gives the most infallible vital tokens, which are nutrition, growth, and generation. Now that all three be in all living bodies: For Mushrooms live but propagate not; as some things propagate, yet are not alive; so bulls blood buried in a dunghill produces worms; others are nourished but grow not, as most Animals when they have attained their just stature; yea, not every thing that lives is nourished; for House-leek continues a whole year in its verdure and vivacity being hung at the ceiling: Nor does every thing grow alike, for we see Dodder, which resembles Epithymum, clinging to a bunch of grapes, or other fruit hanging in the Air, grows prodigiously without drawing any nourishment from it or elsewhere. Whereby it appears that there is no Rule but has its exception, since Nature which gives the same to all things, oftentimes dispenses with herself.  
The Third said, The Soul is the act of an Organnical Body endued with Life, and the principle of vegetation, sense, and motion; according to Aristotle, an Intellective or continual motion; according to Plato, a Number moving it. And consequently, Life is nothing but motion; and a thing may be said to be alive when it is able to move itself by any kind of motion, whether of generation or corruption, accretion or diminution, local motion or alteration. For the most evident sign of Life is selfmotion. Whence we call such, Living Waters, which flow; and those dead, which stand still; although improperly, because this motion is extrinsical to them, namely, from their source, and the declivity of the earth. The Pythagoreans therefore believed the Heaven animated, because it is moved according to all the differences of place; and that this Animal is nourished with the Air which it draws out of the spaces which we call Imaginary. Now as powers are known, so they are distinguished by their actions. So that the perfecter the motion is which denotes Life, the perfecter the Life is. Therefore, as Oysters and other imperfect Animals, endued with sense, enjoy a nobler life than plants, which only vegetate; so they are inferior to other perfect Animals, which besides sense have progressive motion; and these, again, the slower and more impedite their motion is, the more they yield in dignity to others; as the Snail to the Dog and Hare. In brief, these are less noble than Man, whose Soul is moved after a more admirable manner; and who hath the faculty of Understanding, the most perfect of all; which being found in God in a far higher degree, because it constitutes his whole essence, being and Understanding (being in him one and the same thing) he hath the most perfect life of all. Which is the cause why our Lord saith, that he is the Life. Moreover, as the First Matter, which is the lowest of all things that are, (if it may be said to be) hath need iof all; so the sublimest of all things, God, hath need of nothing, but includes in himself all perfections, the chiefest of which is Life, which all Creatures enjoy only by participation from him.  
The Fourth said, Life is a continual action of Heat upon humidity, the periods whereof are distinguished by the several effects of this heat, to wit, the alterations of temper, and diversity of ages. For 'tis Physically as well as Morally true, which Job saith, that our life is a warfare upon the earth, since a thing is not accounted living unless so far as it acts, Death being the privation of actions; and there is no action but between contrary qualities, of which heat and moisture are the foundation of life, as cold and siccity are the concomitants of death, old age which leads us thither being also cold and dry. Hence they are the longest lived who have most heat, as Males then Females; terrestrial animals than Fish, those which have blood then those which have not. As also those that abound with this humidity live long, provided it have the qualities requisite, namely, be fat, aerious, and not aqueous or excrementitious, because otherwise it easily cools and congeals, and by that means incongruous to life.  
The Fifth said, That heat being the most noble and active of all qualities executes all the functions of life, when it meets with organs and dispositions suitable thereunto. This heat must be in act, and not only in power, such as that of Lime and Pepper is. And though it be not so sensible in plants, yet it ceases not to be actually in them so long as they are alive, and to digest and assimilate the aliments which it draws for them out of the earth ready prepared; whence they have no excrements as animals have. With whom nevertheless they have so great resemblance that Plato, in his Timaeus, saith, that Plants are tanquam animala; and Pythagoras conceived them to be informed with the souls of some men, who having lived in the world without exercising other actions than those of the vegetative life, addicting themselves to nothing but to feed and generate, are condemned to pass into the bodies of Plants; as the souls of those who have lead a brutish life are relegated into those of Swine, Tigers, Lions, and other brutes whose manners they had imitated. Empedocles and Anaxagoras, as Aristotle reports, attributed to Plants a perception of pain and pleasure. Moreover, they have not only their maladies, old age and death, as animals have, but some too have differences of sex, and local motion, as 'tis observed of certain Palms which bend towards one another; and of divers other Plants which recoil from those that are contrary to them, and grow best near others.  
The Sixth said, Life is nothing but the union of the soul with the body; which requires a fitting temperature and conformation; from whence afterwards proceed all actions and motions both internal and external. Wherefore life is not an action of an action; (which is absurd) but hath its own actions. Nor is it the action of the soul; for then the body could not be said to live. But 'tis the act of the soul in the body; which being finite and terminated, as heat its principal instrument is, this is the cause that all living bodies have the terms or bounds of their quantity, both as to greatness and smallness; but bodies inanimate have not so, because they acquire their quantity only by the approximation and apposition of their matter, and not by receiving the same inwardly; and because they have no organs which require a certain conformation and magnitude which they never exceed.   

II. Of Fasting.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That there are many sorts of corporal Fasts (not to speak of the spiritual, which is abstinence from sin.) There is one of necessity, and the most intolerable of all, which made the ancient Poets declaim against Poverty, saying that it was to be cast into the sea against the rocks; and which made so few Cynics, in respect of so many other Sects of Philosophers. Against which evil there is no other remedy, but to make that voluntary which cannot be avoided. There are fasts of thrift for the Covetous; and others of Policy▪ observed in many States to good purpose, lest the Country be desolated of Cattle; and would be, should men eat eggs and flesh in the beginning of the Spring, when Fowls hatch and Beasts engender, at which time the flesh of animals is unwholesome because they begin then to enter into heat. There is a fast of Health, ordained by Physicians to such as are full-bodied, and abound with ill humours; this is the best liked of all; nothing being undertaken so willingly as for health, whereunto moderate fasting greatly conduces, as well to preserve it, (according to the Proverb, that Gormandise hath slain more than the Sword) as recover it, according to the advice of the Arabians, and other Physicians, who all acknowledge intemperance for their best friend, and are wont to prescribe Diet in the first place, to which belong primarily Fasting, than Medicaments, and, lastly, Cauteries. There is also a moral fast, which is a virtue which in eating observes a measure suitable to nature, and right reason, for the taming of the sensual appetite, and increasing the vigour of mind, which is enervated by plenty of meats. A virtue which S. Austin calls the keeper of the memory and Judgement, Mistress of the Mind, Nurse of Learning and Knowledge. But the Fast of Religion is the most excellent of all, because it refers immediately to God, who by this means is satisfied for sins; because it abates the lust of the flesh, and raises the spirit to contemplation of sublime things, purifying the soul, and subduing the flesh to the spirit; but particularly that of Lent, whose sutableness is manifest, in that this time is the tenth part of the year, which we offer to God, as from all antiquity the tenths of every thing were dedicated to him. Moreover, 'tis observed that Moses and Elias who fasted forty days (the longest fast mentioned in Scripture) merited to be present at our Lord's Transfiguration.  
The Second said, Fasting is an abstinence from food, as to quantity or quality. As to the first, some have abstained long from all kind of food, as Histories assure us; and Pliny tells of the Astomis, a people of India near the River Ganges, who have no mouths, but live only upon smells. But 'tis abstinence too when we eat little and soberly, and only so much as is needful for support of life; such as were the abstinences of the Persians and the Lacedæmonians, with whom it was a shameful thing to belch, or blow the Nose; these being signs of having taken more food than nature is able to digest. The Gymnosophists, Magis, and brahmin's, rigorously observed these fasts. In quality, we abstain from some certain meats. Thus the Jews abstained from all animals except such as chewed the Cud, and were cloven hoofed. And amongst them the Nazarites were forbidden by God to drink Wine or any inebriating liquor; as the Essceans, a Sect of monastics, besides Wine, abstained from flesh and women. Pythagoras' abhorred Beans as much as he loved Figs, either because the first were used in condemning criminals, or because they excited lust by their flatuosity. None of this Sect touched fish, out of reverence to the silence of this animal; and they made conscience of killing other creatures in regard of their resemblance with us. which was also observed by the first men before the Flood for 2000 years together; the Law of Nature, which then bore sway, making the same abhorred. But this fast is much harder in our diversity of fare then when only Acorns served for food to our first Fathers; when the Athenians lived of Figs alone, the Argians and Tirynthians of pears, the Medes of Almonds, the Aethiopians of Shrimps, and the fruits of Reeds, the Persians of Cardamomes, the Babylonians of Dates, the Egyptians of Lote, as the Icthyophagi of Fish; of which dried and ground to powder many Barbarians make bread at this day, and their meat of the fresh. For in those days people lived not to eat, as many do in these luxurious times, but eat to live.  
The Third said, That fasting is as contrary to the health of the body as conducive to that of the mind. The best temper, which is hot and moist, is an enemy to the souls operations, which require a temper cold and dry; which is acquired by fasting: hence choler, being hot and dry, gives dexterity and vivacity; blood, hot and moist, renders men foolish and stupid; and the cold and dry melancholy humour is the cause of prudence. But this is to be understood of fasting, whereby less food is taken then nature is able to assimilate, not of that which observes a mediocrity, always commendable, and good for health. Moreover, the right end of fasting is to afflict and macerate that body by abstaining from the aliments which it naturally desires. But as in drinking and eating, so in abstinence from either there is no certain rule; but regard must be had to the nature of the aliments, some of which are more nutritive than others; to that of the body, to the season, custom, exercises, and other circumstances; so they who eat plentifully of ill-nourishing meats, or whose stomaches and livers are very large and hot, or who are accustomed to eat much, will fast longer than those that eat little, but of good juice, or who have not much heat, and use but little exercise. Growing persons, as children, though plentiful feeders, yet oftentimes will fast more than those that eat less. In Winter and Spring, when the bowels are hotter, and sleep longer, fasting is more insupportable, because the natural heat being now stronger than in Summer and Autumn, consumes more nourishment. Wherefore, only discretion can prescribe rules for fasting. If it be for health, so much must be given Nature as she requires, and no more; the first precept of Hypocrates for health, being, Never to satiate one's self with food. If 'tis intended to purge the soul, then 'tis requisite to deny something to nature; the sucking which is felt in the stomach serving to admonish reason of the right use of abstinence. For temperance must not be turned into murder, and fasting only macerate, not destroy the body.  
The Fourth said, That by fasting Socrates preserved himself from the Plague, against which we are erroneously taught to make repletion an Antidote: when 'tis manifest man's fasting spittle is found to be an enemy to poisons, to kill Vipers, and mortify Quicksilver. Moreover, we may impute the false consequence which is drawn from the true Aphorism of Hypocrates (That Eunuches, Women and Children, never have the Gout) and the production of so many modern diseases to gluttony, and the frequency of meals; our forefathers being so well satisfied with one, that Plato wondered how the Sicilians could eat twice a day.    

CONFERENCE LXX.  
I. Of Climacterical Years. II. Of Shame.  

I. Of Climacterical Years.  
MAn's life is a Comedy, whereof the Theatre or Stage is the World, Men the Actors, and God the Moderator, who ends the Play, and draws the Curtain when it seems good to him. When 'tis played to the end, it hath five Acts, Infancy or Childhood, Adolescence, Virility, or Manhood, consisting of middle age, and old age; each of 14 years, which multiplied by 5 make 70 years, the term assigned to humane life by the Royal Prophet. These acts are divided into two Scenes, of as many septenaries, in either of which considerable alterations both in body, goods and mind, also, are observed to come to pass. For seeing many persons incur great accidents at one certain number of years rather than another; and if they scape death, fall again into other dangers at certain times, and so from one degree to another, till they be come to the last step of the Ladder which is called Climax by the Greeks; hence the name of Climacterical comes to be given to the years at which these changes are observed. The most general opinion refers them to that number of seven; though some have attributed them to the ninth, others, to every other second year; but especially to the product of the one multiplied by the other, which is sixty three, composed of nine times seven, or seven times nine; and therefore the most dangerous. For seven and nine, as Fermicus Maternus saith, being very pernicious of themselves, their malignity is conjoined in that number of sixty three, called upon this account the grand Climacterical; as 7, 14, 21, 28, 35, 41, 49. (very considerable amongst them for being the square of seven) and 56. are called less Climactericals'; but 126. the greatest Climacterical of all, because it contains the grand one twice, being composed of eighteen Septenaries. Now all these Climactericals' are called Hebdomaticks, because they go upon seven, as those which are counted by nine are called Enneaticks, amongst which the less are 9, 18, 27, 36, 45, and 54, the grand one is again 63, made also of nine multiplied by seven; the rest are 72, 81, (very notable too, for being the square of nine) 90, 99, and so to the greatest Climaterical 126, made of twice nine Septenaries. Amongst all which year 'tis further observed, that those are the most dangerous which ascend either by three weeks, or three novenaries of years, as, 21, 42, 63, in the Hebdomaticks; and 27, 54, 81, in the Ennecaticks.  
The Second said, That as the Septenary is considerable, so is that of Nine, for the number of the Hierarchies and Celestial Spheres, together with the common number of months of women's pregnancy; the time between the conception and the birth having a great resemblance with the remainder of Man's Life. Likewise the Ternary, proper to the Deity, being multiplied by itself, must contain what ever wonder and efficacy there can be found in numbers; since it belongs to innumerable things; and nothing can be considered but with its three dimensions, and its three parts, beginning, middle, and end; past, present, and future; hence the assigning of three faces to Janus, three names and three powers to the Moon, according to its own, that of Diana, and that of Hecate; together with the fiction of three Graces. In brief, as the three greatest changes came to pass in each of the three times of the world, before the Law, under the Law, and after the Law; so it seems just that this ternary number divide the actions of the less world, as it hath done of the great.  
The Third said, That he accounted it more reasonable to make this division by the quaternary number, comprehended in the ineffable name of four Letters, the Elements and Humours; to the contract or amity of which we owe our health, our diseases, death, and all the accidents of our lives. And the slowest motion of the dullest and most malignant of these humours is made in four days, the reduplication whereof hath given ground to the error which attributes the Crises and indications of diseases to other numbers. The fourth day is acknowledged the first of Nature's motion, and serves for a measure and foundation of all others. The Crises of diseases are unanimously attributed to the Moon, which hath but four quarters, distinguished by as many faces, which being denominated from the quaternary, argue its power over that Planet; and consequently, over every thing that depends upon it. And as there are four noble parts in Man, (comprehending, with Galen, those which preserve the species) so there are four in the world, East, West, North, and South; four parts of the earth, Europe, Asia, Africa, and America; and four Monarchies. But the considerableness of this number appears, in that our Lord having been asked five questions, namely, of the time of his Death, his Ascension, the Calling of the Gentiles, and the destruction of Jerusalem, they were accomplished in the number of four times ten. For he continued dead 40 hours, he ascended into Heaven at the end of 40 days, the vocation of the Gentiles typified by the vision of unclean beasts, offered by the Angel to Saint Peter to eat, was at the end of 40 months, which are about 3 years and a half, (so long also as Antichrist is to continue) and the destruction of Jerusalem came to pass at the end of 40 years. Whence some suspect that the end of the world (which was another question made to him) will probably happen after 40 times 40 years; which added to the preceding would fall about the year 1640. Moreover, the quaternary is not only a square number, but causing all others to be denominated such; the cause of the change which happens in this number, is, for that a Cube cannot be varied and moved but with difficulty; so that great causes are requisite to produce those changes, which producing great effects, become more sensible and remarkable than the ordinary ones, which more easily cause variation in other numbers remote from the cubick figure.  
The Fourth said, That the Prince of Physicians having affirmed that the Septenary is the dispenser of life, and author of all its changes, seven must be the true Climacterical. For in seven hours the Geniture receives its first disposition to conception; in seven days it is coagulated; in seven weeks it is distinguished into members. The Infant cannot come forth alive sooner than the seventh month, and anciently it was not named till after seven days; being not accounted fully to have life till it had attained that periodical day. The Teeth spring out at the seventh month, they shed and are renewed in the seventh year, at which time the Child begins to speak articulately, and to be capable of Discipline. At twice seven years it is pubes. At twenty one the beard sprouts forth. At twenty eight growing ceases. At thirty five a Man is fit for marriage and the wars. At forty two he is wise, or never. At 49 he is in his Apogee, or highest pitch; after which he grows old, and changes always by Septenaries till he have accomplished the years of his life; which Hypocrates, for this reason, distributes into seven Ages. The virtue of this Number appears likewise in divine things; God having sanctified the seventh day by his own rest and ours, and all Nations measuring their time by weeks. But 'tis not without mystery, that Enoch the seventh after Adam, was translated into Heaven; that Jesus Christ is the seventy seventh in a direct line from the first Man; that he spoke seven times upon the Cross, on which he was seven hours; that he appeared seven times; and after seven times seven days sent the Holy Ghost. That in the Lord's prayer there are seven Petitions, contained in seven times seven words. The Apostles chose seven Deacons. All the mysteries of the Apocalypse are within this number; mention being there made of seven seals of the Book, of seven horns of the Lamb, and seven eyes which are the seven Spirits of God sent throughout all the earth, of the seven heads and seven questions of the Dragon; of the seven heads of the Woman, which are seven hills; of seven Kings, seven Angels, seven Trumpets, seven vials, seven plagues. The Scripture makes mention of seven resurrections to that of our Saviour's. The 1. of the Widow's Son of Sarepta, by Elias. The 2. of the Shunamite's Son, by Elisha. The 3. of the Soldier who touched the bones of that Prophet. The 4. of the Daughter of the Ruler of the Synagogue. The 5. of the Widow's Son of Naim. The 6. of Lazarus. And the 7. of our Lord. The Rabbins say that God employed the power of this Number to make Samuel so great as he was; his name answering in value of the Letters to the Hebrew word which signifies seven; whence Hannah his Mother, in her thanks to God, saith, That the barren had brought forth seven. Solomon spent seven years in building God's Temple. Jacob served seven years for Leah, and as many for Rachel. The wall of Jericho fell down at the sound of Joshuah's seven Trumpets, after the Israelites had gone seven times about it on the seventh day. Nabuchadononosor did penance for his pride seven years amongst the beasts. Moreover, there are seven Penitential Psalms. The Nile and the Danow have seven mouths. There are seven hills at Rome, Prague, and Constantinople. Noah entered into the Ark with seven persons, and seven pairs of all clean Animals. After seven days the waters fell from Heaven during seven times seven days. On the seventh month the Ark rested upon the Mountain of Ararat. The Ecclesiastes limits mourning to seven days. There were seven years of plenty, and as many of famine, in Egypt. There were seven Lamps in the Tabernacle, typifying seven gifts of the Spirit. The Jews ate unleavened bread seven days; and as many celebrated the Feast of Tabernacles. They let their land rest every seventh year, and after seven times seven had their Jubilee. The strength of Samson lay in seven locks of his Hair. There are seven Sacraments in the Church, as in Heaven seven Planets, seven Pleyades, seven Stars in the two Bears. The Periodical course of the Moon is made in four times seven days, at each of which septenaries, it changes its face. In brief, there were seven miracles of the World, and seven Sages of Greece. There are seven Electors, seven liberal Arts, seven pairs of Nerves, seven Orifices serving for gates to the Senses: Natural sleep is limited to seven hours; and this Number is by some justly esteemed the knot, or principal band of all things, and the symbol of Nature.  
The Fifth said, It was not without cause that Augustus was so extremely fearful of the Climactericals', that when he had passed his 63d year, he writ in great joy to all his friends; but he died in the second Climacterick after, his 77th year, consisting of eleven septenaries, which was also fatal to Tiberius, Severus, T. Livius, Empedocles, S. Augustin, Bessarion; as the sixty third was to Aristotle, Cicero (who also was banished in his Climacterick of 49) Demosthenes, Trajan, Adrian, Constantine, S. Bernard, the blessed Virgin, and many others. And the next Climacterick of 70, to three of the Sages of Greece, to Marius, Vespasian, Antoninus, Golienus, David, who was also driven from his Kingdom by his Son, at his sixty third year; and committed his adultery and homicide at his forty nineth; both climactericals. And as much might be observed of the fates and actions of other men, were regard had of them. Our first Father died at the age of 931 years, which was climacterical to him, because it contains in itself seven times 133. Lamech died at 777 years, climacterical likewise, as Abraham died at 175, which contains 25 times seven. Jacob at 147, consisting of 21 times seven; Judas at 119, made of 17 times seven; the power of which Climactericals' many make to extend to the duration of States, which Plato conceived not to be much above 70 weeks of years.  
The Sixth said, That regular changes proceeding necessarily from a regular cause, and no motion being exactly regular in all nature but that of the Heavens; supposing there be climacterical years, and not so many deaths and remarkable accidents in all the other numbers of days, months and years, had they been all as carefully observed as some of them have been) their power of alteration cannot but be ascribed to the celestial bodies. That which befalls us every seventh year arises hence; as every Planet rules its hour, so it makes every day, month, and year septenary; beginning by Saturn, and ending at the Moon, which governs the seventh, and therein causes all mutations, which acquire malignity by the approach of Saturn presiding again over the eighth; which is the cause why births in the eighth month are seldom vital.   

II. Of Shame.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That the Passions consider evil and good not only absolutely, but also under certain differences. Desire hath regard to absent good, not in general, but in particular; sometimes under the respect of Riches, and then 'tis called Covetousness; sometimes of Honour, and then 'tis called Ambition; sometimes of Beauties, and then 'tis an amorous inclination. So grief looks upon present evil; if it be in another, it causes compassion in us; if in ourselves, and apprehended prejudicial to our honour, it causes shame, which is a grief for an evil which we judge brings ignominy to us; a grief so much the greater, in that no offence goes more to the quick then that which touches our reputation. It occasioned the death of a Sophist, because he could not answer a question; and of Homer, because he could not resolve the riddle of the Fishers; and of others also, upon their having been non-plused in public. For as nothing is more honourable than virtue and knowledge; so nothing is so ignominious as ignorance and vice, nor (consequently) that makes us so much ashamed; being reproaches of our falling short of our end, (which is, to understand and to will) and so of being less than men; but (as Plato said) Monsters of nature. But amongst all the vices, Nature hath rendered none so shameful as that of lasciviousness, whereof not only the act, but also the gestures and signs cause shame. Hence an immodest or ambiguous word, and a fixed look, make women and children blush, whom shame becomes very well, being the guard of chastity, and the colour of virtue; as it ill becomes old men, and persons confirmed in virtue, who ought not to commit any thing whereof they may be ashamed.  
The Second said, That shame is either before vice and the infamy which follows it, or after both. In the first sense, shame is a fear of dishonour. In the second, 'tis a grief for being fallen thereinto. Neither of the two is ever without love of honesty, but lies between the two extremes, or sottish and rustic bashfulness on the one side, and impudence on the other. The former is found in those who are ashamed of virtue, or cannot deny any thing, although it be contrary to honesty, good manners, and their own will; or in such who cannot look a man in the face, which although frequently an obstacle to brave actions, yet is a common token of a good soul, rather inclined to honesty then to vice; like Edler and other wild herbs, which being good for nothing, and hindering the growth of others, are yet signs of a good soil. On the contrary, impudence is the symptom of a soul extremely depraved; the defect of inward grief, which comes from the perversion of the Intellect, and the loss of Conscience, rendering the maladies of the soul incurable, as insensibility makes those of the body desperate. But modesty and true shame fears true dishonours, and is grieved for them; having this of virtue, which the greater it is, the more it fears things greatly formidable and infamous, such as vice, and its concomitant, ignominy, are: but not much other things, which depend only on the imagination, and are not any way dishonest of themselves; in which 'tis poorness of mind to blush. Thus S. Paul saith he was not ashamed of the Gospel. And our Lord, that they who shall be ashamed of him before men, he will deny them before his Father. For, to speak truth, we ought not to be ashamed of any thing but vice and its effects. Before sin, our first Parents knew not what it was to be ashamed; but after it they were ashamed of their nakedness, the same sense whereof remains to all their posterity.  
The Third said, As some things are of themselves shameful, because they are vicious; so some are not shameful saving at certain times and places, to which the customs of each Country, for the most part, give Law: others are always so, although of themselves lawful, and far from being vicious; as those things which civility and honesty forbid to do publicly; whence Diogenes merited the name of Dog for transgressing those laws of seemliness. For as honour is drawn not only from virtue, but from many other circumstances, which for the most part depend upon the opinion of men who dispose of this honour, so doth dishonour and the shame which follows it.  
The Fourth said, That shame is not a passion (as neither compassion nor emulation) because it hath no virtue which regulates its disorders; much less a virtue, not being firm, and constant, but a simple motion to good, and a slight impression of honesty in the will and affections, produced either by nature or custom, and not yet so firmly rooted as virtue; whence it is very mutable and incertain. For we are ashamed of being too tall or too low, commended or blamed, yea we blush no less for defects which cannot be imputed to us, as mean extraction, or some corporal imperfection which we cannot mend, than we do for being found liars or surprised in some other fault. To which inconstancy is the agitation of the blood and spirits to be referred, whose tincture diffused in the face betrays our dissimulation in spite of us.    

CONFERENCE LXXI.  
I. Why motion produces heat. II. Of Chastity.  

I. Why motion produces heat.  
LOcal motion is not only the most common, but likewise the most noble of all, since 'tis not found in animals till they have acquired their perfection. Besides, it produces heat, the noblest and most active of all qualities; upon this account Physians enjoin exercise to discuss cold and phlegmatic humours; because animal motion cannot be performed without spirits, and these being of an igneous nature calefie all the parts towards which they flow. But being motion produces heat in life-less things too, 'tis harder to render a reason of this effect in them then in animals. Thus Arrows have been seen to become 〈◊〉 by the swiftness of their flight. Miller's turn part of their 〈◊〉 upon the axletree of their wheel, otherwise it would be on fire▪ and Waggoners, as well for this purpose as to facilitate their turning, grease their wheels, thereby to remedy the dryness of the axletree which disposes the same to ignition. Those that hold it for a Principle, That motion heats, account is as absurd to inquire the cause thereof, as to ask why fire does so. But without ground, since every motion heats not; that of inanimate bodies if slow, produces no heat, but only when it is swift: 'tis requisite too that the bodies be solid; otherwise we see motion cools water and air, and hinders their corruption, which proceeds from heat. This argues that it cannot be a principle; for a principle must hold good in all subjects, and be such as no instance can be brought against it. Such heat therefore comes from the attrition of the air, which being rarefied beyond what its nature permits, waxes hot, and sometimes is turned into fire, wherewith it symbolizes upon the account of its heat; as, on the contrary, when the same air is too much condensed, 'tis resolved into water, wherewith also it symbolizes by it moisture. For as there are terms of quantity in all mixed bodies; so in all simple bodies there are terms of rarity and density, beyond which the Element cannot preserve itself, without admitting vacuity, when it is more rare than its matter can endure; or without penetration of dimension, when it hath more matter than it needeth.  
The Second said, That to ascribe that heat caused by motion to the air inflamed and turned into fire by attrition and attenuation of its parts, is to explicate a manifest thing by one more obscure, and whereupon all are not agreed; such is the transmutation of one element into another. 'Tis Therefore more probable that this heat is not produced anew, but is the same which is in all mixed bodies, wherein there is an elementary fire; which being buried, and (as 'twere) entangled in the bonds of the other Elements, appears not unless it be excited by motion. As in putrefaction the same heat being attracted by the outward heat of the air, becomes perceptible by the sense. And as those that have drawn a Landscape in distemper upon a table of oil, coming to wash the table, make the first draught appear which before was hid; or as the earth of a Mine which contains Gold or Silver, being washed, exhibites these Metals visible, but produces them not anew, because they were there before: so motion does not make, but discover heat, introducing a disposition in the subject by friction, rarefying and drying the surfaces of two contiguous bodies; which two qualities being proper to receive the impression of fire, are also more so to make that appear which is in all bodies not only potentially, but likewise actually. For if 'twere the air included between two bodies rubbed and moved with violence, it would follow that every sort of body would be apt to produce fire, and especially the most aerious, as being most inflammable. Moreover, nothing hindering but that two Spheres may be so contiguous, as the Celestial are, that there can be no air between them, yet they might nevertheless be moved and heated, yea much more than if there were air interposed between them.  
The Third said, As a form cannot be received into any subject without previous dispositions, so when they are present they suddenly snatch the form to themselves. Those of fire are rarity, lightness and dryness; of which the more bodies partake, the more they will be susceptible of the nature of fire. Therefore what is capable of being heated by motion must be dry not moist; whence fire is never produced by water, any more than of air agitated, by reason of their excessive humidity, perfectly contrary to the dryness of fire. But that which is extremely dry is half fire, needing no more but to become hot, as happens necessarily when it is rarefied and attenuated by motion, and consequently inflamed; every substance extremely tenuious and dry being igneous, since in the order of nature all matter necessarily receives the form whereof it hath all the dispositions. For there being a separation and divulsion of parts made in every sort of motion, as is seen in water when it falls from on high, it follows that they are rendered more rare, and capable of being converted into fire.  
The Fourth said, That motion, rarity, and heat ordinarily follow, and are the causes one of another. Thus the Heavens by their rapid motion excite heat in all sublunary bodies; and this heat, as 'tis its property, opening the parts, rarefies the whole. Water receiving the rays of the Sun is moved and agitated by them; this motion produces rarity; this, heat; which makes the subtlest parts ascend upwards: as, on the contrary, heat being the most active quality, is the cause of motion; this, of rarity, by collision attenuating the moved parts. So that motion is not more the cause of heat, than this is of motion.  
The Fifth said, That heat and fire (which is only an excess of heat) are produced four ways; by propagation, union, putrefaction, and motion. In the first way, one way generates another fire; a thing common to it with all other bodies in nature, which is so fruitful that even the least things produce their like. In the second manner, when the Sunbeams are reflected by bellow glasses, they burn in the point of union, provided the matter be not white, because whiteness takes away the reason upon which they burn, which is their uniting; whereas white disunites and disgregates the rays. To which manner that of antiperistasis is also to be referred, when external cold causes such a union of the degrees of heat, that it becomes inflamed. The third cause of heat is putrefaction proceeding from disunion of the Elements; amongst which fire being the most active becomes becomes also more sensible to us. The last is motion, by which bodies rubbed or clashed one against another, take fire by reason of the Sulphur contained in them, which alone is inflammable; as we see Marble and Freestone yield not fire as Flints do, whose smell after the blue seems sulphureous. For if only the air be fired, whence comes it, that in striking the steel the sparkles of fire fall downwards, contrary to the nature of fire, which ascends? besides, the air would be turned into flames, not into sparkles, and two stones rubbed one against the other would cause as much fire as steel and the flint, or other stones, out of whose substance these igneous particles are struck. Whence, according to their differences, they make different sparkles; If the stones be hard, and struck strongly, they render a sprightly fire; if soft, they either render none at all, or such as is less vigorous. Moreover, the observations of fire issuing forth upon the rubbing of a Lion's bones, as also Laurel and Ivy, and Crystal with Chalcedon; and that which comes from stroking the back of a Cat in the dark, and from the casting a drop of rectified oil of Vitriol into cold water, evidence that this fire is produced out of the bosom of the matter which is more disposed thereunto then any other, not from the encompassing air. But that which serves most to show that 'tis from the matter this fire of motion comes, is the duration of the Heavens, which being in all probability solid, would have been set on fire, were it not that they are not of a combustible matter, nor apt to conceive fire; for how little soever that heat were, there would be more near the Sphere of the Moon then at the Centre of the Earth; and nevertheless the air is frozen while heat causes corruptions and generations upon the earth, and at the centre of it; and this heat having been always increasing, as is that of the motion, would be insupportable.   

II. Of Chastity.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That Reason regulates the inclinations of the appetite by the virtues, amongst which temperance serves to moderate that of eating by abstinence; and of drinking, by sobriety; as also the concupiscence of the flesh by chastity, which is more excellent than the two former, in that its business lies with more powerful adversaries which assail it without as well as within, by so many avenues as there are senses; amongst which the hearing and sight receiving the poison of glances, and words, cause chastity to stagger and languish; but it receives the deadly blow when the touch surrenders itself to the enchantment of kisses, and the other delights which follow them. Moreover, the necessity of natural actions being the standard of pleasure, and generation which concerns the general being more necessary than nutrition which relates only to the particular, it hath also more pleasure; and, consequently, being more hard to withstand, chastity which surmounts it, not only deserves Palms and Triumphs in the other world, but also in this hath been rewarded by God with the gift of Prophecy in the Sibyls, and is honoured by all, even the most wicked for its rarity; which made the Poet say, that there was none in his time chaste but she that had not been tempted. Now Chastity is of three sorts, Virgineal, Conjugal, and that of Widows; to which the Father's attribute what is said of the grains of Corn, which brought forth, one a hundred; other, thirty; and other, sixty. For Virgineal Chastity, in either sex, consisting in integrity of body, and purity of soul, and in a firm purpose to abstain from all sort of carnal pleasures, the better to attend divine service, is more worthy than the other two, and preferred before any other condition by S. Paul, who counsels every one to desire to be like him in this point. Hence the Church hath chosen it, and is so immutably affected to it, to the end souls freed from worldly care might be more at leisure for divine things, from which Matrimony extremely diverts. The chastity of Widows hath, for pattern, the Turtle and the Raven, who having lost their mates live nine ages of men without coupling with others; and the Apostle saith, Widows in deed are worthy of double honour. The Conjugal hath also made Penelope renowned, and hath for example the Etnaean fish, of which the male and female never part.  
The Second said, Virgineal Chastity is not absolutely virtuous of itself, having been practised by Pagans and Idolaters, who devoted themselves to their false gods, and being found in children newly born: which cannot be said of virtues, which are acquired by precepts and good manners, not by nature. Moreover, it may be lost without sin, as in Virgins violated, or those that are married; yea sometimes with merit, as when Hosea the Prophet took a Harlot to wife by God's express command. And being once lost, it cannot be repaired by repentance as other virtues may. Whence S. Jerome writing to Eustochium, saith, that God who is able to do all things, yet cannot restore virginity. 'Tis therefore commendable so far as it is referred to God: in which case 'tis a most admirable thing, and the more because 'tis above nature, which by Marriage peoples the Earth, but Virginity people's Heaven, where there shall be no marrying, but we shall be as the Angels of God, who being a pure Spirit, loves purity above all things.  
The Third said, That Virginity is wholly contrary to the nature of man, who desires nothing so much as immortality, which being not attainable in his own person he seeks in his successors, who are part of himself. Yea it seems to have somewhat of insensibility, the vicious excess of temperance, since it wholly abstains from all pleasures; some of which are lawful. Therefore Plato sacrificed to Nature, as if to make her satisfaction for his having continued a virgin all his life; and the Romans laid great fines upon such as would not marry; as on the other side, they granted immunities to those that brought children into the world; whence remains at this day the right of three, four and five children, observed still amongst us, those that have five children being exempted from Wardships. Yea, among the Jews it could not be without reproach, since sterility was ignominious among them, and was accounted the greatest curse. Moreover, Marriage not only supplies Labourers, Artisans, Soldiers and Citizens to the State, but Kings and Princes to the People, Prelates and Pastors to the Church, and a Nursery to Paradise, which would not be peopled with Virgins, did not the married give them being. Whence S. Austustin justly makes a Question, Who merited most before God, Abraham in Marriage, or S. John Baptist in the Virgineal State.  
The Fourth said, That being things are termed virtuous when they are according to right reason, which requires that we make use of means proportionately to their end; therefore Virginity is a virtue, and the more sublime in that it is in order to the most excellent end, namely, the contemplation of Divine Mysteries. For amongst the goods of men, some are external, as riches; others of the body, as health; others of the soul, amongst which those of the contemplative life are more excellent than those of the active. As therefore 'tis according to right reason, that external goods are made subservient to those of the body, and these to the goods of the soul; so is the denying the pleasures of the body the better to intend the actions of the contemplative life: as Virginity does, which freeing us from carnal thoughts affords us more convenience to mind the things of God, and to be pure in body and spirit. 'Tis therefore the end which makes Virginity to be virtuous. Whence those Roman Vestals, and the brahmin's among the Indians, who abstained wholly from Marriage, nevertheless deserve the name of Virgins. And Spurina, mentioned by Valerius Maximus, so chaste that perceiving himself as much loved by the Tuscan Ladies, as he was hated by their Husbands, disfigured his face with voluntary wounds, had indeed some shadow, but not the body of this virtue. The invention of Gaila and Papa, Daughters of Gisuphe Duke of Friuli, was much more ingenious; who at the sacking of their City, beholding the chastity of their sex prostituted to the lust of the Soldiers, filled their laps with stinking flesh, whose bad smell kept those from them who would have attempted their honour.  
The fifth said, That the excellence of Virgineal Chastity is such, that it hath no vicious excess; for the more we abstain from pleasures, the more pure we are. And as it is blemished many ways, so it is preserved by many others. Amongst which, is first, Employment or Business; whence Cupid, in Lucian, excuses himself to his Mother, that he could not wound Minerva, because he never found her idle. Modesty is also the Guardian of it, as to appear seldom in public; whence the Hebrews called their Virgin's Almach, which signifies Recluses. Moreover, dishonest gestures, words, and looks, are to be avoided. And amongst corporeal means, Abstinence and Maceration of the body, are very effectual; as amongst Aliments such as are cold, as Nenuphar, or Water-lilly, (called therefore Nymphaea) and Lettuce, which the Pythagoreans for this reason Eunuch, and under which upon the same account the Poets feign Venus to have hid Adonis. As likewise the leaves of Willows bruised, the ashes of Tamarisk, and the flowers of Agnus Castus, which is a sort of Ozier, so called by the Greeks, because the Athenian Ladies lay upon them during the festivals of Ceres, to repress the ardour of Love, whereof, they say, such are not sensible as have drunk wine wherein the fish named Trigla is suffocated, or who have eaten Rue. But because these remedies are not infallible, Origen took another course, making himself actually an Eunuch, for fear of losing that rare treasure of Virginity, whose loss is both inestimable and irreparable.    

CONFERENCE LXXII.  
I. Of Thunder. II. Which of all the Arts is the most necessary.  

I. Of Thunder.  
AS Water and Earth are the grossest of the Elements, so they receive most sensibly the actions of the Celestial Bodies, chiefly the Sun's heat; which exhaling and drawing up their purer parts, vapours from the Water, and exhalations from the Earth, forms meteors of them. And as the cold and moist vapours make tempests, dew, and frost, in the lower Region; and in the middle, clouds, rain, hail, snow. Exhalations, if fat and unctuous, cause Comets in the higher Region, and in the lower the two Ignes Fatui; if dry and subtle, they make Earthquakes in the bowels of the Earth; in its surface, winds and tempests; in the middle Region of the Air, Lightning, Fulgur, or the Thunderbolts and Thunder. For these three commonly follow and produce one another. Lightning is the coruscation or flashing of the matter inflamed. And though produced by Thunder, yet is sooner perceived then the other heard; because the Sight is quicker than the Hearing, by reason its object, the visible species, are moved in an instant; but sound successively, because of the resistance of the Air, its medium. Thunder is the noise excited by the shock and shattering of the cloud by the enclosed exhalation; whence rain commonly follows it. Fulgur is the exhalation inflamed, which impetuously breaks out at the sides of the cloud, wherein it is oftentimes turned into a stone of the shape of a wedge; the celestial heat then working the same effect in the cavities of the cloud that our common fire doth in crucibles; in which equal portions of Sulphur, Tartara, and Antimony inflamed, turn into a very hard stone, of the colour of the Thunderbolt, called Regulus Antimonii.  
The Second said, As fire is sometimes produced in the Air without noise, and noise without fire; so a great fire is made there with little noise, as when what they call a Falling Star passes through a moist cloud, in which it makes a hissing like that of hot Iron in cold water, whence Winds proceed; and sometimes a great noise with little fire; as when an Exhalation inflamed hollows and breaks the cloud which encloses it, or else impressing a violent and rapid motion upon it, makes it clash impetuously against other clouds. For impetuousness supplies for hardness, as is seen in Air which whistles when beaten by Winds; there being some things which tension renders hard, as Wind included in a football. And what is reported of the Cataracts of Nile, whose waters make so vehement a noise, that it renders the people there abouts deaf, is a sufficient evidence that two fluid bodies clashing violently together, make as great a sound as two solid bodies moved with less violence.  
The Third said, That what is done below being the figure of what is done on high, the one may be clearly explicated by the other. Wherefore as Exhalation with vapour makes metals in the entrails of the Earth; so in the Air it makes Thunder, whither they ascend together, the vapour being blended with the Exhalation; or severally, this latter being set on fire in the cold and vaporous cloud; or being no longer containable there through its great rarity, encountered by the coldness of the cloud and the Air, it seeks some outlet; which not finding, 'tis necessitated to hollow the bollow the belly of the cloud which obstructed it. This rarity proceeds from its heat and dryness, which are commonly turned into fire by the sole motion of the Exhalation, or by the rays of the Sun, or of some other Stars reflected by the smooth surface of an opposite cloud; in the same manner as Burning-glasses set on fire such things as are placed at some convenient distance. Which should be thought no more strange than mock-suns and mock-moons, which are made in the same manner, but in a flat or plain cloud, not parabolical, such as the figure of Burning-glasses must be. Moreover, fire may be excited by the Antiperistasis of the vehement cold in the middle Region of the Air, which causes the degrees of heat to unite, (as those of other qualities strengthen one another in an enemy country) and become flame. Hence Thunders are more frequent in Southern then in Northern Countries, in hot seasons then in Winter, wherein the cold closing the pores of the Earth, hinders the free issue of the Exhalations, and the middle Region of the Air is found less cold. But the most sensible example of Thunder is that of our Guns; the powder, being so suddenly inflamed that it cannot reside in the barrel, where it takes up a thousand times more room than it did whilst it remained in its terrene nature, according to the decuple proportion of the Elements, violently breaks forth, and carries with it what ever resists it, breaking the Gun (unless the mouth be open) though much stronger than a cloud, whose spissitude nevertheless supplies for its rarity.  
The Fourth said, That the Nature of Thunder and Thunderbolts is so occult that all antiquity called them the weapons of Jupiter which he discharged upon the wicked, as is testified by their fables of the Giants, Salmoneus, Phaeton, and some others. Nor is there any so hardened in wickedness, but trembles at the cracking of Thunder and Thunderbolts, which Socrates, in Xenophon, calls the Invisible Ministers of God. And one Emperor acknowledged himself no God, by going to hide himself in a cave while it thundered, because Thunderbolts are conceived not to enter the Earth above five foot deep. Others have thought that there is something supernatural in it, and that Daemons have commonly a hand in it; because its effects being unlike those of corporeal Agents seem to be produced by spirits, who are able to move what ever there is in Nature; and this the more easily, being not tied to the conditions of the matter, but moved in an instant, and penetrating all bodies whatever. For Thunder hath killed many who had no appearance of hurt upon them; the Hair of some hath been taken off without other inconvenience; it hath consumed the Tongues of some, or turned them downwards; it hath melted the money in the purse, and the sword in the scabbard, without other mischief; it sours Wine in the vessel, spoils Eggs under a Hen, and makes Sheep abortive. Moreover, the Scripture tells us, that God hath many times used Thunder either to punish or terrify men, as he did in Egypt by the rod of Moses, who calls Thunderbolts God's swords, as David doth his Arrows, and the Thunder his voice. The Law was given to the Israelites with Thunders and Lightnings; and Saint John in his Revelation saith, that Thunders and Lightnings proceed from God's Throne. Indeed nothing more visibly notifies his presence, power, and justice; yet always accompanied with Clemency; for he threatens by Lightning, and speaks by Thunder, before he strikes by the Thunderbolt; and the rumbling of this Thunder menaces a whole Region, though commonly it carries the blow but upon one person, or oftentimes none at all.  
The Fifth said, Fear (which not only sometimes made the Romans worship Famine and the Fever, but makes itself an Idol in the Minds of the Ignorant) has persuaded men that there is something Divine in Thunder, because they dread the dismal effects of it and know not the cause, although it be as natural as that of all other Meteors. Hence some have had recourse to impertinent and superstitious remedies; as, to pronounce certain barbarous words, to carry certain figures or characters about them, and (according to Wierus) to lay a Thunder-stone, called by the Greeks, Ceraunium, between two Eggs upon a Table in the house which you would preserve, or hang an Egg laid on Ascension-day to the roof of the House; and such other absurd and profane means. The Northern people were much more ridiculous; who, as Olaus reports, shot Arrows up to Heaven when it Thundered, thereby (as they said) to help their Gods who were assailed by others. The Thracians fell a howling against Heaven, struck their shields with their swords, and rung all their bells; which latter is practised at this day, to the end the vehement agitation of the Air may divert the Thunderbolt from the steeples, upon which, as upon all other high places, especially upon trees, it is wont to fall. 'Tis held also that strong smells have the same virtue; as amongst Animals, the Sea-calf and Hyaena, and amongst Plants, the Figtree and Laurel, of which Caesar commonly wore a wreath, rather for this purpose then to cover his bald head. But 'tis little probable what they relate of Zoroaster and Numa, as that they stilled Thunder when they pleased, and that Tullus Hostilius attempting to do the same was Thunderstruck.   

II. Which of all the Arts is the most necessary.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That if we take the judgement of each Artist, there's none but thinks himself more necessary than his companion. Whence commonly there is contention for dignity among those that profess several Arts. Which made a Physician tell his Patient, who complained that his Apothecary told him he needed a medicine, and his Chirurgeon that he wanted nothing but blood-letting; that if he took the advice of his Shoemaker, 'twas requisite for him to have a pair of boots. And even a seller of matches finding himself in danger in a boat upon the Seine, embracing his merchandise, cried out, Ville de Paris que tu perdes; O Paris, what a loss wilt thou have! But to consider things in themselves, Agriculture (called by Cicero the most worthy employment of an ingenuous mind; by Aristotle, the justest manner of acquisition, and the Mother of all the Arts) seems to be most absolutely necessary. No private person, much less Republics, ever thought of any thing so carefully as their provision, which is the foundation upon which all the other projects of Man depend; the hungry belly having no ears, and consequently, being incapable of discipline. And good Architects always build the kitchen first. Our first Father exercised Tillage at his first going out of Eden; and 'twas from the plough that Coriolanus, Seranus, Curius, and Cato, and so many other great Roman Captains were taken. In brief, the styling of Earth Man's Mother and Nurse, argues that 'tis not less necessary to us then a Mother and Nurse to Children, and consequently, those that till it then Fathers.  
The Second said, As the beauty of nature consists chiefly in the variety of Natural Agents, determined each to a particular work; so that of a State appears principally in the multitude of Workmen and Artisans. And as the meanest of these Natural Agents, like small Simples, are more necessary, and have more virtue than the tallest Cedars and Cypresses; so amongst the Arts, the basest in appearance are the most noble and necessary, as Agriculture, and keeping of Sheep, which was exercised by Apollo, Paris, Saul and David. Whence the Greek Poet calls Kings, Pastors of the people; a name still retained by the Prelates of the Church; and Plato conceived that the daemons and happy spirits were sometimes Shepherds; and Philo the Jew saith, that the Pastoral Art was a praelude to Royalty, as that of hunting is the apprentisage of war. Moreover, hunting, its near sister, was much practised by the Persians and all warlike Nations; and Xenophon highly recommends it, but specially to Princes, in his institution of Cyrus; as Julius Pollex did to the Emperor Commodus, for an heroical recreation, serving to strengthen both body and mind, and rendering men vigilant, laborious and indefatigable.  
The Third said, That Man, suitable to his three principal Organs, the Intellect, the Tongue and the Hand, spending his whole life in reasoning, speaking, or doing, he therefore needs three sorts of Arts to serve him for rules in all his operations. The first, to form his Reason, therefore called Logic. The second, to regulate his words, and is either Grammar which instructs him to speak rightly, or Rhetoric to speak handsomely, or History to relate well, or Dialectic to speak of every thing probably. The third comprehends all real Arts, whose number infinitely exceeds the two other; for Men speak and reason after the same manner, because they do it naturally; but they operate in several manners according to the several usages and Customs of people and places. Amongst these real Arts, some are necessary to life, as Agriculture, and keeping of Cattle, which supply us with Food and Raiment from the Earth and Animals. Others are useful thereunto, as the Art of building Houses, that of Tailors and Shoemakers, and other manufactures which we cannot want without inconvenience. Others are for ornament, as Painting, Embroidery, Dancing. Others are only for pleasure; as the Art of Cookery, perfuming, and all those which tickle the Ear by musical instruments. In brief, the scope of some is only Truth, as the Art of measuring Heaven and the Stars, with some others, which as the most excellent, having Truth the divinest and noblest thing in the world for their object, so they are the least necessary; and therefore were invented last. For the most necessary Arts are the most ancient. The use of things (the measure of their necessity) having constrained Men to make but rude Arts at the first, which they afterwards polished and refined by their industry, which is continually adding to former inventions.  
The Fourth said, Since Divine Authority hath commanded to honour Physic for its necessity, 'tis no longer lawful to prefer any other Art before it. Agriculture should in vain help the Earth's production of fruits, did not Physic by preserving and restoring health enable Man to enjoy the same, 'Tis not considerable what some allege, That Physicians may be spared, because there were none in Rome for 600. together, after they had been expelled from thence; since to be without Physicians, is not to be without Physic. For then every one was his own Physician. As if the Magistrates be driven out of a State, it does not follow that Justice is driven out too; because others succeed into their places; and the greatest Thiefs keep some form of justice and laws among themselves.  
The Fifth said, That the only means of keeping States being to get (since in matters of Oeconomy, the foundation of States, not to gain and advantage is to go behindhand) Merchandise both in gross and retail being the surest and speediest means to enrich Cities, seems the most necessary of all Arts; besides, it maintains society amongst Men, who could not supply one another's needs, if there were not an Art of trafficking by Exchange or sale, which makes but one City of the whole world, both old and new.  
The Sixth said, That the Military Art being the sword and buckler of a State, is both the noblest and most necessary of all. 'Tis in vain that Men labour, travel, plead, traffic, or heal themselves, if the Soldier hinders not the Enemy's invasion, and keep not the State in liberty, by securing it both from the disturbances of Rebels, and incursiions of Foreigners. If one be the weakest, his plump and sound body being taken by Pirates will serve only for the Galleys of his conqueror. There remains nothing to the conquered but sorrow. Those goodly crops of Corn are for the Soldiers who are Masters of the campaigne. War is the fair where wares are had best cheap; and in sacked Cities commodities are taken without weighing, and Stuffs are not measured but with the Pike instead of the Ell; if any complain, there needs no more but to imitate Brennus' treating with the Romans besieged in the Capitol, cast the sword into the balance, it will carry it. Wherefore being Master of all Arts, it is more necessary than they. For he that is strongest finds sufficient of every thing.  
The Seventh said, As amongst the Arts, some have others subservient to them, as the Ephippians to the Military Art; Chirurgery, Pharmacy, the Gymnastick, and all that relate to Health, to Medicine or Physic; Carpentry, Masonry, and others employed about building to Architecture; and these Master Arts are called Architectonical: So there is one above all these which is Policy, the Eye and Soul of the State, which governs all Arts, gives them their rewards, and punishes their defects; sets what price it pleases upon things; affords convenient place for the merit of every one, sends Armies into the field, and calls them back according to the necessity of affairs; hath care of Piety and Justice, establishes Magistracy, appoints quarters to Soldiers, and gives free exercise to all other Arts. All which considerations and accounts argue it the most necessary of all.    

CONFERENCE LXXIII.  
I. Of the Earthquake. II. Of Envy.  

I. Of the Earthquake.  
IRregular motions are as strange as regular are agreeable; especially those of bodies destinated to rest, as the Earth is, being the immovable centre about which the whole fabric of the world is turned. For though the whole Heaven cannot rest, any more than the whole Earth move, yet the parts of them may; the Scripture informing us, that Joshuah made the Sun stand still, that he might have time to pursue the Amorites; and every Age having experiences of Earthquakes. To which Aristotle ascribes the appearing of a new Island in the Pontic Sea, called Heraclia, and of another called Sacrea. Many Geographers affirm, that the Islands of Rhodes and Delos were produced by the like cause; and that Sicily sometimes joined to Italy, was separated from it by an Earthquake; whence the place of separation is still called by the Greek word Rhegium, which signifies separation and fracture. Pliny affirms, that the Island of Cyprus was by this means divided from Syria, and Euboea from Boeotia. Histories tell of some Mountains that have clashed together, contrary to the Proverb, which saith, that they never meet; of Towns transported to some distance from their first situation, as happened by an Earthquake in Syria, in the ninth year of Constantinus Copronomus; of others swallowed up, as sometimes the greatest part of the City of Sparta, upon which at the same time fell a part of Mount Taygetus, which completed its ruin; twenty thousand inhabitants of which City were also overwhelmed by an other Earthquake, by the relation of Diodorus, about the 78. olympiad. Josephus reports, that thirty thousand Jews were swallowed up by another. And Justin, that when Tigranes' King of Armenia became Master of Syria, there happened so dreadful an Earthquake, that a hundred and thirty thousand Syrians perished by it. Four hundred years ago twelve thousand houses were shaken down at Lisbon. Italy was much endamaged in the year 1116, by one which lasted forty days; principally, Tuscany, Puglia, the Territory of Venice, and Campagnia, where twelve Cities perished; and that of Pompey was swallowed up in Winter, which season, nevertheless, is accounted free from it. Four years ago the City of Naples was horribly shaken, especially the borders of Mount Visuvius. The common opinion, refers these effects to a dry Exhalation, which makes the same concussion in the belly of the Earth as in that of a cloud, shattering many times both the one and the other, when it cannot otherwise get free from its confinement, how hard or dense soever the bodies be that enclose it.  
The Second said, That the causes of Earthquakes are either Divine, or Astrological, or Physical. The first have no other foundation but the Will of God, who thereby oftentimes manifests to Men his justice and power, and sometimes contrary to the course of ordinary and natural causes. Such was that at the death of our Saviour, in the 18th year of Tiberius, which was universal, and wherewith twelve Cities of Asia perished; and that mentioned by Sigonius, happening in the year 343. under Constantine the Arrian Emperor, whereby the City of Neocaesaria was wholly swallowed up, except the Catholic Church and its Bishop. The Astrological causes are, if we may credit the professors of this Art, the malignant influences of Jupiter and Mars in the Houses of Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn. But as the first are too general, so these are very uncertain, being built for the most part, upon false principles; as also those which suppose the Earth a great Animal, whose tremors are made in the same manner as those which befall other Animals. Wherefore holding to the most perceptible causes, I conceive, with Democritus, that torrents of rain coming to fill the concavities of the Earth by their impetuousness drive out the other waters, and that upon their motion and swaying from one side to another, the Earth also reels this way, and by and by the other; or rather that these Torrents drive out the winds impetuously, as Air issues out of a bottle when it is filling; which wind repels and agitates the Earth till it find some issue; whence also come the sounds and lowings which accompany Earthquakes. As is seen in Hydraulick instruments, which by arificial mixing Air and Water when they are impelled into pipes fit to receive the same, excite sounds like those emitted by the windpipe of Animals, agitated with the wind of their lungs, and moistened with the salivous liquor, or natural water.  
The Third said, That he could not be of their mind, who, because water is found by digging to a good depth in the Earth, therefore interpret that place literally, where 'tis said, That God hath founded the Earth upon the Water upon which it floats; and that according to their agitation, the Earth is like a Ship which fluctuates in a tempestuous Sea, and lies even and still in a calm; since if this were so, than the whole Earth should tremble at the same time, which is contrary to experience. The opinion of Anaximenes, is more probable, that as part of the Earth, upon a drought after a wet season, cleaves and crackles, so the same happens to Regions and whole Countries.  
The Fourth said, That if this opinion were true, than they would begin, increase, diminish and cease by degrees, nor would they last long. Yet 'tis observed, some have continued forty days, yea, six months, as that of Constantinople, under Theodosius the younger, and miraculously ceased upon the first singing of those words by all the people, Sanctus; Sanctus, etc. Aristotle also makes mention of some that lasted two years; the cause whereof depends either upon the quality or quantity of the Exhalations, which cannot all get forth but in a long time, or are not strong enough to break the gates of their prison.  
The Fifth said, That to move the most ponderous Body, the Earth, requires the most active of all Agents, which is fire; whose centre the Pythagoreans therefore placed in the middle of the Earth; because the noblest Element deserves the noblest place, which is the middle, and for that 'tis necessary to the generations which are made there. Hence Maritime places, where most Vulcano's are observed, whose Fire is fed with the oily and unctuous humours of the adjacent Sea, are more obnoxious to Earthquakes; and the last eruption of Mount Vesuvius was preceded by a horrible Earthquake. As likewise the Island Sacrea, above mentioned, being first lifted up with a great noise and concussion, opened itself, and cast forth flame and ashes as far as the City Lipara, and some others of Italy. Now according to the different matter of these Fires, the concussions which they produce by attenuation of the inflamed Air are different; if it be nitrous, they are very violent; because Salt Petre being very Dry is suddenly fired in all its parts; and being of a terrestrial nature takes up more room when inflamed, than Sulphur which is fat and aerious, and consequently not so quickly inflameable in the whole, but only in its surface, by reason of its extreme humidity which checks the Fire; and when it is inflamed it takes not up so much room, being of itself aerious, and consequently needing less space when it is rarified to be converted into Fire, whence the tremors caused by it are less: But when the matter which feeds those Fires is bituminous, the tremors are moderate, because Bitumen is of a middle nature between the two former. Now because these materials when they begin to be inflamed have not strength enough to make the Earth tremble, till their Fire be increased proportionately to the enormous weight of the load which they are to move; their first effect reaches no farther than to trouble and infect by their vapours the springs of Subterranean Waters, as most susceptible of impression. Hence, according to the different taste, smell, and consistence of the water of Fountains and Wells, some have foretell Earthquakes; as Apollonius saith, that Pherecides having tasted the water of a spring in Scyros, foretell one which happened three days after. Moreover, if these vapours infect the Air too, the Earthquakes are followed by contagions.  
The Sixth said, That without determining the famous Question of the Earth's Motion, it may be said that it moves about the Heaven as a stone in a circle, it would have the same tremors and titubatious as those which Astronomers attribute to the Bodies of the Planets, besides the regular motions of their spheres; of which Agitations 'tis not strange if Men who are moved with it discern not the differences so well as they do those of the Heavens; since they who are in a Ship do not so well discern their own motion as that of others.   

II. Of Envy.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That 'tis no wonder Man is so miserable, since not only the evil but also the good of others render him equally unhappy. For if we think them unworthy of it, it afflicts us, and raises indignation. If it begets sadness in us for not having obtained as much, it causes Emulation; but if this good disgusts us merely because we are sorry that another enjoys it, it produces Envy; and these several affections are not to be confounded. For the two former are not any ways vicious, but oftentimes virtuous▪ and signs of a Soul well disposed; whereas the last is a gross vice, directly opposite to Charity, which is the life of the Soul, and to Humane Society, violating virtue, which is the principal bond of it, and when the same is so bright and manifest as not to fear its assaults; whose lustre it obscures, as much as possible, by its stinking breath, and black calumnies. Pride is the Mother of it, Self-love the Father, Treachery, Dissimulation, Detraction and Ruin, its Daughters. And as 'tis the eldest of all vices, so 'tis the most enormous, having cast Lucifer, and millions of Angels, out of Heaven, and by his snares caused the fall of Man through the persuasion of the Woman, who was ambitious to become a Goddess, and who as more weak and proud is more inclined to this passion then Man. Therefore Aristotle saith, that the Peacock, the proudest, is also the most envious of all Animals.  
The Second said, Other Vices have always some sort of pretext; Covetousness, the fear of want; and Ambition, doing service to the public; but Envy cannot find any, because it maligns what ever is laudable and good out of itself; herein much more pernicious than all other vices each of which is opposite but to one good, as Lust to Continence, Pride to Humility. But this sets itself to ruin, if it can, all the goods of the Body▪ of Forutne, and of the Mind; and so is a sworn Enemy of Mankind. Such it was in extremity, in that Manhater Timon, who invited all his fellow Citizens to come and hang themselves upon his Figtree before he cut it down to build with; in one Mutius a Roman, who being very sad, it was said of him, Either some Evil is happened to Mutius, or some good to some other. For the Envious looks only askew upon others prosperity, the thought of which incessantly gnaws his heart, and consumes him by drying up the blood in his veins. Which made the Poets represent Envy in the shape of a squinting woman, with a dull dejected countenance, of a livid complexion; her head wreathed with vipers, and all the rest of the body lean and ugly. Physicians say, Melancholy persons are most subject to it, by reason of that black humour which produces and is produced by it. 'Twas through envy that Tiberius put to death an excellent Architect, being unable to behold with a good eye a pendant Porch which he had built, and much less his invention of malleable Glass; and it so tormented the spirit of Caligula, that he burned all he could of Virgil's Works; and he could not endure the sight of handsome youths, but caused their goodly locks to be cut off that they might become deformed.  
The Third said, That envy, as vicious as it is, hath nevertheless some utility, not only amongst private persons to excite emulation amongst Artists, and make them strive who shall sell the best pennyworths; but also for the State, it being held a political maxim, to hinder as much as possible the grandeur of neighbouring States. And the Ostracism of Athens, although a balance to preserve democratical equality, was nevertheless an effect of Envy against such as had gotten most credit and authority in the City, whom they banished for ten years. Yea had envy no other good in it, but to afford occasion of exercising virtue, it were not unprofitable. The attempt to blemish Cato's reputation by making him appear 46 times in full Senate to justify himself from the accusations Envy had charged upon him, made him more famous. And the poison which it made Socrates drink, killed his body indeed, but rendered his memory immortal. The truth is, if the Greek Proverb hold good, which calls a life without envy unhappy, Envy seems in some manner necessary to beatitude itself. Whence Themistocles told one who would needs flatter him with commendations of his brave actions, that he had yet done nothing remarkable, since he had no enviers.  
The Fourth said, 'Tis such an irregular passion that it seems to aim at subverting the established order of nature, and making other laws after its own fancy; yea so monstrous that 'tis not a bare grief for another's good, or a hatred of choler, or such other passion; but a monster composed of all vicious passions, and consequently the most mischievous and odious of all..    

CONFERENCE LXXIV.  
I. Whence comes trembling in men. II. Of Navigation and Longitudes.  

I. Whence comes trembling in men.  
THe correspondence of the great to the little world required that, after the tremble of the earth, those should be spoken which happen to men, some of which seize but one part of the body, as the head, lips, hands or legs; some the whole body, with such violence sometimes that Cardan relates of a woman taken with such a trembling, that three strong persons could not hold her. 'Tis a symptom of motion hurt, in which the part is otherwise moved than it ought, being sometimes lifted up, and sometimes cast down. For in trembling there are two contrary motions. One proceeds from the motive faculty, endeavouring to lift up the member; which is done by retraction of the muscles towards their original, which by shortening themselves draw their tail to the head, and at the same time what is annexed thereunto. This motive power serves also to retain the elevated member in the posture wherein we would have it continue; the abbreviation of the Muscles not suffering it to return to its first situation. The other motion is contrary to the will, and to that of the motive power, the member being depressed by its own gravity. From which contrariety and perpetual war of these two motions arises trembling; one of them carrying the part as the will guides it, and the other resisting thereunto, which is done more speedily than the pulse, and with such short intervals, that the senses cannot distinguish any middle, and makes us doubt whether there be two motions or but one; as a ball sometimes returns so suddenly towards him that struck it, that the point of its reflection is not perceived. The causes are very different, as amongst others, the debility of the part and of the animal faculty, as in decrepit old men, impotent persons, and such as are recovering out of long and dangerous diseases, or who have fasted long; the weakness of the Nerve (the instrument of the animal spirits) its obstruction, contraction, or relaxation; the coarctation of the Arteries which send the vital spirits to the Brain, there to be made animal spirits, and proper for motion, as in fear which puts the whole body into an involuntary trembling. An Ague also does the same; the natural heat which resides in the arterial being carried to the relief of the labouring heart, and so the outward parts, particularly the nerves, whose nature is cold and dry, becoming refrigerated, and less capable of exercising voluntary motion.  
The Second said, That the actions of the motive faculty, as of all others, may be hurt three ways; being either abolished, diminished, or depraved. They are abolished in a Palsy which is a total privation of voluntary motion. They are diminished in Lassitude, caused either by sharp humours within, or by tension of the muscles and tendons, or by dissipation of the spirits. They are depraved in trembling, convulsion, horror and rigour, or shivering. Convulsion is a contraction of the muscles towards their original, caused either by repletion, or inanition. Rigour, shaking and concussion of all the muscles of the body accompanied with coldness and pain, is caused, according to Galen, by the reciprocal motion of natural heat, and its encounter with cold in the parts which it endeavours to expel; or, according to some others, by any sharp, mordicant and troublesome matter, which incommoding the muscles and sensitive parts, the expulsive faculty attempts to reject by this commotion. Horror differs not from Rigour but in degrees, this being in the muscles, and that only in the skin; produced by some matter less sharp, and in less quantity. But trembling being a depravation and perversion of motion cannot be known but by comparison with that which is regular. Now that voluntary motion may be rightly performed, the brain must be of a due temper for supplying animal spirits, and the nerves and parts rightly disposed. Hence the cause of tremble is either the distemper of the brain, or the defect of animal spirits, or the defect of animal spirits, or the bad disposition of the nerves and parts. A fitting temper being the first condition requisite to action; every intemperature of the brain, but especially the cold, is the cause it cannot elaborate spirits enough to move all the parts. But this defect of spirits comes not always from such bad temper, but also from want of vital spirits, which are sent from the heart to the brain by the arteries, to serve for matter to the animal spirits. These vital spirits are deficient, either when they are not generated in the ventricles of the heart through the fault either of matter, or of the generative faculty; or are carried elsewhere then to the brain, by reason of their concentration or effusion. As in all violent passions, these spirits are either concentred in the heart▪ as in fear and grief; or diffused from the centre to the circumference, as in joy, and not sent to the brain; and in these cases the motive faculty remains weakened, and uncapable of well exercising its motions. Lastly, the nerves being ill disposed by some distemper caused either by external cold, or other internal causes, or else being shrunk or stopped by some gross humours; not totally, for then there would be no motion at all; they cause tremble, which are imperfect motions, like those of Porters, who endeavouring to move a greater burden than they are able to carry, the weight which draws downwards, and the weakness of their faculty which supports it, causes in them a motion like to those that tremble.  
The Third said, That to these causes, Mercury, Hellebore, Henbane, Wine and Women, must be added. For they who deal with Quicksilver, who have super-purgations, use stupefactives and things extremely cold, and Venery in excess, and Drunkards, have all these tremble; according to the diversity of which causes, the remedies are also different. Gold is an Antidote against Mercury, which will adhere to it; Repletion against the second, Heat, Continence, and Sobriety, against the rest. Galen saith, that blood is sometimes to be let, by Hippocrates' example, that is, to refrigerate in order to cure trembling. Which if it come from the debility of the Brain and Nerves, they must be strengthened; if from defect or dissipation of vital spirits, they must be restored by good diet; if from plenitude, obstruction or compression of the nerves, the humour and peccant cause must be evacuated. But above all the rest the tremulation of old people is hardest to cure, in regard of the weakness and paucity of spirits, as also those that are hereditary and happen to the parts of the left side; because trembling denotes a deficiency of heat and spirits, which yet ought to be more vigorous in the left side, than the right, as being nearer the heart, the source of life.   

II. Of Navigation, and Longitudes.  
Upon the second Point, That the invention of Navigation, as of all other Arts, is due to Chance. For men beholding great beams swim in the water, first ventured to get upon them, then hollowed them, and joined a prow, rudder, and sides, representing the head, tail, and fins of Fishes, as their back doth the keel of the Ship; and this according to the different natures of seas, and divers uses of Trade and War; both being equally necessary to render a State potent and formidable. As Solomon sometimes by this means did, sending his Ships to Ophir (which some imagine Peru) and Tarsis, to fetch Gold, Sweet-wood, and other rarities. As likewise did the Tyrians, Phaenicians, Cretans, Athenians, and in our days almost all Nations. Without the Art of Navigation we should want Spices, and most Drugs which grow beyond the seas; and a great part of the world would have been unknown had it not been for the long Voyages of Columbus, Vesputius, Magellan, and Drake, who sailed round the world.  
The Second said, 'Twas not without reason that Cato repented of three things; of having told a secret to his Wife, of having spent a day without doing any thing, and of having gone upon the sea; and that Anacharsis said people in Ships are but a few inches distant from death, and therefore neither to be reckoned among the living, nor the dead, in regard of the infidelity of that Element. Hence Seneca saith, there is nothing to which men may not be brought, since they have been persuaded to Navigation; and Horace detests the first inventor of Ships. Nor is it less rashness to invade this Element destinated to Fish, than the Air which is appointed for Birds alone. Our forefathers had good reason to make their wills, when they went to sea. But since the use of the Compass it hath as much surpassed the observation of Stars and Shores (the sole guides of antiquity) in certainty, as the Compass would be surpassed by the invention of Longitudes, which would teach how to hold a course perfectly certain.  
The Third said, That to seek Terrestrial Longitudes is nothing else but to seek the difference of Meridian's, that is, the difference between the Meridian of an unknown and a known place; or to speak plainer, the Spherical Angle made by the Meridian of an unknown place with that of a known place. To attain which knowledge men have hitherto made use of four ways, which are all found unprofitable.  
The first is by an Instrument called a Contepas, or measure of Itinerary distance, which would be infallible if it were exact. For whoso hath the true distance between a known and an unknown place hath infallibly the angle comprehended by the Meridian's of the two places. For let B be a known place, and C an unknown place; let the distance between the place B, and the place C be the arch B C; if the said arch B C be known, the difference of the Meridian's shall also be known. For let A be the Pole of the World, and draw the arches A B, A C, which are the Meridian's of the places B and C. Now since the place B is known, the height of the Pole at the said place shall be also known, and consequently its compliment the arch A B. And although the place C be unknown, yet 'tis easy by the ordinary methods to take the height of the Pole; and so its compliment, which is the arch A C, will be likewise known. Now the arch B C is also known, since 'tis the distance of the places, and supposed known. Therefore in the Triangle B A C three sides being known, the Spherical angle B A C, contained by the said two Meridian's, shall be also known. Which was to be demonstrated. But being we have no way to understand the distance of B C exactly, therefore neither have we the angle B A C exactly.  
The second way were also infallible if it were practicable, and 'tis performed by a most exquisite and exact Watch. For setting forth from a known place with the said Watch, and having gone as far as you please, supposing the Watch to go equally, if you would know the difference between the Meridian of the place where you are and that whence you departed; you need only observe the hour at the unknown place, and compare it with the hour noted by your Watch; which if it be the same, than you are undoubtedly under the same Meridian. But if your Watch says one a clock, and at the unknown place it be two; this signifies that 'tis one a clock at the place whence you set forth; and so you are in a Meridian differing fifteen degrees from that of the place whence you came: and so in other cases.  
The third way depends upon the Needle excited by the Loadstone; for if you suppose a certain pole to which it is directed, and a regular declination, there will (undoubtedly) be formed a Triangle of three known sides, and you will have the difference of any two Meridian's infallibly. But because the variation of its declination is so great and uncertain that 'tis not possible to assign a certain pole to it, this invention is found as faulty as the rest.  
The fourth way is by the Moon. Which might be as well by the Sun, or any other Planet. But because the Moon in like time makes more sensible differences of change of place, therefore it may better afford the knowledge of longitudes. Supposing then that we have Tables of the Moon which do not fail a minute; and that 'tis possible to observe the place of the Moon's Centre within a minute where ever you be, you will, undoubtedly, have the longitude, by comparing the time, that is, the hour and the minute at which the Moon is found in that same place of Heaven in the Meridian for which the Tables are constructed, with the time when you find her at the said place in the unknown Meridian; and then by making the Aequation of the two times. But because the Moon's motion is swift, and that of the primum mobile swifter, 'tis found that if you miss but two minutes of the Moon's place, you will err a degree in terrestrial longitude, which under the Aequator makes sixty English miles; and so also if you err four minutes of an hour either in the time of the Tables, or in the time of the observations: and if the error of time be double, treble or quadruple, the error in longitude will likewise be multiplied. Now the Tables neither are nor can ever be exact, nor the observations made punctually enough for this operation. The reason of which latter is, that 'tis not sufficient to observe the Moon, but you must at the same time with her observe one or two fixed Stars. And, which is most difficult, you must not only observe the body of the Moon but her Centre. Now to have the Moon's Centre, you must have her Diametre; which appears at the same time greater to some, and lesser to others, according as the observer's sight is more or less acute. And the Parallaxes with the Refractions interposing too render this practice unprofitable; for these parallaxes and refractions are different in the very body of the Moon, the inferior part having greater refraction and parallax than the superior. Whence we never have any sure knowledge from the said refractions and parallaxes. For as for Parallaxes, we have indeed very handsome Theories of them, but such as cannot be reduced into practice with the preciseness requisite for Longitudes. And, as for the refractions of the air, they are yet more incertain; considering that we neither have, nor ever can have, any theory of them, by reason of the continual variation of the density and rarity of vapours. So that 'twere requisite to have Tables for every Horizon, made by the experience of many years; and yet they would be very uncertain, because the mutations happening in the air would render them unprofitable. Whence not only at sea but also at land 'tis impossible to have exact observations of the Moon's Centre; so that Cespeda, a Spanish Author, had reason to say, that this operation required the assistance of an Angel. From the defect of observations proceeds in part; the defect of the Tables of the Moon's motion. I say, in part, for supposing the observations were exact, yet we could not have exact Tables unless we had the true Hypothesis of the Moon's motion and course. Whence the Tables will be different among themselves, which are made upon the same observations, but several Hypotheses. Thus we see Origanus and Kepler agree not in their Ephemerideses, but differ sometimes ten minutes, though both made them upon the same observations of Tycho Brahe, but upon different Hypotheses. And thus, there being no true Hypothesis of the Moon, we can never have exact Tables though the observations should be such; and, consequently, since the ways of finding Longitudes by the Moon are Observations and Tables, and neither the one nor the other can be so exact as they ought; men can never find Longitudes this way, unless God afford them some other light of which they have not hitherto the least glimmering. Wherefore Appian, Veret, Kepler, Metius, and many others, who have spoken of the means of ascertaining Navigation by the Moon, had reason to judge the practice thereof impossible, as was remonstrated two years ago to one that here made a proposal of it as his own; of which we are not likely to see the execution. The most sure way we have to find these Longitudes is by help of the Lunar Eclipses. For the beginning of them being observed in two different places, the difference of the times of their beginnings will give the difference of the Meridian's. But this is an expedient more profitable to rectify Geographical Charts, then serviceable to Navigation.    

CONFERENCE LXXV.  
I. Of the Leprosy, why it is not so common in this Age as formerly. II. Of the ways to render a place populous.  

I. Of the Leprosy.  
FOr right understanding the nature of this disease, 'tis requisite to know, that as the Brain is the source of cold diseases, so the Liver is the furnace of hot, such as this is: although its debilitation of the faculties makes some account it cold. For albeit the first qualities be rather the supposed then true parents of diseases, yet being more perceptible to us then other causes, and always accompanying them, therefore our reason more readily pitches upon them. Now the Liver, either by its own fault, or that of the preceding concoction, which it cannot correct, begets adust blood; and this by further adustion in the Veins (through the same excess of heat which it derives into them) becoming atrabilarious, is as such attracted, and retained by every part of the body, yet not assimilated, as it ought to be, in colour and consistence, but turned into a scurfie, black and putried flesh. If that impure blood be carried but to one part, and make a tumour in it, it makes a Cancer in it, either open, or occult and not ulcerated; which Hypocrates accounted so desperate an evil that he counsels not to meddle with it; whence 'tis vulgarly called Noli me tangere. So that what a Cancer is in some part of the body) as in the Paps or Breasts, by reason of their spongy substance more disposed thereunto) that is a Leprosy in the whole body.  
The Second said, No humours in the body are so malignant as to cause a Leprosy, unless they be infected with some venomous quality. The melancholy humour, in whatever quantity, causes only Quartan Agues; or if it degenerate into black choler it causes that kind of folly which they call melancholy. The bilious humour causes Frenzy, never the Leprosy, how adust soever it be, without a pestilential and contagious quality: whence Fernelius defines it a venomous disease in the earthy substance of the body, whose nature it wholly altars. For the melancholy earthy humour having once conceived this poison derives it to the bowels and all other parts; which being corrupted and infected with it, by degrees, turn all food into a juice alike venomous; wherewith the whole body being nourished acquires a like nature, and retains the same till death; that gross humour being more apt than any other to retain the qualities once imprinted on it. Now this disease comes either by birth, or by contagion, or by the proper vitiosity of the body. As for the first, 'tis certain, if the Parents be infected with this venomous disease, they transmit the same to their children; the formative faculty not being able to make any thing but suitably to the matter it works upon. Many hold (but groundlessly) that women conceiving during their purgations bring forth leprous children. As for the second, Leprosy hath this common with all other contagious diseases, to communicate itself not only by contact of bodies, but also by inspiration of the air infected with the breath of the leprous, or the virulent smell of their Ulcers. As for the third, which is the proper vitiosity of the body, 'tis produced when a great quantity of black choler putrifies and becomes venomous. And there are several species of Leprosy, according to the humour, by adustion whereof that black choler is generated, whether blood, melancholy, yellow choler and salt phlegm. The first being less malignant makes red Leprosy, and the blood having acquired excessive acrimony by adustion, amongst other effects, corrodes the root of the hair, and makes baldness; The second caused by torrefying of melancholy makes black, green, or livid Leprosy, which is called Elephantiasis, because it renders the skin rough like that of Elephants. The third, produced of yellow choler burnt, makes yellow Lepers, and is called Leonine, from the terrible aspect of those that are tainted with it, or from the lips and forehead which it makes them elevate like Lions. The last, caused by salt phlegm, makes white Lepers.  
The Third said, That the material cause of Leprosy being any gross humour, and the efficient a vehement heat; when both these causes meet in a sufficient degree, Leprosy is contracted by the ill habit of the body. Hence men are more obnoxious to it then women who have less heat; for want of which Eunuches are also free from it, and many have voluntarily made themselves such, to avoid it. Men of perfect age, as between 35 and 48 years, hot and dry, fall most easily into this disease. And of these Southern people more than Northern. Whence Alexandria, yea all Egypt and Judea were most pestered with it; but especially the latter, where even the walls and vessels contracted leprosy. Which Interpreters more admire then comprehend, and gave occasion to Manetho the Historian (who is refuted by Josephus) to say, that this Leprosy forced the Egyptians to drive the Jews out of their Country. On the contrary, Germany knew it not for a long time, nor Italy before Pompey, in whose time his Soldiers brought it from Egypt; the Kings whereof, as Pliny relates, were wont to assuage the malignity by an inhuman and abominable remedy, a bath of little children's blood. But the Scythians were always free from it, as well by reason of the coldness of their climate, as the familiar use of milk, whose thin and wheyie part hinders the generation of melancholy, and the other parts moisten and temper heat. 'Tis also produced by food of gross and glutinous juice (as Swine's flesh, for this cause forbidden to the Jews) by the Hemorrhoids stopped, and other suppressions of blood. Now 'tis not so frequent in these days as of old; first because being brought hither by strangers, it appeared upon them and some of their descents, but could not long consist with the mildness of our air, and so became extinct of itself by the separation of such as were most infected with it; as Peaches are poison in Persia, but delicious fruits amongst us. Secondly, because it being ignominious to be separated from all society, the few Lepers that remained would not appear, unless they were forced; whilst in the mean time the revenues of Hospitals designed for their support have been seized by such as favoured their concealment the better to enjoy the same.  
The Fourth said, The decreasing of this disease, as well as of other Epidemical diseases, is to be attributed to certain Constellations. Besides, perhaps the ignorance of former times took the Pox for the Leprosy; and so not knowing how to cure the Pox so well as at this day, it was communicated to more persons. The accidents of these two diseases are almost the same, both are cured with Mercury, whose excessive coldness and humidity corrects the heat and dryness of the Leprosy, and by its extreme tenuity penetrating the more solid parts wherein the Leprosy lies more successfully encounters this atrabilarious venom then Mithridate and Vipers do, although much commended by Galen, who relates five stories of such as were cured therewith, but we have experiences to the contrary in these latter ages, refrigerating and humecting Medecines having been found more profitable than drying, as Vipers are; which, whether our climate, or some other unknown cause, occasion the alteration, rather increase then diminish this evil. Nevertheless, what is reported of the means to cure the Leprosy, especially if hereditary or inveterate, must be understood of a palliative or preservative, not of a perfect cure; which is difficult in the beginning of this malady, when only the bowels are tainted; very difficult in its increase, when the signs begin to appear outwardly; impossible in its State when the members come to be ulcerated; and desperate in its declination, when they begin to drop off. Although Paracelsus, by his great work promises to cure not only men but also all imperfect metals, which he terms leprous.   

II. Of the ways to render a place populous.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, All our great designs aim at Eternity, and among the means of attaining thereunto, Princes have found none more magnificient, and correspondent to their grandeur, then to build Cities after their own names. Such was that of Alexander in the founding of Alexandria, of Constantine in that of Constantinople, of the Caesars in so many Cities of their names; and in our time, of the King of Sweden in Gustavousburg, of the King of Spain in Philippe, of the Duke of Nevers in Charle-ville, and of some others. But to accomplish this great design, 'tis to be considered that the business is to be done with men, who are drawn by as many ways as they consist of parts, to wit, Body and Soul. And because most men are sensual, therefore things relating to corporeal conveniences are most attractive. Amongst which, regard is principally to be had to the Air, as that which we breathe incessantly, to meat and drink, which are of daily necessity. Hence we see few healthful and fertile places desert; whereas barren and desert places, what ever care be taken, always return to their first nature. If those conveniencies be wanting in the place, they they must at least be near hand, and attainable by commerce of Seas and Rivers; which also are advantageous for the vent of homebred commodities. But the most necessary condition of all is safety; which hath rendered Holland, the Adriatic Gulf, and almost all Islands populous, as it sometimes assembled many outlaws and miserable persons at the first building of Rome; the same course being also practised by Timoleon to populate Syracuse. For Man being naturally a sociable creature, the cause of their assembling together was not the casual concourse of atoms, as Epicurus feigned, nor the wonder of fire, as Vitruvius saith, nor their meeting near pits and springs, much less Music, Eloquence, or Philosophy; but only their natural inclination to preserve themselves, and be secure, first, against wild beasts, and then against their enemies, who were kept off with walls. Yet as a fortress needs a strong bulwark, so a frontier Town cannot easily become populous, the guarding of it diverting its inhabitants from attending more necessary Arts, as Agriculture, Manufacture, and Trade. For most Cities are rendered populous by some Manufactures, both buyers and sellers resorting to such places where there is most plenty and most vent. Wherefore 'tis one of the best expedients to invite the most excellent Artists from all parts of the world, by immunities, privilege, and rewards. As to the Soul, Religion bears a great stroke in this matter, obliging men to Voyages, Pilgrimages, Offerings, and other devotions, in some places rather than others. And next are Academies and Universities, all sorts of Sciences and Disciplines.  
The Second said, That a City being an assembly and union of many persons in order to live happily, filling it with people is not so necessary as exact observation of Laws; which consisting only in order, are commonly neglected in places where multitude causeth confusion. Hence Solon, Lycurgus, and most ancient Legislators, limited the Inhabitants of their Cities to a certain number, which Hippodamus the Milesian restrained to ten thousand men; and at this day, in some Cities, as Lisbon and Naples, 'tis not lawful to erect new buildings, which hath also been frequently prohibited at Paris. For the same reason many Nations have discharged themselves of their people by colonies, or sending them to the conquest of other Territories, as did sometimes the Gauls under Bremus; the Goths, Huns, alan's, Hernles, and Vandals, under Attila and Alaric; and the Swisses are at this day in the service of most Princes and States.  
The Third said, That the true strength of a State, both for offence and defence, consists in the number of men, and therefore a City flourishes according to its populousness. The small number of inhabitants limited by Legislators hath sometimes been the loss of their Republics; that of Sparta in the battle of Leuctra and Athens, in one single battle against Philip; as it would also have been of the Roman Empire at the defeat of Cannae, where 50000. Romans died upon the place, without the supply which they found in the almost innumerable multitude of the Citizens of Rome, rendered populous by the residence of Kings, Consuls, and Emperors, and the supreme Tribunal of Justice which the Senate dispensed thence to all the world, with whose spoils it was enriched. Whose increase was also promoted by the rigorous laws against coelibacy, and the privileges granted to such as had many children; for propagating which, before Christiavity, they permitted polygamy and divorce, and authorised concubinage by legitimation of natural issues. Moreover, the felicity of a City lying in the plenty and sufficiency of all things, which is not found except amongst a great number of inhabitants who interchangeably communicate their commodities; the most populous City is the most happy. And experience manifests, that the Laws and Justice are better administered in great Cities, then in hamblets and villages; especially when Concord, whereby small things grow, is maintained therein.    

CONFERENCE LXXVI.  
I. Of Madness. II. Of Community of goods.  

I. Of Madness.  
SInce Man by his treason first destroyed the goodly order established by God in nature, endeavouring to advance himself above his Creator, the beasts have, also, in just punishment of his crime, shaken off his yoke; some offending him by their breath, others by their sight, some with the voice, most with biting; which if venomous, as that of Serpents and mad Dogs, imprints a malignant quality in the whole habit of the Body, whose temper it destroys. That of mad-dogs, although less painful than any, yet more horrible, and so much more dangerous in that it oftentimes seizes upon the noble parts without being perceived till the madness be at the height. The signs for knowing this Evil in its birth, in order to prevent it, are not taken from the wound which is altogether like other wounds, but from the dog that made it. For if he be mad, he neither eats nor drinks, although he thirst extremely; he pants and blows, hangs out his tongue, which is yellow and tinctured with choler, he casts forth dry and clotted froth at the mouth and nose, hangs down his ears, looks wildly with sparkling eyes, flies at known and unknown, and bites without barking; he is lean, carries his tail between his legs clinging to his belly, he runs fast, and stops suddenly, hits upon every obstacle without going out of his way, and other dogs avoid him. But if the dog cannot be seen, than bruised nuts or hot bread must for some hours be laid upon the wound, or else meal tempered with the blood running from it, given to a hungry dog or hen, who will die if the wound were made by a mad dog.  
The Second said, Madness is a malady oftentimes with deliration, caused in an Animal by a particular poison, communicated to Man, with extreme aversion against all liquors, especially water. It happens to Wolves, Oxen, Horses, Cats, and almost all Animals, but most frequently to Dogs, either by reason of their melancholy temper, or a particular inclination which they have to madness, as the swine hath to leprosy. For 'tis an Evil that is not known but by its effects; 'tis a poison particularly apt to be communicated to Man by biting, by the slaver, foam, or feeding of an enraged Animal, not depending on the first qualities, but acting with its whole substance: As appears in that it reigns in great colds and excessive heats, but is cured with medicines which act not by their first qualities, but by their whole substance, as the ashes of freshwater Crabs, and Mithridate; and, according to Dioscorides, 'tis contracted by qualities altogether occult, as to sleep very long in the shadow of a Service Tree; and he saith, he saw a Carder of Wool become mad only by having long beaten his wool with a wand of Cornel Tree. The same is affirmed of a plant called Dog-berry Tree. Yet the most part, with Matthiolus and Fernelius, hold, that these causes may awaken the hidden evil, and augment it, but not produce it, unless in such as have been mad before. But how comes this poison to lie hid so long, that Fracastorius saith it seldom appears before the one and twentieth day, commonly after the thirtieth, in many after four or six months, and sometimes after divers years; seeing all poisons being an enemy to the Heart, should be carried thither suddenly by the Arteries. This seems to proceed from the proportion of the Agent and Patient, and their several resistance, differing according to the degrees of the poison, the diversity of tempers or food, climates, or the part hurt. For poison being contrary to our nature by particular malignity cannot be wholly subdued by our natural heat, and so may preserve its malignity in the body a long while, without manifesting itself till it have first introduced dispositions requisite to its reception, which happens to be sooner or later according to the good or bad temper of the body; whence in several persons bitten by the same dog, madness appears in some sooner, in others later. As some have the small pox when they are well in years, others in their infancy, though most Physicians agree that 'tis an Ebullition of some venomous matter contracted by every one in his mother's womb, by impurity of the menstruous blood retained during the time of breeding. So the choleric are sooner tainted with madness and all other poisons then the phlegmatic; such as are lean and have large veins sooner than fat who have small. The skin, artery, vein, nerve and muscle, variously communicate this poison. The power of Imagination also contributes much to it. Whence Aetius relates, that a Philosopher having by his Ratiocination concluded that the dog which appeared to him in the water of the bath, and made him afraid, was nothing but an effect of his perverted Fancy, there being no affinity between a bath and a dog, drunk largely of it and was cured.  
The Third said, That the signs of madness are anxiety, causeless anger and fear, heaviness and griping of the stomach, the hiccock, and other convulsive motion, hoarseness of the voice, sweeting of the countenance, and contraction of the whole body; but the most certain is the total aversion from water (although the thirst be vehement) which is the certainest remedy in this case, whence some have been cured by being unawares plunged into water, and so made to drink whether they would or no. This Hydrophobia cannot be from the image of the dog appearing in the water to the patient beholding his own terrible aspect. For some have been possessed with aversion from water without the biting of a dog; as Platerus tells of a woman who became Hydrophobous by having abode a whole night near a river. Much less can it come from the dryness caused in them by this poison; for than they would rather desire drink; but it proceeds from a particular antipathy of this poison to water, so great, that if the fresh wound of a dog's biting be with cold water, it becomes incurable; the poison flying water so much, that at its approach it retires from the surface inwardly, whence it cannot afterwards be expelled.  
The Fourth said, That the Fancy alone was capable to cause this aversion from water, notwithstanding the natural inclination of the parts requiring humectation. For that faculty is very strong in these Patients, having the image of the dog always present, and so they imagine that they see it in the water; as the Fool Antiphon thought he continually saw his own in the air. Yea, possibly, as a little seed is so configurated by the formative virtue that it becomes another animal, and in Plants a hundred grains are made of one: so this poison containing the idea of the whole substance of the dog, by which alone it acts, when received into the body, and assisted by natural heat produces new species of the dog; which being carried by the spirits to the Brain are so strongly imprinted in the imagination that reason can hardly rectify them; and being again represented in the water by emission of the animal spirits, in vision, make the patients abhor water, and all liquid things. Which will not be thought so irrational by those that maintain that the foam of a mad dog hanging on the hem of linen produces little animals of a doglike shape; nor by those who have observed the sediments of the Urines of these Patients to have the same figure, as if the whole man became dog in this malady, as he becomes all wolf in lycanthropy.  
The Fifth said, The mind and body being both disordered in this malady, require each a distinct cure. The mind must be settled, and diverted from that sad object of dogs, and the most usual way in France is to be bathed in sea-water. As for the body, the poison must be drawn out of the new wound by Cupping-glasses, Scarifications, Suctions, Cauteries, and attractive Cataplasms, such as that of pitch and Opopanax dissolved in Vinegar, which Galen saith is infallible; ligatures made upon the wound if the part admit them, or else encompassed with defensatives, as Dragon's blood, and Bole Armenick mingled with the white of an egg; then some Antidotes or Alexiteries to strengthen the principal parts, and alter the malignity of the poison; as the Herb called Alyssum, because it extinguishes madness, the ashes of Crevish, Mistletoe of the Oak, Scordium, Dittany, Angelica, and blessed Thistle. Of all which remedies, as also of the purgatives, the dose must be double, and so proportionate to the greatness of the evil; but they are unprofitable when the Patient is already averse from water and liquid things, only two, of which Themison the Physician is one, being recorded to have been cured by them.   

II. Of Community of goods.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That a City is a society established in order to living well; and amity being the foundation of society, what conduceth to preserve it in a City ought to be exactly observed. Such is community of goods, so much desired by Plato, that in his Republic he could not suffer the words Meum & Tuum, which he accounted the original of all disorders happening in States; and, as they say, practised by Pythagoras too amongst his disciples, as by our monastics. As also by the Garamantes, a people of Africa, as Mela reports, and by the brahmin's, Esteans, and Gymnosophists. Whilst the Lacedæmonians observed it, their State was the most flourishing of Greece. The example of the first Christians is express, who sold all that they had, and laid the money at the Apostles feet; and Ananias, with his wife Sapphira, died for having kept back part of the price of their inheritance sold to this end. For the condemning of the Anabaptists of Westphalia under Munster, who practised this community, was for their Heresy which they covered with this specious pretext. And Diodorus Siculus relates that among the Aethiopians community of goods makes so perfect friendship, that friends not only will conform to one another by the equality of the goods of fortune; but also when one of them becomes blind, maimed or lame, they deprive themselves of the same members, accounting it reasonable to have community not only of goods, but also of evils, the burden being lessened by division, and more supportable by example. But good is greater when communicated to more; communicativeness being a quality which belongs to the best things in the world, as to Light and the Sun, yea to God, who as he is goodness itself, so he is the most communicative of all beings, having communicated himself not only, in eternity, by the generation of the Word and procession of the Holy Ghost, but in time, by the production of all his creatures.  
The Second said, That indeed some goods are the more excellent by being communicated, as the Virtues and Sciences are increased the more they are exercised and taught. But 'tis not so with the goods of fortune, which diminish by communication and use. Whence men are not sparing of the first, but very much of the latter, restraining the use thereof wholly to themselves. Now although community of goods seems founded in nature, all things having been common at first, and appropriated afterwards by the covetousness of the occupants; yet 'tis directly contrary to the felicity of a City, which consists not only in a society of Men, but of Men of different conditions, the meanest of which being commonly most necessary in a State would not be exercised if all were equally rich and powerful. And if the necessity of Hunger, which sometimes taught Pies and Crows to speak at Rome, had not pressed most of the first inventors of Arts, the same would be yet to discover. Nothing is more beautiful in Nature then Variety, nor yet in Cities. Besides, Men being apt to neglect the public, in comparison of their private interest, were goods common, they would be careless of preserving or increasing them, and rely upon the industry of others. Thus this equality would beget laziness, whilst they that laboured most could hope for no more than they that did nothing at all. Moreover, if Wives and Children were common, as Socrates, in Plato, would have them, it would be a great hindrance to propagation; Children would not own their Parents, nor these their Children, and so there would be no paternal, filial, nor conjugal love, which yet are the surest foundations of humane society. Incests and Parricides would be frequent, and there would be no place for the exercise of most virtues, as of Chastity and Friendship, (the most perfect of all virtues) much less of Liberality and Magnificence, since nothing should be given but what belongs alike to all; nor would any be capable of receiving.  
The Third said, That in a City, which is a society of companions, some things must be necessarily enjoyed in common, as Public Places, Havens, Fairs, Privileges, Walls, Town-houses, Fortresses, and public charges. But not all things, in regard of the inconveniences which would follow thereupon; and therefore Plato was forced to reform his first imaginary Republic, and make another more suitable to the humours of men; permitting every one the possession of some goods, yet with this restriction, that he would not have any become too unproportionably rich.  
The Fourth said, That Plato's design, in his Republic, was, to conjoin action and contemplation; he would have a City first Mistress of herself, then of the world; more venerable than formidable to its neighbours; less rich than just, but sober, temperate, chaste, and, especially, religious. And to render it such, he conceived, that by removing all impediments from within by equality of goods, he traced out the way to contemplation, which is the supreme good whereunto men aspire; and therefore community of goods which is conducive thereunto, cannot be too highly esteemed. But in this Age it would deprive all goods of that name, by rendering them common; and there would be no common good, if there were none particular.    

CONFERENCE LXXVII.  
I. Of Sorcerers. II. Of Erotick, or Amorous Madness.  

I. Of Sorcerers.  
THe malignant Spirit's irreconcilable to humane nature exalted above his own, is such, that he is not contented with doing all the mischief he can by himself, but employs his Ministers and Officers to that purpose; as God, whose Ape he is, employs his holy Spirits in his works. These Officers are Magicians and Sorcerers. The former are such as being either immediately instructed by the Devil, or by Books of Magic, use characters, figures, and conjurations, which they accompany either with barbarous and insignificant words, or some perversely taken out of the Holy Scripture; by which means they make the Devil appear, or else give some answer by sound, word, figure, picture, or other sign; making particular profession of Divination. Sorcerers are their servants, aiming only to do mischief; and Sorcery is a species of Magic, by which one hurts another by the Devils help. And as the operation of the Devil is requisite thereunto, so is the consent of the Sorcerers and Gods permission, without which one hair falls not from our heads. This consent is grounded upon a compact, either express or tacit; the former whereof is made by rendering homage, either immediately to the Evil Spirit, or to the Magician in his name, or by addressing a request to him. Commonly they take an oath of fidelity in a circle described upon the ground; the Devil herein, as in other things, imitating the Deity, which is represented by a Circle. A tacit compact is when one makes use of such means learned from a Magician or magical books, known to be such, or sometimes ignorantly. But the most ordinary means which they use in their witchcrafts, are powders, which they mingle with food, or else infect the body, clothes, water, or air. Amongst which the black powders are designed to procure death; the grey or red, to cause sickness; and the white to cure; either when they are forced to it, or in order to some greater mischief; although this virtue depend not any ways upon their colour, nor always upon their qualities. Sometimes they perform their witcheries with words, either threatenings or praises. Not that these have any virtue in themselves, any more than straws, herbs, and other things wherewith they bewitch people; but because the Devil is by covenant to produce such or such effects by the presence of these things; showing himself a faithful performer in certain things, to the intent he may at last deceive them in all.  
The Second said, That the charms of Sorcerers differ according to the end whereunto they are designed; some cause sleep, and that by potions, charms, and other enchantments; the most usual of which are pieces of a dead body fastened to the house, enchanted candles made of a particular wick and fat, or of the feet and hands of dead persons anointed with Oil which the Devil gives them; these they either light up, or place candles at each finger; and so long as this dismal light lasts, they in the house remain in a deep sleep. Other enchantments are to procure Love, some of which act either within or without the body, consisting of what is most sacred in Religion, and most filthy in Nature; (so abominable is this practice, and done in hatred of the Creator) some likewise procure hatred, hinder generation, make women miscarry, increase their pains of childbearing, dry up the milk, breed thorns, pieces of glass and iron, knives, hair, and such other preternatural things, in the body. Of all which magical effects some indeed are real, but the most part are prestigious. The real are when the Devil makes use of natural causes for such an effect, by applying actives to passives, according to the most perfect knowledge which he hath of every things essence and properties; having lost no gifts of Nature by sin, but only those of Grace. But when the effect is above his power, or God permits it not, than he makes use of delusions to cover his impotence, making appearance of what is not, and hindering perception of what really is. Such was Gyges' ring, which rendered him invisible when he pleased; and Pasetus' feasts, from which the guests departed with intolerable hunger; as also the money wherewith he paid his Merchants, who found nothing at night in their bags. And that famous Simon Magus, as Saint Clement reports, seemed to create a man in the Air, rendered himself invisible, appeared with several faces, flew in the Air, penetrated rocks, turned himself into a sheep and a goat, commanded a sickle to reap corn, as it did more alone than ten labourers, and by this means deluded the eyes of all the world, except those of Saint Peter. Such was also, in the days of our Fathers, one Trisulcan, who to defame his Curate, made him think that he was playing at cards, whereas he was turning over his breviary, whereupon he flung it upon the ground; and M. Gonin being hanged on a gibbet, the first precedents mule was seen hanging in his place. Their transports are sometimes real, sometimes imaginary, the Devil keeping them in a deep sleep all the while.  
The Third said, That the power of Evil Spirits, whose instruments Sorcerers are, is so limited that they cannot either create or annihilate a straw, much less produce any substantial form, or cause the real descent of the Moon, or hinder the Stars motion, as Heathen Antiquity stupidly believed. Indeed, they are able to move all sublunary things; so they cause Earthquakes, the Devil either congregting Exhalations in its hollownesses, or agitating the Air included therein: Sopater having been put to death for so tying up the winds that no merchandise could be transported to Byzantium. And Philostratus relates, that Apollonius saw two tubs or tuns among the brahmin's, which being opened, there arose most vehement winds and rain; and shut again, the Air became calm and serene. Olaus also testifies the like of the Laplanders and Finlanders, who sold winds to Merchants. Moreover, the Devils are called by the Apostle, Princes of the Air; they cause Hail, Thunder, Rain, and Fire, to fall where they please; yet always conditionally that God lets the bridle loose to them, as he did when he burned Job's servants and flocks, and overthrew the house wherein his children were, with a whirlwind. So in the year 1533. a Sorcerer burned the whole Town of Silthoc in Sweden to the ground. And as they can obscure, so they can infect the Air, and more easily the waters, stopping them and making them run backwards, which Pliny saith himself saw in his time. They kill Animals by infecting them or their pastures, or else suffocate them, by entering into them; as they did the swine of the Gadarenes. They can also extinguish the plenty of a Country, by transporting the fatness of it elsewhere, not by virtue of the Sorcerers words; much less is it by those that they introduce flies, grasshoppers, and caterpillars, or other infects, into a place, either assembling them together, or producing them out of congruous matter.  
The Fourth said, That the effects of Nature and Art are to be distinguished from those of enchantments; for want of which satisfaction some jugglers pass for Sorcerers among the vulgar, who are apt to apprehend supernatural means, when they are ignorant of the natural or artificial causes. For removing of which calumny, C. Furius Cresnius being accused of having bewitched his neighbour's fields, and transported all their fertility into his own, brought his servants, his oxen, and plough, into the Senate, declaring that these were all his charms. Moreover, many times the sterility imputed to Sorcerers proceeds from God's anger, who makes the Heaven iron, and the Earth brass, for their wickedness. So when a private person arrives to great honour or estate suddenly, though it be by his merit, yet the generality of people, the meanest of which account themselves worthy of the same fortune, attribute such extraordinary progresses to the Devil. And yet 'tis a rare thing, if ever heard of, that any one was enriched by the Devil; either because he reserves his riches for Antichrist wherewith to seduce the Nations; or because God doth not suffer it, lest men should forsake his service for that of Devils, and the good should be too sorely afflicted by the wicked.   

II. Of Amorous Madness.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That Love being not very wise of itself, 'tis no hard matter for it to become extravagant; for it cares not for mediocrity, and, consequently, is subject to most tragical accidents. It's Excess is called Erotick, or Amorous Madness, which is a species of melancholy deliration, caused by the continual representation of the thing loved, which possesses the Fancy of the poor Lovers that they can think of nothing else, and many times forget to eat, drink, and sleep, and the other necessary actions of life. 'Tis different according to diversity of temper of brain and body, the degree of the melancholy humour, and the profession of those that are possessed with it. Hence melancholy persons are fullest of flatuosities and Spirits, and the sanguine, as having most blood, are most subject to it. They are known by their hollow and languishing eyes, inequality of pulse and visage, especially when the party loved is spoken of or seen; by which means Galen discovered the Love-sickness of a Roman Lady, and Erasistratus that of Antiochus, Seleuous's Son, for his Mother in law Stratonice. This distemper is the more dangerous, because 'tis pleasing to those that are tormented with it; and hard to cure, because they fear nothing more than their cure, being fond of their fetters. But being a disease of the Mind, the surest remedy is to divert from the thought of what they love, and to avoid idleness, the mother of lasciviousness. The body also must be conveniently purged from its predominant humours, according to which these patients differ; the sanguine are merry, and laugh continually, and oftentimes alone, love songs and dances; the choleric are froward, and so furious that some have killed themselves through the violence of their passions; and Romances are full of such persons. The melancholy are pensive, solitary, and sad; that dull and cold humour hebitating the souls motion. If this distemper proceed from abundance of geniture, remedies must be used which extinguish it, as Rue, Purslane, Lettuce, Water-lilly, Willow-leaves, Coriander seeds, Agnus Castus, Camphir, and Mint.  
The Second said, As Love is the original, so 'tis the Abridgement of all Passions. You may see these poor Lovers in the same hour love and hate, fly and desire, rejoice and sorrow, fear and dare, be angry without a cause, and be pacified again with less reason; in brief, never to have their Minds settled, any more than their bodies, in the same posture and complexion alike. Whence many have thought this malady produced by enchanted Drinks or Philtres; which may indeed make one amorous, but not determine him to a certain person; besides that these Drinks cannot act upon our Will which is incorporeal, nor captivate its liberty to a particular object; unless the Devil have a hand in the business.  
The Third said, That the famousest of all Philtres is Hippomenes, powdered and taken knowingly by the Lover. 'Tis a little black and round piece of flesh, about the bigness of a dry fig, found upon a Colt's forehead new foaled; whence it must be taken betimes, else the Mare bites it off, and if she be deceived of it, never affects the foal afterwards; and therefore 'tis called by Virgil, Matri praereptus Amor. The same effect is attributed to the seed of Mares, to a plant called Hippomanes, and, by Pliny, to the hair of a Wolf's tail, the fish Remora, the brain of a Cat, and a Lizard; and by Wierus, to Swallows starved to death in an earthen pot, the bones of a green Frog excarnated by Pismires, the right parts of which, he saith, conciliate Love, and the left hatred. But to show the vanity and impurity of these inventions, most Philtres are taken from Animals generated of corruption, excrements, and other filthy and abominable things; and commonly, all rather excite Fury then Love, as appears by many to whom Cantharideses have been given; and Caligula, who was rendered mad by a drink of his wife Cesonia; one Frederick of Austria, and the Poet Lucretius, by a Philtre given him by his Wife Lucilia. Love is free, and fixes not by constraint; 'tis not taken in at the mouth, but the eyes, the graces of the body being the most powerful charm, as Olympia Wife of Philip of Macedon acknowledged, when being jealous that her Husband loved a young Lady that was said to have given him amorous potions, the Queen sent for her, and having beheld her great Beauty, said that she had those Philtres in herself. Now if these gifts of the body be accompanied with those of the mind, and the party endued therewith testify Love to another, 'tis impossible but the affection will become mutual, Love being the parent of Love; whence the Poets feigned two Cupids, Eros, and Anteros; and Ovid, an intelligent person in this matter, knew no surer course than this, Vt ameris amabilis esto.  
The Fourth said, Love is a spiritual thing, and consequently produced by means of the same nature. Hence an ill report, which is a thing not only incorporeal, but commonly fantastical and imaginary, extinguishes all Love for a person otherwise lovely as to the graces of the body. And the choice between equal Beauties shows that Love is not founded upon the outside. Wherefore they take the wisest course to get themselves loved who use inductions and persuasions, which are the common means to make marriages. By all which it appears, that Amorous Madness is a distemper of the mind, and as such to be cured.    

CONFERENCE LXXVIII.  
I. Why the Sensitive Appetite rules over Reason. II. Whether Speech be natural, and peculiar to Man.  

I. Why the Sensitive Appetite rules over Reason.  
APpetite is an inclination of every thing to what is good for itself. There are three sorts in Man. First, the Natural, which is in plants who attract their nourishment, and also in some inanimate things, as the Loadstone and Iron; yea, in the Elements, as the dry earth covets water, and all heavy bodies tend to their centre. 'Tis without Knowledge and Will, even in Man, for all natural actions are performed best in sleep. Secondly, the Sensitive, common to Man and Beast, which some erroneously deny to be a humane faculty, because 'tis the seat of the Passions, the enemies of Reason which constitutes Man. But the encounter of it with Reason argues their distinction. Thirdly, the Rational, called the Will, which is Mistress of the former two; and besides makes use of Reason, for the knowing of one or more things. And because desire cannot be without knowledge, therefore the Sensitive Appetite presupposes the knowledge of the Imagination, and the Will that of the Understanding; but the Natural Appetite depends on that of a First Cause, which directs every natural form to its particular good, though it know not the same. Now 'tis demanded, how the Mistress comes to obey the Servants, notwithstanding the Maxim, That the Will tends to nothing but what is good, which cannot be without truth; and this is not such, unless it be approved by the Intellect. It seems to me improper, to say that the Sensitive Appetite prevails over Reason, but rather hinders it by its disturbance from pronouncing sentence, as a brawling Lawyer doth a Judge by his noise.  
The Second said, That Reason is always Mistress. For Men govern themselves according to Nature (the universal rule of all things) and, this nature being rational, they cannot be guided otherwise then the motions of Reason. But some find Reason where other finds none. The Thief accounts riches ill divided, and therefore he may justly possess himself of what he wants; and however he sees evil in the action, yet he conceives more in his necessity, which his Reason makes him account the greatest of all evils. So that comparing them together, he concludes the less evil to be good, and wittingly attempts the crime, not owning it for such whilst he commits it. The same may be said of all other sins, wherein the present sweetness exceeds the fear of future punishment. If Conscience interpose, they either extinguish it, or else wholly forbear the action: Unless the Mind happen to be balanced, and then they are in confusion, like the Ass which died of hunger between two measures of corn, not knowing which to go to. For 'tis impossible for the Will to be carried to one thing rather than another, unless it find the one better and more convenient.  
The Third said, 'Tis congruous to nature for the Inferior to receive Law from the Superior. So Man commands over beasts; and amongst Men, some are born Masters, and others slaves; the Male hath dominion over the Female, the Father over his Children, the Prince over his Subjects; the Body receives Law from the Soul, the Matter from its Form, the Angels of Inferior Hierarchies receive their intelligence from the Superior; and the lower Heavens the rule of their motions from the higher; the Elements are subject to the influences of those celestial bodies; and in all mixts one quality predominates over the rest. Since therefore the Sensitive Appetite is as much below Reason, as a beast below a Man, and the Imagination below the Intellect; according to the same order established in Nature, Reason ought always to have the command over it; because having more knowledge 'tis capable to direct it to its end. But through the perversity of our Nature, we more willingly follow the dictates of Sense than Reason, of the Flesh than the Spirit; because the former, being more familiar and ordinary, touch us nearer than Reason, whose wholesome counsels move not our Will so much, which being Mistress of all the faculties, according to its natural liberty, may sometimes command a virtuous action, of whose goodness Reason hath informed it; sometimes a vicious one by the suggestion of the Sensitive Appetite, which makes it taste the present sweetness and delight, whose attraction is greater than that of future rewards promised by virtue to her followers. Hence the Law of the members so prevails over the law of the mind, as sometimes wholly to eclipse the same, as in those who are blinded, and hardened in vice; sometimes it forces it to come over to its own side, and back it exorbitance with Reasons: In some others in whom Reason remains entire, and there is a clear knowledge of the turpitude of an action, yet the Will is so bound and charmed by the vehemence of the Passions of the Concupiscible and Irascible Appetite, that it follows their motions inspite of the remonstrances of Reason. Such was Medea, who by reason saw the heinousness of her intended murder of her Children; but rage and desire of revenge upon their Father Jason transported her. So it was said of the Athenians, that they knew indeed what was fit to be done, but did it not.  
The Fourth said, They who hold that Virtues are not habits distinct from Sciences would not be of this opinion, that we can know good and do evil; for Divinity teaches us, that there is no sin without ignorance; and that as 'twould not be in our power to sin if we had perfect knowledge of the turpitude of Vice, so 'tis impossible for a man to know the beauty of Virtue without loving her; considering too, that we have in us the seeds of Virtue to which we are naturally lead, inasmuch as it conducts us to the supreme good; seeds which would grow of themselves, were it not for the depravation of our judgement, which being imbued with the false maxims of the Imaginations which governs all our actions, and judges not of the goodness of things but by sense and common opinion, according to which glory follows vice, and contempt poor Virtue; this is the cause that these seeds of Virtue are stifled in the birth. Whereunto greatly conduces the example of other vicious persons, who are more numerous than the virtuous. And as Vice is more sensible, so it easily passes into habit, this habit into custom, which being another nature begets a kind of necessity to Vice, which becoming familiar, by degrees seems most agreeable in respect of the severe aspect of Virtue; men having in this condition Appetites as irregular as those of Childbearing women, who prefer char-coal, chalk, and ashes, before good Aliments.  
The Fifth said, That the contest between the Sensitive Appetite and Reason arises from the diversity of their objects, unto which either of them endeavours to draw the Will. Hence if it happen that Honesty, the object of Reason, be a sensible evil, as to fast, fight, or endure any thing contrary to the sensitive Appetite, whose object is delectable and sensual good, there arises a combat between these two Faculties, in which Reason is many times worsted for want of being well seconded. But when the object of Reason and the Appetite is the same, namely, a sensible good, there is no debate between them. For Reason proposing it to the Will, it spontaneously tends to it, being also lead thereunto by the Sensitive Appetite. Hence, in Indignation, Com-Passion, and Emulation, which are rational motions accompanied with anger, grief, and self-love, there is no fight between the Sensitive Appetite and Reason, since in these virtuous motions Reason gives the bridle to those Passions which are the Emissaries of the Appetite. As when the commands of a Master agree with the inclinations of the Servant, he sets upon performing them cheerfully. But being it very seldom happens that what is commanded by Reason agrees with the Passions of the Appetite, but is commonly difficult and laborious; 'tis not to be wondered if this intestine war be frequent, and the Appetite get the better of Reason. Moreover, what is in the Intellect, being transmitted from the Senses, equally revolted against this Faculty their Princess, it still retains something of the grossness of Sensuality; so that these notions of the Intellect, oftimes taking part with the Senses and Sensitive Appetite, Reason cares not to prevail over them; it being also proper to inferiors to have some contrariety to the commands of their Superiors, as is seen in the Celestial Spheres which have a motion opposite to that of the First Mover. Besides that the Empire of Reason over the Appetite is not despotical, or of a Master over a Servant; but political, such as that of a Magistrate over the Citizens, and consequently, half voluntary.   

II. Whether Speech be natural and peculiar to Man.  
Upon the Seond Point Plato's opinion was mentioned, that the Gods having by Epimetheus produced all other Animals with some particular gift, made man naked and weak, destitute of all natural aids, and subject to so many miseries that they pitied him, and thereupon ordered Prometheus to give him Reason, Speech, and Hands; the first, to know and contemplate the marvels of the world; the second, to express his thoughts outwardly; the last, to put his words and thoughts in execution. Reason not differing from Speech, saving that it is internal; whence 'tis also called the word of the mind; and the other external. This external Speech is so excellent, that though it consist but of wind, which is Air striking against the Epiglottis, modified and articulated by the tongue, lips, palate, and teeth; yet 'tis the interpreter of the reasonable soul, according to whose example 'tis equally received into all the ears of the Auditors. When this Speech is true, 'tis a sign of the mind's conception, and as natural and peculiar to man as Reason itself, one of whose goodliest privileges it is. Besides, man being born to live in society needed not only Reason to guide himself, but also Speech, to govern others, which likewise hath more power over Souls, inclining and turning them as it pleases.  
The Second said, Some Animals are perfectly mute, as worms and Snails; others render some sound, as Flies, Grasshoppers, though 'tis only that of their wings; and some have voice, as all perfect animals, amongst whom man hath the particular advantage of Speech. For sound is a Collision of Air between two solid bodies. Voice is a sound rendered by the mouth of an Animal to express its affections. But Speech is a voice which signifies by institution, and is called a verb if it signify time; otherwise a noun. As it signifies by institution 'tis distinguished from the voice which is a natural sign, and hath some correspondence with the thing signified. So the hoarse voice of one angry perfectly represents the inundation and tempest of the Spirits in this Passion. The lowness and mildness of a sad and afflicted man's voice represents the effect of sadness, which is to compress the Heart and Arteries; for these organs being coarct, the voice becomes more slender; as appears in Women, fat people, children, and eunuches. The Lover's interrupted speech betrays the inequality of his mind. But words are signs without any reference to the thing signified, depending only on the Will of those who first gave names to things. For if they were natural signs, they would be understood by all the world, and be every where the same. But though 'tis not natural, but acquired by precepts and use, specially by the hearing, whnce people deaf by nature are also dumb; yea, 'tis very peculiar to man. Wherefore Speech is improperly, figuratively, artificially, or else miraculously ascribed to other things; as when The Heavens are said to declare the glory of God, one deep to call on another, etc. When Balaams' Ass spoke, 'twas by Miracle. But when Simon Magus' dog spoke to Saint Peter, 'twas by operation of the Devil; as also what is reported of the two Pigeons, the Oak at Dodona, Achilles' Horse, the keel of Argo, and that Elm of the Gymnosophists mentioned by Philostratus to have saluted Apollonius at his arrival, as the River Causus bid Pythagoras good-morrow. But Speech properly belongs only to man; other creatures are incapable of it, both because they want Reason (which is the principle of it) and organs, which are a tongue, a palate, teeth, and lips, all rightly proportionated for the articulation of voice; for man's tongue alone is soft, large, movable and loose; to which qualities those of Pies and Parrots come nearest.  
The Third said, A natural thing is either born with us, as sense and motion; or comes afterwards of itself, as laughter, or whereof we are naturally capable and inclined to, as Arts and Sciences. In the first and second signification speech is not natural to man, who could not speak without learning, whence the two children caused by Psammetichus, King of Egypt, to be nursed in a Desert by two dumb Nurses pronounced no other word but Bec which they had heard of the Goats. But in the last signification 'tis peculiar to man, who is so inclined to it, that were children let alone from their Cradle they would in time make some language by signs, or words. 'Tis to be understood too, that 'tis articulate speech, such as may be written, that is peculiar to man, not inarticulate, which though a natural sign of the affections within, yet cannot properly be called speech, because found also in beasts, whose jargon Apollonius and some others are said to have understood; for hearing the chattering of a Swallow to her companions, he told those that were present that this bird advertised the others of a sack of Wheat fallen off an Asse's back near the City: which, upon trial, was found to be true.    

CONFERENCE LXXIX.  
I. What the Soul is. II. Of the apparition of Spirits.  

I. What the Soul is.  
THe difference of inanimate, living and dead bodies, manifestly evince the existence of a soul. But its essence is so unknown that Philosophers doubt in what degree of Category to put it. For 'tis of that kind of things which are not known by themselves, but only by their effects; as local motion and substance, which is not perceptible but by its accidents. So the outward shape of animated bodies acquaints us with their inward form. For the soul shapes all the external parts after the same manner; as Plants and Animals of the same species have commonly their leaves and members of the same external figure; whereas you scarce find two stones, or other inanimate bodies, of the same shape.  
The Second said, That the soul, according to Aristotle, is the first act of a natural body organised, having life in power, or potentially. Meaning by act perfection, which he expresses by the word Entellechie, which signifies to be in its end and form, which two are the same in natural things. 'Tis called Form upon account of its beauty; and divine, from heaven, its original; and 'tis the first of all other second acts, which are produced by it, such as all vital actions are. For as in the most imperfect of beings, Matter, there is a First or remote power, as in water to become fire; another second or next, as in the same water to become air by rarefaction: so in the nature of Forms, the noblest created Being's, there is a First act, the source of all vital actions, and a Second, comprehending the faculties and functions: Now this Soul is not a pure act (as God and Angels are) but an act of the Body, on whom it depends either in its being, and preservation, or else only in operation. Hence Sensitive and Vegetable Souls cease to be upon the change of the dispositions which produced and supported them. The reasonable Soul too in some manner depends upon the Body's disposition as to its operation, not as to its being and preservation, being immaterial and immortal. 'Tis called an act of a natural Body, to distinguish it from Machine's or Engines which move artificial and inanimate Bodies; organical, because Organs are requisite to its action. It must also have life in power, that is, be able to exercise the vital functions. For want of which a carcase, though organised, yet cannot be said to be animated, no more than Eggs and Seed, for want of Organs, although they have life in power.  
The Third said, He was of Pythagoras' opinion who called it a number, there being nothing in the world wherewith it hath more correspondence and proportion. 'Tis one in its essence; it makes the binary, which is the first number, by its conjunction with the body, and division of its Faculties into the Intellect and Will; the ternary, by its three species of soul, Vegetative, Sensitive, Rational; the quaternary, by the four qualities constituting the temper requisite to its introduction into the body; of which four numbers put together is formed the number ten, whence all others proceed; as from simple Apprehension, Enuntiation, Argumentation and Method, which are the four operations of the reasonable soul, whence all its notions proceed.  
The Fourth said, 'Tis not enough to say, with the Philosopher, that the soul is an act or perfection, or that by whose means we live; it must be shown what this act is; whether Substance or Accident. Pythagoras by calling the soul a number moving itself, reduces it under Quantity. According to Galen, who acknowledges no other Soul but the Temper, 'tis a Quality; as also according to Clearchus, who defines it harmony. Of those who believed the soul a substance, some have called it the purest part of some Element; as Heraclitus, of fire; Anaximenes, of air; and Thales, of water; none, of earth, in regard of its gross matter. Critelaus said 'twas a Quintessence; Democritus, a substance composed of round Atoms, and therefore easily movable. Now the soul is a substance (not an accident) because it composes a substance, making with the body a total by itself. Nor is it Quantity, because Quantity is not active; much less a selfmoving number, because number is an Entity of Reason, and nothing is moved of itself, but of some other. Nor is it any of the four qualities; which being indifferent of themselves must be determined by some form; much less a temper, which is found in all mixts, of which some are inanimate: nor a harmony, for this is composed of contrarieties, but the soul is simple, and consequently not susceptible of contraries. 'Tis therefore an incorporeal substance; otherwise, were the soul corporeal, there would be a penetration of dimensions in its union with the body; consequently, 'tis no Element, nor any Compound of them, as Empedocles and Plato phanci'd, upon this ground, that the soul being to judge of all things should therefore have all their principles and elements in itself. Which is absurd, for it knows divers things not composed of the Elements, as the Angels and Heavens. So that the soul must be concluded in the number of those things which 'tis easier to affirm what they are not then what they are.  
The Fifth said, That the soul is a fire, whose centre is Heaven, and God the source, who is called by the name of fire, in the Holy Text. Hence life, an effect of the soul, is nothing else but heat, and death cold. Moreover, as fire makes bodies lighter, so living bodies are less heavy than dead. And the Hebrews call man Isch, from the word Esch fire; as the Greeks do Phôs, which signifies light, which is a species of fire, lucid but not ardent; which light appears upon bodies whilst living, and dis-aspears as soon as they are dead. Now the different sorts of souls are produced of different lights. Those of Plants are formed of that of the air; whence they have no sensible heat, as the sensitive have, which are generated of the Sun, which also gives them local motion: rational souls are beams diffused from God who inhabits light inaccessible. And as waters ascend as high as their springs, so the souls of Plants exalt themselves into the air, whose mutations they follow; those of Beasts return into the Sun; and those of men are reflected towards God, having this common with light, that they perish not, but return to the place of their nativity. Agreeably whereunto, Solomon saith, That there is nothing new under the Sun; since even the forms of things are not new, but only appear in their turn one after another; as when light forsakes our Hemisphere it no more perishes then shadow, but they both make a continual circle, which follows that of the Sun.   

II. Of the Apparition of Spirits.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That the perfection of the Universe requires the existence of Intellectual Creatures, such as Angels and Rational Souls. A truth acknowledged by Aristotle, who assigns nine Spirits subservient to the First Mover, according to the number of heavens which they are to move; although Mercurius Trismegistus acknowledges but two which hold the Arctic and Antarctick Poles. Which Avicenna also denoted by his Chain of Intelligences. Amongst these Spirits some are destinated for the preservation of men, as Guardian Angels, called by the Apostle ministering Spirits, which were the Genii of the ancients, by which they made their greatest Oaths. Others have continual war with mankind, as the Devils. Others animate body's, as Rational Souls, which after the body's dissolution are happy or miserable, according as they have done good or evil. As for Angels and Demons, History both sacred and profane testifies their frequent apparition to men. Daily experience proves the same of the souls of the dead, though some question it. But besides that 'tis presumption to disbelieve all antiquity, which tells us of a Ghost which spoke to Brutus, one which showed a Sceleton in chains to Athenodorus the Philosopher; and that of Cleonice which tormented Pausanias (who had slain her) as long as he lived; as also the Ghost of Agrippina did her son Nero. The authority of Holy Scripture instructs us of the return of Samuel, Moses and Elias; and the same reason which makes the soul loath to part from its body argues it desirous to visit the same, or the places and persons wherewith it was most delighted. Nor is it more difficult to conceive how a separated soul can move itself, then how it moves the body which it animates, the one and the other being equally incomprehensible.  
The Second said, Spectres exist not saving in the Fancy, those who think they see them conceding that they are not palpable, nor beheld alike of all by standers, and men being prone to acquiesce in their own imaginations though misguided by the passions of fear, hope, love, desire; especially children and women who are more susceptible of all impressions, because their fancies are so weak as to be no less moved with its own fictions then real external representations by the Senses. But strong minds are not subject to such delusions.  
The Third said, He is too sensual who believes nought but what he sees; for according to this account nothing but accidents which alone fall under the cognizance of sense should be admitted. So the Saduces and all Libertines deny spirits, whilst they appeal only to Sense. Although it be an universal Doctrine of all sober antiquity that there are spirits, and that they appear oftentimes to men in cases of necessity, wherewith, according to Aristotle himself, the souls of the dead friends are affected; a manifest argument of the soul's immortality, which he believed only by the light of nature. As Apuleius reports, the Platonists make three sorts of Spirits, First, Demons or Genii, which are souls whilst they animate bodies; Second, Lar or Penates, the souls of such as had lived well, and after death were accounted tutelary gods of the houses which they had inhabited; Third, Lemures or Hobgoblins, the souls of the wicked, given to do mischief or folly after death, as they did during their life. Some others, especially the Poets, conceived man composed of three parts, Body, Soul, and Shadow, which latter appeared after dissolution of the two former, the body returning into its elements, and the soul going either to Heaven or Hell, as the shadow did into the Elysian fields, from whence it had no liberty to return, but only wandered up and down so long as the body wanted burial.  
The Fourth said, We must distinguish between Vision and Apparition. The former is, when we think we behold a thing which afterwards comes accordingly to pass as it appeared; the latter is, when some visible forms present themselves to us either waking or asleep; and 'tis of three sorts, intellectual, imaginary, and corporeal. The intellectual is, when separated substances insinuate themselves into the mind without borrowing any external shape. The imaginary is, when they imprint some strange forms or species in the fancy, and by this means make themselves known to us. The corporeal is, when they present themselves to our outward senses. To omit the first, which is rare, and an image of the Beatifical Vision, the imaginary apparition of souls is caused when Angels or Demons, according to the quality of the souls, portray in our fancy the species and signs of their countenance and personage which they had during life, which appears sad, covered with black, whilst they yet endure the punishments of their sins; but cheerful, and in white habit, when they are delivered from the same. And although this apparition is imaginary, yet 'tis real too. Thus Judas Maccabaeus knew Onias and Jeremy; Constantine saw S. Peter and S. Paul, and according to the opinion of many Samuel appeared to Saul, and foretold him of things which were to befall him; though others conceive 'twas a corporeal apparition; which also is much more certain, because souls either appear with their true bodies (although this is very rare too, yea and unbecoming happy souls to rejoin themselves to putrified carcases) or most commonly assume bodies of air. The cause of which apparitions is ascribed to the union which is between the soul of the dead person and that of the surviving to whom it appears, whether the same proceed from consanguinity, or identity of manners, great familiarity and friendship, which seems to make but one soul of those of two friends; so that the soul finding itself in pain either through present or future evils, especially when it sees itself obliged to the performance of some vow neglected during life, God for his own glory, the ease of his creature, and the conversion of sinners, permits it to manifest itself by ways most convenient.    

CONFERENCE LXXX.  
I. Of the Epilepsy or Falling Sickness. II. Whether there be any Art of Divination.  

I. Of the Epilepsy or Falling Sickness.  
THe vulgar Maxim is not always true, That a disease throughly known is half cured. For this disease, though known to the most ignorant, is of very difficult cure, and therefore was called by antiquity the Herculean disease, that is to say, unconquerable; the Sacred disease, because of its dreadful symptoms; and Lunatic, because those who are born either in the Full or New Moon, or during its Eclipse, are troubled with this malady, which hath great correspondence with the motions of the Planet; 'twas also called Morbus caducus, or Falling Sickness, by reason that it makes the person fall to the ground, and Comitialis, because it interrupted Assemblies; lastly, 'tis called Epilepsy because it intercepts the functions of the mind and senses. 'Tis defined, the cessation of the principal actions, and of sense and voluntary motion, with convulsion, which is not continual, but by internals. The true and proximate cause of it is either a vapour or an humour pricking the membranes of the brain, which endeavouring to discharge the same contracts itself, attracts the nerves to it, these the muscles and parts into which they are implanted; causing hereby those convulsive and violent agitations of the epileptics. Sneezing and the hickcock have some resemblance of it, the latter being caused by a sharp vapour sent from the stomach or other place by sympathy to its upper orifice which it goadeth with its acrimony, and thereby forces it to contract itself in order to expel the same; the former called by Avicenna the lesser Epilepsy, differing not from the greater, saving in duration, is also caused by some vapours pricking the former part of the brain, which contracts itself to expel the same by the nostrils.  
The Second said, That the unexpectedness of this malady, and the Patient's quick recovery, may justify the vulgar for thinking that there is something divine in it. Since nothing amazes us more than sudden uncomprehended alterations. Therefore in Hypocrates days they used to make expiations and incantations for this disease, which he derides, saying that the bad Physicians promoted this false conceit, that they might get the more honour for the cure, or be more excusable for not effecting the same.  
The Third said, That the Epilepsy and Apoplexy differ only in degree, both having the same cause, namely, abundance of gross humours, either phlegmatic or melancholy; which if it wholly fills the brains ventricles, and makes a total obstruction; so that the Animal Spirits, the instruments of voluntary motion and sense be obstructed, it causes an apoplexy, which is a total abolition of sense and motion in the whole body, with laesion of the rational faculty. The Heart continues its pulse for some time, till the consumption of what Animal Spirits were in the Nerves, serving to the Muscles for respiration. But if the obstruction be not perfect, and the crass humour overloads the ventricles, than they contract themselves and all the Nerves which depend upon them; whence comes that universal contraction of the limbs, as one covered in bed with too many clothes pulls up his legs, bends and lifts up his knees, to have more air and room under the load which presses him.  
The Fourth said, That as the brain is the moistest of all the parts, so it abounds most in excrements, the thinnest of which transpire by the sutures & pores, but the grosser meeting in great quantity in the brain melt its substance into water, which coming to stop the Veins and Arteries hinder the commerce of the spirits; whether this pituitous matter be derived from the paternal or maternal geniture, or whether the part of seed which makes the brain happen not to be well purged in the womb where the rudiments of this malady are first laid; or whether the brain purge not itself afterwards sufficiently by its emunctories, and the scabs usual to Children. Hypocrates saith, this malady cannot begin after twenty years of age, when the constitution of body is become more hot and dry; and many Children are cured of it only by the desiccation caused by the alteration of age, seasons, and manner of diet.  
The Fifth said, That a gross humour cannot be the cause of those quick and violent motions of the Epilepsy, nor be collected and dissipated in so short a time as the duration of a Paroxysm. Therefore the cause of it must be some biting and very subtle matter; for no such gross obstructive matter is found in the brain of those that die of this malady, but only some traces or signs of some malignant vapour or acrimonious humour, as black spots, a swarthy frothy liquor, an Impostume in the brain, some portion of the Meninx putrified, corrosion of the bone, and such other things evidencing rather the pricking of the brain then stopping of its passages.  
The Sixth said, That were the Epilepsy produced by obstruction, it would follow that as a total one in an Apoplexy abolishes all sense and motion, so the incomplete one of the Epilepsy should only diminish, not deprave motion as it doth. So that the Epilepsy should be a symptom like the Palsy or Lethargy, from which nevertheless 'tis wholly different. Nor can it be simply the mordacity or malignity of an humour, since malignant and pestilential Fevers, hot and dry Aliments, as spices, mustard, salt, garlic, onions, and the lke biting things, cause not this Evil. The truth is, there is a specifical occult quality of the humours particularly disposing to this disease; the Chemists call it a Mercurial Vapour, (that is, an acid penetrating, and subtle spirit) a Vitriolike Spirit, a biting and corrosive salt; which makes not men only, but Quails, Dogs, Sheep, and Goats, subject to it. And as some things beget this malady by an occult Epileptical quality, as Smallage, Parsley, a goat's liver roasted, and stinking smells, as horn, pitch and jet burnt, (whence the Ancients being about to buy a slave, made him snuff up smoke of brimstone, to try whether he were not subject to this disease) so many Antepileptical remedies cure it; but that which proceeds by sympathy from the stomach, or other parts, more easily than that which is idiopathical, and radicated in the brain. As the shave of man's skull not buried, drunk with water of Teile-tre and Paeony, so contrary to this evil, that it cures the same by being hung about the neck.   

II. Whether there be any Art of Divination.  
Upon the Second Point 'twas said, That Man, who alone understands the nature and difference of Time, is more solicitous about the future then about the present, which is but a moment; or the past, which concerns him only historically. Hence arises his ardent desire of presaging to satisfy which, he makes use of every thing in the world. Which is an infallible argument of the vanity of this Art of Divination; because effects cannot be foretell by all sorts of causes, but only by those wherewith they have connexion, and wherein they are potentially contained, as leaves and fruits are in the seeds; and 'tis received a Maxim, that when an effect may be produced by sundry causes, none of them is the true cause; since we cannot from such an effect proceed to the knowledge of its cause. Now Divination is not taken here, as Hypocrates speaks of it in his Prognostics, when he saith, that nothing is makes Physicians more resemble Gods, than the foretelling of what will befall, and hath already befallen their Patients. For there he speaks of the predictions of Physic; but here to divine, is to affirm an event whereof we see not any cause or probable sign. For if by seeing a Rainbow I prognosticate rain, or that a tree will bear fruit when it is well blossomed, or that a sick person that rests ill the night before the seventh day will have a Crisis, this is not Divination. But if, not knowing a prisoner nor his affairs, I foretell that he will be set at liberty or not; that an unknown person will be married, and how many Children he will have, or such other things which have no necessary, nor yet contingent causes known to me; this is properly to Divine. Whereby it appears, that there is no Art of Divination: Art being a body of precepts tending to some profitable end; whereas were Divination certain, it would cause nothing but either despair or negligence; and precepts being of things happening necessarily or most commonly; that whose cause we know not cannot be known by precepts. And therefore all your Soothsayers, Augurs, Sorcerers, Fortune-tellers, and the like, are but so many Impostors.  
The Second said, That Divination, which is a prediction of future things remote from our knowledge, is of three sorts. Either from God, as Prophecy; from Devils, as Conjuring; or from causes purely natural, which is Prognostication or Conjecture. Prophecy is a divine inspiration, whereby one foresee and declares remote things infallibly. 'Twas exercised at first by the Priests of the Law, with the Vrim and Thummim, which were twelve precious stones in the high Priests Ephod; and afterwards by the Prophets instructed in dreams or visions, whence they were called seers. Diabolical Divination depends upon some compact, either tacit or express, with the Devil; who being able to declare such things as have appeared by some outward act, as the authors of robberies, things lost, or such futurities as depend on natural and necessary causes, but not such as proceed from causes purely free or contingent; the Soothsayers his servants can know no more concerning the same than their Master. This Divination is of two sorts. The first is called Daemonomancy, when the Devils themselves give answers out of Caves or Images; sometimes by beasts, men, or most frequently by women, rendering oracles by their mouths, stomaches, or bellies, but for the most part ambiguous and doubtful, for fear of being mistaken. The other is called Mangania, or Goetia, the most detestable species of which is Necromancy, which draws answers from the mouths of the dead. Others, more remarkable, are, 1. Hydromancy, or Divination by water, into which they pour drops of oil, or cast three little stones, observing the sections of the circles which they describe. 2. Lecanomancy, by a basin of water, at the bottom of which the answers are heard, after casting thereinto some plates of Gold and Silver, and precious stones, engraven with certain characters. 3. Gastromancy, by glass bottles full of water, in which a big-bellyed woman, or an innocent child, beholds images. 4. Catoptromancy, by Looking-glasses. 5. Crystallomancy, by crystal cylinders. 6. Dactylomancy, by enchanted Rings, like that of Gyges. 7. Onychomancy, by anointing the nail of a child with oil or tallow, and holding it towards the Sun they see in it what they demand. 8. Aeromancy, by conjurations of the Air. 9 Coscinomancy, by a sieve, and scissors. All which species of Divination presume either an express or tacit compact with the Devil. But there were three without compact, 1. Aruspices, who drew conjectures from the entrails and motions of beasts sacrificed, from the figures made by melted wax cast into water, called Ceromantie, or Daphnomancy, from the crackling of burning Laurel, Omphalomancy, when by the knots and adhering to the navel and secundines, the Midwives foretell how many Children the new delivered woman shall have afterwards. Amniomancy, foretelling the Child's fortune from the red or livid colour of the coat Amnios'. Parthenomancy, to discover Virginity by measuring the neck, or drinking powdered Agat, which she that is no Virgin vomits up again. 2. Augurs, or Auspexes who divined from birds, beasts, prodigies, and accidents, as Pliny reports of the Servilii, that they had a piece of brass money which they fed with Gold and Silver, and it increased when any good was to befall their Family, and diminished upon some approaching evil. 3. Unlawful Lots are Cleromancy, which comprehends Homer and Virgil's Lots. Alectriomancy, by a Cock eating corns of wheat laid upon the Letters of the Alphabet. Oniomancy, by names; Arithmancy, by numbers. Lastly, Natural Divination, which is Conjecture, either taken from the Stars, as Judiciary Astrology; the Air, and its several dispositions; the Sea, and Trees, as when a Plague is foretell by the flourishing of Roses or Violets in Autumn. Animals also supply some presages, as Mice running away from an house presignify its downfall or burning; and Sparrows delinquishing a Country denote the Pestilence and infection of the Air.  
The Third said, That the Soul, being immortal, is also capable of knowing things after the manner of eternity, which being a total and simultaneous possession of endless life, knows all things at once, things future and past as present; which knowledge is like that of a man who beholds a whole Army at the same time from the top of a Mountain; and that of time, in which things are seen successively, is like that of him who through a hole sees every Soldier of his Army pass by one after another. Wherefore 'tis no wonder if men who affect nothing so much as eternity, and to be like God, desire to know things as God doth, to whom the future is present. Moreover, this inclination being natural to all persons, they must have a power to exercise it in this life, lest it be in vain. Which is done principally when the Soul is loosened from the Body, as in sleep, ecstasy, deep contemplation, and the agonies of death, in which dying persons commonly foretell things to come.    

CONFERENCE LXXXI.  
I. Of Chiromancy. II. Which is the noblest part of the Body.  

I. Of Chiromancy.  
CHiromancy is Divination by inspection of the hand, and consideration of its substance, quantity, quality, and other accidents, whereby the same affords indications of things past or to come. It was practised by Sylla and Caesar, this latter having by it discovered the false Alexander, who pretended himself Herod's Son, from the true, And an old Chiromancer of Albert of Mirandola, Cousin to the great Picus, foretell the Duke of Nevers, Nephew to Lewis XII. being at Carpi in Italy, ready to fight with the Viceroy of Naples, that he should win the battle, but lose his own life, as it came to pass. So Paulus Jovius relates, that Antiochus Tibertus of Cesena, by this means, advertised Guido Balneo of the death which befell him by one of his familiars; and that Horatius Cocles foretell Lucas Gauricus that he should be put to death by John Bontivoglio Prince of Bononia. Many having seen Criminals lead to the gallows have observed that the two extremes of the line upon the last joint of the thumb terminated at the root of the nail, which is taken for the sign of the halter; as when this line reaches not the nail, but on one side, it presages only danger of hanging. Now as diversity of outward shapes distinguishes species, so it doth also individuals, especially that of the hand, the instrument of every one's fortune, and the most temperate part of the Body; whence the hollow of it is accounted the organ of Touching.  
The Second said, That the hand, the subject of Chiromancy, is composed, as all other organical parts, of three dissimular parts, the wrist, palm, and fingers. In the palm the Chiromancers consider the lines and eminences or hills. The lines are those parts which variously divide the hand, the five chief of which are, the line of the wrist, the line of life, the natural mean, the liverline, and the table-line. The wrist-line is that which divides the hand from the arm, and is commonly double, sometimes treble and quadruple. The line of life, or of the heart, begins at the bottom of the tumour under the forefinger, and ends at the wrist-line, having sometimes another line paralle, called the sister of the line of life. The natural mean, or line of the head, begins near the line of life under the forefinger, and passes overthwart the hand to the hill of the Moon, or pommel of the hand, which line is thwarted by another, called the liver or stomack-line; and these two lines, with the line of life, form a triangle, whose base is the liver line, called the triangle of Mars; which appears not in their hands whose middle line terminates at the table line, or line of fortune, which begins under the hill of Mercury, at the bottom of the little finger, and ends under the forefinger with one, two, or three branches. 'Tis called the table line, because the space between it and the middle line represents the table; whence 'tis called the table of the hand, and line of fortune, because it affords the certainest tokens of good or bad fortune. The hills or risings of the hand are seven, according to the Planets to which they are attributed, namely, the mount of Venus, under the thumb, indicating Love; the mount of Jupiter, under the forefinger for Honours; that of Saturn, under the third, or middle finger, for felicities or misfortunes; that of the Sun, under the fourth, or ringfinger, for Riches; that of Mercury, under the little finger, for Arts and Sciences; that of the Moon, which is in the pommel of the hand, for afflictions and maladies of the mind; lastly, the mount of Mars in the foresaid triangle, comprised under the lines of life, the middle line, and the liver line, denotes warlike exploits. And because the four principal fingers have twelve joints which make as many sinuosities; therefore the Chiromancers attribute to each of them a sign of the Zodiac, and to each finger a season of the year; as to the forefinger the Spring, and to its three joints the three signs of that season, assigning the uppermost joint to Aries, etc. By which signs 'tis known in what months the effects foretell by the lines of the hand will happen.  
The Third said, That Chiromancy is a Conjectural Art, not founded upon indubitable principles of eternal truth, but upon many experiences, from which the general precepts of this Art are deduced. The chief whereof are, that the rectitude, continuity, and lively colour of the lines, and the eminence of the mounts are good signs, as also the branching of these lines upwards towards the mounts of the fingers; on the contrary, their obliquity, intersection, livid or blackish colour, and branching downwards, are of ill augury. The wideness of the table, and the angles of the triangle of Mars well shaped, denote good. Many lines cutting the chief which are in the palm of the hand, show a man entangled in affairs. The lines of the wrist signify that the person is to live so many times twenty years. A double line of life is a sign of one very fortunate. The lines which cross it are so many misfortunes, and their breaking shows death or dangerous sickness. One o in it denotes the loss of an Eye, and two oo total blindness, which Johannes de Indagine saith he found true in many, and by his own experience. Crooked lines upon the table line threaten water. 'Tis an ill sign, when one of the chief lines, especially the table line, is wanting; and when it hath inci●ions, 'tis a mark of various fortune. Lines between the table line and middle line are so many diseases, but not mortal. And infinite such other rules. The nails also are considered by the Chiromancers, as to their colour, shape, largeness, and little spots, among which the round and white denote friends, the others ill-willers.  
The Fourth said, That 'tis requisite to prediction by the hands that nothing be on them but what is natural. And if the lines of one hand suffice not, recourse must be had to the other; and if both agree, the effects signified by them are less doubtful. When they differ, these of the left hand are chiefly taken notice of, both because 'tis nearest the heart, and because 'tis less disfigured by working. Yet 'tis to be remembered, that as one sign evidences not the constitution, and few diseases have one certain pathognomonical sign, so neither is an effect to be inferred from one line so and so, but from many together; although they are commonly fallacious too, unless the inclinations likewise be known by Physiognomy and Astrology.  
The Fifth said, All effects are either natural or free; those come from a necessary and infallible, which hath no affinity with the lines of the hand erroneously alleged to signify the same; and these being from the Will cannot be caused by a concurrence of lines, differing either fortuitously, or according to the various situations of the bones, or several foldings of the child's hands in his mother's belly, or by different exercises, and variety of Climates; they of hot Countries having scorched skins, and more lines otherwise configurated then Northern people; and Artisans, than Courtiers and idle people. And so there would need different rules of Palmistry, according to Countries and qualities, which is absurd. The truth is, if any thing may be conjectured, 'tis from the parts, which contribute something to what they are signs of. So a large forehead may be the note of good capacity, because it shows that the Ventricles of the Brain are large; and a bony and sinewy man is with reason judged strong. But the hand can afford no indication, if you except its largeness or thickness, by proportion of which, with the other parts that are not seen, one may judge of its strength. 'Tis therefore a fallacious Art which takes that for a cause and a sign which is nothing less.  
The sixth said, Chiromancy is of two sorts, Physical or Astrological. The former is grounded upon the same principles with Physiognomy, and is a part of it, discovering by the several accidents of the hand it's own temper with that of the whole body, and consequently, the manners and inclinations. Hence the Chiromancers affirm, with great probability, that those that have thick hands have the other parts which are unseen alike, and consequently, a dull wit; and so on the contrary. But that which is purely Astrological, and is founded upon imaginary principles, seems not only faulty▪ but very ridiculous, yea, and pernicious too; and therefore is prohibited by Laws both Humane and Divine.   

II. Which is the noblest part of the Body.  
Upon the Second Point 'twas said, That man's body being a structure composed of many parts, not only similary, as in plants and stones, but organical, destinated to each action, which being their end, will also be the measure and standard of their nobleness; as Officers and Ministers of State or Family are esteemed according to their employment. Now an Animals noblest action is Life; and therefore the Heart, the author thereof, and source of heat and spirits, is the noblest of all parts. Moreover, Aristotle says, it lives first and dies last, and is in the little world what the Sun is in the great, imparting light and motion to all the parts of the body, as the Heavens do to all sublunary things. Therefore many Animals want other parts, but none a heart, which is so absolutely necessary that its least wound is mortal.  
The Second said, Whether Nobility betaken from Antiquity or necessity, the Liver is the noblest of all. For the Animal at first lives the life of a Plant, and so needed nourishment first, the supplying of which, being the Livers office, it is therefore formed before any of the entrails. Nor could we exercise our senses or reasonable actions, if we were not nourished; the functions of all faculties ceasing as soon as the Livers provision is spent. Yea, no animal action can be performed without spirits, the matter of which is blood elaborated in the Liver. Which as 'tis the cause of the four humours, and consequently, of Health or Sickness; so 'tis the seat of Love, the noblest of all the passions.  
The Third said, As much nobler as the species is then the Individual comprehended under it, so much are the parts serving to its conservation nobler than others which conserve only the particular. Therefore Galen reckons them among the principal parts. They serve to enliven the body, whose temper, colour, beauty, voice, and other qualities, their deprivation not only destroys, but also changes the manners of the Mind, and extinguishes Courage, as appears in cocks when castrated. Add hereunto, that they are hardest to be tamed, and therefore most noble.  
The Fourth said, That Generation being common to men, not only with beasts, but also with plants, being an action of the natural faculty, it cannot be the noblest action of man; but rather the Understanding, which being exercised in the brain, the seat of the Rational Soul, this without dispute is the noblest of all; whence 'tis called Heaven by Homer, a divine member by Plato, and generally accounted the mansion of wisdom, and temple of divinity, which appears chiefly in the structure of its rete mirabile, labyrinth, and ventricles. Moreover, all the parts were made for the brain. For man was born to understand, and the intellectual faculty holds its seat in the brain. To understand well, it needed phantasms and species, which were to be received by the senses placed for that purpose in the head: and to judge of the diversity of sensible objects, it ought to have local motion; and, in order thereunto, muscles, tendons, nerves, and bones. These actions of the Understanding are performed by help of the Animal Spirits, the matter whereof are the vital of the Heart, as the matter of these are the natural; whence learned men are commonly lean and unhealthy, because their natural spirits go to the brain, instead of being carried to the parts, in order to nutrition.  
The Fifth said, That (to omit Aesop's opinion, who preferred the tongue before any other part, and found it most powerful to do either good or evil) the hand seemed to him as much more excellent than the brain, as the active is to be estimated above the contemplative. Therefore Aristotle calls it the Organ of Organs, and 'tis the symbol of faith, strength, and civility; whence remain still the terms of kissing the hands.    

CONFERENCE LXXXII.  
I. Which is most powerful, Art or Nature. II. Whether Wine is most to be tempered in Winter, or in Summer.  

I. Which is most powerful, Art or Nature.  
THe power of Nature and Art cannot be better judged then by their opposition; yet how should any be between them, whilst Art can do nothing without Nature? For if the hand be off of Industry, 'twas Nature that made it a hand. If the Sword be valued for the Art which fashioned it, and brought it into a condition to give Law to him that hath none; 'tis to the Iron produced by Nature in the Mines that it owes its matter. And thus making the same induction through all disciplines, 'twill be found that they cannot be imagined without Nature; not Logic, without natural reason; nor Grammar, without speech; nor Speech, without a tongue; nor writing, without ink and paper; nor these without the matter whereof they are made, no more than a building without stones, mortar, or other materials. Therefore when Art offers to compare with Nature, 'tis as if a child upon a giant's neck should therefore think itself taller than he; whereas it hath no advantage but what it borrows from the Giant which upholds it.  
The Second said, That actions being the rule whereby to measure the excellence of the Agents, and being themselves determined by their end, which alone sets value upon them; Nature is therefore more excellent than Art in that it hath a nobler end in its actions, and ordinarily attains the same which Art can never do. For Nature, as the internal principle of motion and rest of that wherein it is, produces all substantial forms, and is the cause of all generations and natural motions; in the continual revolution of which is seen an unparallelled order, illustriously testifying the wisdom of Nature who governs them, and who never fails to produce a plant or an animal when the matter is rightly disposed. Whereas Art is only an external cause, giving nothing but shape and outward show to its works, which indeed in some manner imitate those of Nature, which is the end of Art, but are never so perfect, no Painter having ever made a bunch of grapes, or a man, so well as Nature, because he represents only the surface and some few other external accidents, but is far from being able to express the essence and substantial forms of these natural bodies which it attempts to imitate. Moreover, Nature frames all parts of her works together (as in the formation of man) though grossly and in a small volume, and afterwards makes the same augment and move together; but Art makes the parts of its work successively, the foundation before the walls, these before the roof, the rough hewing before the last hand; and motion excited by artifice is violent, yea more in some parts of the Engine then in others.  
The Third said, That to doubt whether Art be more powerful than Nature, is to doubt whether two be more than one, or three then two. For Art presupposes Nature perfected. And as that is the strongest animal which can bring others under its laws, so being Art always subdues Nature, it must be the more potent. Our nature is inclined to evil, but the precepts of Divinity, yea, and of moral Philosophy too, have no other aim but to correct its defects, and overcome its perverseness, both which are so happily effected, that not only S. Paul professes, I live, yet not I, but Christ in me; but also the most excellent Physiognomist was mistaken in his judgement of Socrates from his aspect. Nature leads man to follow his brutish and sensual appetite, and to make use of every thing which complies therewith; but Art coming to rectify it civilizes him, and teaches him to restrain his concupiscences, to fast rather, for conscience or health, then incur eternal damnation in the other life, and diseases in this. And experience shows how far Art gets the mastery of Nature, when a little man dextrous at his weapons easily overcomes a stronger who hath only the help of nature. The horse, dog, birds of prey, and other animals capable of discipline, do every thing which man teaches them much better than they would do of themselves. Compare but the discourse of an ignorant with that of a learned person, the carriage of a Clown with that of a Courtier, the heaviness of a strong Lubber with the dexterity of a practised Champion. In the Mechanics, a Child with an artificial Screw will lift up a greater burden than two Oxen can carry, and these two Oxen will draw a load by the common artifice of Carts, which ten other Oxen cannot bear upon their backs. An Army of 20000 naked Savages hath been often defeated by 200 men armed with Swords and Arquebushes. In brief, compare the weakness of all things at their beginning, and before time has brought them to perfection by a series of new precepts, whereof Arts are composed; and you will see that Art as much surpasses Nature as Bread doth Acorns, or Wheat itself, before Art hath fitted it to our use.  
The Fourth said, That duration is the measure of every thing's excellence; whence the Proverb teaches us to consider the end. Bubbles of water and soap blown into the air look very handsome; wait but a little and they are nothing. So are all artificial things compared to natural. As this gave them beginning, so it sees them end, overcomes and survives them; that a thing perishes it hath from art; that it lasts more or less, it hath from nature; as writing engraven in Marble is of longer continuance then that which is traced upon sand, and yet 'tis one and the same writing. But sooner or later, every thing returns to its first principles; and what was borrowed of nature must be paid back to her again. We raisepalaces up to the clouds; Nature endures it with some violence, their gravity resisting the most it can, till at length she seems to yield, and to be tamed by art. But inquire news of them in future ages, and they will tell you that Nature never rests till she hath returned that to the ground which was taken out of it, and this without Tools or Instruments. Art squares trees which were round, whence a Spartan Lady asked, whether trees grew square: leave them to the air, they become round, their corners rotting first of all. Physicians observe, that simple medicaments, as the most natural, are the most effectual, and such as have least artifice are most active. Whence the most expert laugh at that hotchpotch of herbs, and other ingredients, wherewith quacksalvers fill their receipts, acknowledging that the more you have in compounding a medicine, the less intentions you obtain the same, one quality resisting and abating the edge of another. And, in removing of diseases, they hold for a Maxim, that 'tis Nature alone which does the cure. Moreover, the birth of a child is a pure work of Nature, and she that leaves her to do the business is the most expert to bring Women to bed. In brief, all good Crises must be natural, every thing that is artificial is directly contrary thereunto. What adoptive Son hath so tender an affection to his parents as a natural one? or what nurse suckles another's with so good a heart as her own child? which was the reason of the Gardener to the Philosopher, who asked him, why bad herbs grew better of themselves, than others transplanted, and cultivated by Art. When we would signify an honest man, we say he is of a good nature; when a knave, that he is full of artifice. Men may disguise their manners and inclinations, but cannot dissemble Nature; a sanguine, choleric, or melancholy person, always discover their nature through all the artifices and hypocrisies of art. Preach to an intemperate, ambitious, or otherwise tainted with some vice as natural to him as to the lame to halt, he will possibly restrain himself for some time, but presently return to his first habit.  
The Fifth said, Nature being taken for every thing compounded of matter and form, and Art for Humane Wit, which applies them to its own use, this must be so much more excellent than that, as it gives perfection to the same, by introduction of an artificial form besides its natural. Marble, of no price in the mine, yet turned into the statue of an old woman becomes highly valuable. The Dragon in the Tapestry is as agreeable to behold as the natural one would be terrible. And even of things profitable, a dish of fruits well drawn is more esteemed than a hundred natural. And who prizes not a Table, Cabinet, or other moveables, more than so much wood, a glass then the ashes it is made of. 'Twere to accuse all Antiquity of error, and unprofitably inventing and increasing Arts, to prefer the rudeness and simplicity of Nature before them; which teaching us from the birth to defend ourselves by arts against all defects of the body, therefore tacitly yields them the pre-eminence.  
The sixth said, That the meaness and imperfection of the matter sets off the excellence of the workman, when his work borrows all its nobleness from its form which he gives it, and not from its matter. Hence God, the most perfect of all Agents, needed no matter wherewith to make all his works; Nothing being a sufficient material object of his Omnipotence. Nature, a subordinate and less perfect Agent then God, makes all her works of the First Matter, which is not a pure nothing; nor yet a perfect Entity, but on Entity in power, and as Aristotle saith, almost nothing. But Art can make nothing but by the help of natural and perfect bodies, composed of matter and form, which it only divides or conjoins; as when the Architect builds a House he joins many stones, pieces of wood, and other perfect bodies together; and the Statuary pares off the gross pieces of Marble till he brings forth the resemblance of what he would represent. Wherefore as much as God is above Nature, so much is Nature above Art.   

II. Whether Wine is most to be tempered in Winter or in Summer.  
Upon the Second Point 'twas said, They who impute most diseases to the use of Wine, because the Eastern people who use it not are, free or less troubled with maladies, will conclude (as he did who married a very little Woman, as the least Evil) that Wine most qualifid is best, in case it cannot be wholly let alone. But the Question will still remain, in which season, Winter or Summer, it is most to be mixed. Now there being less heat, and more humidity in the body during Winter, by reason of the outward cold, and closing of the pores, it seems that Wine should be taken unmixed in this season. For being heat consists in a proportion of the qualities, that which exceeds must be corrected by its contrary, and the weak strengthened; as they that would walk upright on a rope, must turn their counterpoise to the side opposite to that whereunto they incline.  
The Second said, That in Summer the Wine should be more tempered, because then the natural heat is least, as Caves are cold in Summer and hot in Winter. Whence Hypocrates said, that the bowels are hotter in Winter and Spring, whence people have then better stomaches; the capacities being enlarged by the dilatation of heat, and sleep likewise longer, through the abundance of vapours rising from the blood, which is made in greater quantity when the natural is strong then when it is weak. Moreover, bodies are more healthy in cold weather then in hot, which causing great dissipation of heat and spirits, the loss cannot be better repaired then by unmixed Wine, whose actual coldness being overcome by our Nature, its potential heat is reduced into act, and fortifies ours, adding also its volatile spirits to our spirits, as old regiments are recruited by new levies.  
The Third said, That the best food being assimilated and least excrementitious, as Wine is in all seasons, it ought not to be mixed either in Summer or Winter, aqueous Wine making many serous excrements which cause obstructions; whereas pure Wine is good in Winter to assist the natural heat, assaulted by the outward cold, and to digest the crudities commonly generated during this season; and in Summer to support the languishing spirits by supplying new matter. But if the necessity of a hot distemper require mixture of water, I would have it poured into the wine two hours before it be drunk, that so fermentation may in some measure turn the water into the nature of the wine, and the encounter of these two enemies may be rather in a strange Country then in ours.  
The Fourth said, 'Twas not without mystery that the Poets feigned Bacchus new come forth out of Jupiter's thigh with an inflamed countenance, to have been delivered to the Nymphs to wash him, and that the seven Pleyades, whose rising denounces rain, had the principal charge of him; and that the Mythologists represent this God of Wine followed by a company of mischievous demons called Cabals, the chief of which they name Acrat, which signifies pure wine; hereby intimating the disorders it causes when its fumes are not abated with water. Moreover, when Amplychion, King of Athens, had first put water into his wine, and every one by his example, a Temple was built in the City to Bacchus erect or standing; intimating that as mere wine causes reeling, so tempered makes one walk upright. The truth is, unmixed wine is always dangerous, filling the brain with hot and pungent vapours, which water allays and gives a temper to, suitable to our natural heat, which is mild and gentle; whereas these spirits are of themselves igneous, as the burning of Aquavitae testifies. But 'tis less hurtful to drink pure wine in Winter then in Summer, when the natural heat being igneous and increased by the outward would turn into a distemper by the adventitious heat of wine, which, on the contrary, in Winter counter-checks the outward coldness of the air.  
The Fifth said, If we believe the Poet Orpheus, who advises to drink unmixed wine twenty days before the rising of the Dog-star, and as many after, than wine must not be tempered in Summer; a custom practised still in Italy, where in the heats of Summers they drink the strongest and most delicious wines without water. Moreover, people eating less in this hot season should therefore drink the more pure wine, as more nourishing. Besides that the aqueous crudities of fruits eaten in Summer is corrected by the heat of wine.  
The Sixth said, That regard is herein to be had to every one's constitution; phlegmatic, old men, and such as have cold stomaches, may drink wine without water, as also those that have Fames Canina: but the choleric and young must temper it if they do not wholly abstain, yet always having regard to custom, and the nature of wines; amongst which, if we believe the Germans, their wine cannot endure water, no more than the water of the Island of Tenos can endure wine.    

CONFERENCE LXXXIII.  
I. Of Baths. II. Whether the Wife hath more love for her Husband, or the Husband for his Wife.  

I. Of Baths.  
'TIs not in vain that Physicians examine the nature of the places wherein man's body is contained. For the ambient air, water, or earth (as in Dropsies) hath great influence upon the same. Now Baths are either total, for the whole body, or partial, for some members, such as the Half-bath, where the head, breast, and arms, are remaining out of the water; fomentations, pumping, and the like. This Bath was in such request among the Romans, that their Emperors were at great care and charge in building them, not only at Rome, but even in this City of Paris, where the Emperor Julian made one. Its benefits are great when used in due time and place, and its effects different according to its divers composition. For it always moistens, more or less; but it heats, cools or tempers, according as 'tis hot, cold, or temperate. It opens the pores, by removing the scurf which stopped them, and dilating them by its heat, whereby it insinuates into the inward parts, especially the muscles, which by this means it swells up, and by colliquating the humour corrects their dryness, and repairs the emptiness introduced thereinto by lassitude. Whence used moderately it takes away weariness, and repairs strength; but continued too long, and being hot, it draws forth the strength of the party too much, and causes faintings; a cold Bath cools the parts it touches, but by accident and consequence heats them, by obstructing the pores and passages of the spirits. Hence they that come out of this Bath are very hungry; and Hypocrates saith, that the Convulsion is cured by casting cold water upon the shoulders, which moves nature to expel its enemy. So in fainting nothing recovers the spirits and revives the heart more than cold water cast on the face where the skin is thinnest, and the spirits abound most.  
The Second said, That those at Rome anciently passed through three places. In the first, where the air was well warmed, like the Stoves of Germany, they put off their clothes. In the second, a little more heated by fire underneath or on the sides, they sweat; the water which steamed from the heated vessels sticking to their naked bodies, and being thence gently wiped off, all the filth was brought▪ off with Currycombs of Ivory. Here also they were anointed with Oil, either before the Bath of warm water (when they would not relax the pores, nor evaporate the spirits, as in those that newly recover a sickness, or are exhausted by labour) or after the Bath, to hinder the sweat which follows. For the oil stops the pores of the skin, and so hinders transpiration. In the third place was the water lukewarm, or something more, where they bathed themselves, afterwards plunged into cold water or a little less hot, which was on the side of the same place, to fortify the relaxed members. Lastly, they returned to the second place, there to sweat and be rubbed, repassing by the first, to avoid the sudden mutation from hot air to cold; the danger of which Alexander found when being too hot he went into a river, falling into shiverings and convulsions, wherewith he had perished had it not been for his Physician Philip. Whereby it appears that a Bath profits or hurts, according as it is well or ill administered, and that our wise Ancestors were more circumspect in it then we; which possibly is the cause why it was in so frequent use, that Galen speaks of divers of his time who commonly bathed themselves twice a day; the good which we receive from any thing being the inducement to the frequent practice of it.  
The Third said, That unless upon urgent necessity and a medicinal account, bathing is not only superfluous but very hurtful to men. For besides that 'tis unnatural (not water but air being man's element) it opens the body, and makes it susceptible of any bad qualities of the air; for which reason 'tis forbidden in time of pestilence. For as Oak lasts longer than Figtree, because 'tis more solid, so soft bodies are more unhealthy and short-lived then firm, as those of peasants are, who arrive to ages, without experience of any of those delicacies. For so many conditions are requisite to a Bath, that 'tis commonly more hurtful than profitable. It must be varied according to the diversity of seasons, and complexions, which Galen confesses he understood not. And one and the same day will be of different temper, as it happens in Autumn; so that one and the same Bath will be proper and not proper. Besides, 'tis prescribed to be as hot as milk from the Cow, which it cannot be for two moments, but is immediately altered by the ambient air. If it be said that the body suffers well the same variations of the air. I answer that it is not exposed naked to the air, whose excessive qualities are abated by our clothes. Otherwise, every one would be inconvenienced therewith, unless he were accustomed to it from his birth, as the Savages are. Besides, the air adheres not to the skin, and so makes but a transient impression. It must be used after digestion, & we know not when this is ended; the body being purged, which it seldom is as it ought; otherwise it excites fluxions in such as are full-bodied, and subject to catarrhs. It fills the head with vapours; it relaxes the nerves and ligaments, so that some have never felt the Gout but after bathing, It kills the infant in the womb, even when it is too hot. 'Tis an enemy to those that have Tetters or Erysipelas, to fat and full bodied persons, and generally to all that are not accustomed to it; as if this element were not innocent, but as the most mischievous things are when made familiar by custom. As for bathing in rivers, those that swim therein, as most do, strain themselves more than does them good, besides the incommodities which they receive from the air whereunto they are exposed. So that if you add the loss of time to the rich, the charge to the poor, and incommodity to all, you will not wonder that most men abstain from them, and that Seneca chose no fitter place to die in then a Bath.  
The Fourth said, That a Bath being one of the things called by the Physicians not-natural, that is, whose right or ill use hurts or does good, no more distinction need be used in it then there is in eating, drinking, sleeping, waking, and such other things. But the advantages of a Bath rightly used have none equal to them. First it cleanses the body, and gives a man a new skin; opens the pores, to let out the fumes and steams of the vessels, which also are tempered by the water's sweet and mild quality. It corrects dryness, the enemy of life, which consists in humidity, reducing the same to a just temper; whence lean and hectical persons receive more benefit from it then any others. Moreover, Nature hath provided for other habits and complexions by the various mixtures of mineral-waters, having composed hot baths of Salt, Bitumen, Sulphur, and other Minerals, through which they pass; which strengthen the nerves and joints, cure Palsies, as sea-water doth scabs: But bathing chiefly regards fresh water. It takes away weariness, tempers the heat of weather, causes sleep, and is one of the most innocent pleasures of life. But he that would know all the commodities of it must have tried what ease it gives in the greatest pains, especially in Colicks of all sorts, whence 'tis called Paradise by those that are tormented therewith. Wherefore to take away bathing, is to reject one of the best remedies in Physic, and one of the greatest benefits of life.  
The Fifth said, That the Ancients, having not yet the use of linen to free themselves from the soil contracted upon their bodies, chiefly in wrestling and exercising naked upon the sand, were obliged to the use of Baths, which became so easy and of so little cost to the multitude, that they paid but a farthing a time; whence Seneca calls the Bath rem quadrantariam. And it cost them nothing after Antoninus Pius had caused a stately Bath to be built for the public, as Capitolinus reports. But at length their use grew into abuse; after women came to bathe themselves with men, the Censors were fain to forbid them, under penalty of Divorce, and loss of Dowry.   

II. Whether the Wife hath more love for her Husband, or the Husband for his Wife.  
Upon the second Point, it was said, That the Poet of our time who said, that he would marry his Mistress that so he might love her less, employed thereby that we less love what is already obtained. But he determines not the Question, who is soon weary of loving, or who loves most, the Husband or the Wife; where love must be distinguished from friendship, being a passion of the Concupiscible appetite tending towards sensible good, apprehended such by the Fancy, whereas friendship is a most perfect virtue leading the will to honest good, known such by the Understanding; the former many times being opposite to the latter, inasmuch as the Passions of the Appetite disturb Reason, and by excess rise up to jealousy; whereas the latter can have no excess; for the more it is excessive the more it deserves the name of friendship. 'Tis therefore necessary that the woman, whose fancy is stronger and intellect less perfect, have more love and less friendship; the husband, on the contrary, more friendship and less love. Which extends also to children, whom the mother's love with more passion and tendernss, but the father's more solidly; which affection may serve for a proof and evidence of that in question.  
The Second said, That the praise of constancy in love is due to man, whose mind is more perfect, and consequently less mutable. And whereas love proceeds from knowledge, it will follow that men who understand more do also love more. And want of affection would be more unblamable in the man then in the woman, as presupposing his defect of judgement in being mistaken in his choice; men usually choosing their wives, and the wives only accepting of the husbands who address to them. For there's great difference between the liberty our will hath to be carried to what object it pleases, and only the turn of approving or rejecting what is offered to it. So that the woman who loves not her husband may say, that she was mistaken but in one point, namely, in accepting what she should have refused; but the husband in as many as he had objects in the world capable of his friendship. Besides, 'twould be shameful to the husband, the head and master of the family, to be inferior to his wife in the essential point which renders their marriage happy or unfortunate. And Gracchus' choosing death that his wife Cornelia might live, (having slain the male of two Serpents whom he found together, upon the Augur's assuring him of the said effect, as it came to pass) shows that we want not examples for proof of this truth; as that of Semiramis, who having the supreme authority committed to her but for one day, caused her husband who had granted the same, and been indulgent to her all his life, to be put to death; and the 49 daughters of Danaus, who all slew their husbands in one night, prove the same.  
The Third said, That amity being begotten and increased by necessity, the woman, as the weaker, hath more need of support and protection from the man, and so is more obliged to love him; and therefore nature hath providently implanted in her a greater tenderness and inclination to love, because all her happiness depends on her husband's good or ill treatment of her, which is commonly according to her love to him. To which end also the woman is endued with beauty and a more delicate body, and consequently more apt to give and receive love then men, whose exercises require a temper more hot and dry, whereby to undergo the travels of life. And if examples be needful, the contest of the Indian wives who should cast herself into her husband's funeral fire, together with whatever most precious thing she hath, in testimony of greatest love, suffices to prove this conclusion; no men having ever been seen to burn for love of their wives. Yea, when anciently one man had abundance of wives (a custom still practised amongst the Turks) 'twas impossible for the husband to have as much love for his wives as they had for him, being in all ages contented with one alone, and consecrating to him their whole affection; which the more common it is, is so much the less strong.    

CONFERENCE LXXXIV.  
I. Of Respiration. II. Whether there be any certainty in humane Sciences.  

I. Of Respiration.  
ALthough our natural heat be of a degree more eminent than the elementary, yet 'tis preserved after the same manner, namely, by addition of new matter, and emission of fuliginous vapours, ever resulting from the action of heat upon humidity: both which are done by the means of respiration, which is the attraction of air by the mouth or nostrils into the Lungs, and from thence into the Heart, where the purest part of this air is changed into vital spirits, which are also refreshed and ventilated by it. For though as much goes forth by expiration as is taken in by inspirations, yet the air we breathe is nevertheless turned into our spirits; for that which issues forth is not air alone, but 'tis accompanied with hot gross vapours streaming from the heart, the furnace of our heat. And as respiration is proper to perfect animals, so the imperfect have only transpiration, which is when the same air is attracted by the imperceptible pores of the body. Which is sufficient for animals whose heat is languid, as Infects, the Child in the womb, and hysterical women, in whom also (hereupon) the pulse ceases for a good while. And whereas the air kills fishes when they are long exposed to it, it cannot serve for the support of their natural heat which is very small. Wherefore they respire with water which is more natural and familiar to them, causing the same effects in them that the air doth in land-animals.  
The Second said, As the aliments ought to be suitable to the parts of the body which they nourish, the soft and spongy Lungs attracting the thin bilious blood, the spleen the gross and melancholy; so the spirits of the animal must be repaired by others proportionate thereunto and of suitable matter, for recruiting the continual loss of that spiritual substance, the seat of the natural heat and radical moisture. Wherefore animals which have aqueous spirits, as fishes, repair the same by water which they respire by the mouth, the purest part of which water is turned into their spirits, and the more gross omitted by their gills. But land-animals, whose spirits are aerious and more subtle, and whose heat is more sensible, have need of air to serve for suitable matter to such spirits, for which end nature has given them Lungs. Yet with this difference, that as some fish attract a more subtle and tenuious water, to wit, that of Rivers, and some again a more gross, as those which live in Lakes and Mud: So according as animals have different spirits, some breathe a thin air, as Birds, others more gross, as Men and most Beasts; others an air almost terrestrial and material, as Moles; and amongst those which have only transpiration, flies attract a thin air, and Worms a thick.  
The Second said, That our natural heat, being celestial and divine, may indeed be refreshed by the air, but not fed and supported as the parts of our body are by solid and liquid food. For food must be in some manner like the thing nourished, because 'tis to be converted into its substance. Now there's no proportion between the gross and impure air which we breathe, and that celestial and incorporeal substance. Nor can nutrition be effected, unless the part to be nourished retain the aliment for some time, to prepare and assimilate it; but, on the contrary, the air attracted by respiration is expelled as soon as it hath acquired heat within, and is become unprofitable to refresh and cool. This respiration is an action purely animal and voluntary, since 'tis in our power to increase, diminish, or wholly interrupt it, as appears by Licinius, Macer, and Coma, who, by the report of Valerius Maximus, killed themselves by holding their breath.  
The Fourth said, That Respiration being absolutely necessary to life is not subject to the command of the will, but is regulated by nature, because it doth its actions better than all humane deliberations. Nor is it ever weary, as the animal faculty is, whose action is not continual as this of respiration is, even during sleep, which is the cessation of all animal actions, and wherein there is no election or apprehension of objects (a necessary condition to animal actions) yea in the lethargy, apoplexy, and other symptoms, wherein the brain being hurt, the animal actions are interrupted, yet respiration always remains unprejudiced.  
The Fifth said, That respiration is neither purely natural (as concoction and distribution of the blood are; nor yet simply animal, (as speaking and walking are) but partly animal, partly natural, as the retaining or letting go of urine is. 'Tis natural in regard of its end and absolute necessity, and its being instituted for the vital faculty of the heart, which is purely natural; animal and voluntary, inasmuch as 'tis performed by means of 65 intercostal muscles, the organs of voluntary motion, whereby it may be made faster or slower.   

II. Whether there be any certainty in humane Sciences.  
Upon the second Point 'twas said, That all our knowledge seems to be false. First, on the part of the object, there being but one true of itself, namely God, whom we know not, and cannot know; because to know adaequately is to comprehend, and to comprehend is to contain; and the thing contained must be less than that which contains it. To know a thing inadaequately, is not to know it. Secondly, on the part of our Intellect, which must be made like to what it knows, or rather turned into its nature; whence he that thinks of a serious thing becomes serious himself; he that conceives some ridiculous thing laughs without design, and all the longings of Child-bearing-women end where they begun. But 'tis impossible for us to become perfectly like to what we would know. Thirdly, this impossibility proceeds from our manner of knowing, which being by some inference or consequence from what is already known, we can never know any thing, because we know nothing at all when we come into the world. And should we acquire any knowledge, it would be only by our internal and external senses. Both both are fallacious, and consequently, cannot afford certain knowledge. For, as for the external, the eye which seems the surest of all the senses, apprehends things at distance to be less than they really are, a strait stick in the water to be crooked, the Moon to be of the bigness of a Cheese, though 'tis near that of the Earth; the Sun greater at rising and setting then at noon, the Shore to move and the Ship to stand still, square things to be round at distance, an erect Pillar to be less at the top. Nor is the hearing less subject to mistake, as the Echo, and a Trumpet sounded in a valley, makes the sound seem before us when 'tis far behind us. Pronunciation altars the sense of words; besides, that both these senses are erroneous in the time of their perception, as is seen in felling of woods and thunder. The Smell and Taste, yea the Touch itself, how gross soever it be, are deceived every day in sound persons as well as in sick; and what do our drinkers in rubbing their palates with Salt and Spice but wittingly beguile it, grating the skin thereof that so the wine may punge it more sensibly. But the great fallacy is in the operation of the inward Senses. For the Fancy oftentimes is persuaded that it hears and sees what it doth not; and our reasoning is so weak, that in many disciplines scarce one Demonstration is found, though this alone produceth Science. Wherefore 'twas Democritus' opinion that Truth is hidden in a well, that she may not be found by men.  
The Second said, That to know, is to understand the cause whereby a thing is, and to be certain that there can be no other but that; the word cause being taken for principle. Therefore when men know by the Senses, by effects, by external accidents, or such other things which are not the cause, they cannot be said to know by Science; which requires that the understanding be fully satisfied in its knowledge, wherein if there be any doubt it hath not Science, but Opinion. This scientifical knowledge is found in no other discipline but Logic and Geometry, in regard of the certainty of their principles, which are so clear that they are alike known by all, even the most ignorant, who need only understand their terms to assent to their truth. Such as these are; every thing which is said of the Genus is also said of the Species; and what is not said of the Genus, is not said of the Species; which they call Dictum de omni, & de nulle. If to equal things you add equal things, the remainder will be equal. And if to unequal things you add unequal things, the remainder will be unequal. For whereas beasts have a natural faculty which is the common sense, or estimative faculty, whereby they judge of the convenience or inconvenience of objects the first time the same are presented to them: Man, beyond this natural power, enabling him to judge of sensible objects, hath a peculiar one, which is the Intellectual, by means whereof he is said to be every thing in power, because it enables him to know every thing, and to judge of the truth or falsehood of universal things, which are Principles. And as the eye beholding white or black judges sufficiently what colour it is, without seeking reasons thereof elsewhere then within itself; so the Intellect discerns the truth of principles by itself, without the help of any other faculty, yea without the habit of any Science, because these principles being before the Science whereof they are principles must be more clear and known than it; whence Intelligence is defined the habit or knowledge of such first Principles. Thus, ask a Geometrician why the whole is greater than its part, he can give you no other reason but that 'tis a principle known of its own nature.  
The Third said, That Geometry, being the knowledge of eternal truths by infallible principles, is most certain. And 'tis an evidence of its certainty that it neither proposes nor demonstrates why a thing is such, but only that it is such. As 'tis proposed and demonstrated that in the same segment of a circle all the angles are equal, but not why they are so, because 'tis a truth which comes to our knowledge by certain principles, and propositions formerly demonstrated, as certain as the principles themselves. Hence this truth is demonstrated, which nevertheless hath not any cause of its existence, as frail and perishing things have; no material being abstracted from all matter; nor efficient, for the agent▪ is not any way considered therein; nor formal, an angle being of its own nature only the inclination of lines; nor yet final, this being not made to any intention. In like manner 'tis demonstrated that four numbers or four lines being proportional (that is, when there is such reason of the first to the second, as of the third to the fourth) the square of the two extremes is equal to the square of the two middlemost; but not why 'tis so, this question occurring only in dubious things.  
The Fourth said, That knowledge being desired by all men, who for this end are endued with an Intellect capable of all sorts of notions, it must needs be found in some subjects, otherwise nature should have given us a general desire of a thing which is not. And since there are causes of every thing, there must be a Science of those causes. But the multitude of apparent causes is the reason that we are oftentimes ignorant of the right, and take one for another, the shadow for the body, and appearance for truth. Which argues not that there is no knowledge, but rather few knowing persons. For Socrates who said he knew nothing but that he knew nothing; and the Pyrrhonians who doubted of every thing had even a knowledge of their ignorance. Moreover, the exact knowledge men have by the senses of particular things necessarily carries them to that of universals, wherein Science consists. As he that often experienced in divers persons that Sena purged their melancholy, acquires of himself this general Notion, that all Sena purges melancholy. And, on the contrary, he who understands a general proportion in gross, may of himself apply the same to all particulars; so great a connexion there is between things universal and particular, in which the fruit of Science consists.  
The Fifth said, Since all knowledge depends upon another prenotion, which is what they call principles, those which compose the Sciences must also distinguish the same. Wherefore Sciences are to be termed certain or uncertain according as the pre-existent notions whereupon they are founded are certain or not. Now amongst those principles some are universal, common to all Sciences; as those of Metaphysics; in all things either the affirmative or the negative is true; that which is not hath no propriety. Besides which 'tis necessary to have particular one's proper to the Science, which are true, first, immediate, causes of the Conclusion, preceding and more known than it. The six conditions requisite to principles in order to a demonstration. They must be true, not false; for that which is false exists not; that which exists not cannot be a cause of that which exists, nor consequently a false principle be the cause of a true demonstration: First, that is not provable by others: immediate, so enjoined with the attribute that there is nothing between them two to join them more nearly: causes of the conclusion, that is, this principle must be the necessary cause of this truth; and consequently precede and be more known than it. As taking this for a principle, that the interposition of an opake body between light and a body illuminated causes a shadow upon this body; we conclude, that as often as the earth is found interposed between the Sun, which is the light, and the Moon which is the body illuminated, it will necessarily come to pass that there will be a shadow upon the body of the Moon, which is its Eclipse.  
The Sixth said, 'Twas the error of Socrates, that observing our Sciences depending on other preceding notions, he apprehended that we learned nothing new, but that Science was nothing but the remembrance of what the soul formerly knew before its being enclosed in this body: not considering that the knowledge of principles and notions is confused and not distinct; and that the knowledge of them in gross is not sufficient to denominate a person knowing; but that we must first draw universal conclusions from them, then apply the same to particulars, without which application those principles would be unprofitable, and not produce any Science. Thus the Divine applies this general principle, that that which is contrary to the Law of God is evil, to particular conclusions, as to murder, theft and perjury. The Physician, who holds for a Principle that Contraries are cured by their Contraries, draws these other conclusions from it, that a cold distemper is cured by hot medicaments, a hot by refrigerating; obstruction, by openers; which he applies again to particular subjects. The Statesman, from this general Principle, That every thing that disturbs the public quiet is to be repressed, concludes that the Seditious are to be punished. So, 'tis not enough for a Mathematician to know that equal things added to equal things are likewise equal, unless he apply this universal principle to particular lines, surfaces and bodies. Which is done either by the Synthetical, or by the Analytical way (which nevertheless must be followed by the Synthetical.) Now 'tis in the application of these general rules to particulars, that error is committed even in the most certain Sciences.  
The Seventh said, That there are few Sciences, because there are few Principles and Propositions demonstrable: as the contingent and the absolute are not. Whence it is that the future is not demonstrable, and hence follows the incertainty of Politics. Wherefore only necessary Propositions, whereof (the truth is) permanent and eternal are demonstrable; and all these are necessarily demonstrable because they have infallible principles: yet only such of these whose principles are known by men are demonstrable by men. So 'tis certain that the Inundation of Nilus, and the flux and reflux of the Sea are not demonstrable; because men know not, the principles are not known. Whereby it appears how ridiculous they are who undertake to demonstrate every thing.    

CONFERENCE LXXXV.  
I. Whether the manners of the Soul follow the temperament of the Body. II. Of Sights or Shows.  

I. Whether the manners of the Soul follow the temperament of the Body.  
THe extreme variety of men's actions and manners cannot proceed from the diversity of their souls, which are accounted all equal, but from that of the bodies; wherein according to the various tempers thereof the soul produces that variety of manners. And as, in natural and animal actions, one and the same Soul digests in the stomach, makes blood in the Liver and Veins, sees by the Eyes, and reasons in the Brain; so, likewise, it is sometimes sad, when the melancholy humour predominates in the body; sometimes cheerful, when blood abounds; and sometimes also froward or angry, when the choler is agitated.  
The Second said, That the soul being the form, as the body is the matter, it must be the cause of all humane actions; not the body, which receives them, since the soul informs and perfectionates the body, and begets in it the habit which produces the manners and actions. As the horse governs not the rider, but the contrary; and 'tis to the rider that the honour or blame of the course is to be imputed. And were the soul but a quality, as the most profane have ventured to affirm, yet the same privilege must be reserved to it which is allowed to the predominant quality in every compound, which gives it not only the denomination but also the action: as in compound medicaments the most active simple carries the credit from the rest. Besides, if the body and the humours thereof were the author and cause of manners, an ignorant person could never become learned, and a single Lecture of Xenocrates had never made a Drunkard cast off his chaplet of flowers, and turn a Philosopher. The examples of many grand personages sufficiently ill furnished with graces of the body, evidence what certainty there is in arguing from the outside of the corporeal structure to the furniture of the soul; and that the signs of malice, remarked in some, as in Zoilus, from his having a red beard, a black mouth, and being lame, and one-eyed; of Thersites, and Irus, from their having sharp heads, rather show the malice or ignorance of such as make these remarks, then prove that these dispositions of body are the true cause of malice; we see people of the same temper, hair, stature, features, and other circumstances, very different in their manners and inclinations. And the same is observed in horses. For since the Stars, the most powerful agents, do not constrain, but only incline, certainly the humours cannot do more. True it is, their inclination is so strong, that no less grace of Heaven is needful to resist the same, than strength to retain a man that is rolling down the declivity of a hill: Yet Socrates remaining unmoved by the embraces of a Courtesan, whom his Scholars contrived into his bed, to try him, although he was naturally very prone to vice, justifies that how hard soever it be to stop the slipping foot when it is once going, yet 'tis not impossible; and therefore the manners of the soul do not always follow the constitution of the body. Not considering the power which the fear of God hath over our wills, the effects whereof I here meddle not with, as being supernatural, since they have sometimes destroyed all the maxims of nature; witness those that give themselves to be burnt for the faith.  
The Third said, That the body must needs contribute to the soul's actions, as being its instrument. But it contributes only what it hath, namely, its temperament, and other proprieties. Therefore 'tis from this temperament that the same are diversified. The soul sees no longer when the eyes are shut or blinded: 'tis wise in a well tempered brain (not only in a dry, as Plato, in his Timaeus, conceived, because he saw children grow more prudent as their brain was desiccated) 'tis stupid in a too moist brain, and foolish or furious in one inflamed, as in deliration or madness. 'Tis also forced to leave its body when a violent Fever hath so depraved the humours thereof that there remains not the temper necessary to its reception. Therefore it follows the temper of the humours. Thus, because we see fire introduced into any combustible subject, and extinguished when the same is consumed, we say fire follows combustible matter, and becomes of the same nature, quantity, and other qualities. Moreover, Hypocrates saith, Nations are warlike or cowardly, laborious or not, of good or bad nature, according to the diversity of climates and soils they inhabit, which render them diversely tempered. Hence, in Asia, where the air is temperate, and less subject to changes than Europe and Africa, men are more healthy and handsome, their manners more equal and laudable: on the contrary, in Countries more cold or hot, the inhabitants are either more cruel or more boisterous, more hardy or more timorous; and Mountaineers are more industrious, as, on the contrary, those who live in a fertile soil are commonly more slothful. Hence, amongst the Greeks, the Thebans and all the Baeotians, whose Country was rich, and the air very thick, were very dull, and the Athenians very subtle: which was the cause that 'twas said, people were born Philosophers at Athens: on the contrary, 'twas a prodigious thing to see one wise Anacharsis among the Scythians. Hypocrates adds the seasons too, according to the change whereof men's manners are also found divers. But all these cannot act upon the soul but by the organ of the body, changing its humours, and introducing new qualities into the parts thereof.  
The Fourth said, Even sucking children give some tokens to what their constitution inclines them, before the contraction of any habit, virtuous or vicious; some of courage; others of timidity; some of modesty, others of impudence; and as soon as they begin to speak, some are liars, others love truth. And of two children taught by the same Master, the hardest student is many times a less prosicient than the other, who hath a temper proper for learning, and is as inclined to it as another is to Merchandise, Mechanics, Travel, War; or this will be quarrelsome, the other respectful and discreet; one is born to servitude, and the other prefers his liberty before a Kingdom. So that not only the moral actions of the will, but also those of the understanding absolutely depend on the body, the soul being of a spiritual nature which of itself can never produce any sensible effect without the mediation of some body, not so much as exercise its proper actions of Willing and Understanding; both which depend on the phantasms, which are intellectual species fabricated by the agent intellect in the Patient, upon the model of those that were brought by the senses into the imagination: hence, if these be altered or depraved by the spirits or humous flowing to the brain, reasoning becomes either diminished or depraved, or else wholly abolished, the spirits so confounding these phantasms that the intellect cannot make its reviews, nor compose or divide them in order to elicit its conclusions, and frame its notions. For souls differ only by the spirits, the tenuity and lucidity whereof is proper for contemplation, their abundance makes a man bold, their inflammation renders him frantic, their defect causeth sloth and cowardice: and being designed to serve equally to the actions of the soul and body they were made of a middle nature between body and spirit; whence they are called spiritual bodies, and are the cause of union between them, and mutual communication of their passions and affections. So the body's diseases affect the soul, and disturb its operations, the spirits abandoning the brain to succour the grieved parts: the bilious humour in the ventricles of the brain, or a tumour and a Sphacelus cause madness, the blood overheated causeth simple folly accompanied with laughter; melancholy produceth serious folly. In like manner, the body resents the passions of the soul; fear causeth trembling and paleness, shame, blushing, anger, foaming: and all this by the spirits.  
The Fifth said, If manners depended on tempers, virtues might be easily acquired by the course of diet; which seems ridiculous. For then the divine faculties of the soul should depend not only upon meats but upon all other things not natural; which would be to subject the Queen to her servants, to enslave the will and take away its liberty which makes it to be what it is. Besides, Theology cannot consist with this conclusion, which would acquit persons of blame, and lay it upon nature as its author. For he that should commit some evil choleric action or other sin, could not avoid it, being lead thereunto by the bilious humour produced by nature, whereunto 'tis almost impossible to resist, and so he would seem innocent, and unjustly punished for what he committed not voluntarily; though without the will there is no sin. Moreover, men would not be variable, but always the same, the bilious always angry, the sanguine ever in love, etc. and yet we see men exercise all sorts of virtues, and capable of all vices. Many beasts have not only the same constitution of brain, but also external shape like that of man, as Apes, (whose bones are so like those of men, that in Galen's time Anatomists considered only their Sceletons) yea, the same temper, and all internal parts alike, as Swine; and there's little or no difference between the brain of man and a calf; and yet none of these animals have actions like those of men; which being purely spiritual and intellectual must depend upon another cause, the rational soul, whose actions are not any way organical; for than it should be corporeal, because proceeding from the body, and consequently mortal.   

II. Of Sights or Shows.  
Upon the second Point 'twas said, That the communication of the ills and goods of the soul and body has put men upon searching what may relieve the languishing strength of either. And as the soul is delighted by bodily pleasures, so it also, in gratitude, returns the like pleasure to the body, by the contentment which it receives in acquiring knowledge, the least laborious of which is that most recreative, as that is which is conveyed by the sight. For the hearing makes us know things only one after another; but the sight showing them all at once, more fully satisfies our natural desire of knowing. Hence all people, from the highest to the lowest, are so delighted with shows or spectacles, that the Romans kept Actors and Comedians with public pensions; and Cicero publicly commended Roscius, who alone had 12000 crowns for a stipend from the Roman people. They employed the incomes of the woods about Rome, dedicated to their gods, for the maintaining of Theatres, Amphitheatres, Cirques, and other places destinated to shows, wherein the Senators and Knights had the fourteen first ranks or seats; for whose conveniency Q. Catulus covered the Scene with veils of sine linen; Lucius and Cinna made a versatile or shifting Scene; P. Claudius was the first that adorned it with pictures and tables; C. Antonius covered it with silver; Murena made one of pure silver; Trebonius one guilded; others, inlaid with Ivory: Nero sprinkled all the place of the Cirque where the horses run, with gold-sand, and covered it with veils beset with stars, in form of a sky: Heliogabalus made an Euripus of wine at the Circensian plays, in which he caused a Naval Battle to be represented; as if the wickedest Princes could not have covered their enormities with a more specious liberality or more agreeable to the people. These spectacles were likewise used at the funerals of great Princes, and made part of their service of the gods. They divert the great, make the miserable forget their affliction, are the true physic of the soul, the book of the ignorant, and the only way truly to revive the transactions of former ages.  
The Second said, Nothing is so destructive to good manners as the frequentation of Theatres and most other spectacles: which is the most dangerous, for that things represented to the eyes make deeper impression in the mind then by any other sense. Which made Aristotle advise the prohibiting of Comedies, and S. Augustin declare them contrary to piety and honesty. The same is the opinion of all the Fathers, particularly Tertullian, who in an express treatise blames all sort of spectacles, as proceeding from the superstition of Paganism, causing troubles and quarrels; yea rendering men capable of all sort of wickedness by the impression of their examples. For the sights of Mimes and Pantomimes are ridiculous; Rope-dancers unprofitable; Farces or Interludes dangerous, and enemies to purity; Comedy, the least dangerous of all sights, besides loss of time, renders men's minds soft and effeminate, and more susceptible of the passions represented therein; Tragedy is too sad to serve for divertisement to the soul. If you proceed to Gladiators, is any thing more inhuman, and that renders men more barbarous then to see our fellow-men kill one another in cold blood, and expose themselves to wild beasts? and 'tis always a dangerous practice to accustom the eyes to murders and bloody spectacles; nature being easily perverted by custom. Moreover, all these Mimes, Actors, Sword-players, and the like, were always held infamous, and incapable of public charges; insomuch that the Emperor Theodosius, Arcadius, and Honorius, in L. 4. C. de Spectaculis Scenicis, and Lenonibus, forbid to defile their sacred images by the society of those people who act upon the Theatre, ranking them with the corrupters of chastity. And the Romans, who practised the same more than any Nation, felt the inconvenience of them when the most potent became masters of the Commonwealth, by means of the spectacles wherewith they allured the people to their party; as Julius Caesar, who being Aedile, and having given Gladiators, Hunt, Sports, Races, and sumptuous Feasts to the people of Rome, they created him Chief Pontife, although Q. Catulus, and Servilius Isauricus, two great personages, were his competitors: which was his first step to Sovereignty; and Suetonius observes, that the conflux of people was so numerous, that many, and, amongst the rest, two Senators were smothered in the throng.  
The Third said, That Spectacles or Shows are good or bad according to the things which they represent. But absolutely speaking, they ought to be permitted, not only for the diversion of men, but also for the exercising of youth, and animating them to courage by rewards for their fortitude; as the Greeks sometimes appointed Statues, Crowns of gold, Olive, Palm, Smallage, and other such guerdons, to those who overcame in Running, Wrestling, Caestus or fight with Whorlbats, and such exercises, carrying them in a triumphal Chariot to the Town of their Birth; showing themselves so careful of the Olympic Games, that they committed the charge thereof to the Sicyonians, after Corinth, the place where they were formerly celebrated, had been razed by the Romans, who transferred those Plays into their own City by the persuasion of Cato, for the same end of educating their youth. For as profit delights some spirits, so pleasure allures all; and of pleasures none is more innocent and communicable then that of the sight.    

CONFERENCE LXXXVI.  
I. Of the Dog-days. II. Of the Mechanics.  

I. Of the Dog-days.  
THat the Stars act upon sublunary bodies is agreed upon, but not the manner: some holding that they impress some qualities by motion, others by light, others by their influence, others by both together, producing heat by the two first, and other more extraordinary effects by influences. For every thing that is moved heats; as also all sort of light united, even that of the Moon, whose rays may be made to burn with glasses as well as those of the Sun. But because natural agents cannot act beyond the natural bounds of their power, therefore heat produced of light and motion here below can produce only its like, heat, or such other alteration in inferior bodies, not those strange and irregular changes not only in the temper of the air, but of every other body. As that it is sometimes hotter, and sometimes colder, in the same elevation of the Sun, cannot be attributed to his approach or remotion, or to the incidence of his perpendicular or oblique rays, but it must proceed from the conjunction, opposition, or several aspects of other Stars. Amongst which the Canicula or Dog-star hath very extraordinary effects; as to weaken men's bodies, to make dogs run mad, to turn the wine in the vessel, to make the sea boil, to move lakes, to heat the air so much that Pliny affirms that Dolphins keep themselves hid during the 30 Dog-days: at which he wonders the more because they can respire neither in the water nor upon the earth, but partly in the air, partly in the water. Moreover, Experience shows, that the Hyadeses or Pleyades (stars in the back of the Bull) have such a moist quality that they always cause rain at their rising, which happens in November; as Arcturus never rises without bringing hail or tempest; the Moon being full, Oysters, Muscles, and the sap of Trees, are so too, and therefore being cut at this time they soon rot; and Pliny counsels to cut them during the Dog-days, when the heat of the season has dried up all their aqueous moisture, which is the cause of their corrupting.  
The Second said, That the vanity of Astrologers, who have phancy'd monsters and sundry figures in Heaven, and attributed imaginary effects to them, the better to amuse men's minds with some resemblance of the truth, hath also feigned two dogs there; one less, consisting of two stars; and another of eighteen, the the greatest of which is the brightest in our Hemisphere, and is in the tongue of this Dog, whom the Greeks and Latins call Sirius, and ascribe so much power to him, that they conceive his conjunction with the Sun in the East causes the scorching heat of Summer; yea, the people of the Isle of Cea, near Negropont, as Cicero reports, took their presages of the whole year from the rising of this star, determining the same to be rainy, in case this star appeared obscure and and cloudy; and the contrary. But this cannot be true, as well in regard of the great distance of the fixed stars, which also being of the same substance cannot have contrary qualities; as also by reason of the retrogradation of their sphere, which hath a motion contrary to that of the First Mover, namely, from West to East; which motion, though insensible in few years, yet amounts to much at the end of many Ages. As is justified by the Dog-star, which Ptolemy in the tables of his time places at 18. degr. 10. min. of Gemini; Alphonsus, King of Castille, at the 4. degr. of Cancer; and now 'tis found at 9 degr. 54. min. according to Tycho, and at 9 degr. 30. min. according to Copernicus. Whereby it appears, that after many years this star will be in the winter signs, and that at the Creation it was in Aries at the Vernal Equinox, and that, consequently, the Dog-days will be in the time of the greatest cold. In brief, were there such power in this conjunction, the Dog-days would be hot and burning; and yet in some years they are cold and rainy: Which the Astrologers attributing to the several Aspects of Saturn, or other cold stars, see not that by weakening the force of some by others, they subvert all. Wherefore the Dog-star is at present the sign, but not the cause of hot days; that is, the happening of this Constellation in the Summer signs, and its conjunction with the Sun during hot weather, has been erroneously believed the principal cause thereof, which, in my judgement, is to be sought only in the continuance of the Sun's action during the Spring and half the Summer, whereby the Air is hotter than when he was nearer us. So 'tis hotter at two a clock in the afternoon then at ten in the morning, although the Sun be at the same distance, yea, then at noon, although he be then nearest of all; and we read that an Ambassador of Presbyter John died with heat as he landed at Lisbon, although the heat be not so great there as in his Country, but of louger continuance. If it reins sometimes during the said season, 'tis by reason of too great attraction of Vapours by the heat of the Sun; as is seen in the torrid Zone, where when the Sun is in the greatest Apogaeum it reins continually.  
The Second said, That the Longitude of the Dog-star (called by the Arabians Athabor) is at this day about the 9 degr. of Cancer, and its meridional latitude 39 degr. and a half. Now the Ancients observing the greatest heat of the whole year to be commonly when the Sun is at the end of Cancer and beginning of Leo, and at the same the Dog-star to rise with the Sun, (which the Astronomers call the Cosmical Rising) named those day's Dog-days, which begin with us about the two and twentieth of July: whether they believed the cause of this heat to be that star assisting the Sun; or else, according to their order of distinguishing seasons before years and months were regulated by the course of the Sun, they denoted those days by the rising of this star, conceiving that it did not change place any more than the other stars of the Firmament. As not only the Poets, but also Hypocrates, distinguishes the four Seasons of the year by the rising and setting of the Pleyades and Arcturus. And thus the name of the day hath remained to these days, although the star be not in the same place, following Ages observing that besides the eight motions admitted by the Ancients in the Heavens, namely, of the seven Planets, and the First Mover, there's another peculiar to the starry Heaven, which is finished, according to some, in 36000 years, whereby it comes to pass that the Dog-star is no longer in the same place where it was at the first observation of these Dog-days. For 'tis about two thousand years since this star arose exactly with the Sun in the days which we call Canicular; the heat whereof hath always continued; and yet the star hath passed forward, and at this day rises not with the Sun till about the eighth of August, when the Dog-days and strength of heat begins to expire. Since therefore the effect continues, and the pretended cause exists not at that time, as the Astronomical Tables justify, it follows that it is not the cause of that effect. Wherefore some have conceived, that the star which made the Dog-days, was another star, in the little Dog called protion. But this protion did not rise with the Sun, in the days of the Ancients, till about the beginning of July, which is three weeks before the Dog-days; which consequently cannot be attributed to the fixed stars, by reason of their particular motion, which causes them to vary situation; the Dog-star by its proper motion proceeding 52. min. every year, which make about 1. degr. in 70. years, 3. degr. in 200. years, and one sign in 2000 Besides, if the stars had any force, the same would be sensible at their coming to the meridian of the place with the Sun, then when they rise with him, because their greatest strength is when they are under the meridian, being then in their greatest elevation above the Horizon and nearest the Zenith, and consequently, most active as experience shows in the Sun. Therefore the true cause of the heat of Dog-days, is, because the Sun being towards the end of Cancer and the beginning of Leo, we have more causes concurring together to produce heat then in any other season of the year, namely, the elevation of the Sun above the horizon, the length of the days, and shortness of the nights. For then the days are not sensibly diminished, nor the nights sensibly increased; the Sun hath not yet suffered any considerable change in his altitude above the Horizon; but above all the preparation of the earth, which hath been heated during the three months of the Spring, and a month and half of the Summer, whereby all the aqueous humidity which refrigerateth is dissipated, and the heat so far impacted into the earth that the night itself is less cold than in any other season.  
The Fourth said, As 'tis absurd to seek in the stars for causes of effects when we see them manifest in the qualities of inferior bodies, and the various concourse of so many different natural causes: So 'tis stupidity to deny all virtue to those great superior orbs, rejecting wise Antiquity and all the most learned judiciary Astrologers, who ascribe a particular virtue to each star, as to the Dog-star to heat and scorch the Air. Moreover, the Divine Hypocrates, lib. de Affect. inter Sect. 5. affirms, that the disease called Typhos happens commonly in Summer and in these Dog-days, because it hath a power to stir the choler through the whole Body. And in his book De Aere, locis, & aquis, he adds, that the rising of the stars is diligently to be observed, especially that of the Dog-star and some few others, at which times diseases turn into other kinds; for which reason he saith, Aph. 5. Sect. 4. That purging is dangerous when the Dog-star rises, and some while before.  
The Fifth said, That all purging medicaments being hot, 'tis no wonder if they are carefully to be managed during very hot weather, in which there is a great dissipation of the spirits and strength; so that our Bodies, being then languid, cannot be moved and agitated without danger. Not that the Dog-star contributes any thing thereunto, but only the heat of the season caused by the Sun, which attracting from the centre to the circumference, and purging from the circumference to the centre, there are made two contrary motions, enemies to Nature; which is the cause that many fall then into fevers and fainting fits.   

II. Of the Mechanics.  
Upon the Second Point 'twas said, That as the object of the Mathematics is twofold, either intellectual or sensible, so there are two sorts of Mathematics. Some consider their object simply, and abstracted from all kind of matter, namely, Geometry and Arithmetic; others consider it as conjoined to some matter, and they are six, Astrology, Perspective, Geodaesie, Canonic or Music, the Logistick and the Mechanic Art, which is nothing less than what its name imports, being otherwise the most admirable of all; because it communicates motion, which is the most exquisite effect of Nature. 'Tis divided into Organical, which composes all instruments and engines of war; sordid, which makes utensils necessary to the uses of life; and miraculous, which performs strange and extraordinary things. 'Tis this which makes water ascend in the Pneumaticks, whereof Hero writ a Treatise rendering the same melodious, and resembling the singing of birds in the Hydraulicks. It makes use of the four Elements, which are the causes of the motions of engines, as of Fire in Granades, Air in Artificial Fountains, both Fire and Air by their compression, which water not admitting▪ (since we see a vessel full of water can contain nothing more) its violence consists in its gravity when it descends from high places. The Earth is also the cause of motion by its gravity, when 'tis out of Aequilibrium, as also of rest when 'tis equally poised, as is seen in weights.  
The Second said, The wit of Man could never preserve the dominion given him by God over other creatures without help of the Mechanics, but by this art he hath brought the most savage and rebellious Animals to his service. Moreover, by help of mechanical inventions the four Elements are his slaves, and as it were at his pay to do his works. Thus we see, by means of the Hydraulicks or engines moving by water, wheels, and pumps, are set continually at work; the Wind is made to turn a Mill, managed by the admirable Art of Navigation, or employed to other uses by Aealipila's; Fire, the noblest of all Elements, becomes the vassal of the meanest Artisans, or serves to delight the sight by the pleasant inventions of some Engineer, or employs its violence to arm our thunders more powerfully than the ancient machine's of Demetrius. The Earth is the Theatre of all these inventions, and Archimedes boasted he could move that too, had he place where to fix his engine. By its means the Sun descends to the Earth, and by the artificial union of his rays is enabled to effect more than he can do in his own sphere. The curiosity of man hath carried him even to Heaven by his Astrological Instruments; so that nothing is now done in that republic of the stars, but what he knows and keeps in record.  
The Third said, That since Arts need Instruments to perform their works, they owe all they can do to the Mechanics which supply them with utensils and inventions. 'Twas the Mechanics which furnished the Smith with a hammer and an anvil, the Carpenter with a saw and a wedge, the Architect with a rule, the Mason with a square, the Geometrician with a compass, the Astronomer with an astrolabe, the Soldier with sword and musket; in brief, they have in a manner given man other hands. Hence came paper, writing, printing, the mariner's box, the gun in these latter ages; and in the preceding, the Helepoles, or takecities, flying bridges, ambulatory towers, rams, and other engines of war, which gives law to the world. Hence Archimedes easily drew a ship to him which all the strength of Sicily could not stir, framed a heaven of glass in which all the celestial motions were to be seen; according to which model, the representation of the sphere remains to us at this day. Hence he burned the Roman ships even in their harbour, defended the City of Syracuse for a long time against the Roman Army, conducted by the brave Marcellus. And, indeed, I wonder not that this great Archimedes was in so high in Reputaion. For if men be valued according to their strength, is it not a miracle that one single man by help of mechanics could lift as much as ten, a hundred, yea, a thousand others? And his pretention to move the whole Earth, were a point given him out of it where to stand, will not seem presumptuous, though the supposition be impossible, to such as know his screw without-end, or of wheels placed one above another; for by addition of new wheels the strength of the same might be so multiplied, that no humane power could resist it; yea, a child might by this means displace the whole City of Paris, and France itself, were it upon a movable plane. But the greatest wonder is the simplicity of the means, employed by this Queen of Arts to produce such excellent effects. For Aristotle, who writ a book of mechanics, assigns no other principles thereof, but the Lever, its Hypomoclion, or Support, and a balance, it being certain that of these three multiplied, proceed all Machine's, both Automata, and such as are moved by force of wind, fire, water, or animals, as windmills, water-mills, horsemills, a turn-broch by smoke, and as many other inventions as things in the world.    

CONFERENCE LXXXVII.  
I. Whether the Soul's Immortality is demonstrable by Natural Reasons. II. Whether Travel be necessary to an Ingenuous Man.  

I. Whether the Soul's Immortality is demonstrable by Natural Reasons.  
NAtural Philosophy considers natural bodies as they are subject to alteration, and treats not of the Soul but so far as it informs the Body, and either partakes, or is the cause of such alteration. And therefore they are injust who require this Science to prove supernatural things, as the Soul's Immortality is. Although its admirable effects, the vast extent of its thoughts, even beyond the imaginary spaces, its manner of acting, and vigour in old age, the terrors of future judgement, the satisfaction or remorse of Conscience, and God's Justice, which not punishing all sins in this life presupposes another, are sufficiently valid testimonies thereof; should not the universal consent of heathens themselves, (some of which have hastened their deaths to enjoy this immortality) and man's particular external shape, infer the particular excellence of his internal form. So that by the Philosophical Maxim, which requires that there be contraries in every species of things, if the souls of beasts joined to bodies die, there must be others joined to other bodies, free from death when separated from the same. And the Harmony of the world which permits not things to pass from on extreme to another without some mean, requires as that there are pure spirits and intelligences which are immortal, and substances corporeal and mortal, so there be a middle nature between these two, Man, called by the Platonists upon this account, the horizon of the Universe, because he serves for a link and medium uniting the hemisphere of the Angelical Nature with the inferior hemisphere of corporeal nature. But there is difference between that which is, and that which may be demonstrated by Humane Reason, which falls short in proving the most sensible things, as the specifical proprieties of things; and much less can it prove what it sees not, or demonstrate the attribute of a subject which it sees not. For to prove the Immortality of the Soul, 'tis requisite, at least, to know the two terms of this proportion, The Soul is immortal. But neither of them is known to natural reason; not immortality, for it denotes a thing which shall never have end; but infinity surpasses the reach of humane wit which is finite. And the term, Soul, is so obscure that no Philosophy hath yet been able to determine truly, whether it be a Spirit, or something corporeal, a substance or an accident, single or triple.  
The Second said, That every thing that is mortal and corruptible, is such, in that it hath in itself some cause of this corruption. All mortal bodies, being composed of contrary ingredients, have in themselves the principle of corruption, from which as well simple bodies, as the Elements and Heavens, as Spirits and separate intelligences, are free; because a thing simple in its own nature cannot act upon itself by a destructive action, though even those Spirits have but an arbitrary existence from their first cause on whom they depend. But in the first sense, and of their own nature they are absolutely incorruptible; for were they corruptible, then must some new substance be generated out of that which is corrupted, which is absurd; because they are simple and free from composition, and, consequently, from corruption. Now were reasonable Souls, which are part of man (who is compounded of matter and form) again compounded of matter and form, there would be a progression to infinity in causes, which is contrary to natural reason. Moreover, nothing is corrupted but by its contrary, and therefore that which hath no contrary is free from corruption. But such is the rational soul which is so far from having any contrary, that the most contrary things in Nature, as habits and their privations, being received in the Understanding, are no longer opposites or enemies, but friends and of the same nature; whence the reason of contraries is alike, and there is but one Science of them.  
The Third said, That such as a thing is, such is its action. A corporeal and material substance cannot produce an action which is not corporeal; and an immaterial action owns no other principle but what is immaterial and incorruptible. Hence the same reasons which prove the souls of brutes mortal, because their operations exceed not the bounds of the body, and tend only to self-preservation and sensible good, conclude also, though by a contrary sense, for the immortality of the rational soul, whose operations are spiritual and abstracted from the body. For, nutrition, concoction, assimilation, sense, motion, and other such actions, being corporeal, because terminated upon sensible and corporeal objects, must consequently be produced by a faculty of the same nature corporeal and material. But the reasonable soul, besides those actions which are common to it with those of beasts, hath some peculiar and much more sublime, as by the Intellect to understand eternal truths, to affirm, deny, suspend its judgement, compare things together, abstract them from matter, time, place, and all other sensible accidents; by the will to love and embrace virtue in spite of the contrary inclinations of the sensitive appetite, to do good actions though difficult, to avoid the evil which flatters the senses, and the like; which actions being above the body and material objects cannot be produced but by an immaterial and incorruptible substance, such as the reasonable soul is. Moreover, since the soul can know all sorts of bodies, it must (consequently) be exempt from all corporeal entity, as the tongue to judge aright of sapours must have none, and the eye to discern colours well.  
The Fourth said, That Nature, which makes nothing in vain, hath imprinted in every thing a desire of its end whereof it is capable, as appears by induction of all created Being's. Now the greatest desire of man is immortality, whereunto he directs all his actions and intentions; and therefore he must be capable of it. But since he cannot accomplish this end in this life, as all other things do, it must be in another; without which not only good men would be more unhappy than wicked, but, in general, the condition of men would be worse than that of beasts: if after having endured so many infelicities which brutes experience not, the haven of our miseries were the annihilation of the noblest part of ourselves. Yea, if the soul could not subsist without the body, its supreme good should be in this life, and in the pleasures of the body, and its chiefest misery in afflictions and the exercises of virtue; which is absurd. For whereas 'tis commonly objected, that the soul cannot exercise its noblest functions but by help of corporeal organs rightly disposed; and that when it is separated from those organs it can act no longer, and consequently shall exist no more, action and subsistence being convertible; this is to take that for granted which is in controversy, namely, that the soul cannot act without the organs of the body, when it is separated from the same; since it operates sometimes more perfectly when 'tis freest from the senses, as in Ecstasies, burning Fevers, in the night time, and in old age.  
The Fifth said, As in Architecture the principal piece of a building is the Foundation; so the most necessary of a Science, is to lay good Principles; without which first established, all our Sciences are but conjectures, and our knowledge but opinion. Now in order to judge whether the souls immortality be demonstrable by natural reasons, 'tis to be enquired whether we can find the principles of this truth, whose terms being known may be naturally clear and granted by all. The most ordinary are these. 1. Every thing which is spiritual is incorruptible. 2. That which is material is mortal. 3. That which is immaterial is immortal. 4. That which God will preserve eternally is immortal. 5. A thing acts inasmuch as it exists; and some other principles, by which this so important verity seems but ill supported. For, the first is not absolutely true, since habits of grace, and natural habits, which are spiritual, are annihilated and corrupted, those by sin, these by intermission of the actions which produced them. Then for the second, 'tis notoriously false, since not only the forms of the Elements which are material, and the Elements themselves considered according to their whole extent, but also the first matter, are incorruptible and eternal; and according to the opinion of many Doctors of the Church 'tis not an article of faith that the Angels are incorporeal, although it be de fide that they are immortal; to say nothing of igneous, aerious demons, and other corporeal genii of the Platonists. As for the third, the actions of the understanding and the will are immaterial, and nevertheless perish as soon as they are conceived; and the intentional species are not incorruptible, though not composed either of matter or form: on the contrary, the Heavens which are so composed, are yet incorruptible. Whereby it appears that immortality depends on something else. As for the fourth, 'tis as difficult to prove that God will eternally preserve reasonable souls, as that they are immortal. And for the last, 'tis certain that many things act above their reach and the condition of their nature; since that which exists not, as the end, nevertheless acts by exciting the efficient cause; motion begets heat which itself hath not; and light, a corporeal quality, is moved in an instant which is the property of incorporeal substances; as also the Sun, which is inanimate, produces animals more excellent than itself. Whereby it appears that the Principle which saith, that the essence of every thing is discovered by its operations, is not universally true, no more than all the rest, which are proposed without explication and before defining the terms under which they are comprised. For as 'twere ridiculous in a Geometrician to require any one to grant to him that a right line may be drawn from a point given to another point, and a circle described from any centre at any distance whatsoever, or to receive for a principle that all right angles are equal; unless he have beforehand explicated what he means by these terms of point, line, centre, circle, right angle and distance. So they are ridiculous who propose it for a principle, that every spiritual or immaterial thing is incorruptible and immortal, before having defined (as they cannot do) what is spiritual, immaterial and immortal. Yea, should these principles be granted to them, 'twould lie upon them to show by natural reasons that the rational soul is spiritual, immaterial, independent on the body in essence, and not to suppose these things as true. And though it were granted them (which is very questionable) that the actions of men are of a higher degree than those of brutes, it would not follow from thence, that the reasonable soul is immortal and wholly abstracted from matter, but only that 'tis of a superior and more sublime order; as the fancy is a corporeal power as well as the sight, though its actions are much more excellent in comparison of this external sense, than the actions of the reasonable soul are in respect of the fancy which yields not much to it in its manner of acting. And yet they who write of the immortality of the soul, take this for a ground, and prove it by handsome congruities and probabilities, but do not demonstrate it, because 'tis a truth which though most certain is withal very obscure, and may indeed be comprehended by faith which hath revealed it to us, but is too remote from our senses to be demonstrated by natural and sensible reasons.   

II. Whether Travel be necessary to an ingenuous man.  
Upon the second Point 'twas said, That man is naturally as much delighted with motion, as he is an enemy to rest: Because Being, which he most desires, consists in action, which is a motion; whereas rest is the cessation of actions, and consequently an enemy of Being. 'Tis no wonder then that men are so desirous to travel, which is a sort of motion, since they are lead thereunto not only by the principles of their Being, which they have common with other animals (amongst which the most disciplined, as Elephants, Storks, Cranes, Swallows and Bees, change their climate from time to time) but also by the reason of their end and supreme good which they find in travels. For since man's felicity in this life consists in knowledge, as appears by the desire every one hath to know and to appear knowing; and since the sight alone supplies more notions to the understanding then all the senses together, which were all given to man in order to knowledge; there is no more sure means of acquiring this supreme good then by furnishing the sight continually with various species, as travels do, wherein new objects always occur, which recreate the mind as much as like things disgust those that stir not from the same place; the understanding, like a consuming fire, languishing when it wants new objects for its food. Hence the sight of the same place wearies us, and the Civilians reckon it the first degree of servitude, to hinder one's neighbour the sight of one's house. Indeed the soul is a perpetual motion; as the heavenly intelligences are never in the same place; but the earth, the most worthless element, remaining unmoveable is the emblem of souls, like plants, fastened to the same spot of ground where they took birth. Wherein they seem to derogate from the advantage attributed by the Stoics to man, when they say that he is a Citizen of the world; whence Seneca saith, Epist. 28. I was not born to abide in one corner of the earth, the whole world is my Country. The holy Scripture calls man's life a Pilgrimage, whereas he who stirs not from one place sets up his habitation in it, whom he ought to seek elsewhere. God would not have so much recommended strangers and travellers, in the old Law, which he not only forbids to use ill, but also enjoins to love as one's self. Exod. 22. 21. Levit. 19 33. Nor would the Church have reckoned the entertaining of Pilgrims and travellers among works of mercy, but only the more to animate men to this honest and holy exercise. Wherefore not only, with Pythagoras, Travellers are in the guard of some God, and amongst the most barbarous Nations under the public faith and protection; but also all Pagan Antiquity put them in the safeguard of Jupiter the greatest of their Gods, whom they call Hospitable.  
The Second said, That travels are necessary, either because they improve our knowledge or our virtues. But both these are very rare. Man's life is short, objects of knowledge are many; and we must rely upon the unanimous testimony of others for many things. And if men became more virtuous by frequenting with sundry Nations; then the ancient Hermits took a wrong course in hiding themselves in Deserts and Cloisters, to find virtue there. For as for moral Prudence, motion and change of place is wholly contrary to it, as rest is the cause of it, and the cube was sometimes the Hieroglyphic of it. Moreover, since the inclinations follow the temper (which is also diversified by various climates) they who never stay in one Country, but continually change climates, acquire habits and manners, become inconstant, flitting and imprudent: were they not obliged to live after the fashion of the Country they reside in, at Rome as they do at Rome; and because our nature is more inclinable to evil then to good, they suffer themselves more easily to be carried to vice then to virtue, of which they meet but few examples: Which moved Lycurgus to forbid his Citizens to travel or retain strangers above 24 hours in their City, for fear the contagion of vice should come to corrupt the good manners of the Lacedæmonians, as happened a long time after, when forgetting his precepts they gave entrance to barbarians, and other Nations, who infected and corrupted their City. And the Laws deny strangers the power of making wills and bequests, and such other privileges, which they seem also to have renounced, by separating themselves from the community of their Countrymen. Yea, if we believe the Philosopher they are no longer men being separated from humane society, as a part separated from the body is no longer a part of it. And the ingratitude of these wanderers to their own Country is justly punishable, since they frustrate it of those services which they are obliged by right of their birth to pay to it: but in requital for the same they have a Proverb against them, That a rolling stone gathers no moss, they little improve their fortunes.  
The Third said, Every Nation produces not every thing; and all climates have inhabitants excelling in some particulars. Since therefore there's no such learning as by examples, and travels afford the most, it follows that it's necessary for an ingenuous man to survey foreign manners, institutions, customs, laws, religions, and such other things upon which moral prudence is superstructed. Whence Homer calls his wise Ulysses, the Traveller, and Visitor of Cities. Moreover, 'twas practised in all ages not only by our ancient Nobility under the name of Knights errand, but also by the greatest personages of antiquity, Pythagoras, Socrates, Plato, Pliny, Hypocrates: and we owe to the Voyages of Columbus, Vesputius, Magellane, and some others, the discovery of America, and other new Lands formerly unknown; and abundance of Drugs and Medicaments, especially Gold and Silver, before so rare; not to mention the commodities of commerce which cannot be had without Voyages.  
The Fourth said, That for seven vagabond errand Stars all the rest of the firmament are fixed and stable, sending no malignant influence upon the earth as the Planets do. And the Scripture represents Satan to us as a Traveller, when he answers God in Job to the question whence he came, I come from going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it.  
The Fifth said, We must distinguish persons, places, times, and other circumstances pertaining to voyages. For if you except Embassies, in which the good of the State drowns all other considerations, those that would travel must be young and strong, rich, and well born, to get any good by their travels; otherwise they will be but like sick persons who receive no ease, but rather inconvenience, by tumbling and stirring; the injudicious and imprudent returning commonly worse than they went, because they distract their minds here and there. Of which one troubled with the same disease of travelling, ask Socrates the reason, he answered him that 'twas because he did not leave himself behind when he changed place, and that he ought to change his mind and not the air in order to become wise; it being impossible but he that is a fool in one Country, can become wise by passing Seas and running from one Province to another. As for places, 'tis certain, that before the voyages of Italy, and some other climates, the disease of Naples and other worse things were not only not so much as heard; but most contagious diseases have by this means been transferred into the remotest Countries. So that if ever it were reasonable for a man to be wise at another's cost, 'tis in the matter of travels; in which those that have performed most, commonly bring home no other fruit but a troublesome talkativeness, wherewith they tyre people's ears, and a sad remembrance of what they have suffered.    

CONFERENCE LXXXVIII.  
I. Which is the best sect of Philosophers. II. Whence comes the diversity of proper names.  

I. Which is the best Sect of Philosophers.  
ONe of the greatest signs of the defects of the humane mind, is that he seldom accomplishes his designs, and often mistakes false for true. Hence ariseth the incertainty and variety in his judgements. For as there is but one strait line from one point to another, so if our judgements were certain they would be always alike, because Truth is one, and conformable to itself; whereas, on the contrary, Error is always various. This variety is of two sorts, one of the thing, the other of the way to attain it. For men were no sooner secured from the injuries of the air, and provided for the most urgent necessities of the body, but they divided themselves into two bands. Some following outward sense contented themselves with the present. Others would seek the causes of effects which they admired, that is to say, Philosophise. But in this inquisition they became of different judgements; some conceiving the truth already found, others thinking it could never be found, and others labouring in search of it, who seem to have most right to the name of Philosophers. The diversity of the way to arrive to this truth is no less. For according as any one was prone to vice or virtue, humility or pride (the probable cause of diversity of Sects) he established one suitable to his own inclination, to judge well of which, a man must be of no party, or, at least, must love the interest of truth most of all. But the question is, which is Truth; no doubt that which comes nearest the Judge's sentiment, and has gained his favour, as Venus did the good will of Paris. And because the goodness of a thing consists in its sutableness, the contemplative man will judge Plato's Philosophy better than that of Socrates, which one delighted with action and the exercise of virtues will prefer before all others; the indifferent will give the preeminence to that of the Peripatetics who have conjoined contemplation with action. And yet, speaking absolutely, 'tis impossible to resolve which is the best of all. For as we cannot know which is the greatest of two lines but by comparing them to some known magnitude; So neither can we judge which is the best Sect of Philosophers, unless it be agreed wherein the goodness of Philosophy considered absolutely consists. Now 'tis hard to know what this goodness is, unless we will say 'tis God himself, who as he is the measure of all beings, so he is the rule of their goodness. So that the best Philosophy will be that which comes nearest that Supreme Goodness, as Christian Philosophy doth, which consists in the knowledge of one's self and the solid practice of virtues, which also was that of S. Paul who desired to nothing but Jesus, and him crucified; which he calls the highest wisdom, although it appear folly in the eyes of men.  
The Second said, That the first and ancientest Philosophy is that of the Hebrews, called Cabala, which they divided into that of Names or Schemot, and of things called by them Sephiroth. Whose excellency Josephus, against Appion, proves, because all other Philosophies have had Sects, but this always remained the same, and would lose its name if it were not transmitted from Father to Son in its integrity. 'Twas from this Cabala that Pythagoras, and Plato surnamed Moses Atticus, took their Philosophy, which they brought into Greece; as 'twas from the Indian brahmin's and Gymnosophists that Pythagoras took his Metempsychosis and abstinence from women and animals; and learned weights and measures formerly unknown in Greece. Some of these Indian Philosophers use to stand upon one foot all day beholding the Sun, and had so great respect for every thing endued with a soul, that they bought birds and other animals, and if any were sick kept them in hospitals till they were cured, and then set them free. The Persians likewise had their Magis, the Egyptians their Priests, the Chaldeans and Babylonians their Astrologers and soothsayers; the Gauls their Druids and Bards. But the Greeks had more plenty and variety than any. Their ancientest Philosophy was that of Musaeus, Linus, Orpheus, Hesiod, Homer, who covered the Science of natural and supernatural things under the veil of Poetry and Fiction, till the time of Pherecydes, the master of Pythagoras, who first writ the same in Prose. Their Philosophers may be distinguished according to the diversity of subjects whereof they treat, whence they who amuz'd themselves about ratiocination were named Logicians, the first of whom was Zeno. They who contemplated Nature, Naturalists, the first of whom was Thales; they who soared to supernatural speculations, Metaphysitians, wherein Aristotle excelled; those who regulated manners, Moralists, of whom Socrates was the principal, who was the son of a Sculptor and a Midwise. But their principal division is of their different Sects, which, though in great number, may be reduced to these following I. The Academic, so called of the place where 'twas taught, so famous, that all places destinated to instruction in Liberal Sciences retain the same name at this day. 'Twas divided into three, namely, the old Academy, whereof Socrates and Plato were authors; the middle, which owed its institution to Archesilaus', author of the famous Epoch, or suspension of judgement concerning all things, whom for that reason Tertullian calls Master of Ignorance; and the new founded by Carneades and Lacides, who held that there is something true, but 'twas incomprehensible, which was almost the same Sect with the Sceptics and Pyrrhoneans. II. The Cyrenaic introduced by Aristippus the Cyrenian, disciple of Socrates, who first took money for teaching others, and held it as one of his principal maxims, not to refuse any pleasure which presented itself to him, yet not to seek it. III. The Magarian, established by Euclides of Magara, which proceeded by interrogations. IV. The Cynic, founded by Antisthenes, Master to Diogenes, and Menippus. V. The Stoic, whereof Zeno Cyttiensis, Auditor of Crates the Cynic, was author. VI The Epicurean, of Epicurus the Athenian, who conceived that every thing was made by chance, and that the chief good consisted in pleasure, some say of the body, others of the mind. VII. The Peripatetic, instituted by Aristotle. 'Twould be endless to relate the extravagances of all particular persons. But I conceive that of the Cynics was the most dishonest; that of the Stoics, most majestical; that of the Epicureans, most unblamable; that of Aristotle, most honourable; that of the Academics most safe; that of the Pyrrhoneans or Sceptics the most easy. For as 'tis not very creditable; so nothing is easier when any thing is asked of us then to say that we are incertain of it, instead of answering with certainty, or else to say that we know nothing of it; since to know our ignorance of a thing is not to be wholly ignorant of it.  
The Third said, That the Sect of the Sceptics had more followers than any other, (doubters being incomparably more numerous than Doctors) and is the more likely to be true. For compare a Gorgias Leontinus, or other Sophister of old time, or one of the most versed in Philosophy in this age, who glory of knowing all, and of resolving all questions propounded, with a Pyrrhonean; the first will torture his wit into a thousand postures, to feigen and persuade to the hearers what himself knows not, and by distinctions cast dust in their eyes, as the Cuttlefish vomits Ink to soil the water when it finds itself caught. On the contrary, the Sceptic will freely confess the debt, and whether you convince him or not, will always show that he has reason to doubt. Nevertheless, though this Sect be the easiest, 'tis not in every thing the truest. For as 'tis temerity and intolerable arrogance to pronounce sentence confidently upon things which are hid to us, and whereof we have not any certain knowledge, as the quadrature of the circle, the duplication of the cube, the perpetual motion, the Philosopher's Stone; so 'tis too gross stupidity to doubt of the existence of things, to judge whereof we need no other help but perfect senses; as that it is this day when the Sun shines, that the fire burns, and that the whole is greater than its parts.  
The Fourth said, That Philosophy being the desire of Wisdom, or rather Wisdom itself, which is nothing else but a store of all the virtues Intellectual and Moral; that is the perfectest Philosophy which renders those addicted to it, most sure in their knowledge, and inclined to virtue. And because there was never sect but had some defect, neither in the theory or the practice, the best of all is not to be any, but to imitate the Bee, and gather what is good of each sort, without espousing it; which was the way of Potamon of Alexandria, who, as Diogenes Laertius records, founded a Sect called Elective, which allowed every one to choose what was best in all Philosophies. 'Tis also the way that Aristotle held in all his Philosophy, especially, in his Physics and Politics, which are nothing but a collection of opinions of the Ancients; amongst whom he hath often taken whole pages out of Hypocrates, though he name him not. Nor are we more obliged to embrace Aristotle's Philosophy than he did that of his Predecessors; it being free for us to frame one out of his precepts, those of Raimond Lul, Ramus, and all others.  
The Fifth said, That amongst all sects the most excellent, as also the most severe, is that of the Stoics, whom Seneca ranks as much above other Philosophers, as men above women. Their manner of discoursing and arguing was so exquisite, that if the Gods, said one, would reason with men, they would make use of the Logic of Chrysippus the Stoic. Their Physics treated partly of bodies, partly of incorporeal Being's, Bodies, according to them, are either principles or elements, which are ours. Their principles are two, God and Matter, which are the same with the Unity and Binary of Pythagoras, the fire and water of Thales. They call God the cause and reason of all things, and say that he is fire, not the common and elementary, but that which gives all things their being, life, and motion. And they believed that there is one God supremely good, bountiful and provident, but that he is single in his essence; herein following Pythagoras, who said that God is not so much one as Unity itself. Seneca saith, that he is all that thou seest, all entire in every part of the world which he sustains by his power. Briefly, they conclude their natural knowledge of God as the sovereign cause, by his Providence, by Destiny, which he hath established in all things, and by the Genii, Heroes and Lares, whom they constitute Angels and Ministers of this Supreme Providence. The Second Principle, Matter, they make coeternal to God, grounding their doctrine upon the Maxim of Democritus, that as nothing can be annihilated, so nothing can be made of nothing. Which was likewise the error of Aristotle, who is more intricate than the Stoics, in his explication of the first matter, which he desines to be almost nothing. True it is, they believed that every thing really existent was corporeal, and that there were but four things incorporeal, Time, Place, Vacuum, and the Accident of some thing; whence it follows, that not only Souls, and God himself, but also the Passions, Virtues, and Vices, are Bodies; yea Animals, since according to their supposition the mind of man is a living animal, inasmuch as 'tis the cause that we are such; but Virtues and Vices, say they, are nothing else but the mind so disposed. But because knowledge of sublime things is commonly more pleasant than profitable, and that, according to them, Philosophy is the Physic of the Soul, they study chiefly to eradicate their Vices and Passions. Nor do they call any wise but him that is free from all fear, hope, love, hatred, and such other passions, which they term the diseases of the Soul. Moreover, 'twas their Maxim, that Virtue was sufficient to Happiness, that it consisted in things not in words, that the sage is absolute master not only of his own will, but also of all men; that the supreme good consisted in living according to nature, and such other conclusions, to which being modified by faith, I willingly subscribe, although Paradoxes to the vulgar.   

II. Whence comes the diversity of proper names.  
Upon the Second Point 'twas said, That a name is an artificial voice representing a thing by humane institution, who being unable to conceive all things at once, distinguish the same by their differences either specifical or individual; the former by appellative names, and the other by proper, as those of Cities, Rivers, Mountains, and particularly those of men, who also give the like to Horses, Dogs, and other domestic creatures. Now since conceptions of the Mind, which represent things, have affinity with them, and words with conceptions, it follows that words have also affinity with things, by the Maxim of Agreement in the same third. Therefore, the wise, to whom alone it belongs to assign names, have made them most conformable to the nature of things. For example, when we pronounce the word Nous, we make an attraction inwards. On the contrary, in pronouncing Vous, we make an expulsion outwards. The same holds in the voices of Animals, and those arising from the sounds of inanimate things. But 'tis particularly observed, that proper names have been tokens of good or bad success arriving to the bearers of them, whence arose the reasoning of the Nominal Philosophers, and the Art of Divination, by names called Onomatomancy; and whence Socrates advises Fathers to give their Children good names, whereby they may be excited to Virtue; and the Athenians forbade their slaves to take the names of Harmodius and Aristogiton, whom they had in reverence. Lawyers enjoin heed to be taken to the name of the accused, in whom 'tis capital to disguise it; and Catholics affect those of the Law of Grace, as Sectaries do those of the old Law, the originals whereof were taken from circumstances of the Body; as from its colour the Romans took those of Albus, Niger, Nigidius, Fulvius, Ruffus, Flavius; we, those of white, black, grey, red-man, etc. from its habit, Crassus, Macer, Macrinus, Longus, Longinus, Curtius; we, le Gros, long, tall, &c, From its other accidents, the Latins took Caesar, Claudius, Cocles, Varus, Naso; we, le Gouteux, (gouty,) le Camus, (flat-nosed,) from Virtues or Vices, Tranquillus, Severus; we, hardy, bold, sharp; from Profession, Parson, Serjeant, Marshal, and infinite others. But chiefly, the names of places have been much affected even to this day, even since the taking of the name of the family for a surname. And if we cannot find the reason of all names and surnames, 'tis because of the confusion of languages, and alteration happening therein upon frequent occasions.  
The Fourth said, That the cause of names is casual, at least in most things, as appears by equivocal words, and the common observation of worthless persons, bearing the most glorious names; as amongst us, a family whose males are the tallest in France, bears the name of Petit. Nor can there be any affinity between a thing and a word, either pronounced or written; and the Rabbins endeavour to find in Hebrew names, (which, if any, must be capable of this correspondence, in regard of Adam's great knowledge, who imposed them) is no less an extravagance then that of matters of Anagrams. In brief, if Nero signified an execrable Tyrant, why was he so good an Emperor the first five years? And of that name import any token of a good Prince, why was he so execrable in all the rest of his life?    

CONFERENCE LXXXIX.  
I. Of Genii. II. Whether the Suicide of the Pagans be justifiable.  

I. Of Genii.  
PLato held three sorts of reasonable natures; the Gods in Heaven, Men on Earth, and a third middle nature between those two, whose mansion is from the sphere of the Moon to the Earth; he calls them Genii, from their being the causes of Generations here below, and Daemons from their great knowledge. These Genii, whom his followers accounted to be subtle bodies, and the instruments of Divine Providence, are, according to them, of three sorts, Igneous, Aereous, and Aqueous; the first excite to contemplation, the second to action, the third to pleasure. And 'twas the belief of all Antiquity, that every person had two Genii; one good, which excited to honesty and virtue, (as the good Genius of Socrates) whom they reckoned in order of the Igneous; and the other bad, who incited to evil, such as that was which appeared to Brutus, and told him he should see him at Philippi. Yet none can perceive the assistance of their Genius, but only such whose Souls are calm and free from passions and perturbations of life. Whence Avicenna saith, that only Prophets and other holy Personages have found their aid, in reference to the knowledge of future things, and government of life. For my part, I think these Genii are nothing else but our reasonable souls, whose intellectual and superior part, which inclines us to honest good, and to virtue, is the good Genius; and the sensitive inferior part which aims only to sensible and delightful good, is the evil genius which incessantly solicits us to evil. Or if the Genii be any thing without us, they are no other than our good and evil Angels, constituted, the former to guard us, the second to make us stand upon our guard. Moreover, 'twas expedient that since inferior bodies receive their motion from the superior, so spiritual substances inherent in bodies should be assisted in their operations by superior spirits free from matter; as 'tis an ordinary thing in Nature for the more perfect to give law to such as are less in the same kind. And not only men, but also all other parts of the world, have Angels deputed to their conservation; tutelary Angels being nothing but the organs of Divine Providence, which embraces all things.  
The Second said, That the Genii produce in us those effects whereof we know not the cause; every one finding motions in himself to good or evil, proceeding from some external power; yea, otherwise than he had resolved. Simonides was no sooner gone out of a house but it fell upon all the company; and 'tis said, that as Socrates was going in the fields he caused his friends who were gone before him to be recalled, saying, that his familiar spirit forbade him to go that way; which those that would not listen to were all mired, and some torn and hurt by a herd of swine. Two persons, formerly unknown, love at the first sight; allies, not knowing one another, oftimes feel themselves seized with unusual joy; one man is always unfortunate, to another every thing succeeds well; which cannot proceed but from the favour or opposition of some Genii. Hence also some Genii are of greater power than others, and give men such authority over other men that they are respected and feared by them. Such was the Genius of Augustus, in comparison of Mark Antony, and that of J. Caesar against Pompey. But though nothing is more common than the word Genius, yet 'tis not easy to understand the true meaning of it. Plato saith, 'tis the guardian of our lives. Epictetus, the overseer and sentinel of the Soul. The Greeks call it the Mystagogue, or imitator of life, which is our guardian Angel. The Stoics made two sorts; one singular, the Soul of every one; the other universal, the Soul of the world. Varro, as Saint Augustine reports, in his eighth book of the City of God, having divided the immortal Souls which are in the Air, and mortal which are in the Water and Earth, saith, that between the Moon and the middle region of the Air, there are aerious Souls called Heroes, Lares, and Genii, of which an Ancient said, it is as full as the Air is full of flies in Summer; as Pythagoras said, that the Air is full of Souls, which is not dissonant from the Catholic Faith, which holds, that Spirits are infinitely more numerous than corporeal substances; because as celestial bodies are incomparably more excellent and ample then sublunary, so pure Spirits, being the noblest works of God, aught to be in greater number than other creatures. What the Poets say of the Genius which they feign to be the Son of Jupiter and the earth, representing him sometimes in the figure of a serpent (as Virgil does that which appeared to Aenaeas,) sometimes of a horn of plenty, which was principally the representation of the Genius of the Prince, by which his flatterers used to swear, and their sacrificing Wine and Flowers to him, is as mysterious as all the rest.  
The Third said, That the Genius is nothing but the temperament of every thing, which consists in a certain harmonious mixture of the four qualities, and being never altogether alike, but more perfect in some then in others, is the cause of the diversity of actions. The Genius of a place is its temperature, which being seconded with celestial influences, called by some the superior Genii, is the cause of all productions herein. Prepensed crimes proceed from the melancholy humour; the Genius of anger and murders is the bilious humour; that of idleness, and the vices it draws after it, is phlegm; and the Genius of love is the sanguine humour. Whence to follow one's Genius is to follow one's natural inclinations, either to good or to evil.   

II. Whether the Suicide of the Pagans be justifiable.  
Upon the Second Point 'twas said, That evil appears such only by comparison, and he that sees himself threatened with greater evils then that of death, ought not only to attend it without fear, but seek it as the only sovereign medicine of a desperate malady. What then, if death be nothing, as the Pagans believed, and leave nothing after it. For we must distinguish Paganism, and Man considered in his pure state of nature, from Christianity and the state of Grace. In the former, I think Diogenes had reason, when meeting Speusippus languishing with an incurable disease who gave him the good day, he answered, I wish not you the like, since thou sufferest an evil from which thou mayst deliver thyself; as accordingly he did when he returned home. For all that they feared in their Religion after death, was, Not-Being what their Fasti taught them of the state of souls in the other life being so little believed that they reckoned it amongst the Fables of the Poets. Or if they thought they left any thing behind them, 'twas only their renown, of which a courageous man that killed himself had more hope than the soft and effeminate. The same is still the custom of those great Sea Captains, who blow themselves up with Gunpowder to avoid falling into the enemy's hands. Yet there's none but more esteems their resolution, than the demeanour of cowards who yield at mercy. This is the sole means of making great Captains and good Soldiers by their example, to teach them not to fear death, not to hold it, with poltroon Philosophers, the most terrible of terribles. And to judge well of both, compare we the abjectness of a Perseus, a slave led in triumph, with the generosity of a Brutus, or a Cato Vticensis. For 'twere more generous to endure patiently the incommodities of the body, the injuries of an enemy, and the infamy of death, if man had a spirit proof against the strokes of fortune. But he though he may ward himself with his courage, yet he can never surmount all sort of evils; and according to the opinion of the same Philosopher, all fear is not to be rejected. Some evils are so vehement that they cannot be disposed without stupidity, as torments of the body, fire, the wheel, the loss of honour, and the like, which 'tis oftentimes better to abandon then vainly to strive to overcome them. Wherefore, as 'tis weakness to have recourse to death for any pain whatsoever, so 'twas an ignominious cowardice amongst the Pagans to live only for grief.  
The Second said, That nature having given all individuals a particular instinct for self-preservation, their design is unnatural who commit homicide upon themselves. And if civil intestine wars are worse than foreign, than the most dangerous of all is that which we make to ourselves. Wherefore the ancients, who would have this brutality pass for a virtue, were ridiculous, because acknowledging the tenure of their lives from some Deity, 'twas temerity in them to believe they could dispose thereof to any then the donor, and before he demanded it. In which they were as culpable as a Soldier that should quit his rank without his Captain's leave, or depart from his station where he was placed Sentinel. And did not virtue, which is a habit, require many reiterated acts, which cannot be found in Suicide, since we have but one life to lose; yet this action could not pass for a virtue, since Fortitude appears principally in sufferings and miseries; which to avoid by death is rather cowardice and madness then true courage. Wherefore the Poet justly blames Ajax, for that, after he had overcome Hector, despised fire and flames, yet he could not subdue his own choler, to which he sacrificed himself. And Lucretia much blemished the lustre of her chastity by her own murder; for if she was not consenting to Tarquin's crime, why did she pollute her hands with the blood of an innocent, and for the fault which another had committed; punishments as well as offences being personal. He who kills himself only through weariness of living is ingrateful for the benefits of nature, of which life is the chief: if he be a good man, he wrongs his Country by depriving it of one, and of the services which he owes to it; as he wrongs Justice, if he be a wicked person that hath committed some crime, making himself his own witness, Judge, and Executioner. Therefore the Prince of Poet's places those in hell who killed themselves, and all Laws have established punishments against them, depriving them of sepulture, because, saith Egesippus, he that goes out of the world without his father's leave deserves not to be received into the bosom of his mother, the earth. I conclude therefore, that the ignorant dreads death, the timorous fears it, the fool procures it to himself, and the mad man executes it, but the wise attends it.  
The Third said, That the generous resolution of those great men of antiquity ought rather to have the approbation than the scorn of a reasonable mind; and 'tis proper to low spirits to censure the examples which they cannot imitate. 'Tis not meet, because we are soft, to blame the courage of a Cato, who as he was tearing his own bowels could not forbear laughing even while his soul was upon his lips, for joy of his approaching deliverance; nor the constancy of a Socrates, who to show with what contentedness he received death, conversed with it, and digested what others call its bitterness, without any trouble, the space of forty days. Sextius and Cleanthes the Philosopher followed almost the same course. Only they had the more honour, for that their deaths were purely voluntary. For the will forced by an extrinsical cause, performs nothing above the vulgar who can obey the laws of necessity: but when nothing forces us to die but ourselves, and we have good cause for it, this death is the most gallant and glorious. Nor is it injust, as is pretended, any more than the Laws which suffer a man to cut off his leg for avoiding a Gangrene. Why should not the Jugular Vein be as well at our choice as the Median? For as I transgress not the Laws against Thiefs when I cut my own Purse, nor those against Incendiaries when I burn my own wood; so neither am I within the Laws made against murderers, by depriving myself of life: 'tis my own good which I abandon, the thread which I cut is my own. And what is said, that we are more the publick's then our own, hath no ground but in our pride, which makes us take ourselves for such necessary pieces of the world as not to be dismembered from it without a noble loss to that great body. Besides, were we so useful to the world, yet our own turn must be first served. Let us live then, first for ourselves, if it be expedient; next, for others: but when life becomes worse than death, let us quit it as we do an inconvenient or unbecoming garment. Is it not a sign of generosity to make Gouts, Stones, Aches and all other Plagues of life yield to the stroke of a victorious hand, which alone blow puts an end to more maladies than all the simples of Galen, and the Antidotes of Avicenna.  
The Fourth said, He could not approve the determination of the Stoics, who say that vulgar souls live as long as they can; those of the wise, as long as 'tis fit, departing out of life as we do from the table, or from play when we are weary. That the examples of Priseia who accompanied her husband in death; of Piso, who died to save his children; of Sextus' daughter who killed herself for her father; of Zeno who did as much, to avoid the incommodities of old age (which made it pass for piety at Rome, a long time, to cast decrepit old men headlong from a Bridge into Tiber) are as culpable as he who surrenders a place when he is able to defend it. For whereas Plato exempts such from the punishment against sui-cides who committed it to avoid infamy or intolerable necessity; and what Pliny saith, that nature hath for this end produced so many poisonous Plants for five or six sorts of Corn, that there is but one way to enter into the world, but infinite to go out of it; the imputing it to stupidity not to go out of a prison when one hath the key, adding that 'tis lawful to execute that which 'tis lawful to desire, as S. Paul did his own death; yea the example which is alleged of Samson, of Razias, and of eleven thousand Virgins who precipitated themselves into the sea to save their chastity; in the Church are effects of a particular inspiration, not to be drawn into consequence, and out of it examples of rage and despair disguised with the mask of true fortitude and magnanimity, which consists chiefly in supporting evils, as the precedents of so many religious souls attest to us.    

CONFERENCE XC.  
I. Of Hunting. II. Which is to be preferred, the weeping of Heraclitus, or the laughing of Democritus.  

I. Of Hunting.  
IF the least of goods hath its attractions, 'tis no wonder if Hunting (wherein are comprehended the three sorts of good, honest, profitable, and delightful) have a great interest in our affection; being undoubtely preferable before any other exercise either of body or mind. For Play, womans, Wine, and all the pleasure which Luxury can fancy in superfluity of Clothes, Pictures, Flowers, Medals, and such other passions, not unfitly named diseases of the soul, are divertisements either so shameful, or so weak, that they cannot enter into comparison with hunting, so honest that it hath been always the recreation of great persons, whose martial courage used to be judged of by their inclination to this sport, which Xenophon calls the apprentisage of War, and recommends so much to Cyrus in his Institution, as Julius Pollux doth to the Emperor Commodus. It's profitableness is chiefly discerned in that it renders the body dextrous and active, preserves health, and by inuring it to labour makes a firm constitution, hindering it from being delicate, consumes the superfluous humours, the seeds of most diseases. Lastly, the pleasure of Hunting must needs be great, since it makes the Hunters think light of all their pains and incommodities. The mind has its pleasure in it by hope of the prey in such as hunt for profit, and by the contentment of possessing what they sought: besides the consideration of the subtlety of the Fox and Wolf, the trouble which the Hare gives her displeased pursuers.  
The Second said, 'Tis the only pleasure which does wrong to no person, but delivers Countries from the injuries and depredations of beasts. And though 'tis the most laborious of all pleasures, yet 'tis least followed by repentance, and instead of wearying those that are once addicted to it, makes them love it in excess, for which reason 'tis prohibited to the meaner sort of people. All the Heroes are represented under the form of Hunters; as Perseus who first hunted the wild Goat; Castor who taught the management of the horse, before wild, to chase the Stag; Pollux who first traced beasts with Lime-hounds; Meleager who invented the Spears to assault the Boar; Hippolytus, Toils, Hays, and Nets; Orion, Kennels and Leashes; which were so admired in his age, that the Poets translated him into Heaven, where he makes a glorious sign, as they put Castor and Pollux among the Gods, and feigned a Diana the Goddess of Hunters. Moreover, the holy Scripture gives Nimrod, the first King in the world, no greater title than that of Mighty Hunter. And the good man Isaac would not give his blessing to his son Esau, till after he had brought him of his Venison.  
The Third said, That Man being since the loss of his dominion over the beasts, by his sin, obliged to defend himself against their invasion, this gave rise to hunting, which is consequently as ancient as the world. There are three sorts of it, according to the three sorts of animals which it pursues, in the air, on the earth, and in the waters; namely, Hawking, Hunting properly so called, and Fishing. Hawking is the pursuit of Birds by Birds, and it's of divers kinds according to the diversity of Hawks and quarries. Hunting is the chase of fourfooted beasts, which are either great, as Lions, Bears, Stags, Boars; or small, as Wolves, Foxes, Badgers and Hares. Both the one and the other is performed by Dogs, of which there are good of all sizes and colours, and some peculiar to one sort of Game. Fishing is the venation of Fishes, whereof Plato makes two kinds; one by the Line, and the other by Nets, the more recommendable in that 'twas practised by the Apostles, and our Lord himself, who was figured by the first Christians under the Hieroglyphics of a Fish, with the Greek word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which they explicated thus by the first Letters of that Language, Jesus Christ, God, our Saviour.  
The Fourth said, That Hunting being as various as men's conditions, its variety makes it as agreeable as necessary; gunning, which is the least, instructs the Soldier to shoot exactly, to be patient, and fits him for war, especially the hunting of the Badger, who makes head in his entries, then fights from trench to trench; and at length retreats to his last fort, where he practices all the sleights of war usual in besieged Cities, till he be taken by the undermining of the Pioners. For Pythagoras his prohibition to kill animals, is no less light than his Metempsychosis; or his reason to forbear fishing, or eating of fish, out of respect to their silence. The objection, that God permitted our first Parents to eat the fruits of the earth, not the flesh of animals, and that during two thousand years' none was eaten, concludes nothing from a Negative Authority; and Abel spared not the life of the Lamb of his flock, which he offered to God, than God had done that of the beasts, of whose skins he made Coats for Adam and Eve. And God's prohibition to the Jews to eat any thing taken by a beast, as Dogs or Birds, being abolished together with other ceremonies. Moreover, all animals being made for man, they have no reason to complain, if they be applied to that end, but especially the hunting of mischievous beasts is profitable.   

II. Which is to be preferred, the weeping of Heraclitus, or the laughing of Democritus.  
Upon the second Point 'twas said, That in this Question, to justify weeping, we have the example of our Lord, whom we read not ever to have been seen laughing, not even at the marriage feast whereat he was present; but he lamented the death of Lazarus, though he knew that himself was going to raise him up again. And he compares the entrance into Paradise to the gate of a Judge, which a good woman cannot get open, nor move the Judge to do her justice, but by many complaints and tears: and he pronounceth the house of mourning blessed, saying, that GOD abides there: on the contrary, laughter and rejoicing not only were the forerunners of the Deluge, but at present occasion a thousand offences against God, our Neighbour, and ourselves. Moreover, all the Exhortations and Sermons of Preachers tend only to move tears of contrition; and some observe, in the trial of Witches and Conjurers, that they never weep, which is a certain argument of an ill nature, especially in women and children. And Dido, speaking of the ingrateful Aeneas, more resents his not weeping when he bid her adieu, than all the rest. For we are naturally inclined to weeping, as being the most humid of all animals; and nature seems to have made the brain only for the eyes, which being always moist have also a glandule in the greater corner, called (from its office) Lachrymalis, which is a spongy flesh full of little holes, serving to attract the moisture of the brain which furnishes the matter of tears, and disperses it drop by drop, lest falling too much together, the brain should be left dry, which is a temper contrary to its natural one. Now as for objects without us, 'tis evident there is more cause of weeping then of laughter. For if we look under our feet, there the ground presents itself, which sooner than every one hopes is to bury every on's ambition, and afford him but six foot of earth; if on each side of us, there appear so many miseries, that the Spaniards, who are accustomed thereunto, say proverbially that they who are afflicted with the miseries of others bear the whole world upon their shoulders. If upwards, what a cause of sadness is it to see that so great and vast a Kingdom is at this day in less esteem than the meanest part of this valley of tears, the earth, and to see God dishonoured so many ways. Come we down to ourselves; the infirmities of the body, the afflictions of the mind, all the passions of the soul and the crosses of fortune, have made those that have most tasted the pleasures of this life, acknowledge that it is nothing but thorns and miseries, and with the wise man, nothing but vanity: of which not to speak a word, were to be insensible; to laugh, impiety; and to imitate Aesop's Snails who laughed at their cost. It remains, therefore, that 'tis wisdom to bewail them.  
The Second said, There is a time to weep, and a time to laugh, as the Wiseman testifies; so that to do either continually is equally vicious: Yet laughter being most suitable to man who is defined by the faculty he hath to laugh, and not by that of weeping, which is common to Hearts and Crocodiles, who shed true tears, and other beasts weep after their manner, but none laughs: I conceive that the laughter of Democritus was less unblamable than the weeping of Heraclitus; whose tears rendered him odious and iusupportable to all the world, which, on the contrary, is greatly pleased with the company of laughers, and easily side with them. Moreover, their Jovial and sanguine humour is always to be preferred before the Saturnine and melancholy humour of weepers, who are their own greatest enemies, exhausting their moisture, and by concentration of the spirits hindering the free functions of reason. Whereas laughter which is a sign of joy and contentment dilates the spirits, and causes all the actions of life to be performed better. And the laughter of Democritus exciting the like motion of joy in the spectators; their joy dilated their spirits, and rendered them more docible and capable to receive his counsels.  
The Third said, That as a Physician were no less impertinent in laughing at his Patient, then imprudent in weeping for the malady which he sees him endure: So Democritus and Heraclitus were as ridiculous, the one as the other, in laughing at, or lamenting the misery of men. Moreover, it seems to be a sign of repentance, that he put out his own eyes, and not to Philosophise the better: otherwise he should have done as one that cut off his own legs that he might leap the better; since the eyes are the windows of the soul, whereby it admits almost all its informations. Heraclitus therefore was more excusable; because tears proceed from charity and compassion, but laughter is an effect of contempt, and procures us as much hatred as the other does affection. Besides, Democritus' laughter could neither make others better, nor himself; for what profit can be made by the ironies and gibes of a mocker. On the contrary, tears are so persuasive, that Augustus, as subtle as he was, suffered himself to be deceived by those of Cleopatra, and believed her willing to live when she had resolved to die.  
The Fourth said, That both of them had reason, considering the vanity of the things of the world, which are equally ridiculous and deplorable. For though laughter and weeping seem contraries, yet they may proceed from the same cause. Some Nations have wept at the birth of their children, whereas we make exultations. Many have laughed at Alexander who wept because he had no more worlds to conquer. Xerxes wept when he beheld his goodly Army, of which not one person was to be left after a hundred years, whilst a Philosopher of his train laughed at it. And in both passions there is a retraction of the nerves; whence the features of the countenance of one that laughs are like those of him that weeps. Moreover, the three subjects which may oblige men to laughter, namely, the crosses of furtune, and what they call Virtue and Science, afford equal matter of laughing and weeping. When fortune casts down such as she had advanced to the top of her wheel, are not they as worthy of commiseration as of derision, for having trusted to her inconstancy? When our Gentry cut one another's throats for an ambiguous word, lest they should seem cowards, are they not as deplorable as ridiculous, in taking the shadow of virtue for itself? And as for Science, should these two Philosophers come from the dead, and behold our youth spend ten years in learning to speak, and all our Philosophy reduced to a bundle of obscure distinctions, would not they die once more with equal reason, the one with weeping, and the other with laughing?    

CONFERENCE XCI.  
I. Whether heat or cold be more tolerable. II. Who are most happy in this World, Wise Men or Fools.  

I. Whether heat or cold be more tolerable.  
COmparison moves us more than any other thing. And though no sense be less fallacious than the Touch, yet 'tis guided by comparison as well as the rest. Thus Caves seem cold in the Summer, because we come out of the hot air; and hot in Winter, because the same air which we forsake is cold, the Cave remaining always in the same temper, without recurring to those Antiperistases which have no foundation in the thing; the organs of the Touch being the sole competent judges of the several degrees of tangible qualities; the first of which are heat and cold, provided those Organs be neither too obtuse, as in the Paralytical, nor too exquisite as when the nerve lies naked. 'Tis requisite also that the man who judges be in health, for he that has an Ague thinks nothing too cold in his hot fit, and nothing too hot or so much as temperate during the cold fit; so the phlegmatic and melancholy bear heat better than cold, the bilious and sanguine the latter better than the former, as correcting the excess of their own temper. Now at first sight heat seems more supportable, because more congruous to life, which consists in heat (by which Galen defines the soul) as death in its contrary, cold. Moreover nature hath made the hot Climates more large and capacious than the cold, which are two very straight ones, although she hath supplied those Regions with the remedy of Furs: all the rest of the world is either hot or temperate, and always more hot than cold. Nevertheless, I conclude for cold, because heat joined to our heat renders it excessive, whereas cold being encountered by it, there results a temperate third. Besides, the opposition of cold redoubles the natural heat; whence we have greater appetite in Winter then in Summer, sleep longer, and perform all natural functions better, and are more cheerful in mind: whereas in Summer our bodies and minds are languid, and less capable of labour; and 'tis more dangerous, in reference to health, to cool ourselves in Summer then to heat ourselves in in Winter; the first occasioning, the latter preventing most diseases.  
The Second said, That cold being an enemy to nature, it excess must be more hurtful, and consequently more insupportable than that of heat, particularly that of the Sun. For this grand Luminary, the soul of the Universe, and whose heat is the cause of all generations, must also be that of their preservation not of their destruction. Whence the excess of his heat is much more tolerable than that of cold. Moreover, hot Countries are more fertile, and the Scripture teaches us that the first Colonies came from the South: Yea, some Doctor's place the Terrestrial Paradise under the Aequinoctial: whence it follows that hot Regions having been first inhabited, have also been most habitable: even the Torrid Zone, thought unhabitable by all antiquity, experience hath found very populous; whereas the cold are but very little habitable, and not at all, beyond the 78 degree.  
The Third said, That the heat which preserves our lives is natural, gentle, and agreeable, not extraneous, as that meant in the question is. Therefore external cold must be compared with heat, likewise external and extraneous, not with the vital heat, which is of a more sublime order then these elementary qualities. Now 'tis certain external heat is more powerful and active then external cold, since it consumes and dissolves Metals, which could cannot, and is more hurtful because it dries up humidity which is the foundation of life. 'Tis also less tolerable; for we can bear the touch of the coldest body in the world, namely Ice, yea eat it without harm; but none could ever resist flames. Whence fire is the cruelest of punishments, not cold, from which, besides, we may more easily defend ourselves then from excessive heat, which may be abated a little by winds, shadows, or other artifices, but not wholly, as cold is by help of fire, clothes, and motion.  
The Fourth said, If it be true which Cardan saith, that cold is nothing but a privation of heat, Nature, which dreads nothing so much as nonentity, must abhor it most; nor can it be any way active, since that which exists not cannot act. But I will suppose, as 'tis most probable, that both the one and the other are positive entities, since cold enters into the composition of bodies as well as heat, the bones, membranes, skin, nerves, and all but the fleshy parts, being cold, as also the brain, the noblest part of man. And I conceive that heat and cold, considered either as internal principles of a living body, or as two external agents, enemies of life, cold is always more hurtful than heat. On the one side hot distempers alter the functions, but cold abolish them, depriving us of sense, motion and life, as in the Lethargy, Apoplexy, Epilepsy, and other cold diseases. And on the other, external heat indeed draws forth part of our spirits, and thereby weakens us, whence come faintings after too hot a bath, or too great a fire: but it never wholly quenches and destroys them; as the light of the Sun drowns that of a Candle at noon, but does not extinguish it.  
The Fifth said, Because, as Hypocrates saith, in his Aphorisms, some natures are best in Winter, others in Summer; as old men are not much inconvenienced by the most vehement heats, whereas cold kills them; on the contrary, young people of hot tempers endure heat more impatiently then cold; and there is no temperament ad pondus or exact; Reason must be called to the aid of our senses, not only to judge of moist and dry, as Galen thinks, but also of hot and cold: which being absolutely considered in their own nature, without respect to us, I conceive heat much more active than cold, and consequently, less supportable: because the more a thing hath of form, and less of matter, 'tis the more active; the one of these principles being purely active, and the cause of all natural actions, the other simply passive. Thus the earth and water are dull and heavy elements, in comparison of the air and fire, which are less dense and material: Heaven, the universal cause of all sublunary things, is a form without matter, as Averroës' affirms. Now heat rarefies and dilates its subject, and seems to make it more spiritual, and so is more active than cold, which condenses and stops all the pores and passages. Which also appears, in that the hottest diseases are the most acute; and if cold diseases kill sometimes, they charm and dull the senses, and so render death more gentle and supportable. On the contrary, the cruelest deaths, great pains, and the most violent diseases, are ordinarily caused by some hot humour. Hence it is that no person dies without a Fever; and Hypocrates affirms that the same heat which generates us kills us. In fine, God, who is the prime Reason, hath judged heat more active, and less supportable than cold, since he appoints fire to torment the devils and damned souls.   

II. Who are most happy in this world, Wise Men or Fools.  
Upon the second Point 'twas said, As there is but one right line, and infinite crooked, so there is but one wisdom, and one way to attain it, namely, to follow right reason; but follies are of all sorts, and of as many fashions as there are different minds which conceive things under divers apparences of goodness. So that the number of fools being greater than that of wise, men, these will always lose their cause. Moreover, if happiness be well defined by contentment, who is there but accounts fools more happy than the wise? Witness he, who otherwise intelligent enough, was a fool in this only point, that he would diligently repair alone to the Theatre, and fancy that he saw and heard the Actors, and applauded them, although no body was there besides himself: but being cured of his folly, he complained of his friends in stead of thanking them, for having been too careful to render him miserable, being a happy man before. Besides, folly hath this privilege, that we bear with that truth from the mouth of a fool which would be odious in another: and the tribe of fools is indeed exceeding great, since we are born such; for a child is agreeable upon no other account but its simplicity, which is nothing else but folly; by which many faults are excusable in youth, which are not to be endured in other ages. And those whom we account happiest, and that die of old age, end thus; and are therefore called twice children; and folly serves to take away the sense of all the discontents and incommodities of old age. Yea he that more nearly considers the course of our life will find more of folly in it then of wisdom. For if self-conceit, play, love, and the other passions, be so many follies, who is free from it?  
The Second said, That wise men alone are happy, is justly accounted a Stoical Paradox, since 'tis contrary to true natural sentiments, which show us that the happiness of this life consists only in two points, namely, in the privation of grief, and the possession of good. As for the first, not to speak of bodily pains, from which the wise are no more exempt than fools, the strongest minds are more intelligent by their more vigorous reasoning, and (consequently) more susceptible of inward grief and affliction, of hope, fear, desire, and as other passions; besides that they are ordinary of a melancholy temper, and more fixed upon their objects then fools, who are more inconstant: to say nothing of the scruples of conscience, which many times rack their spirits, of the points of honour, of civilities, nor of the knotty questions in the Sciences. As for the latter, the possession of good, fools have a better share than the wise, because there is no absolute, but only relative, good in this world; whence proceeded the many different opinions touching the chief good, and the saying, that none is truly happy unless he thinks himself so. And therefore there are more fools then wise happy. For the latter discerning the meaness and vanity of the goods of the world, account it no happiness to possess them, but strain their wits to find others more solid, which they will never find in this world: whereas the former live contented and happy in the quiet enjoyment of their present goods, beyond which they wish no others. Moreover, our happiness and contentment depends upon ourselves, that is, upon our own imagination, as appears in the Hospitals of fools, who are so far from resenting the horror and misery wherein they really are, that, on the contrary, they flatter themselves with their agreeable fancies of being Kings, Emperors, and very gods; from which they take more pleasure than they give to others. As also in that Athenian, who imagining all the ships in the Piraean Haven to be his, rejoiced for their return, and sued his friends at Law for curing him of this agreeable folly. In fine, according to the mere sentiments of nature, the people of the world addicting themselves to all sorts of pleasures, are more happy than those who deny the same to themselves, in obedience to the counsels of the Gospel; and yet in the judgement of God, who is the rule of true wisdom, these are wise, and the other fools. Lastly, the Law is favourable to fools in the perpetration of great crimes, their defect of will being their security. For which reason we call them Innocents'.  
The Third said, This Question is the harder to be determined, because there is no judge but is a party. But if we refer ourselves to the wise, as it belongs to them to determine things, they will judge it to their own advantage. And indeed, to place felicity of the mind in the total alienation of the mind, or in the several degrees of the same, is no less preposterous than to place the pleasure of the body in pain or diseases. For man's felicity or chief good consists not in opinion; otherwise it were not true, but only imaginary, and so man alone, amongst all the creatures, could not be truly happy. But this beatitude of man consists in his end; this end is his action; the action of man, as man, is that which renders him like to God by contemplation and virtue, the two most perfect operations of the understanding and the will, proceeding from principles to conclusions in the theory, and from the means to the end in the practice of moral virtues, which are not without prudence and reason, because they consist in mediocrity, which cannot be understood but by the comparison of the two extremes; which is an action of the understanding. Since therefore folly is a Laesion of the rational faculty, whether this Reason be abolished, depraved or diminished (which are the several degrees of folly) fools cannot be happy, because they cannot live according to right reason: in which the essence of this life's felicity consists. As they are exempt from vices, so they are incapable of virtues. And if it be true, that no man is happy but he that is contented, and that contentment consists in the satisfaction we have in the enjoyment of some good, which gives us rest; fools cannot be happy, since satisfaction of mind proceeds from its reflection upon the excellence or goodness of the thing which we possess. Now reflection is a most perfect act of the Intellect, which returns upon its objects and itself. So that what Civilians say of slaves, that they cannot be happy in this world, because they are not their own, nor counted for any thing, but reputed in the number of the dead; the same may with much more reason be affirmed of fools.    

CONFERENCE XCII.  
I. Which is most healthful, moisture or dryness. II. Which is to be preferred, the contemplative life, or the active.  

I. Which is most healthful, moisture or dryness.  
THe Philosopher Thales had reason in affirming water to be the principle of all things; whether he had learned out of the books of Moses, that in the beginning the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters, and so the water appeared first of the Elements; or else had observed in nature that no sublunary forms can subsist without moisture, which Chemistry teaches us to extract out of the most acid bodies, which neither can subsist without humidity tying and uniting their parts, otherwise likely to fall into dust; as it also serves to all generations, those of Plants and Animals beginning always by humidity, which is the cause why the Sea is more fruitful in Fish (which likewise are more sound) than the earth in its Animals, of less bulk than the Marine. For humidity is the food of their natural heat; it also causes Leaves, Flowers and Fruits, to grow forth in Plants upon the earth, and in the entrails thereof it forms Minerals; the noblest of which are the most ductile and fusible, which is a sign of their abundant humidity, as the driest and most earthy are the worst. The dews of Heaven fertilise the earth, whence God threatens his people to give them a heaven of brass, and an earth of iron; and when he promises great blessings, he saith, he will give dew in abundance, which also was the blessing which Isaac gave his son Esau. The inundation of Nilus fattens the possessions of Egypt. The Spring, the most healthful and agreeable of all Seasons, is moist; Autumn, on the contrary, is the producer of diseases, by reason of its dryness. Pearls are generated in the humidity of the Sea, wherein also Venus was born. Moisture is also the cause of plumpness and beauty, which is never found in a lean face and a dry body; and it hath so great an influence in our nature, that we call a good one a good or pleasing humour. The Moon governs all things by moisture upon which she hath a particular influence; and the Planets are more benign in moist Signs then in dry, amongst which that of Virgo spoils the earth of all its beauties; and of the Planets Mars and Saturn are the destroyers of nature by their dryness. In sine, Humidity renders the Seasons, Winds, Places, Ages more agreeable, and Women more beautiful then Men. As Children, who abound in humidity, are more agreeable than dry old men. And there's no person but had rather live in a climate tempered with humidity, as between 40 and 50 degrees, then in the sands and deserts of Libya, more proper for the generation of Monsters than the habitation of men.  
The Second said, Although dry weather, being the fairest and pleasantest, hath more patrons then moist, yet 'tis more unhealthy. The temperate Zones are pluvious; and that Autumn which is commonly rainey, is yet most unhealthy, this proceeds from the inequality of its temperature, and some other extraneous causes, as the abundance of fruits which fill our bodies with crudities. The Spring, whose temperature is hot and moist, is according to Hypocrates, most healthy, not subject to great diseases, the matter whereof is evacuated by expulsion of the noxious humours. Moreover, humidity revives Plants and Animals, and Man, Nature's perfectest work, abounds most with it; to which cause Cardan refers his greater sagacity. And being life is nothing else but the Prime Humidity, thence thirst comes to be the greatest bodily inconvenience; and diseases caused by a dry intemperature are generally incurable. Rheum is not so dangerous as an Hectic Fever, and experience shows us that land too moist may be rendered fertile, but there's no remedy for the droughts of Africa; humane Art being puzzled to preserve a Garden during those of Summer. Lastly, Physic takes the opportunity of moist weather for purgations, as most convenient for health.  
The Third said, That all the first qualities are active, but heat and moisture more than the other two, whence the air being imbued with humidity altars our bodies more sensibly then when 'tis charged with dry exhalations. For our radical moisture is aerious, oily, and benign, and the extraneous moisture is aqueous, malign and pernicious; a capital enemy to that balsam of life, as extraneous heat is to our vital heat, which is suffocated by abundance of excrements collected by humidity which stops the pores, but dissipated by dryness which opens them. Which made the Prince of Physic say, Aph. 15. Sect. 3. that of the seasons of the year droughts are more healthy, and less fatal, then rainy and moist weather, in which happen long Fevers, Fluxes, Epilepsies, Apoplexies, and divers others putrid maladies. Though 'tis impossible to determine the question absolutely, because 'twould be requisite to consider siccity and humidity separate from other qualities and in their own nature, wherein they are not to be found, being never separated from cold or heat, which render their natures, and (consequently) their effects various.  
The Fourth said, That the pleasure we take in a thing is the surest evidence of the good or hurt it does us. Hence rain is always more grateful to us in droughts, than the contrary. Besides, Death, and old age which leads to it, is nothing but a desiccation; and dry diseases are most perilous, because they are either conjoined with heat which increases them and makes them very acute, or with cold which generates Schirrusses, and other maladies accompanied with obstruction, which are not cured but by humectation. Summer and Autumn are the sickliest and driest seasons of the year, but we are more healthy in Winter and the Spring. And does not the humidity of the night repair the loss caused by the siccity and actions of the day? as in the morning, the most humid part of the day, our minds are more serene than all the rest of the day, whence it was called the friend of the Muses. The Brain, the mansion of the soul and its divinest faculties, is not only most humid, but the seat of humidity; as choler, melancholy, fear, and all other passions common to us with beasts have their seat in the Gall, the Spleen, and the heart, which are dry parts. But although humidity seems more a friend to nature, than siccity, yet the question must be voided by the distinction of temperaments, of which the melancholy and the bilious especially receive very great incommodity from droughts, and benefit from moist seasons, which, on the contrary, much torment the phlegmatic.   

II. Which is to be preferred the contemplative life, or the active.  
Upon the second Point 'twas said, That man being born to live in society and employment, the contemplative life seems incongruous to this end; and our first Parent was placed in the earth to Till it, and eat his bread in the sweat of his countenance, not to live idly, and look about him. Moreover, the end is more noble than the means which tend to it; but we, generally, contemplate only in order to act. In Divinity we consider God's Commandments, in order to perform them; In Mathematics, Lines, Surfaces, Solids, Numbers and Motions, to make use thereof for Fortifications, Carpentry, and the Mechanics; In Natural Philosophy, its Principles and Causes, to refer the same to Medicine; In Law, Right, to apply it to Fact; In Morality, the Virtues, in order to exercise them. Consider what difference there is between the contemplation of an empty brain and solid action, that is to say, between theory and practice; you will find the former only a chimaera, and the other a reality, as excellent and profitable as the first is useless, except to feed the fancy with vain imaginations, and fill the mind with presumption; there being none but thinks himself a greater master than others, before he hath set his hand to the work; and yet 'tis by their works that our Lord tells us we shall know every one, and not by their discourses, which are as much below them as effects and things are more than words.  
The Second said, Contemplation is as much more excellent than action, as the soul is then the body; and to compare them together is to equal the servant with her mistress. For, not to speak of the raptures of an ecstasied soul, nor of eternal bliss, which consisting in contemplation, that of this world must do the like in reference to natural things: Nature alone teaches us that things which are for themselves are more excellent than those which are for others. But the contemplation and knowledge of truth, hath no other end but itself; action, the common uses of life. Whence contemplation less needs external things than action, which requires the help of Riches, Honours, Friends, and a thousand other circumstances, which hinder a contemplative person more than they help him, who therefore delights most in Deserts and Solitudes. Moreover, the end is to be preferred before the means, and the end of active life is to bring us rest, as the military life is in order to establish, and the civil to preserve peace; therefore the rest of the contemplative life being the end of the turbulent active life, it is much more noble than its means. As appears also by its duration, which is greater than that of transient and transitory action; but contemplation is durable and permanent, which is a sign of the Divinity of the Intellect that produces it, infinitely more excellent than all the other inferior powers, the principles of actions. Contemplation being abstracted from matter and earthly things wearies not the body as actions do, which require corporeal organs; and therefore the pleasure of it is most pure and simple, and constant, in regard of its object, those sublime things which wisdom contemplates; whereas that of action is never entire, by reason of the inconstancy of its object, which are political things continually mutable. The contemplative man finds full satisfaction in himself, without going abroad to beg approbation and rewards from men, without which virtues languish and are imperfect. Moreover, the pleasure of contemplation is peculiar to men, and not competent to brutes, who have not only external actions as well as we, as Speaking, Singing, Dancing, Fight, Spinning, Building, and other Works of Art, which we learned from them, for the most part; but they have also virtues, as Chastity, Simplicity, Prudence, Piety. On the contrary, God, as the Philosopher teaches, exercises neither virtues, nor any external actions, but contemplation is his sole employment, and, consequently, the most divine of all, though it were not calm, agreeable, permanent, sufficient, proper to man, and independent of others, which are the tokens of beatitude, and the chief good.  
The Third said, since 'tis true, which Plato saith, that while we are in this world we do nothing but behold, by the favour of a glimmering light, the phantasms and shadows of things, which custom makes us to take for truths and bodies; they who amuse themselves in contemplation, in this life, cannot be said contented, unless after the manner of Tantalus, who could not drink in the midst of the water; because they cannot satisfy that general inclination of nature (who suffers nothing idle in all her precincts) to reduce powers into act, and dead notions into living actions. If they receive any pleasure in the knowledge of some truths, 'tis much less than that which is afforded by action, and the exercise of the moral virtues, of the active life, the more excellent in that they are profitable to many, since the most excellent good is the most communicable. Moreover, all men have given the pre-eminence to civil Prudence and active life, by proposing rewards and honours thereunto; but they have punished the ingratitude and pride of speculative persons, abandoning them to contempt, poverty, and all incommodities of life. And since the Vice which is opposite to active life is worse than ignorance, which is opposed to the contemplative, by the reason of contraries action must be better than contemplation; and the rather, because virtuous action without contemplation is always laudable, and many times meritorious for its simplicity: on the contrary, contemplation without virtuous acts is more criminal and pernicious. In fine, if it be true, that he who withdraws himself from active life, to intend contemplation, is either a god or a beast, as Aristotle saith; 'tis more likely that he is the latter, since man can hardly become like to God.  
The Fourth said, That to separate active life from contemplative is to cut off the stream from the fountain, the fruit from the tree, and the effect from its cause: as likewise, contemplation without the virtues of the active life is impossible: rest and tranquillity, which are not found in vice, being necessary to contemplate and know. Wherefore, as the active life is most necessary during this life, so the contemplative is more noble and divine, if this present life be considered as the end, and not as the means and way to attain to the other life, in which actions not contemplations shall be put to account. Contemplation is the Sun, Action the Moon of this little World, receiving its directions from contemplation, as the Moon of the great World borrows its light from the Sun: the former presides in the day of contemplative life; the second, which is nearer to us, as the Moon is, presides in the darkness of our passions. Both of them represented in Pallas the Goddess of Wisdom and War, being joined together, make the double-fronted Janus, or Hermaphrodite of Plato, square of all sides, composed of Contemplation which is the Male, and Action which is the Female.    

CONFERENCE XCIII.  
I. Of the spots in the Moon and the Sun. II. Whether 'tis best to use severity or gentleness towards our dependants.  

I. Of the spots in the Moon and the Sun.  
THere is nothing perfect in the world, spots being observed in the brightest bodies of Nature. And not to speak of those in the Sun, which seem to proceed from the same cause with those observed in our flame according as 'tis condensed or rarified; we may well give account of those in the Moon, by saying, with the Pythagoreans, and some later excellent Mathematicians, that the Moon is an earthly habitable Globe, as the eminences and inequalities, observed therein by the Telescope, the great communications of the Moon with our earth, depriving one another of the Sun, by the opacity, rotundity and solidty of both; and the cold and moist qualities which it transmits' hither, like those of this terr-aqueous Globe; since the same apparences and illumination of the Earth would be seen from the Heaven of the Moon, if a man were carried thither. And because solid massy bodies, as wood and stone, reflect light most strongly, therefore the brightest parts of the Moon answer the terrestrial dense parts, and the dark the water, which being rarer, and liker the air is also more transparent, and, consequently, less apt to stop and reflect light. This we experience in the prospect of high Mountains very remote, or the points of Rocks in the open Sea, which reflect a light, and have a colour like that of the Moon, when the Sun is still above the Horizon with her: whereas the Sea and great Lakes being less capable of remitting this light, seem dark and like clouds. So that were this Globe of Ocean and Earth seen from far, it would appear illuminated and spotted like the Moon. For the opinion of Plurality of Worlds (which can be no way dangerous of itself, but only in the consequences the weakness of humane wit would draw from it; much less is it contrary to the faith, as some imagine) is rather an argument of God's Omnipotence, and more abundant communication of his goodness in the production of more creatures; whereas his immense goodness seems to be restrained in the creation of but one world, and of but one kind. Nor is it impossible but that, as we see about some Planets, namely, Jupiter and Saturn, some other Stars which move in Epicycles, and in respect of their stations, and those Planets, seem like Moons to them, and are of the same substance: so that which shines to us, here below, may be of the same substance with our earth, and placed as a bound to this elementary Globe.  
The Second said, That the spots of the Sun and Moon cannot be explicated without some Optical presuppositions. And first, 'tis to be known that Vision is performed three ways; directly, by reflection, and by refraction. Direct Vision, which is the most ordinary, is when an object sends its species to the eye by a direct way, that is, when all the points of one and the same object make themselves seen by so many right lines. Reflective Vision is when the species of an object falling upon the surface of an opake body, is remitted back to the sight, as 'tis in our Looking-glasses. Vision by refraction, is, when the species of an object having passed through a medium diaphanous to a certain degree, enters obliquely into another medium more or less diaphanous; for then 'tis broken and continues not its way directly: but with this diversity, that coming from a thicker medium into a thinner, as from water into air, the species in breaking recedes from a perpendicular falling upon the common surface of the two mediums; as, on the contrary, entering into a less diaphanous medium out of one more diaphanous, it breaks, and Cones nearer a perpendicular than it would have done had it continued directly. Secondly, 'Tis to be observed, that bodies which cause reflection or refraction are either smooth or unequal and rough. Smooth bodies make reflection and refraction with order; and the reflected or refracted image resembles its object, although it may be altered by the various figures of the reflecting or refracting bodies, as convex Looking-glasses diminish it, hollow enlarge it; whereas, on the contrary, convex Perspective Glasses enlarge and concave lessen the object: but both the Looking-glasses, and the other represent the Image perfect. Unequal and scabrous bodies reflect or refract confusedly without distinct representation of the Image; because these Bodies being terminated with infinite little imperceptible surfaces looking every way, they also reflect every way, as is seen in stones, wood, and other bodies of different ruggedness, and so causing different reflections and refractions. in the third place, we must observe some prime properties of Looking-glasses; as, That if a species fall perpendicularly upon the surface, 'tis likewise perpendicularly reflected, and consequently, upon its own object; as when the Eye beholds itself in the glass. But if the species fall obliquely upon the glass, it will be reflected as obliquely the other way, making the angles of the incidence equal to those of reflection; as when the Eye beholds something else then itself in the glass. And an Eye constituted in the place where it may receive the reflection shall see the image of the object by help of the glass. But if the mirror reflect no species to the place where the Eye is, than the surface of the mirror shall appear so much more dark as the mirror is exact, that is, smooth; and more opake, the greater the light is. As the Eye being in the place of reflection cannot bear the Sunbeams reflected from the mirror no more than the Sun itself; but being in another place, it shall see nothing but darkness, and take the glass for a hole, especially if it lie upon the ground. Moreover, a Convex Spherical glass hath this property, that it represents the image very small, and more small when the Eye and object are remote from the mirror which is small, or appears such. In which glasses also the Image never takes up the whole plane of the glass, but a very small part of it. Lastly, Every object which appears lucid, and not by its own light, transmits' light to us either by reflection or refraction, after having received the same from some other luminous object. From these truths here supposed, but clearly demonstrated in the Catoptrics, I conclude necessarily, That the body of the Moon is not smooth, but rough or scabrous. For 'tis manifest by its various faces, that it borrows from the Sun the greater light of the two which appear in her, (the least whereof, namely, that which appears in the part which the Sun enlightens not, (in the increase and decrease) many think to be her own:) which borrowed light increases or diminishes according as she removes farther from, or comes nearer to the Sun; whence the diversity of her faces. From which diversity of faces 'tis concluded further, that the figure of the face towards us is spherical, convex, either rough or smooth. But smooth it cannot be, because than it would represent the very Image of the Sun to us very small, and in a small part of its face, the rest remaining dark, by the aforesaid observations of Looking-glasses; wherefore it must be rough or unequal, because the whole face appears lucid when 'tis beheld by the Sun at the full, and no image of the Sun appears distinctly in it. For 'tis certain, that the Moon sends her borrowed light by reflection, and not by refraction; otherwise she should be diaphanous, and would appear most illuminated when near the Sun, and be full in her conjunction, and obscure in her full; because she's lower than the Sun, and so in conjunction his light would appear through her; and in her full, which is her opposition, the Sun's light would pass through her towards Heaven, not towards us. Wherefore, as to the spots of the Moon, it may be said, in general, that she is unequally seabrous, and the dark parts are nearest smoothness, and so make a more orderly reflection, but another way then to the Earth, the Angles of Incidence and Reflection being not disposed thereunto. But they are not perfectly smooth, because they transmit a little light to us; which they could not do being perfectly smooth, unless at a certain time when the Sun were so disposed, as that his Image might be seen in those parts, as in a Spherical Mirror. The other more scabrous parts making a disorderly and irregular reflection, are seen on all parts; as if you fasten pieces of glass, marble, or the like smooth bodies, to a wall enlightened by the Sun, the rough parts of the wall will appear very bright, and the smooth obscure. But because we know not truly what is the matter of the Heavenly Bodies, we can only say, for proof of this unevenness in the Moon's body, that the rougher parts are more hard, and the less rough are liquid; for then the liquor surrounding the centre of the Moon, as the water doth about that of the earth, will have a surface more approaching to smoothness as the water hath; and this, without inferring it composed of earth and water, but of some celestial matter like to our elementary, and whose fluidity or hardness doth not prejudice its incorruptibility; those who hold the Heaven's solid or liquid, holding them equally incorruptible. Unless we had rather say, that the body of the Moon being all of the same hardness, may nevertheless have parts unequally rough and smooth.  
The Third said, That he apprehended two causes of these spots. First, the divers conformation of these celestial bodies, which being no more perfectly round then the earth (which nevertheless would appear spherical to us if it were luminous) make shadows inseparable from bodies of other figure then the plain. Secondly, from the weakness of our Sight, which as it fancies colours in the clouds which are not in them, (no more than the Air is blue, though it appear to us, and we paint it such;) so being dazzled by a luminous body, and the visual ray being disgregated, it makes sundry appearances therein, which can be only dark and obscure in a thing which is lucid. For I would not attribute these spots, which represent the lineaments of a face, to such a fancy as that of Antiphon, who saw his own picture in the Air, since they are observed by all people after the same manner: but the weakness of our Sight may contribute something thereunto. For if we say that every celestial body is an earth, and that the bright part is the terrestrial mass, and the dark the water, or the contrary; it will be necessary that this earth also have its Heaven, that its stars, and so to infinity.  
The Fourth said, That they who have imagined spots in the Sun, had them in their Eyes, it being improbable that there is any defect of light in that Star which is the fountain of it; but they are produced by the vapours between the Sun and the Eye, and therefore appear not at full noon, and change with the vapours and clouds. As for those which appear in the Moon's face, there is great diversity of opinions; as of the Rabbins and Mahometans, of the ancient Philosophers reported by Plutarch in his treatise thereof, and of the moderns. The first are ridiculous, in believing that Lucifer, by his fall, and the beating of his wings, struck down part of the light of this great Luminary, or that the same was taken away to frame the Spirits of the Prophets. Those Philosophers who attributed the cause to the violence of the Sunbeams reflected from the Moon to our Eyes, would conclude well if the like spots appeared in the Sun as do in the Moon; because the rays coming directly from the Sun to the Eyes have more brightness, and dazzle more, than those reflected by the Moon. Nor can these spots be the Images of the Sea and its straits; for the Ocean surrounding the Terrestrial Globe, that part of it which remains in the lower part of the Globe cannot send its species so far as the Moon, whilst she enlightens the upper part; the Moon being able to receive only the species of that part which she enlightens, according to the principles of Theodosius, who teaches us that from the Zenith of one Hemisphere right lines cannot be drawn to the other Hemisphere, by reason of the solidity of the Globe; the caliginous fire, the wind, the condensation of the Air, and the like opinions of the Stoics, and other ancient Philosophers, though erroneous, yet seem to me more probable than those of some Moderns, who will have the Moon inhabited, not considering that 'tis too small to make an habitable earth, her body being the fortieth part of the Terrestrial Globe, and its surface the thirteenth of that of the Earth, or thereabouts; besides, that she comes too near the Sun, whose Eclipse her interposition causeth, They who make the Moon and the Earth to move about the Sun, may indeed, with Copernicus, explicate the most signal motions and phaenomena: But the stability of the Pole, and the Stars about it, requires a fixed point in the Earth, with which the inequality of the days and seasons could not consist, if the Sun were stable and in one place. Moreover, the difference of days proceeds from the obliquity of the Ecliptic, which is the cause that the parallels of the Solstice are nearer one to another, and the days then less unequal than at the Equinoxes, which cannot hold good in this Scheme. But 'tis less reasonable to say, that the hollow places in the Moon seem dark; for by the rules of perspective, they should remit the Sun's rays redoubled by their reflection, by reason of the cone which is formed in hollow parts; nor can they be eminences, which appear obscure, because in this case the spots should not appear so great, or not come at all to us, being surpassed by the dilatation of the rays redoubled by the conical figure of the cavities of the Moon. 'Tis therefore more probable that as a Star is the thicker part of its Orb, so the Moon hath some dense than others which are the most luminous; as those which are more diaphanous, letting those beams of the Sun pass through them, which they are not able to reflect for want of sufficient density, seem more obscure, and make the spots.  
The fifth said, The spots of the Sun cannot be from the same causes with those of the Moon, which experience shows us changes place and figure, those of the Sun remaining always alike, and in the same figure; whereby we may also understand the validity of what is alleged by some, That the Sun moving upon his own Centre carries his spots about with him: For granting this motion, yet if these spots interred in the Sun, they would always appear in the same manner, and at regular times, by reason of the Sun's equal and uniform revolution. Nevertheless, the most diligent observers find that some of them are generated, and disappear at the same time in the Solar face. Which would incline me to their opinion who hold those spots to be generated out of the body of the Sun, in the same manner that exhalations are out of the bosom of the earth; did not this derogate from the received incorruptibility of the Heavens. For it cannot be any defect of our sight, mistaking the vapours between the eye and the Sun for spots inherent in his body, since they are seen by all, almost in the same number and figure; which should alter with the medium if this were the cause of them; and 'tis impossible that vapours should follow the Sun in his course for so many days together as one of these spots appears; for it must move above 6000 leagues a day, though it were not much elevated above the earth. Nor do our Telescopes deceive us, since without them we behold these spots in a Basin of water, or upon a white paper in a close Chamber, whereinto the Sun is admitted only by a small hole. Nor, Lastly, are they small Stars, called by some Borboneae and Mediceae, because we perceive both their nativity and their end.   

II. Whether 'tis best to use severity or gentleness towards our dependants.  
Upon the second Point 'twas said, That he who said a man hath as many domestic enemies as servants, employed that we are to use them as such, converse with them as in an Enemy-Country, and according to the Counsel of good Captains build some Fort therein for our security. Which Fort is severity, and its Bastions the reasons obliging us to this rigour. The first of which is drawn from the contempt ensuing upon gentleness and familiarity, and from the respect arising from severity and gravity, especially in low and servile souls, which being ill educated would easily fall into vice; to which men are more inclined then to virtue, if they be not restrained by fear of punishment, which makes deeper impression upon their minds then the sweetness and love of virtue wherewith they are not acquainted. Besides that servants are apt to grow slack and lukewarm in their duties, unless they be spurred up by severity. And 'tis a great disorder when a servant becomes equal to his master, as it happens by mildness; nor was Paganism ever more ridiculous then in the Saturnalia, when the servants played the masters. It must likewise be confessed that severity hath a certain majesty which exacts such honour and service as gentleness cannot obtain. By this virtue Germanicus became so considerable, and was so well obeyed, as, on the contrary, Nerva's mildness weakened and enervated the Roman Commonwealth. Was ever King more severe, and better obeyed than Tamberlane, or any family more powerfully established then that of the Ottamans, which owes all its grandeur to severity and rigour, the sole upholder of Military Discipline, a good Captain never pardoning any in war. For the misery of inferiors, whether true or imaginary, joined with the natural desire of liberty, easily carries them to rebellion, if fear and rigour tie not their hands. Thus the war undertaken by the Servants against their Masters at Rome was the effect of mildness; nor was there any other means to repress it but by blood and slaughter; as another Nation once routed an Army of their Slaves with Whips and Stirrup-leathers; the sight of which reviving the memory of their former scars was more effectual than ordinary weapons. Therefore when the Law gave power of life and death over slaves, it intended not to authorise homicide, being sufficiently careful of men's lives; but judged it expedient to retain these persons in their duty by the apprehension of death. The reason which once obliged the Senate to put 600 innocent slaves to death, for an example to others.  
The Second said, whatever security there may be in severity, it hath effects too violent to be durable. Man's mind is too delicate a piece; and whatever difference fortune hath put between men, their spirit, which is the same in all, is too noble to be curbed with a cudgel and biting of brutish severity; which on the other side causes hatred, as mildness doth love, and is therefore to be preferred; there being none but had rather be loved then hated, and no way to be beloved but by loving. For the same Proverb which reckons servants amongst necessary evils, reckons a wife so too; and the tyrannical Aphorism, So many servants so many enemies, is not true but in those who have cause given them to be so. And indeed, a Master's condition would be the worst of all, if he must live always at home upon his guard, as in a den of Lions or Tigers. For, what is alleged, that servants are ill bred and ill-natured, and seldom acknowledge the obligations they have to their Masters, is indeed too true in the most eminent conditions: but that which we call ingratitude in them, comes especially from the rigour of our deportments, which offuscate the benefits and commodities they receive from us. Their low fortune is unpleasant enough, without making them desperate to our prejudice. And indeed, the Laws which have allowed most severity to Masters over their slaves, have sometimes been insufficient to secure them from the fatal strokes of their discontent; as many Histories of Roman Masters murdered by their slaves (notwithstanding that rigour of Silanus' Law) and the dangerous revolts of Spartacus, and others in the Provinces, sufficiently testify. Whence it appears, that a man must be in as much fear of his servants as he would be feared by them; and that suspicion and diffidence is as well the mother of treacheries as of safety, since it seems to leave those whom we distrust to do all the mischief they can. For to pretend severity, for avoidance of contempt and too great familiarity, in my judgement speaks great weakness of mind; and as if dominion and majesty could not be more agreeably maintained by clemency: and gravity affected by rigour is as ridiculous as odious; yea 'tis to fall into an extremity too vicious, to make one's self hated for fear of being slighted, and to appear cruel to avoid being familiar.  
The Third said, That although gentleness be more acceptable than severity, yet 'tis also more dangerous: witness that of Lewis the Debonnaire, and Eli the chief Priest, towards their children, for whom the Wiseman recommends the rod, as Aristotle doth discipline for servants and slaves: and the indulgence of good husbands to their wives is the most apparent cause of the luxury reigning in that Sex, to say no worse. A family is a kind of Republic, and the principles of Occonomy and Policy are much alike. Now we see States are preserved by the exact severity of Laws, signified by the Rods, Axes, Maces and naked Swords, born by Magistrates, and the Sceptres of Kings. But no Magistrates have Ensigns of gentleness, as being more dangerous, because directly opposed to justice, all whose rights and privileges are preserved by severity. And hence clemency is not permitted to be used by inferior Judges, but that it may be more rare, 'tis reserved to Princes themselves who are above Laws and Customs.  
The Fourth said, It belongs to Prudence to determine when, how, where and why, ways of gentleness or severity are to be used; some minds being exasperated by severity, like those tempers on which violent medicines work least; and others turning sweetness into bitterness, whilst they think it to proceed from timerousness or impotence, and so take licence to do any thing, whom benign medicines act not. But, to speak absolutely, the way of gentleness must always precede and be found unprofitable before coming to rigour, according to the precept of the Physicians, who use fire and cauteries only when the malignity of the malady will not yield to ordinary remedies, which the ancient Arabians never used till having first tried a diet and regiment of living. Nor does wise Nature ever use violence till she is forced to it by some potent cause, as the fear of Vacuity, or the penetration of Dimensions. In all the rest of her actions she proceeds with sweetness, wherewith she hath so endowed man, that the same humour which gives and preserves his being, namely, Blood, is the cause of Clemency and Gentleness, called for this reason Humanity. Wherefore 'tis more suitable to our nature then to lean towards its contrary; and the way from gentleness to rigour is more rational and natural then from rigour to gentleness. For when a rough master speaks flatteringly to his servants, they are no more moved therewith then a Horse accustomed to the spur is with the voice alone. Yea, a Horse that will not stir for words will go for the spur; and Masters who incessantly rate and beat their servants, are like those ill Horsemen who have always their spurs in the Horse's sides, where they make by this means a callous scar, insensible to the most quick stimulations.    

CONFERENCE XCIV.  
I. Of the Eclipses of the Sun and Moon. II. Whether all Sciences may be profitably reduced to one.  

I. Of the Eclipses of the Sun and Moon.  
▪ 'tIs an ancient saying, that the Luminaries have never more spectators than when some Languishment befalls them; because ordinary effects, how excellent soever, affect us less than such as are not common, whose novelty raises admiration in our minds, otherwise much delighted in considering others defects and imperfections. Those of the Celestial Bodies are deficiencies of light, called Eclipses, which happen by the diametrical interposition of some opake body. To speak only of those of the Sun and Moon; the former is caused by the shadow of the Moon upon the Earth, and the latter, by that of the Earth upon the Moon, by reason of their vicinity. For the Sun's course being always in the Ecliptic of the Zodiac, which they ordinarily, but improperly, call a line, being rather a plane superficies, and a great circle, cutting the sphere into two equal parts, in which the Sun ascends in his Apogaeum, and descends in his Perigaeum. The Moon likewise, according to her proper motion, is found every month in the same sign with the Sun; which is called her Conjunction, and makes the New Moon. Yet with this difference, that she is either in the South or the North, in respect of the Sun in the same sign, unless when passing from one to another she crosses the Ecliptic, wherein the Sun makes his course in the middle of such sign; in which intersection is made the Eclipse of the Sun, the Moon being then directly between the Sun and our sight. This point of intersection is called the Dragon's head, when she moves from the South to the North, and the Dragon's tail when from the North to the South. Now forasmuch as the Lunar Body is less than that of the Earth, and much less than that of the Sun, scarce taking up the latitude of the pyramid formed by the visual rays; hence the Sun's Eclipse is never either total or universal, the Moon not being capable to hide the body of the Sun from those who behold him from the Earth in another situation. After her conjunction with the Sun, she withdraws from him by little and little, increasing in roundness and light, till she become fully opposite to the Sun, at which time half of her Globe is perfectly enlightened; and then 'tis Full Moon. Now because in this perfect opposition the Earth casts its shadow upon that part of the Ecliptic which is opposite to the Sun, if in this opposition the Moon happen to cut the Ecliptic, she enters into the Earth's shadow, and becomes darkened by privation of the Sun's light. So that the Moon is never eclipsed but in her opposition when she is at the Full, nor the Sun but at New Moon when she is in conjunction. Whence that eclipse of the Sun which appeared at our Lord's death was miraculous, the Moon being then naturally unable to eclipse the Sun by her interposition, because she was directly opposite to him, and at the Full.  
The Second said, That in this common explication of Eclipses, the Parallaxes of the Sun and Moon cause many difficulties in their calculations, being the cause that the same Eclipse is total to some, partial to others, none to others, and to some sooner and longer than to others; besides, that 'tis requisite to have as many new calculations as there are different places. But a general way whereby to explicate Eclipses so perfectly, that one single calculation may suffice for the whole Earth, and oftentimes for several Eclipses, cannot be had without knowledge of the distances, magnitudes and shadows of the Sun, the Earth, and the Moon, which are these; the Sun is distant from the Earth about 1200. semidiametres of the Earth, which amount to almost 2000000. of our leagues. The Moon is distant from the Earth near 56. semidiametres of the Earth, making about 90000. leagues, or the two and twentieth part of the Sun's distance: Whence at New Moon the distance of the Moon from the Sun is 109000. leagues; and so the Sun is distant from the Earth twenty one times more than the Moon. As for the magnitude of these bodies, the Diametre of the Sun is about six times as big as that of the Earth, and twenty one times as great as that of the Moon; and consequently exceeds the one five, and the other twenty times. Whence it follows, that the length of the shadows of the Earth and the Moon being proportionate to their distances from the Sun, as their Diametres are to that Excess, the shadow of the Earth shall have in length the fifth part of its distance from the Sun, namely, 400000. leagues, and the shadow of the Moon the twentieth part of her distance from the Sun, namely, 95500. leagues. These shadows of the Earth and the Moon are of a conical figure, the base whereof is one of the circles of the Earth or the Moon, and the cusp is the point removed from their bases, according to the abovesaid distances. Which figure proceeds from the Sun's being greater than the Moon or the Earth, and all three of a round or spherical figure; and the conical shadow is a perfect shadow admitting no direct ray from the Sun; but there is an imperfect shadow about the same, admitting rays from some parts of the Sun, but not from all. And as the imperfect shadow diminishes conically, so the imperfect increases conically; so that the Moons imperfect shadow reaches 90000. leagues, which is the distance of the Moon from the Earth, occupying round about the perfect shadow near 1000 leagues on each side; because 'tis in proportion to the Diametre of the Sun, as the distance of the Earth from the Moon is to the distance of the Moon from the Sun. Now since the shadow of the Moon, which is 95500. leagues, reaches further than the Moon's distance from the Earth, which is but 90000. leagues, it follows that at New Moon when she is directly between the Sun and the Earth, (which happens when the Moon is twenty degrees before or after, either the head or the tail of the Dragon) the point of her shadow reaches to the Earth, covering sometimes near 30. leagues round of Earth with perfect shadow, which is surrounded with another imperfect one of a thousand leagues. And as the Moon by her proper motion passes beneath the Sun from West to East, so her shadow traverses the Earth from the West part to the East; so that wherever the point of the perfect shadow passes, there is a total Eclipse of the Sun; and where the imperfect shadow passes, the Eclipse is only partial, but greater according as you are nearer the perfect shadow. From these consequences may be drawn, That the Eclipse of the Sun is seen sooner in the West part of the Earth then in the East, by almost five hours; which is the time that the shadow of the Moon is crossing the plane of the Earth. That one and the same Eclipse of the Sun cannot be seen in all parts of the Earth, because, though as the shadow moves, it crosses from West to East; yet it is not large enough to cover the whole Earth from North to South. That in one and the same year there are at least two Eclipses of the Sun visible in some parts of the Earth, sometimes three, and four at most. For every half year in which the Sun passes by the Dragon's head, if the New Moon be made at the same head, there will be an Eclipse, which will be total in the torrid zone, and partial in the temperate zones, a thousand leagues or more on either side; and this will be the sole Eclipse for this half year. If the New Moon be made within ten degrees before the Dragon's head, there will be only this Eclipse in this half year, which which will be total, sometimes in the torrid zone, sometimes in the southern temperate zone, and partial, a thousand leagues or more every way. The like will happen if the New Moon be made within ten degrees after the Dragon's head, but a total Eclipse will be seen in the torrid zone, or else in northern temperate. But if in the same half year the New Moon be made between ten and twenty degrees before the head, there will be an Eclipse in the cold zone, and at the extremity of the temperate southern zone: But then the New Moon immediately following will be made between ten and twenty degrees after the head, and there will be another Eclipse seen in the frigid zone, and at the extremity of the northern temperate zone; which two Eclipses, most commonly, are but partial. The same must be said of the other half year in which the Sun passes by the Dragon's tail, saving that the parts which precede the tail regard the northern part of the Earth; and those which follow, the southern; which happens quite contrary at the head. Which we must observe, is diametrically opposite to the tail, and that they remain not always in the same place, but move round the Heaven regularly in about nineteen years, contrary to the order of the signs from Aries to Pisces, and from thence to Aquarius, backwards. As for the Eclipse of the Moon, we must consider the shadow of the Earth, which is cast into the Ecliptic in the part opposite to the Sun; and because the same is 400000. leagues long, it follows that it crosses the Heaven of the Moon, and beyond; so that although it be diminished at the Heaven of the Moon, yet in that place it hath near one degree a half diametre, the Moon not having much more than one degree. And consequently, if the Moon be at the Full, either in the head or the tail of the Dragon, or else in thirty degrees before or after, the Moon will pass into the shadow of the Earth, and be either wholly eclipsed or in part, according as she shall enter wholly into the perfect shadow. For here the imperfect shadow is not considerable, the Moon not being eclipsed so long as she receives the rays of any part of the Sun; whence it follows that the Moon naturally loses her light, but not the Sun, which the inposition of the Moon only keeps from our Eyes; that the Eclipse of the Moon is seen at the same time by all those who can see it. And that there can be but two in one year, namely, one in every six months; sometimes but one in a year, and sometimes none at all; namely, when the Full Moon happens between thirteen and seventeen degrees, before or after the head or the tail of the Dragon.   

II. Whether all Sciences may be profitably reduced to one.  
Upon the Second Point it was said, That the desire of knowing is very charming; but man's life is too short to satisfy the same, unless the great number of Sciences be reduced into one, their multitude requiring a volumn to contain their names alone, and this with their length being the principal causes of the little fruit gathered from them, and the distaste which they beget. The way of abridgement would be to retrench out of each all matters unprofitable, or not pertaining to the Science, as are most Metaphysical Questions which are treated of in Logic; Natural, in Medicine; Moral, Natural, and Juridical, in Divinity, to avoid repetitions: And thus the fifth and sixth Books of Euclid might be reduced into one, since in the latter he demonstrates by number what before he had demonstrated by lines; yea, the 117 Propositions of his tenth Book might be demonstrated in another order, and comprised in less than thirty; as the five following Books, the three of Candalus, the Spherics of Theodosius, the conics of Apollonius, the Principles of Archimedes, and others, which make above 500 Propositions, might be reduced profitably to less than a hundred. But above all, 'twould be requisite to be careful of laying down good Principles, and teaching these Sciences with order; and for this purpose to retrench all unprofitable Books, whose numerousness causes confusion, and is now more hurtful than their scarcity was heretofore; according to Justinian's example, who reduced all the Law-books of his time into two Volumes, the Digests and the Code; and that of the Jews, who comprised all things that can be known in one single Science called Cabbala, as the Druids did their Disciplines under certain Maxims and Aphorisms; and Raimond Lullie's Art teaches to know and speak of all things; which might be done, if instead of spending the fittest time of our Age (as we do unprofitably) in learning to speak Latin and Greek, we employed it, by the example of the Ancients, upon the Mathematics, History, and all Sciences depending more upon memory and fancy than solidity of Judgement, which might afterwards be formed in a short time by Logic, in order to its being exercised in the knowledge of things natural, supernatural, and moral; which might easily be obtained in less than five years, if all superfluities were retrenched.  
The Second said, Because the possibility of a thing must first be understood, before the means of attaining it sought, 'tis requisite first to agree whether all Sciences are reducible into one, before the ways to do it be enquired. And although at first sight it seem possible, because they presuppose one another, and there is such a connection in their principles that some depend upon the demonstration of others; yet I conceive this reunion of all into one would seem rather a monster, or a thing like the confusion and disorder of the ancient Chaos, than a true and legitimate Discipline. For 'tis easier to destroy the present method then to establish a better. Moreover, how is this union possible, since the foundations and principles of Sciences are controverted by the Masters who profess them? For setting aside those indemonstrable principles which are very few, and need only be heard that they may be granted, and may be learned in less than an hour; if we make an induction through all the Sciences, we shall find nothing certain in them. Has Morality, whose chief object is Beatitude, found one sole point wherein to establish it? Are not part of Aristotle's opinions overthrown by Galen? who on the other side is counter-checked by Paracelsus and all the Chemists, who pretend to cure diseases by their likes, as the former doth by their contraries? Law, being founded upon the instability of humane will, hath as little certainty: And Divinity itself, which is the Science of Verities, is divided by the Sects of the Nominals, of Scotus, and Thomas; not to speak of the Heresies which incessantly assault it. And if we compare it to other Sciences, it overthrows most of their Principles, by establishing the Mysteries of Faith. This is it which made the wisest of men, and who perfectly understood all Sciences, to say, That they were but vanity: And were this union possible, he hath so highly recommended sobriety of knowing, that 'twould be a kind of intemperance to desire to know every thing, no less presumptuous by exceeding the bounds set by God to each of our capacities, then ridiculous, by attempting to make a necessary and infallible thing of many contingent and uncertain, and not yet agreed upon.  
The Third said, That Unity, which is one of the Transcendents, coeternal and coessential to Good, aught to be the attribute of all good things, and consequently of Discipline, which likewise being the good of the Understanding, which is one, cannot be comprehended by it, but by their becoming conformable the one to the other. If any reply, That 'tis enough that things enter into it successively, and so need not be one, (which would be inconsistent with their nature); I answer, That the series and order which is found in those things belongs to one single Science; otherwise they would have no conection together, and by this means could not be made use of to purpose. And since all our Notions depend one of another, our Discourse being but a continual Syllogism, whose Conclusions depend upon the Premises, it follows, That the Syllogism being the subject but of one Science, they all pertain but to one Science; whence Philosophy is defined the knowledge of things divine and humane; that is to say, of every thing. Indeed, since all moral Virtues are so connected together, that 'tis impossible to possess one without possessing all; the Sciences (which are the intellectual virtues) must be straight united likewise; and the more, for that they have but one most simple subject, to wit, the Uderstanding. And since the means of Being are the same with those of Knowing, every thing that is in the world having the same Principles of existence must also have the same principles of knowledge, and so make one sole Science; because Sciences differ only by reason of their principle; all which too depend upon one Metaphysical principle, namely, That one and the same thing cannot be and not be; which proves all others; and therefore it follows, That there must be one sole Science general, comprehending all the rest. For to say, That every several manner of handling a thing makes a distinct Science, is to imitate him who would make an Art of every Simple. Lastly, Nature would not have given us a desire of knowing every thing, if this desire could not be accomplished: But it is impossible to be so, whilst the Sciences remain so diffuse as they are at present.    

CONFERENCE XCV.  
I. Of the diversity of Wits. II. Of New-year's Gifts.  

I. Of the diversity of Wits.  
DIversity is found in all things, but no where more remarkably then in man; for, not to speak now of Bodies, that of Minds is so great that none have been ever found to have the same inclinations or motions, or that have been so much as like to themselves; the Mind being an indefatigable Agent, varying postures every moment, according to the several occurrences of new objects, to which it becomes like. But though the division of Wits be so unequal and disadvantageous to some, that there's observed as great difference between one man and another as between some men and a brute, yet all are well pleased with their lot, and every one thinks he hath enough to spare, and to govern and instruct others; so conceited are we of what belongs to ourselves. Now the cause of this diversity of Spirits and Inclinations seems to be the various constitution of bodies, whose temper the motions and inclinations of the Soul follow; and this temper being incessantly mutable by causes internal and external, not only in the four seasons of the year, but also in the four parts of the day, hence ariseth the diversity of the actions and inclinations of the Mind, which is so great, that the same thing pleases and displeases us in a little space of time.  
The Second said, That the Faculty which they call Ingenium or Genius, cannot proceed merely from the temperament of the four qualities: For we see those that come nearest the temperament of man are the most stupid; and Ages, Seasons, and Aliments changing those qualities continually, should also incessantly change man's wits. But 'tis a quality or ray of the Reasonable Soul, which finding the four qualities variously mixed in every one, makes use thereof in different operations; and so this difference is only accidental, not essential. Moreover, we see, that whatever difference be conceived in Minds, yet their fundamental inclinations are alike, the hatred and aversion of evil things, and the desire and prosecution of good; if the means employed to these purposes be different, this proceeds from a particular imagination caused by the constitution of the humours, which makes this difference appear, as through a coloured glass. So the choler of the Soldier puts him upon seeking honour and profit in Arms; the Advocate is moved to seek them in the Sciences, either by his more moderate temper, or by the example and pleasure of his Ancestors. Yet this Proportion cannot change the essence of Wits, but only the appearance; as a Painter out of the mixture of four or five colours makes infinite others, which differ only in show.  
The Third said, There are many partial causes of this variety, and they may be various to infinity, according to the various haps they meet with, like the letters of the Alphabet diversely combined; yet they may be referred to three principal, Nature, Art, and Fortune. The Nature of Man is the Soul and the Body. Souls cannot differ specifically, as some hold; for then a species should be part of an individual, since the Soul makes a part of man; which is absurd, because the species must be predicated of many individuals. Yet I think there is some individual difference between our Souls, not wholly depending upon the conformation of the organs, or the temper of humours, because excellent Souls have been found to lodge in ill-made Bodies, as those of Socrates and Aesop; and the contrary. Art may also contribute much to this diversity, especially in Youth, when wits are more flexible; some very dull ones having been incredibly improved by study. So also may Fortune and Occasion; amongst others, the place of residence; as the fertility of Palestine in Pasturage made the Jews Shepherds; and the plains of Egypt, fitted for tillage by the inundation of Nilus, made the Egyptians Ploughmen. Those that inhabit the coasts of the Sea are Merchants, in regard of the conveniency of transportation. And necessity, which forces our wits upon sundry things, makes the Arabians, who live in an unfertile soil, for the most part Thiefs; as sterility has constrained others to make war upon their neighbours. The diversity of Climates, Winds, Waters, Diets, Exercises, and generally all external and internal things, making some impression upon the temper, makes likewise some diversity in Wits.  
The Fourth said, That diversity of actions cannot proceed but from diversity of forms; and therefore those of men must be unequal. 'Tis likely the Souls of Aristotle, Socrates, and the like great Philosophers, were of another stamp then those of people so stupid that they cannot reckon above five. And who dares say that the Soul of Judas was as perfect as that of our Lord? Moreover the Wise man saith, Wisd. c. 8. that he received a good Soul. Plato distinguishes Wits into as many Classes as there are Metals. And experience shows us three sorts in the world; some few are transcendent and heroical, being raised above the rest: others are weak and of the lowest rank, such as we commonly say have not common sense; others are of an indifferent reach, of which too there are sundry degrees, which to attribute wholly to the various mixture of elementary material qualities, is to make a spiritual effect, as the action of the Understanding is, depend upon a corporeal cause, between which there is no proportion. And 'twere less absurd to ascribe these effects to the divers aspects of the stars, whose influences and celestial qualities are never altogether alike.  
The Fifth said, That wit is a dexterity or power of the soul, seated in the Cognoscitive rational faculty, not in the Appetitive or Sensitive. 'Tis a certain capacity of the Understanding to know things, which is done either by invention or instruction of others. Invention requires acuteness of wit and judgement. Learning, docility, and likewise judgement. Memory serves as well to invent as to learn. And thus three things are requisite to Wit, namely, Memory, Acuteness, and Judgement. The first furnishes matter and sundry things, without supply whereof 'tis impossible to have a good wit. The Judgement disposes things in order, resolving the whole into its parts when 'tis requisite to learn or teach, and reducing the parts to their whole when 'tis required to invent, which is the more difficult; our mind finding it of more facility to divide things then to compound them. Whence Inventors of Arts, and things necessary to life, have been placed in the number of the gods. But, because each of these three faculties require a contrary temperature; Memory a hot and moist, as in children; Acuteness of wit, a temper hot and dry, as that of Poets and Magicians; Judgement, a cold and dry, proper to old men; hence it is that a perfect Wit which excels in all three is rarely found.   

II. Of New-year's Gifts.  
Upon the second Point 'twas said, That the Poet who said, that he who begins a work well hath already done half of it, spoke no less judiciously of humane actions than those who advise to have regard to the end. For, as this crowns the work, so 'tis not to be doubted but a good beginning makes half of this wreath, and that both joined together perfect the circle, the Hieroglyphic of the revolution of years. Hence we see antiquity contrived to begin them with some festival solemnities, with intent thereby to consecrate their first actions to the Deity. The Hebrews had their most remarkable feasts in the month Nisan, the first of the year, answering to our March; and amongst others that solemn Passover, when they invited their Neighbours to the feast of the Lamb. The Greeks began their Olympiads with Games and Sacrifices to Jupiter; and the superstitious Egyptians not only took omens from what they first met every day, but made it their god for that day. And being next the divine assistance men value nothing more than the favour and good will of their friends, 'tis no wonder if after sacrifices and public ceremonies they have been so careful to continue this mutual friendship by feasts and presents at the beginning of the year, which some extended to the beginnings of months, which are Lunar years, as the Turks do at the beginning of each Moon, of which they then adore the Croissant. And if they who make great Voyages, after having doubled the Cape of Good Hope, or some other notable passage, have reason to make feasts and merriment, for joy of the happy advancement of their Navigation; those who are embarked together in the course of this life, and whom the series of years (which may be called so many Capes and Points marked in the Chart of our Navigation) transports into new Countries, aught to rejoice with their friends for the dangers which they have escaped, and felicitate them for the future by presents, and wishes, in the continuation of this journey. Or else considering the difference of years as great as that of Countries, we renew our correspondencies by presents, as hospitalities were anciently by those which they called Xenia, which is still the name of our New-year's Gifts; since in respect of the great alterations happening in those years, we may be said to be new Guests, or Hospites of a New-year.  
The Second said, That this laudable custom was founded upon reason and example, our Druids being wont to gather with great ceremonies the Misletoe of the Oak, which they consecrated to their great Tutates, and then distributed to the people, as of great virtue. Whence our New-year's Presents are still called in many places 
* Guy, fig. Misletoe.  Guy-l'an-neuf. But the first day of the year was not the same with all Nations; some of our first Kings began it at S. Martin's day, as appears by the dates of some old Ordinances, and the yet continued openings of our Parliaments; whence possibly remains the fashion of making good cheer on this day. The Romans used this custom, sometimes in March, which was the first month of the year, when the year had but ten months, each of 36 days; and afterwards on the Calends and first day of January, which was added with February to the other ten by Numa. And ever from the foundation of Rome, Tatius and Romulus appointed a bundle of Verven to be offered with other presents for a good augury of the beginning year. Tacitus mentions an Edict of Tiberius, forbidding to give or demand New-year's Gifts, saving at the Calends of January, when as well the Senators and Knights, as all other Orders brought presents to the Emperor, and in his absence to the Capitol. Of which I observe another rise in the cense or numeration of the people, which was made in the beginning of the Lustres or every five years, and began under Ancus Martius; at which time money was cast amongst the people, as the Emperors did afterwards when they reviewed their Armies at the beginning of each year, honouring the most eminent Soldiers with presents. Now reason too is joined with this practice; for as we take presages from the first occurrences of a day, week, or year, so none are more acceptable than gifts, which gratify the more because they come without pains or expense.  
The Third said, That the three sorts of goods being found in the reception of presents sent us by friends; (for they testify the honour which they do us; the least present brings some profit to the receiver; and no benefit is received without some pleasure) 'tis no wonder if men who have from all time assigned some day to every thing which they esteemed good, have also thought fit to solemnize the Feast of Presents or Benefits, and to testify their esteem thereof have made the Year begin by it, for good augury. Indeed, nothing is so powerful as Presents, because they make and reconcile amity, the greatest Gift which God hath given to men. They pierce the best-guarded Gates, as Philip of Macedon said; and Jupiter found nothing so fitting as a Golden-showre whereby to convey himself into Danae's lap. Homer with his Muses is thrust out by the shoulders if he brings nothing with him; whereas a course Varlet laden with booty is admitted even into the Closet. Whereof men are so persuaded, that there was never a Religion but had its offerings. And God forbids any to come before him with empty hands. Especially, gifts are agreeable, when the proportion of the receiver with the giver is observed. So the poverty of the Greek Epigrammatist made Augustus well pleased with the penny which he presented to him. But the price of a thing, or (in defect thereof) its novelty, or the excellence of the work-man-ship, the place and time is most considerable, this latter making such things as would have no acceptance at another season, pass for courtesies in the beginning of the year.    

CONFERENCE XCVI.  
I. Of Place. II. Of Hieroglyphics.  

I. Of Place.  
ALL created things having a finite and circumscribed essence, have also a proper place which serves for a bound to their nature, which is the principle of their motions and actions, which cannot be but in some place; the six differences whereof, namely, above, below, before, behind, the right side and the left, sufficiently prove its existence, since differences presuppose a genus. But its nature and essence is no less hard to be known, than its existence is plain. To omit the sundry considerations of its several Sciences, here we understand, by place, that which contains things placed; and 'tis either common to more, or proper to one alone; this, either external or internal: and generally, 'tis either Physical or Mathematical, or rather the same sometimes, provided, and sometimes devested of accidents in its pure dimensions. This place cannot be the space of every body, because space is nothing else but a vacuum, which is wholly opposite to place, which being an affection ' of body must be something of reality. 'Tis therefore well defined the first internal and unmoveable surface of the ambient body. First, that is, immediate and proximate, because it must be equal to the body which it contains; internal, for if it were the external surface, it would be greater; as vessels are larger than what they contain: Lastly, it must be immovable; which is not to be understood of the real place or real surface environing the body (because this surface changes when the body changes place, or whilst the body remains unmoved the ambient air is changed every moment) but of that place or imaginary surface which encompasses the body on all sides, remaining always immovable. Which is more satisfactory then to say, as some do, that the place of bodies is immovable; although they and their surfaces' change place; because from thence to the centre and principal parts of the world there is always the same distance and respect.  
The Second said, That Aristotle showed more subtilety than truth, when in stead of defining place internally corresponding to the extension of the parts, he defined it by an outward circumference; by which account, Souls, Angels, and other spiritual substances should not be contained in a place, as 'tis certain they are (though definitively, not circumscriptively) in regard they move from one place to another. Yea the whole world should not have a place, since it cannot be contained by any thing, but contains all. 'Tis also incongruous to say, with some, that the place of the world is its centre, which is too small to design the place of so great a body; and if a point were the place of the world, the place of a Pismire should be greater than that of the world. What others say, That place is only the extension of things, cannot consist with the place of spiritual forms, which yet have a distinct extension as other corporeal forms have; and we change place every moment, although we have always the same extension. I conceive therefore, the place being relative to the thing placed aught to be defined by it, according to the nature of relatives; and so place is nothing but the space occupied by the body placed, which is that long, broad and deep interval which receives the same. Moreover, space which would be void if one body did not succeed another, hath all the conditions requisite to the nature of place. For first, 'tis nothing of the thing placed, being a pure nothing. 2. 'Tis immovable, being of itself incapable of motion. 3. 'Tis equal to the body placed, the whole space answering to the whole body, and every part to every part. 4. It receives sometimes one body, and sometimes another. And lastly, two equal spaces contain as much the one as the other.  
The Third said, That place, defined the immovable surface of an ambient body, cannot agree to the air, because its surface is not immovable. But if this immobility be meant of the whole body of the air, this inconvenience will follow, that the external surface of the air is not proportionate to the quantity of the particular body which it encompasseth. The defining of place to be the space occupied by the body placed, explicates the place of bodies, but not of incorporeal things, as the Soul and Angels, which having no extension should have no space, and, consequently, be in no place. Wherefore I conceive that place being an external affection of figure and quantity, must not be taken in the concave superficies of the body which touches, it but in the convex of that which is contained. And so this superficies will be immovable, since the quantity of the body remains the same) and always equal to the body contained without penetration, because it hath no profundity. Likewise, every body will be likewise in its own place. And as for things incorruptible and incorporeal, the Angels and the Heavens, their place will be always the extremity of their substance.  
The Fourth said, That if there were any place in nature which receives bodies, it must either be a body itself, or a vacuum. A body it cannot be, for then two absurdities will follow, namely, penetration of dimensions (one body being within another) and a progress to infinity: for place being a body, it must be in another place, this in a third, this third in a fourth, and so to infinity. Nor can it be a vacuum which receives bodies. For either this vacuum remains after the admission of a body, and so the same place will be full and empty both together; or this vacuum recedes to make place for supervening bodies; which cannot be; for than it will be capable of local motion, which is an affection and property of body. Or else, lastly, this vacuum perishes and is annihilated; which is impossible too; for than it should be subject to generation and corruption, which are found only in bodies. Wherefore if ever the Sceptics had reason to suspend their judgement, 'tis in the nature of place, which they justly doubted whether it were something or nothing.  
The Fifth said, That to doubt of place is to doubt of the clearest thing in the world, nothing being so certain as the existence of things, which cannot be but in some place. And we see a thing no sooner exists in nature but it hath its place and its station, which alone made the distinction of the parts of the world from their ancient Chaos, in which things were confused and without order, which is not found saving when every entity occupies the place due to its nature, which is preserved therein. Amongst simple bodies, Heaven hath the highest place, Fire and Air the next, Water and Earth the lowest: amongst mixts, Minerals and Metals are formed in the Entrails of the Earth; Plants and Animals are preserved upon the earth and in the air; and the centre of every thing is nothing else but its place. Wherefore as God contains in himself all the perfections of his creatures, so he is in all places by his presence, his essence, and his power.   

II. Of Hieroglyphics.  
Upon the second Point it was said, That the Ancient Sages were always curious to hide the mysteries of their learning under some obscure things; the Poets under the shell of Fables, (whom Plato and Aesop imitated;) the Pythagoreans under their Riddles; Solomon under Parables, the Chaldeans in the sacred Letters of their Cabala. But especially the Egyptians have observed this mystery. For having learned from the Jews and the Chaldeans the principal notions of the Sciences and the Deity, (the Principles whereof were taken from those famous Columns which preserved the Characters thereof after the Deluge) they transmitted the same to posterity by the figures and images of things engraven upon Pyramids and Obeliscks, whereof we still see some fragments in their Hieroglyphics, which signifies sacred and mysterious figures or sculpture, not so much for the things employed to that purpose, which oftentimes were common and natural, as for the mystical and hidden sense which they attributed to the same. The use of these figures was the more profitable, in that having some similitude and correspondence to the quality of the thing signified, they not only denoted the same, but also its nature and property. So, painting an Eye upon a Sceptre, which signified God, they intimated also his properties, by the Sceptre his Omnipotence, and by the Eye his Providence. Another advantage of these Hieroglyphics, is, that they were equally understood by all Nations of several Languages, as at this day the Chineses and Japonese make use of some Letters like Hieroglyphics, which signify rather things than words. Which would be a good way to reduce all Tongues into one, and so to facilitate all Sciences, were not this Hieroglyphical writing too diffuse. For there must be as many Characters as there are things in the World, which being almost infinite, and every day new, would render this Art endless; which hath made the use of it laid aside, as it would also be among the Chinese, were not honour which supports and feeds all other Arts annexed to this knowledge of Characters, which advances those alone who are skilled in their Letters to Magistracies and the chief charges of that great State.  
The Second said, That the signs for representing things are either Natural or Artificial. Amongst the natural, employed by men to express their conceptions, are the pictures and images of thigns; as to represent a Man or a Tree, they paint a man and a Tree; by which way Philomela described the wrong which had been done her. The Egyptians had the same design in their Hieroglyphics; but finding that it would never have an end, they in this imitated the Hebrews, who make the same Root serve to produce a great number of words, and employed one figure to signify first one thing, namely, that whose image it is, and afterwards many others wherewith it hath some affinity. So the figure of a Serpent signifies a Serpent, and the Prudence which is attributed to that animal; and because they observed, that the last day of the year joined to the first, and made a continual circle, they represented the year by a Serpent with his tail in his mouth. Upon the same ground Emblems were invented. So Alciate, to represent Fortitude and Wisdom, gives the pourtraicts of Ajax and Ulysses; to signify a good Merchant, who trusts only to what he holds, he paints a hand with an eye in the middle of it; the Fox signifies cunning; the Pismire Providence; the Bee, Policy; an earthen pot joined to an iron pot, dangerous Alliance. In brief, so many fables and fancies are so many writings after this manner; from which, to speak truth, if you abstract the reverence which is due to Antiquity, I see nothing that comes near the marvel of our Letters, which, in respect of other inventions, I cannot but compare to the Philosopher's Stone so much talked of, which whoso possesses may by its projection make as much gold as he needs to travel over the world; and those other inventions to the money, or, if you please, the provisions, which a Traveller carries with him. For these are incommodious, and serve but to one or few uses; whereas writing, by combination of sixteen several characters, (the rest being found superfluous) is sufficient to represent what ever hath been, is, may or may not be.  
The Third said, That no doubt 'twas necessity which put the Egyptians first upon the invention of Hieroglyphics, than which our Letters are much less significative, because they express not the nature of natural things, as their figures do, but only words. Yet the use of Hieroglyphics was very pernicious to the vulgar, who seeing the Attributes of God represented under the shapes of Animals and Plants, took occasion to adore those corporeal things, and became the most superstitious of all Nations, going so far as to deify garlic, onions, rats and toads. Moreover, Man's life is too short for this Art; his wit too weak to invent figures suitable to all the parts of speech diversified by numbers, cases, persons, tenses, and other Grammatical differences of words; and his memory too slippery, to retain all those figures, because they represented not one single thing, but many different; and for that one and the same thing was diversely figured; as God was expressed by an Eye, a Circle, and an Unite; Prudence by a double head, a Gorgon's head, a Crane, a Dragon, a Serpent, a fish called Scarus, or the Gilt-head, a Mulberry-tree, a Hiacynth; Royalty, by the reins of a bridle, an Elephant and a Dog; Wisdom, by the breast, or the wand of Pallas; Concord, by a Crow, a Caduceus, or Mercurius' rod, a Peacock, a Bee, and a Lute; Fear by waves, a Dove, a Hart, a Hare, and a Wolf. All which figures signified other things besides, yea, oftentimes contraries; as the Ass is the Hieroglyphic of wisdom with the Cabalists, and with us of stupidity; and the same wisdom was denoted among the Egyptians by a sieve, which with us is the emblem of a loose-tongued person that can retain nothing. In fine, this Hieroglyphical invention is good for nothing but to make the ignorant admire what they must reverence without knowing it. For that which secures all professions from contempt, is, the use of terms not understood by the vulgar.    

CONFERENCE XCVII.  
I. Of Weights, and the causes of Gravity. II. Of Coat-Armour.  

I. Of Weights, and the causes of Gravity.  
THe World is Man's Palace, whereof God is the Architect, sustaining the same with the three fingers, of his Power, Goodness, and Wisdom. And the Scripture saith, He hath hung the Earth in the midst of the Air, and ordained all things in number, weight, and Measure, which are the three pillars of this stately Edifice. Number is the cause of Beauty; Measure, of Goodness; and Weight, of Order; which is not found but in the place towards which bodies are carried by their Gravity. A quality depending upon the four first, which by their rarefaction or condensation of things cause more or less ponderosity. For light signifies nothing but less heavy; it being certain, that as the Earth gravitates in the Water, and this in the Air, so would the Air in the sphere of Fire, Fire in the Heaven of the Moon, this in the mixed, and so forwards till you come to nothing, which hath no weight because it hath no corporeity.  
The Second said, That gravity and the descent of natural bodies to the centre, cannot proceed from the predominance of terrestrial parts in mixts; since Gold, the heaviest of metals, and Mercury, which is next it, have more humidity than siccity, that is to say, more Water than Earth, in comparison of other metallic bodies; God being the most ductile, and Mercury the most fluid. So also Salt, which is heavier than wood or stone, is nothing but water cogealed, and dissolving again in a moist place. Wherefore Gravity seems rather to proceed from these three things, namely, place, comparison, and figure. Place is so considerable herein, that bodies gravitate not in their proper places, but only when they are removed from the same, and more or less proportionally to their distance. Comparison makes us judge a body light, because 'tis less heavy than an other. On the contrary, Figure makes heavy bodies light, causing Leafgold to swim, which in the same quantity reduced into a Globe would sink; and an expanded body weighs less in a balance, then when it is in a less volumn. Which is also observed of the thinner parts of the Air, which being of a more movable figure are seen to play therein when the Sun shines clear.  
The Third said, That the cause why a broader figure swims, or is upheld in the Air more easily than if it were in a Globe or other closer figure, is not, for that figure makes a thing lighter, but from the resistance of the medium, which hath more hold in one then in the other. Nor does gravity proceed from the inclination of a thing to its Centre; since the Centre is but a Point, wherein nothing can lodge. And if the Centre of the world were the Centre of heavy things, the stars which are the denser and solider parts of their orbs, and consequently, have more gravity, which necessarily follows the density of corporeal matter, especially the Moon which is demonstrated to be solid and massy, because it reflects the light of the Sun, should not remain suspended above the Air, which is lighter, but descend to this Centre of the Universe. For, to believe, with some, that the Moon is kept up like a stone in a sling by the rapid motion of the First Mover, is, to hold the Stars, the greatest and noblest part of the Universe, in a violent state, only to give rest and a natural state to the least and meanest, which is the Earth. Wherefore the descent of bodies is not because of themselves they affect the Centre of the Earth, but for that they are upon a body lighter than themselves; order obliging every thing to take its own place, and till it be so, every body being necessitated to move itself, the heaviest downwards, and the less heavy upwards. Hence water gravitates not in its channel, although it be not in its Centre; because the upper part of the water is not heavier than the lower.  
The Fourth said, That Gravity is a certain quality which carries all bodies towards a common point, continuing the union of the parts of the world, hindering Vacuity by the concentration of all bodies which press one another, the heavy having more matter in less quantity. For when we see Air mount above Water, and Fire above Air, they yield and give place to heavier bodies; as Oil being in the bottom of Water ascends to the top, not by its lightness, but by the weight of the water which thrusts it up. So Led, and all other metals, except Gold, swim in Mercury, to which they yield in gravity. For in equal quantities Gold weighs 19, Mercury 13, Led 11 and ½, Silver 10 and ⅓, Copper 9, Iron 8, and Tin 7 and ½. As for the cause of this gravity (which, some say, is in heavy bodies, others in their Centre, to which they attribute a magnetical virtue) I conceive, it consists in a reciprocal attraction of the same bodies, which draw and are drawn, and others are drawn to the inferior body which attracts with all its parts; so that bodies are carried towards the Earth, and the Earth attracts them reciprocally, as the Loadstone attracts Iron, and is attracted by it. For 'tis evident that the Loadstone draws Iron; and to prove that 'tis drawn by Iron; lay a Loadstone in one scale, and in the other an equal weight to it. If you apply Iron to the bottom of the scale where the Loadstone is, this scale will raise up the other, the Iron attracting the Loadstone to itself. On the contrary, if you approach with the Iron over the Loadstone, the scale wherein it is will ascend towards the Iron which attracts it. For whereas 'tis objected, that if the Earth attracted things with all its parts, than it would follow that things let down in some hollow of the Earth, being attracted by the parts above, and those below, would not descend by reason of contrary attractions; I answer, that those bodies being out of their Centres, the greatest and strongest part of the Earth, which is towards the Centre, would attract them to it; the stronger prevailing over the weaker.   

II. Of Coat-armour.  
Upon the Second Point 'twas said, That all Nations have been curious in enquiring into their own Antiquities, and particulars, to preserve the tokens of their Genealogy; some by Histories, others by the Images of their Ancestors, as the Romans; and others by conjoining of Hieroglyphics and Ensigns, which are our Arms, which have had the same fate as other things of the world, and from very small and plain beginnings, by increasing of Alliances, have at length composed those variegated Scutcheons, so variously quartered and counter-quartered, that it hath been needful to make an Art, called by the Latins Heraldica, and to invent new words, with particular Officers, called Kings, and Heralds of Arms, to regulate and display them: And so many races and marriages are crowded together in the narrow extent of these Scutcheons, that great rolls and long Histories can scarce explicate them at length. The Scutcheon which we first blazon hath six Fields, namely, two metals, and four colours. The metals are, Or and Argent; the colours, Azure, (which is blue) Gules, (which is red) Verd, (which is green) and Sable, (which is black) some add a fifth, Purpure, being mixed of Azure and Gules, but 'tis little or not at all used in France. The English introduce two others, Tennê which they call Orange, and Sanguine, which also are unsuall in France. Besides these colours, thereare two Furs or sorts of Fells, which adorn the Scutcheon, Ermine, of Sable upon Argent; and Vair, or Verry, of Azure upon Argent; and when these Colours are altered, than the Scutcheon must be blazoned Verry of such colours. Some Scuctheons have neither metals nor colours, and are called Whiteshields, (like those of new Knights before they have done any memorable achievement; of which Virgil speaks— Plamâque inglorius albâ) wherewith the Arms of our Maidens dying unmarried are quartered. Others have only a small Scutcheon in the middle, and this Scutcheon is said to be in the fez point. The principal parts of these Scutcheons are nine, answering to the parts of a man's face, which may be called every one's natural Scutcheon, whereinto are collected in several quarters all the titles of the nobility, and qualities, of the Soul. These parts are termed, 1. The Dexter Chief, which answers to the right Temple. 2. The Middle Chief, to the middle of the forehead. And 3. the Sinister Chief, to the left Temple. 4. The Honour point, to the root of the Nose. 5. The Fez point, to the place of the Nose. 6. The Nombril point, to the Mouth. 7. The Dexter Base, to the right Moustache. 8. The Sinister Base, to the left. And 9 The precise middle Base, to the Chin. This Scutcheon is divided sometimes into sundry sorts of colours, or metals. If it be divided in pale, or perpendicularly, 'tis called party per pale; if in fez, or athwart, 'tis said party per fez; if slopingly, 'tis said party per bend. Lastly, 'tis quartered either by crosses or gyrons, or by a Salture, which is a S. Andrews Cross; or else counter quartered, when one of its quarters is again quartered. Next are to be considered the Ordinaries, which are, 1. The Chief, which is the highest part of the Scutcheon. 2. The Pale, which divides it from the Chief to the Base perpendicularly. 3. The Fez, which cuts it athwart the Pale. 4. The Bend, which cuts from the right Angle to the Base, and is a Cotize if it be a third part less than the Bend, and a Battoon if it be two thirds less than a Cotize. 5. The Cheveron. 6. The Crosse. 7. The Saltyre. 8. The Gyrons, which form eight Triangles terminating in the Centre. There are other less principal parts, as the Flanks which divide it by the sides; the Emancheures with one or more points; the Pyle, which is a great Isosceles Triangle reversed; the Pearl, which is a kind of Y, taking up sometimes the whole Shield; the Gussets, Lozanges, Frets, and such other things as are better represented by figures then by words. These Armouries are sometimes indented, invecked, and embattled at their sides; and sometimes they are either charged or bruised with sundry figures; the former, when there is but one in the middle; charged, when they are semé all over. A Border is any thing which surrounds the Scutcheon. Some Shields are covered with divers things, diapered in form of broidery, leaves, and morisques, and fretted in fashion of Lozanges and other things. The Changes are almost infinite, there being amongst others above thirty fashions of Crosses; the Patee, which is that of Maltha; the Potencee, that of Jerusalem; the fleury, or flory; the bottony, pommettie, etc. The other more common pieces are Mascles, a sort of Lozenge voided, whereof the middle is of the colour of the field; Rustres, which are Lozanges pierced round; Billets or Parallellograms, Fusils, Bezants, which are figures of ancient Money; Torteuxes, which are like Bezants, but differ from them, inasmuch as Torteuxes are always of a colour, and Bezants always of Or or Argent. As for others, every thing in Nature fills the Shield, and hath its different blazons, if the colour of one of their parts be different from the whole. Amongst Fishes, the Whale with his tail and teeth different is said to be fierte; the Dolphin is said to be hauriant. Amongst Trees the Oak, for example, whose parts have different colours, is blazoned fuste, or branchless for the wood; accollé, or embraced, for the Ivy, foliated and fructed. The middle of Flowers is called bottonie. Amongst Birds the Eagle and Gryphon are almost alone said to be armed, that is to say, beaked and ungulated; others are said to be displayed. The Cock is said to be crested and jelloped. Lions, amongst Animals, are alone rampant; Horses in that posture are said to be frayed; Bulls, furious or mad. The Lion shows but one eye and one ear; the Leopard two, and is always passant; if he be rampant he is called Leopard Lyonné; if a Lion be passant he is called Lion Leopardé. There are Lions Naissant, which show only the head and the two fore-paws; Issuant, which show only the hinder part; Brochant, or spreading over all the field; Couped, when one body is of two colours; armed, are those whose claws are of another colour; and languid, when the tongue is so. Blazon begins always from the dexter side of the Chief; in those that are quartered saltyrewise, by the chief. If the first and last quarter be alike, they are blazoned together, beginning always with the field. There are little Scutcheons upon the principle armouries; those which are upon the fez point are said to be over all; in the chief and the base, they are said to be entez or graffed; and if there be any upon animals, as Eagles or Lions, they are said to be charged; and all Inescutcheons are always blazoned last.  
The second said, That as Nobility is the more esteemed the more obscure its original is; so the first Inventors of Arms, which are the Badges of it, seem to have affected obscurity in their terms, to render the same more recommendable to the vulgar by being less understood. Arms are composed of Images portrayed upon a ground called the Field, into which men's ambition hath introduced every thing in Nature; the Heaven, the Stars, the Air with its Birds, the Sea and its Fishes, the Earth, and whatever rarity it hath upon its surface and in its bowels; all the parts of man, and all the instruments of Arts, especially those of War, to which Armouries owe their birth: Whence the Shield or Buckler hath been chosen to receive the same, and to serve as a badge of Nobility, for the distinction of Families. And as all Nations have preferred Valour before the other Virtues, because 'tis most useful for the preservation of States; so they have destinated to it Palms, Crowns, Triumphs, and such other badges of Honour; amongst which all Nations have apprehended something of Divinity in their Shields. The Geteses made their solemnest Oaths upon them; the ancient Germans adored every one his Shield and the Moon. The Poets relate, that the fate of Troy lay in a Buckler which was kept in the Temple of their Goddess. A Buckler sent from Heaven kept the fortune of the Romans, like to which one of their Kings caused 400 to be made. Two Grecian Captains disputed the possession of Achilles' Buckler. That of Aenaeas had graven upon it all the destiny of Rome. In brief, our ancient Kings were carried upon a great Target or Shield to the solemnity of their Coronation. The highest of our Coins bears the name and figure of an Escu or Shield; and true gentry amongst us is that of Esquiers, a title drawn from Escu or a Shield. Which hinders not but that learning, and management of affairs, being ways of ennobling men, though less frequent and more difficult, deserve also to bear Arms; as we read that Charles IV. granted to Bartolus, the famous Civilian, a Lion gules, with two tails, in a field Or.  
The Third said, That some Armouries are commonly conceived to have been sent from heaven, as the Cross of Constantinople, and the Flowers de lys of France. Others are taken from memorable qualities and actions of Ancestors, as those of Austria, a Prince whereof returning out of battle covered all over with blood except his Belt, gave occasion to his descendants to bear a Fez Argent on a Shield gules. Such is the Cross of Savoy, which the Christian Princes granted to one of the Amadei, for having driven away the enemies from behind the Island of Rhodes; and the three Wings of Lorraine, because a Duke pierced three Birds flying with one arrow. Others have some correspondence or allusion to the name of the bearer; as those of Castille, Leon, Galicia, and Granada, which have a Castle, a Lion, a Chalice, and a Pomegranate. Others have distinctions for younger brothers, as a Battoon in the middle, or a Label with 2, 3, or more pendants in the Chief. Bastards commonly bear a Battoon in contrebende, that is, coming from the sinister point of the Chief to the dexter of the Base. Likewise other pieces distinguish younger brothers, as Mullets, Cressants, etc. placed in the middle of the Chief, or else at the first Quarter. But 'tis remarkable in blazoning of Arms, that Metal must always be put upon Colour, or Colour upon Metal; only Godfrey of Bovillon made his Shield of argent charged with a Cross potencé Or, and four other Corslets of the same Metal.  
The Fourth said, That being the injury of times consumes all things, the Arms or Devises of Families hath been found the best monuments to preserve their memory through many ages. This gave occasion to our Gauls (for they brought Coat-armour into greatest use, it being yet unknown to divers Nations) to engrave upon their Gates the same badges which distinguished them whilst they fought armed cap-a-pe, and could not otherwise be known: and if it happened that two Cavaliers bore the same Shield, the one would either have the life of the other, or make him alter his devise. Such an expedient as once agreed two Gentlemen, who were ready to fight because both of them bore a Bull's head, not always occurring; for they were contented with this decision, that one of them should Blazon his Coat with the head of a Bull, and the other with the head of an Ox or Cow, at his choice. Because every one was suffered, as they are at this day abusively, to choose Arms to himself; which is the cause that the handsomest Arms are the worst, as being the newest; because they are invented according to fancy. Whereas anciently, to give Arms was one of the chief rights of Sovereignty, and joined with the power of conferring Knighthood; and the advices of the noblest and ancientest Families were taken concerning the blazoning of them, as being interessed in this novelty. And as for Sovereigns, they chose the most ancient Arms they could. Those of France are found in the brain of a Cock, the Imperial Eagle in the root of Fern cut athwart. So the figure of Cheverons, Torteuxes, Lozenges, Macles, Fusils, and most other things which enter into the Field of Scutcheons, occur at every turn, and in most Trees, Stones, Fishes, and other animals: their design being that their Families should appear not less ancient than nature. It remains to give some examples of particular Blazons.  
The King of France bears two Scutcheons, The first is Azure, three Flowers de lys Or, two in chief and one in point; which is France. The second is Gules, two Chains Or, placed in orle, pale, fez, bend and bar, which is Navarre. The Supporters are two Angels, one on the right side clothed with a Coat of Arms azure, semés with Flowers de lys Or,; the other on the left, clad with the Arms of Navarre. The Crest is a double Flowers de lys.  
And to speak something of strangers, without observing any order, which would be too troublesome; Presbyter John bears azure, a Crucifix argent. The Turk bears Vert, a Crescent argent. England bears gules, three Leopards Or, armed and languid azure. Hungary bears barry, argent and gules, of eight pieces. Arragon, Or, four pales gules. Rhodes, Malta and Savoy, bear gules, a Cross argent. Flanders, Or, a Lion sables, languid gules. Artois semés of France, a lable of three pendants, chastellated with Chasteaux Or. Leon, argent, a Lion gules. Saxony, barry, Or and sable, of eight pieces, a Demy Crown or Crancelin Vert placed bend-wise. Bohemia, argent, a Lion gules, his tail nowed and passed in saltyre. Lombardy, gules a Lion Or, armed and languid sable. Florence, argent, a Flower de lies expansed gules. The great Cham of Tartary bears Or, an Owl sables. Parma, Or, six Flowers de lies azure. Sweden, azure, three Crowns Or, two in chief, and one in base. Denmark, Or, semés of Hearts gules, three Lions Leopardez azure, languid, and armed Or. Poland, gules, an Eagle argent, beaked, membered and crowned Or. Holland, Or a Lion gules. Bavaria, fuselé argent and azure, of twenty one pieces placed bendwise. Ireland, gules, a Harp Or.    

CONFERENCE XCVIII.  
I. Of the causes of Contagion. II. Of the ways of occult Writing.  

I. Of the causes of Contagion.  
Disease's, being accidents, must be divided, as other accidents, by their first subjects, which are the solid parts, the humours, and the spirits; and by their several causes; some of which are manifest, others unknown; the malignity of the causes which produce them, and the manner whereby they act, being inexplicable. Which diversity of causes depends upon those of mixtions, which are of two sorts; one, of the qualities of the elements, which makes the difference of temperaments; the other of the elementary forms, which being contrary only upon the account of their qualities, when these put off their contrariety by alteration, the forms easily become united; and as amongst qualities, so amongst forms, one becomes predominant, the actions whereof are said to proceed from an occult property, because the form which produces them is unknown to us. So Arsenic and Hemlock, besides the power which the first hath to heat, and the second to refrigerate, have a particular virtue of assaulting the heart, and killing speedily, by a property hitherto unknown. Such also are contagious and venomous diseases, some whereof are caused by the inspired air, as the Pestilence, because air being absolutely necessary to the support of our natural heat, if when it is infected with malignant and mortal vapours, it be attracted by the mouth, or the pores of the skin, it corrupts the mass of the spirits, as a crumb of bread or other extraneous bodies makes milk or wine become sour. Others infect by bodily contact, as the Itch, the Pox, the Measles, and the Leprosy. A third sort proceed from a venomous matter, either communicated outwardly, as by poison and the biting of venomous beasts, or generated in the body, as it may happen to the blood, black choler, and the other humours being extravasated.  
The Second said, That diseases proceed either from the corruption and vitiosity of particular bodies, some of which are disposed to the Pleurisy, others to the Flux, others to the Colic; called therefore sporadical, or dispersed and promiscuous diseases; or else from some common vitiosity, as of the air, aliments, waters, winds, or other such common cause, whereby many come to be seized upon by the same disease at the same time: so, after Famines, bad nourishment gives a great disposition to the Pestilence. These maladies are fixed to a certain Country, seldom extending beyond it; as the Leprosy to the Jews, the King's Evil to the Spaniards, Burstenness to Narbon, the Colic to Poitou, the Physic to the Portugals, the Pox to the Indians called by them Apua, and brought by the Spaniards into Europe; and such other diseases familiar to some particular Country, and called Endemial. Or else they are Epidemical, and not tied to a certain region, but produced by other external causes, as pestilential and contagious diseases; which (again) are either extraordinary, as the Sweating-sickness of England, the Coqueluche, which was a sort of distillation; or ordinary, which manifest themselves by purple spots, carbuncles, and buboes. But as the causes of the Smallpox and Measles are chiefly born within us, being produced of the maternal blood attracted in the womb, and cast forth by nature when become more strong, so though the seeds of contagious diseases may come from without, yet they are commonly within ourselves.  
The Third said, That Contagion is the communication of a disease from one body to another; the most violent so communicable is the Pestilence, which is defined a most acute, contagious, venomous and mortal Fever, accompanied with purple spots, Buboes and Carbuncles. 'Tis properly a species of a Fever, being a venomous and contra-natural heat kindled in the heart, manifesting itself by a high, frequent, and unequal pulse, except when nature yields at first to the violence and malignity of the disease, and then the pulse is slow, small and languishing, but always unequal and irregular. Oftentimes it kills the first or second day; scarce passes to the seventh, if it be simple and legitimate; but when 'tis accompanied with putrefaction, it reaches sometimes to the fourteenth. It's malignity appears in its not yielding to ordinary remedies which operate by their first qualities, but only to medicaments which act by occult properties; an argument that the cause of these diseases is so too. Now four things are here to be considered, 1. That which is communicated. 2. The body which communicates the same. 3. That to which it is communicated. 4. The medium through which the same is done. A thing communicated against nature, is either the disease, or the cause of the disease, or the symptom. Here 'tis the cause of the disease, which is either corporeal or incorporeal. The incorporeal, in my opinion, are the malignant influences of the Stars, as of Mars and Saturn▪ and during Comets and Eclipses. For since their benign influences preserve motion and life in all things of the world; by the reason of contraries, the malignity of the same aspects may be the cause of the diseases and irregularities which we behold in it. The corporeal cause must be movable, an humour, a vapour, or a spirit; which malignant evaporations kill oftentimes without any sign of putrefaction; or if there be any, it proceeds not from the corruption of the humours, but from the oppression and suffocation of the natural heat by those malignant vapours; and then the humours being destitute of the natural heat, and of that of the spirits which preserved them, turn into poison. There must be some proportion between the body which communicates this vapour and that which receives it; but the same is unknown to us; and this proportion is the cause that some Contagions seize only upon some animals, as Horses▪ Dogs, and Cattle; others upon Men alone, Children, Women, old Men, Women with Child and their burdens; others seize only upon certain parts, as the Itch is communicated only to the skin, the Physic to the Lungs, the Ophthalmia to the eyes, and not to the other parts. The medium of this communication is the air, which being rare and spongy is very susceptible of such qualities, which it easily transmits' by its mobility. And these qualities happen to it, either extrinsecally, as from fetid and venomous vapours and fumes exhaled from carrion, marshes, impurities, and openings of the ground by Earthquakes, which are frequently followed by the Pestilence; or else they arise in the Air itself, in which vapours may acquire a pestilential malignity, of which a hot and moist intemperature is very susceptible.  
The Fourth said, That the Pestilence is found indifferently in all seasons, climates, sexes, ages, and persons; which argues that its proximate cause is not the corruption of the humours, and intemperature of the first qualities. Otherwise the Pestilence should be as other diseases, whereof some are hot, others cold, and be cured likewise by contrary qualities. Besides, the Spirits being igneous cannot be corrupted, and the corruption observed sometimes in the humours is not essential to the Pestilence, but only accidental, and however but an antecedent cause. For if putrefaction were the conjunct cause, then putrid Fevers and the Gangrene, which is a total putrefaction, should be contagious. Wherefore it appears that the cause of this diseases are as occult as its effects are sensible; and that 'tis chiefly in this kind of malady that 'tis to be enquired, as Hypocrates speaks, whether there be not something divine. Which we are not to understand, as he doth, concerning what proceeds from the Air; seeing God threatens, in Ezechiel, to cause the third part of his people to die of the Pestilence; as in one night he caused all the first born of Egypt to perish; and in three days, under David, seventy thousand Israelites.  
The Fifth said, That to attribute the cause of the Pestilence to putrefaction, without assigning the degree of it, is to say nothing more than to recur to the properties of substance, and less than to seek it in the divine Divine Justice; these terms manifesting our ignorance, rather than the thing enquired. Moreover, the signs of this malady are all equivocal, and common to other diseases, yea, oftentimes contrary one to another; in some a pulse is violent, bleeding at the nose, thirst, the tongue dry and black, delirations, purple spots, and buboes; in others▪ a small pulse, vomiting, tongue yellow, livid, and sleepiness. And some sick are cured by remedies which kill others, as by Vomits, Purges, and bleeding. Even of Sudorificks, the most suitable to this disease, some are temperate, and others hor. So that 'tis no wonder if a disease so irregular, being known to us only by the relation of people, oftimes ignorant, the skilful being unwilling to venture themselves, makes such havoc, since the small pox and other diseases would make no less, though possibly in longer time, if they were as little understood.   

II. Of the ways of occult writing.  
Upon the Second Point 'twas said, That the Ancients deservedly reckoned secrecy amongst their fabulous Deities, under the name of Harpocrates the God of silence, since 'tis not only, as the Poet saith, the God of the master of Gods, that is, Love, but the Governor of the mysteries of Religion, the Guardian of Civil Society; and, as the Philosopher speaks, the God of the public and private Fortune, which is maintained by secrecy, the Soul of the state and business; whence cyphers, and occult ways of writing took their birth. The Hebrews were the first that practised cyphers, of which they had six sorts; L'Etbah, by transposition of Letters; Themurah, by their commutation; Ziruph, by combination and changing of their power; Ghilgal, by changing of their numeral quotitié; Notariaszon, putting one Letter or one Syllable for a word; and Gematry, which is an equivalence of measures and proportions. But these sorts of cyphers have been found too troublesome and equivocal, and besides, more recreative than solid. The truncheon encompassed with a thong, which was the Laconic Scytale, the cipher of the Lacedæmonians; that of Julius Caesar▪ who put D for A, and E for B, and so of the other Letters, and the odd figures given by others to the twenty four Letters, are too gross to be well concealed. The Dactylogie of Beda is pretty, whereby we speak as nimbly with the fingers as with the tongue, taking the five fingers of one hand for Vowels, and the several positions of the other for Consonants. But it can be used only in presence. They talk also of the same way by bells, trumpets, arquebuses, fires, torches, and other such means; but because they depend on the sight and the hearing, which act at a certain distance, they cannot be useful in all cases. The transmission of thoughts and spirits contrived by Trithemius and Agrippa, and that invention of quadrants, whereby some have phancy'd it possible to speak at any distance by help of a Loadstone, are as ridiculous as that of Pythagoras, to write with blood on a Looking-glass, and reflect the same upon the face of the Moon. For besides, that the Moon is not always in a fit position, could a fit glass be found; the writing would not be secret, because that Luminary is exposed to the Eyes of all the world. No cipher is comparable to that of writing when 'tis well contrived; to which purpose they make use of keys to cipher upon the Alphabets, which are infinite, depending upon every one's fancy; being sometimes either one Letter, or one word, or altering in the same discourse and at every word. Sometimes they divide the discourse, and one half serves for a key to the other; sometimes they put key upon key, and cipher the key itself with other keys. They put Naughts at the end of words to distinguish them, or every where amongst the Letters to deceive the Decypherer, and under these they cipher another hidden sense by other keys; yea, they insert other Naughts amongst them for a third sense, or to cause more difficulty. Some make use of numbers, abridge or multiply the Alphabet, and prepare tables wherein they put three Letters for one. In fine, humane wit hath left nothing unattempted for the concealment of thoughts under the veil of cyphers; of which, the most perfect are those which seem not to be such, hiding under a known sense, and an intelligible discourse, an other sense unknown to all others besides the correspondents; such is that of Trithemius, by those three hundred seventy five Alphabets of significative words, each expressing one single Letter.  
The Second said, All the several ways of occult writing depend either upon the matter or the form. To the first belong the sending of Swallows, Pigeons, or other birds, as also the inventions of writing with Salt Armoniac, Alumn, Camphire, and Onion, which appear only at the fire. The formal depends upon cyphers, which are framed either by the fiction of Characters, or by their commutation, using three or four Letters to write every thing, with some dashes or aspirations, which yet may be easily deciphered, by reason of the frequent repetition of the Vowels; and those which are thought impossible to be discovered, are commonly subject to great ambiguities, and so are dangerous.  
The Third said, Of the three Authors which have writ concerning this matter, Baptista Porta teaches rather to decipher then to cipher, and all his inventions are little secrets, as to write with Alumn. Those of Trithemius are very gross, of which nevertheless he hath composed three Books, the two first intelligible enough, but the third so obscure, and promising so many miracles, that Bellarmine, and many others thought it full of Sorceries, which yet are nothing but the same secrets mentioned in the two foregoing Books, but hid under more suspicious words; amongst which that of the Spirit, which is very frequent, signifies the Alphabet or the Key of the Secret, and to look under a stone and take thence a charm which the Spirit left there, or to invoke the same Spirit, signifies that you must go and take from under a stone agreed upon the cyphered letter, and decipher it by the same alphabet upon which it was cyphered. Vigenarius spends half his Book in speaking of the Cabala of the Jews, and the Chaldeans, and the other half in many Alphabets of all sorts, with Key and without: he hath indeed abundance of Ciphers which seem undecypherable, which he makes to depend on three differences. 1. On the form of Characters, which comprehends several figures, lines, and colours. 2. On their order and situation; but changing the Alphabet almost infinite ways. 3. On their value and power, giving such signification to one letter or character as you please: All which are easily known for cyphers. The second condition of a cipher, and which follows that of secrecy, being not to appear such; the least suspicion causing the stopping of the paper, and so rendering it unprofitable to the writer; which has given occasion to some to cover characters drawn in oil with something that might be washed off, besides other such inventions to take away suspicion; such as that of having two Books of the same impression, and under pretext of sending Tables of Astrology, or Merchant's Bills, to design by cyphers the letter of the Book which you mean to express, the first cipher signifying the fourth page, the second the fourth line, and the third the fourth letter of that line, which you would denote.    

CONFERENCE XCIX.  
I. Of Ignes fatui. II. Of Eunuches.  

I. Of Ignes fatui.  
'TIs a question whether 'twould be more advantageous to man's contentment to be ignorant of nothing, since than he would admire nothing, which is one of his greatest pleasures. Hence a Peasant beholding a flake of fire following him, or going before him in the night time, will be otherwise ravished with it then a Philosopher, who knows or thinks he knows the cause of it; there being little difference herein, as to our satisfaction. They conceive it to be an unctuous exhalation, apt to be inflamed, like the fatty steam of a Candle newly put out, which instantly conveys down the neighbouring light to seek its aliment: But the same example shows us, that fire very suddenly devours its aliment when it is subtle and thin: So that if a fire of straw, which is much more material than an exhalation, vanishes so quickly that we express the most transient momentary things thereby, how can a far thinner exhalation keep this foolish fire so long? which, besides, burns not, as appears by its sticking innoxiously upon the hair of men and manes of horses; and yet Aquavitae never so well rectified will sing the hair, as was sometimes verified to the great prejudice of one of our Kings; which would make me think, that as all fire is not luminous (as a hot dunghill burns your finger, and fire excited by motion burns much more without blazing) so there are some lights which are not igneous, as in Heaven the Stars, and in Earth some rotten woods, certain fishes, worms, eyes, flesh of animals, and other more such subjects, which cannot be more susceptible of those lights which burn not, than the Air which is the prime diaphanous body, and consequently most capable of receiving them; although possibly we cannot truly know what temper the Air must acquire to become luminous, no more than what is fit for it in other subjects, For to attribute the cause thereof to purity or simplicity, signifies little; for earth and ashes are more simple than the flesh, or other part, dead or living, of an Animal; and yet this shines, and those not.  
The Second said, That these fires may be referred to four sorts. The first resemble falling Stars or lighted Torches, which Plutarch saith were seen to fall upon Pompey's Camp the eve before the Battle of Pharsalia. The second is that kind of flame which has appeared upon the heads of some, as of Ascanius in Virgil, and of Servius Hostilius; which was an omen to them of Royalty. The third are those which appear at Sea about the Masts and Shrouds of the Ships, named by the Ancient, Castor and Pollux when they are two, and when but one, Helena; and by the Moderns, the fire of S. Elm. The last are those which are seen in the Country in the night time, and are thought to drive or draw Travellers into precipices. As for the first, 'tis certain that the same exhalation which makes Comets in the highest Region of the Air, and Thunders in the middlemost, is also the matter of these falling Stars, and being raised in small quantity from the earth is condensed by the cold of the middle Region, where finding no cloud strong enough to uphold it, 'tis inflamed by the antiperistasis of its contrary, or the swift motion of its fall, by reason of its great heat and siccity. And as they proceed from the same cause as dry winds do, so they presage winds and drought▪ especially in that quarter from whence they fall. But as for the other sorts, I conceive they are only lights, and not fires: For the Air being transparent, and the first subject of Whiteness, as Aristotle saith, hath likewise in itself some radical light, which is sustained by that of the Stars which shine in the night. And this whiteness of the Air is proved by the appearance of it when 'tis enclosed in moist bodies, as in froth, snow, and crystal; which whitness is very symbolical to light, which it preserves and congregates, as is seen by the same snow in a very dark night: Yea, to speak plainly, whiteness is nothing else but light extinct, luminous bodies appearing white near a greater light, and white luminous in darkness. So 'tis possible that the thinner parts of the Air being enclosed in these unctuous vapours, they appear enlightened and shining, as well by reason of the condensation of its body as the inequality of its surfaces; like a diamond cut into several facets; or as the Stars appear luminous only by being the denser parts of their Orbs. And this kind of light has been seen upon the heads of children, whose moister brain exhaled a vapour proper for it; such also as that is which forms the Will-i'th'-Wisp, which may also proceed from the reflection of the Starlight from the Sea, or Rocks: For, That two of these fires bided good to Seamen, and one ill, is but one of the superstitions of Antiquity; unless you think that the greater number of fires argues greater purity of the Air, and consequently less fear of tempest.  
The Third said, He accounted the common opinion more solid, which teacheth two material principles of all Meteors, Vapour and Exhalation; but one and the same efficient, the heat of the Sun, which lifts the thinner parts of the water in a vapour, and those of the earth in an exhalation; the former hot and moist, the latter hot and dry, borrowing their heat from an extraneous heat; but vapour hath humidity from the water, and exhalation siccity from the earth; yet this siccity must be joined with some unctuosity to admit the heat, which acts not upon bodies destitute of all humidity, as the driest ashes are not altered by the hottest fire. The driest and least unctuous of these Exhalations are in the middle Region transformed into winds and tempests, in the entrails of the earth they cause Earthquakes; and if they be somewhat more unctuous they make subterranean fires; in the upper Region they form Comets, and in the lower our Ignes fatui, which are different, according to the divers coition of their matter, in length, breadth, or circularly; whence comes the difference of these Meteors called falling Stars, Flames, leaping Goats, flying Dragons, Beams, Lances, Javelins, and other like names, from the figure of their matter. Yet all these differences are chiefly taken from the magnitude, figure, colour, time, motion, and place of these fires. Magnitude, because some are large and spacious, others very small. Their figure comes from chance; their colour from the mixture, rarity, or density of the matter. Their time is chiefly the night, being then most visible. Their place, from the Heaven of the Moon to the centre of the Earth. Their motion according to the six differences of place, and the situation of their subject: Hence they pursue those that fly them, and on the contrary fly before those that pursue them; whereupon the ignorant vulgar takes them for evil spirits, because they drive and lead them into precipices and bogs, which is from their following the unctuous matters which they exhale from those places; whence also they commonly appear near places of execution, and Churchyards.   

II. Of Eunuches.  
Upon the Second Point 'twas said, That the Canons make three sorts of Eunuches; the natural, the factitious, and the voluntary; congruously to our Lord's division in the Gospel, that some are born, others are made by men, and others make themselves Eunuches for the Kingdom of Heaven; which is no more to be taken literally then the plucking out of the eyes, or the cutting off of the hands when they offend us; but mystically, for those who voluntarily renounce the pleasures of the flesh. Their original is as ancient as the Law of Nations, whereby the Conquerors giving law to the conquered changed the punishment of killing them into mutilation of some members, and amongst the rest of these, to make them more faithful and affectionate by depriving them of the means of getting children, and more trusty in keeping of their goods and wives. Hence they have come to be so highly esteemed, that not only the Emperors of Constantinople, the Kings of Egypt, Persia and Chaldea, have entrusted them with the management of all their affairs; but also, in the Roman Empire, an Eunuch Slave was valued at five times as much as another. Besides that their purity has qualified them amongst the Heathen for Priests of their Deities; amongst which the Goddesses Isis and Cybele admitted no other, which possibly, by antiphrasis, were called Galli. Even in Christianity, the Eunuch of the Queen Candace was the first Gentile called to the light of the Gospel; the expressions whereof Origen understanding literally castrated himself, by an example so singular that St. Jerome chose rather to admire, then to blame the greatness of his courage.  
The Second said, If it be true, that good consists in the perfection of all parts, and evil in their least defect, the deficiency of those necessary to the conservation of the species is the greatest of all, since it devests us of the noble quality and character of man, which an Eunuch is no longer, nor yet a Woman, but something less then both. And as the propagation of men is an effect of the divine benediction at the beginning of the World, so the barrenness and impotence of Eunuches, contrary to that fruitfulness, is abhorred by all the world, and was taken by the Jews for a curse. Moreover, Nature which is the principle of motions and generations, seems to disown those who want the parts requisite to this action. The Laws forbid them the privilege of adoption, and most Offices and Dignities. God himself, in the old Law, prohibited them entrance into his Church; and in the New the Church forbids them the use of her Sacraments, namely, Orders and Marriage. Nor is it any wonder, since every thing in nature is fruitful, even accidents reproducing their species, which are so many generations. Wherefore finding no place among natural things, nor in the Categories, it follows that they are monsters. The Emperor Adrian extended the penalty of the Law Cornelia against those who make Eunuches, or consent any way thereunto, L. 4. S. ad. L. Corn. And before him the Praetors had introduced divers actions touching this matter; as the action of Injuries, of the Edict of the Aediles, and of Quadruple in the Law, 27. S. ad leg. Aquil. And, lastly, the Emperor Constantine expressly interdicted Castration in all the Empire, under pain of life, and others contained in two Laws, De Eunuchis, in the Code.  
The Third said, That whether you consider Eunuches in reference to the body or the mind, they are happier than others. They are out of danger of being gouty and bald, two maladies, whereof the one extremely torments a man, and the other dishonours him; and it cures the most horrible of all maladies, the Leprosy. On the other side, it puts the same difference between the manners of men as it doth between untractable horses and others. Hence the Castrated are more pleasant company; and to contribute thereunto Nature has afforded them the grace of a delicate voice all their lives, which forsakes children as soon as they come to puberty: and being exempted from the diseases which the excess of Venery brings to others they are longer-lived, and more easily bear the excess of wine. They are delivered from the cruel servitude of lust, and all the other passions which attend it. And in recompense of those parts wherewith Asses and Mules are better provided then men, they are early furnished with wisdom and continence, which (as the example of Susanna's old Lovers shows) happens later to man then grey hairs. Moreover, Eunuches have a fit temper for goodness of wit, which, according to some, occasioned the Greek name Eunuch, and not their charge of guarding the bed, and observing the deportments of Wives; whole subtlety and infidelity may delude their Husbands, but could never deceive the vigilance of these Argusses; who in this alone show what they can do, since they have the skill to govern that sex which is indisciplinable by all other.    

CONFERENCE C.  
I. Of the Green-Sickness. II. Of Hermaphrodites.  

I. Of the Green-sickness.  
AS women have commonly more defects in mind, so their bodies are subject to more diseases than those of men; amongst which this is called Love-sickness, because it ordinarily happens to marriageable Virgins, and the Green-sickness (by Hypocrates, Chlorosis) from a colour between green and livid, which it imprints upon the countenance. Yet, besides this change of the natural colour, which is red, it hath divers other symptoms, whereof the chief are a perverse appetite, called Malacia or Pica, Nauseousness, Tension of the Hypochondres, faintings and palpitations of the heart, difficulty of breathing, sadness, fear, languishing, weakness, and heaviness of all the members, an oedematous humour, or bloatiness of the feet and the whole face: of which accidents those of the alteration of colour being the most perceptible, and the pathognomonical signs of this disease have with the vulgar given the denomination to it. This malady is not to be slighted, as people imagine; being sometimes so violent, that the peccant humours being carried to the head render the Maidens distracted and mad; yea sometimes they die suddenly of it, the heart and its vital faculty being stifled and oppressed by it. For this symptom hurts not only the functions of one part or faculty, but invades the whole oeconomy, causing an evil habit, which degenerates into a Dropsy; especially, that which the Physicians call Leucophlegmatia or Anasarca, when the flesh like a sponge imbibes and attracts all the aqueous and excrementitious humidities. The antecedent and prime cause of this malady is the suppression of the menstrual blood; the conjunct and proximate is the collection of crude and vicious humours in all the parts of the body which they discolour. Now when the blood which serves in women for the principle of generation becomes burdensome to nature, either by its quantity, or its quality (which happens commonly at the age of puberty) she expels it by the vessels of the womb; which if they be stopped, that blood mingled for the most part with many other excrementitious humours which it carries along with it, as torrents do mud, returns the same into the trunk of the hollow Vein, from thence into the Liver, Spleen, Mesentery, and other Entrails, whose natural heat it impairs, and hinders their natural functions, as concoction and sanguification, and so is the cause of the generating of crude humours; which being carried into all the parts of the body, are nevertheless assimilated and so change their natural colour. Of which causes which beget those obstructions in the Vessels of the Matrix, the chief are, a phlegmatic and viscous blood commonly produced by bad food, as Lime, Chalk, Ashes, Coals, Vinegar, Corn, and Earth, which young Girls purposely eat to procure that complexion, out of a false persuasion that it makes them handsomer. Yet this malady may happen too from a natural conformation, the smallness and closeness of the aforesaid Vessels; whence the fat and phlegmatic (as the pale are) are more subject to it then the lean and brown.  
The Second said, 'Tis an opinion so universally received that the Green-sickess comes from Love, that those who fight under his Standards affect this colour, as his liveries. But 'tis most appropriate to Maidens, as if nature meant to write in their faces what they so artificially conceal, and supply for their bashfulness by this dumb language. Whereunto their natural Constitution conduecs much, being much colder than that of men; which is the cause that they beget abundance of superfluous blood, which easily corrupts, either by the mixture of some humour, or for want of free motion (like standing waters, and enclosed air) and infects the skin, the universal Emunctory of all the parts, but especially that of the face, by reason of its thinness and softness. And as obstructions are the cause, so opening things are the remedies of this malady; as the filings of Steel prepared, Sena, Aloes, Myrrh, Safron, Cinnamon, roots of Bryony and Birthworth, Hyssop, wild Mecury, the leaves and flowers of Marigold, Broom flowers, Capers, etc.  
The Third said, That the vulgar opinion, that all Green-sickness is from Love, is a vulgar error. For though the Poet writes that every Lover is pale, yet hatred causes paleness too; and the consequence cannot be well made from a passion to a habit. Besides, little Girls of seven and eight years old are troubled with this disease, and you cannot think them capable of love; no more than that 'tis through want of natural purgation in others after the age of puberty; for women above fifty years old, when that purgation ceases, have something of this malady. Yea men too have some spices of it sometimes; and yet the structure of their parts, being wholly different from that of females, allows not the assigning of the same cause in both. Yea did the common conceit hold good that those who have small vessels, and (as such) capable of obstruction, are most subject to it; yet the contrary will follow to what is inferred to their prejudice. For they will be the less amorous, because the lesser vessels have the lesser blood, which is the material cause of Love, to which we see sanguine complexions are most inclined.   

II. Of Hermaphrodites.  
Upon the second Point 'twas said, That if Arguments taken from the name of the thing be of good augury, Hermaphrodites must have great advantage from theirs, as being compounded of the two most agreeable Deities of Antiquity, Mercury or Hermes, the Courtier of the Gods, and Venus or Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love; to signify the perfection of both sexes united in one subject. And though 'tis a fiction of the Poets that the Son begotten of the Adultery of Mercury and Venus was both male and female; (as well as that of the Nymph Salmacis, who embraced a young man who was bathing with her so closely that they became one body) yet we see in Nature some truth under the veil of these Fables. For the greatest part of infects and many perfect animals have the use of either sex. As the Hyaena, by the report of Appian, one year does the office of a male, and the next of a female; as the Serpent also doth, by the testimony of Aelian; and as Aristotle saith, the Fish named Trochus; and 'tis commonly said that the Hare impregnates itself. Pliny mentions some Nations who are born Hermaphrodites, having the right breast of a Man, and the left of a Woman. Plato saith, that Mankind began by Hermaphrodites, our first Parents being both Male and Female, and that having then nothing to desire out of themselves, the Gods became jealous of them, and divided them into two; which is the reason that they seek their first union so passionately, and that the sacred tye of Marriage was first instituted. All which Plato undoubtedly learned out of Genesis; For he had read where 'tis said, (before Eves formation, or separation from Adam is mentioned) That God created Man, and that he created Male and Female.  
The Second said, That Natural Reason admits not Hermaphrodites; for we consider not those who have only the appearances of genital parts which Nature may give them, as to Monsters two Heads, four Arms, and so of the other parts, through the copiousness of matter; but those who have the use and perfection of the same, which consists in Generation. For Nature having never put into the same subject an internal and radical principal of two contrary desires, as that of Man is to that of Woman, (the one consisting in action, the other in passion; the one in giving, the other in receiving) they cannot belong to one single individual; which should also be both Agent and Patient, contrary to the common Axiom founded upon the first Principle, that a thing cannot be and not be at the same time. Moreover, the qualities of the Genitures being contrary, that of the Woman cold and moist, and that of the Man hot and dry, they cannot meet in the same subject in so excellent a degree as is required to generation. For the strength divided is never so vigorous as united, especially when its subjects are different. No Hermaphrodites ever used both sexes perfectly, but at least one of them weakly and abusively; and consequently, they are justly punished by the Laws. For were both parts equally fit for Generation, 'twere contrary to policy to hinder them from using the same, propagations being the chief Nerves of a State. But these people are obliged to make choice of one Sex, that by this election it may be konwn which they exercise best, and may be prohibited the abuse of the other.  
The Third said, There's nothing in Nature so disunited, but is rejoined by some medium. As there are Spirits apart, and Bodies apart, so there are animated Bodies consisting of both. Amongst beasts, Leopards, Mules, Dogs, and many others, partake of two different Natures; the Bat is between a beast and a bird, as Frogs, Ducks, and other amphibious creatures, partly Fish, and partly Terrestrial Animals. The Bonaretz is a plant and an animal; the Mushroom is between earth and a plant. So since there is Man and Woman, there may also be some nature containing both. As to the cause of them, besides nature's general inclination to reunite different things, it seems that the same which produces monsters produces also Hermaprodites, especially when the matter is more than needs a single Man or Woman, and too little for two. Nature herein imitating a Founder, who casting his metal in a mould, if there be any overplus, it sticks to the Piece which he intended to form. Unless you had rather say, that if both the seeds be of equal power, and neither predominant over the other, the Formative Virtue than produces both sexes, which it would have distinguished into two Twins, had there been matter sufficient for two Twins. Whereunto also the Imagination of the Mother may also contribute. For since some have been born with Virilities sticking at the end of their Nose, and other places of the Countenance, Nature seems less extravagant when she places them in their true situation; there being no likelihood, in the Astrologers account, that the conjunction of Mercury and Venus in the eight house (which they assign to births) is the cause hereof.  
The Fourth said, That Hermaphrodites being of those rare and extraordinary effects, which fall no more under Law then under Reason, 'tis very difficult to assign the true natural causes of them. Yea, if there be nothing less known than forms, and their original, even when Nature acts regularly, we cannot but be more at a loss in the combinations of forms and species, and coupling of sexes, which are deviations from the rule of Nature. Hermaphrodites, who have both sexes, are of four sorts; for they have Virilities in the ordinary place, and muliebrities either in the perinaeum, or the scrotum; or else the feminine parts being in their right place, the masculine appear above them, as is seen many times in Goats; or lastly, the Virilities lying hid in the middle of the other, at length come forth, as has happened to many Girls and Women turned into Men; as to Marie german, by the relation of Montagne; to Arescon, a Native of Argos, who was surnamed Arescusa, according to Martianus. And Hypocrates affirms, in 6. Epid. that a Woman named Phaetusa, who after she had had Children by her Husband Pytheus the Abderite, this her Husband being long absent from her, she came to have a beard, and the other badges of virility. The same he also testifies to have happened to Namysia, the wife of Gorippus, in the Isle of Thasus. Of which effects we shall easily find the reason, if we say, with Galen, that Woman is an imperfect Animal, and a fragment of Mankind; and so 'twill be no wonder to see a Woman become a Man, then to see all other things acquire the perfection due to their Nature, which they ought to attain, lest their inclination thereunto be in vain. Moreover, 'tis certain, that a Woman desires a Man, as Matter doth Form; Power, Act; Imperfection, Perfection; Deformity, Beauty; in a word, the Female the Male; Nature affording us many examples of these changes of sexes, and metamorphoses. So Metals and Elements are turned one into another; Wheat into Cockle; Rye into Wheat; Barley into Oats; Origanum into Wild Thyme; Sisymbrium into Mint. Which caused Anaxagoras to say, That every thing is in every thing. According to which principle, the Male is actually in his Female; and Hermaphrodites are no more, saving 'tis more conspicuous. So that the Ancients left us some truths under the figures of a god Lunus and the Moon, and of a bearded Venus, to whom the Dames of Athens sacrificed in men's clothes.  
The Fifth said, That the transmutation of sexes is impossible by reason of the diversity of the Genitories in Men and Women, which is greater than is here fit to be displayed. But those Maidens who have been thought to change their Sex, were Hermaphrodites, who retained the marks of the Feminine sex only till a certain age, as that of Puberty, when the increased heat driving the Virilities forth did the same thing as it doth in Children, whom it enables to speak at a certain age. Unless you will say, that the Clitoris caused the mistake by its resemblance; as it happens in that symptom called by Aegineta, Cereosis, or Cauda, which makes Tribades pass for Hermaprodites. The change of Men into Women, (not like that of Nero, and Sardanapalus) but of Tiresias mentioned by the Poets, is more impossible; unless they supposed that some causes destroying the heat of the Genital parts, and weakening the strength, the Virilities came to wither and retire inwards, as the Umbilical vessels do after the faetus is born; and that Nature conformed to the cold temper superven'd in the whole body.     
FINIS.