The Idiot IN FOUR BOOKS. The first and second of Wisdom. The third of the Mind. The fourth of statick Experiments, Or experiments of the Balance.  
By the famous and Learned C. Cusanus.  
LONDON, Printed for William Leake, and are to be sold at the sign of the Crown in Fleetstreet, between the two Temple Gates, 1650.   

THE FIRST BOOK  
wherein The speakers are 

The Author.  
The Idiot.  
The Orator.    Author. 
IN the Roman forum or Market place, a certain poor Idiot, or private man, met a very rich Orator, whom courteously smiling he thus spoke unto.  Idiot. 
I marvel of thy pride, that being wearied with continual reading of innumerable books, thou art not yet led to humility: without doubt this proceeds from nothing else, but that the knowledge of this world, (wherein thou thinkest thou excellest all other) is a certain foolishness before God, and thereupon pusses men up, whereas true knowledge humbles them; I could wish thou wouldst apply thyself thereto, because there is the treasure of gladness.  Orator. 
What presumption is this of thee poor Idiot & utterly ignorant, that thou thus undervaluest the study of learning, without which no man profiteth or advanceth himself.  Idiot. 
It it not presumption great Orator, but charity which will not suffer me to keep silence; for I see thee given to seek wisdom, by much; but vain labour, from the which if I could call thee bacl, so that thou thyself mightest see thine error, I know thou wouldst rejoice that the snare were broken, and thyself escaped; the opinion of authority hath perverted thee, and made thee like an horse, which being free by Nature, is by art tied to the Manger with a halter, where he eats nothing but what is given him; for thy understanding being bound to the authority of writers is fed with strange, and not natural food.  Orator. 
If the food of wisdom be not in the books of wise Men, where is it?  Idiot. 
I do not say it is not there, but that the natural food is not there found; for they that first applied themselves to write of Wisdom, had not their increase and nourishment from the food of books, which as yet were not: but by a natural nourishment were brought unto the state of perfect men, and certainly they did far exceed in wisdom all those that think they have profited by books.  Orator. 
Although peradventure, some things may be known without the study of Letters, yet difficult and great matters cannot possibly, seeing that sciences increased by additions.  Idiot. 
This is that I said, that thou art led by authority, and so deceived; some body hath written this and thou believest him; but I say unto thee, that wisdom cryeth out in the streets, and her cry is how she dwelleth in the highest.  Orat. 
By that which I hear, it seems thou thinkest thyself wise being indeed an Idiot.  Idiot. 
This is, it may be, the difference between thee and me; thou thinkest thyself wise, when thou art not, and hereupon art proud; but I know myself an Idiot; and hereupon am more humble, and in this peradventure more learned.  Orator. 
How canst thou being an Idiot, be brought to the knowledge of thy ignorance?  Idiot. 
Not by thy books, but God's books.  Orator. 
Which are they?  Idiot. 
Those which he wrote with his own finger.  Orator. 
Where are they to be had?  Idiot. 
Every where.  Orator. 
Then in this market place.  Idiot. 
Yes, for I said that wisdom cries out in the streets.  Orator. 
I would feign know how.  Idiot. 
If I could see thee desirous to learn, and yet not out of curiosity, I would reveal great matters unto thee.  Orator. 
But canst thou do it in brief, that I may have a taste of thy meaning?  Idiot. 
I can.  Orator. 
Let us then withdraw ourselves a little out of the way, into this next barber's shop; there we may sit and talk more quietly.  Aut. 
It pleased the Idiot, and so in they went, and turning their faces to the market place, the Idiot thus began his Speech.  Idiot. 
Because I told thee that wisdom cries out in the streets, and her cry is, that she dwells in the most high places, this now will I endeavour to show thee. And first tell me what dost thou see here done in the Market place?  Orator. 
I see in one place monies telling, in another wares a weighing, and over against us, oil a measuring, and other things.  Idiot. 
These are the works of that reason, by which men excel beasts; for bruit beasts can neither number, weigh, nor measure. Now be well advised Orator, and tell me by what, and in what these things are done.  Orator. 
By discretion or discerning.  Idiot. 
Thou sayest well; and by what things doth discretion number? Is it not by one?  Orator. 
How meanest thou?  Idiot. 
Is not one once one? two twice one? three thrice one, and so forward?  Orator, 
It is so.  Idiot. 
Therefore all numbering is done by one.  Orator. 
So it seems.  Idiot. 
As than one is the beginning of Number, so is the least weight the beginning of weighing; and the least measure the beginning of measuring. Let therefore the least weight be called an ounce, and the least measure an inch; then, as we number by one, so we weigh by an ounce, and measure by an inch; so also from one is numbering, from an ounce weighing, and from an inch measuring; so likewise in one is numbering, in an ounce weighing, and in an inch measuring; are not these things so?  Orator. 
Yea.  Idiot. 
But by what may we attain or reach unto unity? by what an ounce? and by what an inch?  Orator. 
That I cannot tell, yet sure I am that unity is not reached by number, because number is after one; so neither an Ounce by weight, nor an inch by measure.  Idiot. 
Thou sayest very true Orator; for as that which is simple is in nature before that which is compound; so the compound is in nature after the simple. And therefore the compound cannot measure the simple, but quite contrary; from whence we gather how that by which, of which, and in which, every thing numerable is numbered, is not attingible by any number: and that by which, of which, and in which, every thing ponderable is weighed, is not attingible by weight; and likewise that by which, of which, and in which, every measurable thing is measured, is not attingible by measure.  Orator. 
This I see clearly.  Idiot. 
Translate then this cry of wisdom in the streets into the highest where wisdom dwells, and thou wilt find much more delectable things, then in all thy trimest and bravest books.  Orator. 
Unless thou, expound thy meaning, I understand thee not.  Idiot. 
And unless thou entreat me affectionately, and from thy heart, I am forbidden to do it, for the secrets of wisdom must not be opened to all men promiscuously.  Orator. 
I much desire to bear thee; for the few things I have already heard have inflamed me; the things which thou hast premised, show some great matter behind; therefore I earnestly beseech thee go forward with that thou hast begun.  Idiot. 
I know not whether I may easily reveal so great secrets, and make manifest so profound a depth; yet I cannot forbear, but that I must needs comply with thee. Behold brother, the highest wisdom is this, to know how in the said similitude, that which is inattingible, may be reached, or attained inattingibly.  Orator. 
Thou speakest wonders and discords.  Idiot. 
This is the cause, why hidden things ought not to be communicated unto all, because when they are laid open they seem gross absurdities unto them: Thou woundrest why I speak things that contradict one another; thou shalt hear and taste the truth. And I say, that what I have before affirmed of Unity, an ounce, and an inch, must likewise be affirmed of all things concerning the beginning of all things; for the beginning of all things, is that by which, in which, and of which, every thing principiable, is principiated (that is every thing that may have a beginning, hath a beginning) and yet attingible by nothing principiated. That is it, by which, in which, and of which, every intelligible thing is understood, and yet itself inattingible by any understanding, that is it by which, in which, and of which, every thing that may be spoken, is said, and yet itself unspeakable by any language. So is it that by which, in which, and of which, every terminable thing is determined, and every limitable thing limited, and yet itself interminable by any term; unlimitable by any limit. Innumerable such like true propositions mayest thou make, and fill therewith all volumes of Orators, and add unto them others without numbers that thou may see how wisdom dwelleth in the highest; for that is highest, that cannot be higher; and only infinity is that height. Whereupon wisdom (which all men by nature desire to know, and consequently seek for with so great affection of the mind) is no otherwise known, then that it is higher than all knowledge, and utterly unknowable, and unspeakable, by all language, and unintelligible by all understanding, and unmeasurable by all measure, and unlimitable by all limits, and interminable by every term, and improportionable by every proportion, and incomparable by all comparison, and infigurable by all figuration, and unformable by all formation, and unmoveable by all motion, and unimaginable by all imagination, and insensible by all sensation, and unattractable by all attraction, and untastable in all taste, and unhearable in all hearing, and invisible in all sight, and unapprehendable in all apprehension, and unaffirmable in all affirmation, and undeniable in all negation, and undoubtable in all dubitation, and unopinable in all opinion; and because in all speech it is unexpressible, there can no end be devised of these speeches, being incogitable in all cogitation by which, in which, and of which are all things.  Orator. 
Without doubt these things are higher than ever I hoped to have heard from thee; cease not I pray thee, to conduct me thither, where I with thee may most sweetly taste some of these high and sublime speculations: for I see thou art never satisfied with speaking of that wisdom, and I cannot but think there is exceeding sweetness in it, which except thou feltest in thy inward taste, it would not so much allure thee.  Idiot. 
It is wisdom which tasteth, than which there is nothing sweeter to the understanding. Neither are they by any means to be thought wise, which speak by word and not by taste. And they speak feelingly of wisdom, which by it do so know all things, that they know nothing at all; for by wisdom, and in it, and of it, is all internal relishing and taste; but it, because it dwelleth in the highest, is not tastable by any relish or taste. Therefore it is untastably tasted, inasmuch as it is higher than all tastable, sensible, rational, or intellectual. And this is to taste untastably, and afar of, as if the smelling a thing should be called an untastable fore-taste; for as the odour multiplied from the thing that is odorable, taken or received by another, allureth us to the race, to run to the ointment in the smell of the ointments; so the eternal and infinite wisdom shining in all things, inviteth us, by a certain foretaste of its effects, to be carried to it with a wonderful desire: for whereas life itself is an intellectual spirit, which hath in itself a certain con-nate fore-taste, whereby it doth, with so great desire, search for the fountain of its life which without that fore-taste, it could neither feeke nor know itself to have received, if it found it; hence it is, that it is moved to its proper life; for it is sweet unto every spirit continually to ascend to the principle or beginning of life, though it be unapprochable; for this is continually to live more & more happily, to ascend more and more to life; and when by seeking its life, it is brought thither, that it sees it the infinite life, than it somuch more rejoiceth, by how much more it sees its life immortal, & so it comes to pass, that the unapprochablenesse and incomprehensibility of its life, is its most desired and longed for comprehension, as if a man had a great treasure of his life, and should come to this, that he knew that treasure of his to beinnumerable, unweighable, and unmeasurable, this knowledge of the incomprehensibility is his most pleasant and wished for comprehension, not as it relates to the comprehendor, but to the most lovely treasure of his life; as if any man should love any thing because it were lovely, he would be glad, that in the lovely there should be found infinite and inexpresible causes of Love. And this is the lovers most joyful comprehention, when he comprehends the incomprehensible loveliness of the thing beloved; for he would not so much rejoice to love any second loved object, that were comprehensible, as when it appears unto him that the loveliness of the thing beloved is utterly unmeasurable, undeterminable, and wholly incomprehensible. This is that I may so say the joy-joyfullest comprehensibility of incomprehensibility.  Orator. 
Peradventure I understand thee; thou shalt judge whither I do or no; for this seems to be thy intention, that our beginning by which, in which, and of which, we are and are moved, is then tasted by us, as the beginning, middle, and end, when its vital sweetness is untastably tasted by the affection, and incomprehensibly comprehended by the understanding; and that he that goes about by way of taste to taste it, and comprehensibly to comprehend it, is utterly without either taste or understanding.  Idiot. 
Thou hast rightly understood me, Orator; for therefore they that think wisdom nothing else then that which is by the understanding comprehensible, and happiness nothing else then that which is by them attingible, are fare from true eternal, and infinite wisdom, but are turned to that which is finite, finding a certain determinable rest, where they think the gladness of life to be, but it is not. Hereupon finding themselves deceived, they are in torment, because where they thought happiness was, unto which they turned themselves with all their power, there they find sorrow and death; for infinite wisdom is the never failing food of life, of which our spirit lives eternally, which can love nothing but Wisdom and truth, for every understanding desires being; it's being is living, its living is understanding, its understanding is to be fed with wisdom and truth, whereupon it followeth that the understanding which tasteth not clear wisdom, is as an eye in darkness; for it is an eye, but it sees not, because it is not in the light, and because it wants the delightful life which is in seeing, it is therefore in pain and torment, and this is death rather than life; so the understanding being turned to any other thing then the food of eternal wisdom, shall find itself without or besides life, wrapped up in the darkeness of ignorance, rather dead then alive; and this is the interminable torment, that the understanding should have a being, and yet never understand; for it is only the eternal wisdom in which every understanding can understand.  Orator. 
Thou tellest me things both good and rare, now proceed I pray thee, to show how I may be lifted up to some manner of taste of eternal wisdom.  Idiot. 
The eternal wisdom is tasted in every tastable thing; it is delight in every delightful thing. It is the beauty in every thing beauteous. It is the appetite in everyappetible thing, & so say of all desirable things, how can it choose then but be tasted? is not thy life pleasant to thee when it is according to thy desire.  Orator. 
Yes, nothing more?  Idiot. 
Seeing then this thy desire is not but by the eternal wisdom, in which and of which it is, and this happy life likewise, which thou desirest is not but from the same eternal wisdom, in which it is, and without which it cannot be, hence it followeth that in all the desire of intellectual life, thou desirest nothing else then the eternal wisdom, which is the compliment of thy desire, the beginning, middle, and end thereof. If therefore this desire of immortal life, that thou mayest live eternally happy, be sweet unto thee, thou dost already find within thyself a certain fore-taste of the eternal wisdom; for there is nothing desired that is utterly unknown, as among the Indians there are apples, whose foretaste because we have not, we do not desire them; but being we cannot live without nourishment; nourishment we desire, & of nourishment we have a certain fore-taste that we may live sensibly; therefore a child having a certain fore-tafte of milk in his own nature, when he is hungry is moved unto milk; for we are nourished, by those things of which we are. So the understanding hath its life from the eternal wisdom, and of that it hath (such as it is) a certain fore-taste, whereupon in all feeding, which, that it may live, is necessary unto it, it is not moved but to be fed from thence, from whence it hath this intellectual being. If therefore in all thy desire of intellectual life thou wouldst mark from whom the understanding is, by what it is moved, and to what; thou wouldst find in thyself, that it is the sweetness of eternal wisdom, which makes thy desire so sweet and delightful unto thee, that thou art carried with an unspeakable affection to the comprehension of it, as unto the immortality of thy life.  
And if thou look upon the example of iron, and the loadstone, thou shalt find that the iron hath in the loadstone a certain beginning of his effluence, or flowing out; And whilst the loadstone, by its presence stirs up the heavy and ponderous iron, the iron with a wonderful desire is carried contrary to the motion of nature by which for its heaviness it ought to press downwards, & is moved upwards by uniting itself to its principle: for except there were in iron a certain natural fore-taste of the loadstone, it would no more be moved to the loadstone than to any other stone; and except there were in the stone a greater inclination to iron than to copper there would not be that attraction and drawing.  
Our intellectual spirit hath accordingly from the eternal wisdom, a principle or beginning of being so intellectually, which being is more conformable unto wisdom, than any other not intellectual being. Hence the irradiation or immission into a holy Soul, is in the stirring up a desireful motion: for he that by an intellectual motion seeketh wisdom, he being inwardly touched to the fore-tasted sweetness, forgetting himself, it is received in the body, as if he were without the body; the weight of all sensible things cannot hold him until he unites himself to the attracting wisdom: and this makes the soul that by an amazing admiration forsakes the sense, grows so mad that it makes no account of aught else besides that wisdom, and to such a one it is sweet to leave this world, and this life, that they may the more readily be carried into the wisdom of immortality.  
This foretaste makes that which appeareth delightful, abominable to holy men, who the sooner to attain unto it, do most evenly and patiently bear all corporal torments. It instructeth us, that this our spirit being turned unto it, can never fail; for if this our body cannot by any sensible ligament or tie, hold the spirit? but that letting go all performance of duties to the body, it is most greedily carried to that eternal wisdom; then surely though the body fail, it can never fail; for this assimilation and likeness, which is naturally in our spirit, by which it is not quieted but in that wisdom itself, is, as it were, the lively image thereof; for the image is not quieted but in that whereof it is the image, and from which it hath the beginning, midst, and end; now the living image, by its life, doth of itself put forth motion towards the Sampler, in which only it resteth; for the life of the image cannot rest in itself, being but the life of the life of truth, and not its own; hereupon it is moved to the sampler, as to the truth of its being. If therefore the sampler be eternal, and the image have life in which it fore-tasteth its sampler, and so be desirefully moved unto it; and seeing that motion if it be vital or lively, cannot reft but in the infinite life, which is eternal wisdom; hence it followeth, that that spiritual motion can never cease which doth never infinitely reach or touch infinite life; for it is always with a most pleasant desire moved to reach it, which because of the delightfulness of the attraction is never loathed; for wisdom is the most s; avoury meat, which so satisfieth, that it never diminisheth the desire of taking it, so that the delight of that eternal feeding never ceaseth.  Orator. 
I do assuredly understand that thou hast very well spoken: only I see there is a great deal of difference between the taste of wisdom, and whatsoever can be said of the sense of tasting  Idiot. 
Thou sayest right, and it pleaseth me well to have heard this word from thee, for as all knowledge of the taste of that thing which was never tasted, is empty and barren, until the sense of tasting do reach it; so likewise of this wisdom, which no man tasteth by hearsay, but he only tasteth which receives it in his internal taste, and he bears witness, not of those things he hath heard, but which he hath experimentally tasted in himself. To know the many descriptions of love which the Saints have left unto us, without the taste of love, is but a certain emptiness. Wherefore for him that seeks eternal wisdom, it is not sufficient to know those things which are read of it; but it is very necessary, that having found by his understanding where it is, he then make it his own, as he that hath found a field, wherein there is a great treasure, cannot rejoice in or enjoy that treasure, being in another man's and not his own field; therefore he selleth all and buyeth that field, that he may have the treasure in his own field; he must then sell, and give away all his own things; for the eternal wisdom will not be had, but where the haver kept nothing of his own, to the end he might have that; and that which we have of our own, are our vices; and that which we have of the eternal wisdom, are nothing else but good things. Wherefore the spirit of Wisdom dwelleth not in a body subject to sins, nor in an evil willing soul. But in his own pure field and sapiential clean image, as in his holy temple; for where the eternal wisdom dwells, there is the Lords field, bearing immortal fruit; for it is the field of virtues which wisdom tilleth, from whence grow the fruits of the Spirit, which are Righteousness, Peace, Fortitude, Temperance, Chastity, Patience and such like.  Orator. 
Thou hast abundantly explained these things; but now answer me I pray thee, is not God the beginning of all things?  Idiot. 
Who doubts it.  Orator. 
Is the eternal wisdom any thing else but God?  Idiot. 
Fare be it we should say it is any thing else. It is God.  Orator. 
Did not God form or create all things by his word?  Idiot. 
He did.  Orator. 
Is the Word God?  Idiot. 
It is.  Orator. 
Is wisdom so?  Idiot. 
To say that God made all things in wisdom, is no more to say, then that that God created all things by his word; but consider how all that is might be, and might so be, and is, and God that gives it the actualnesse of being, is he with whom there is power by which the thing might be produced from not being to being; and he is God the Father, which may be called Entity or Unity, because he doth by his omnipotence necessitate that to be which was nothing; for God gives it such a being, that it is this, (as heaven for example) and nothing else; neither more nor less. And this God is the word, the wisdom, the son of the Father; and may be called the equality of Unity, or Entity. Then there is a being; and being so united, that it is, and this it hath from God, which is the connection knitting all things together; and it is God the holy Spirit, for it is the Spirit that unites and knits together all things in the univers, and in us. As therefore nothing begets unity but it is the first principle not principiated; or the first beginning not begun; so nothing begets the Father who is eternal; and equality proceeds from (or is begotten of) unity: so the son from the Father; and the knot or bond proceedeth from unity and its equality; so the holy spirit from the Father and the son; wherefore every thing, that it may have being, and such a being in which it is, hath need of a unitrine principle; namely of God three and one, of whom there might much more be said, if the time would give leave: the wisdom therefore which is the equality itself of being is the word or reason of things; for it is as an infinite intellectual form; for the form gives to the thing that it is formed. Therefore an infinite form is the actuality of all formable things & forms, and the most precise equality of them all; for as if there were an infinite circle, it would be the true sampler of all figurable figures, and the equality of the being of every figure; for it would be a triangle, an hexagone, a decagone & so forth; & the most adequate measure of them all, though a most simple figure; so infinite wisdom is simplicity, complicating all forms & the most adequate measure of them all, as if the most perfect Idea of omnipotent art should be the art itself, and most simple form of every thing formable by art. So that if thou look upon the form of a man thou shalt find the form of the divine art, the most precise sampler thereof, as if it were nothing else at all; then the sampler of the form of a man; so if thou look to the form of Heaven, and turn thyself to the form of the divine art, thou shalt not be able to conceive it any other thing then the sampler of this form of Heaven. And so of all forms formed or formable. The art or wisdom of God the Father, is the most simple form, and yet the only and most equal example of infinite formable forms; although variable. O how admirable is that form whose most simple infinity all formable forms cannot explicate, or show the uttermost of? And he only, that by a most sublime understanding, lifteth himself above all opposition, sees it to be most true; as if any man would mark the natural force which is in a unity, he should see that power, if he would conceive the same to be in act, as a cetaine form visible by the understanding only, and that afar of; and because the power of a unity would be most simple, it must needs be a most simple infinity. In the next place, if the fame man would turn himself to the form of numbers in considering a duality a or a tennality, and would then return to the actual power of a unity, he should see that form which is put to be the actual power of the unity, to be the most precise sampler of duality, tennality, or any other numerable number; for this would the infinity of that form do (which is called the power of unity) that whilst thou lookest to duality, that form can be neither greater nor less, than the form of duality, whereof it is the most precise sampler.  
Thus thou seest that one and the same simple wisdom of God, because it is infinite, is the most true sampler of all formable forms; and this is his reaching, by which he reacheth all things, boundeth or limiteth, and disposeth them; for it is in all forms as the truth in the image; the sampler in the thing exemplified; the form in the figure, and preciseness in assimilation or likeness; and although it do most liberally communicate itself to all things a being infinitely good; yet can it be received in nothing as it is, because in another thing it is otherwise received. And being it cannot be received in any thing, but after another manner, it is yet received after the best manner that may be; but unmultipliable infinity is better explicated in a various reception; for great diversity doth better express unmultipliablenesse; from whence it is that wisdom being in divers forms diversely received, brings it to pass that every form called to Identity is partaker of wisdom, as well as it can; that some things partake it in a certain spirit exceedingly distant from the first form, which scarce gives an elemental being; others in a more form spirit, which gives a mineral being; others in a yet more noble degree, which gives a vegetable life; others in a higher, which gives a sensible life; after that in such a one as gives an imaginative power; then a rational, and lastly, an intellectual life; and this is the highest degree that is, the nearest image of wisdom. And this only is the degree that hath aptitude or fitness to lift itself up to the taste of wisdom; because in those intellectual natures, the image of wisdom is the lively intellectual life; the power whereof is of itself to show or put forth a vital motion; which motion is by understanding to go forward to its proper object; which is absolute truth, that is eternal wisdom; and that going forward being to vunderstand, is also to taste intellectaully; for to apprehend by the understanding, is by a certain most welcome taste as well as it can, to attains and reach to quiddity; for as by the sensible taste which reacheth not the quiddity, yet in outward things there is a certain pleasant sweetness perceived by the sense, which sweetness is from the quiddity: So by the understanding there is tasted in the quiddity an intellectual sweetness, which is the image of the sweetness of the eternal wisdom, which is the quiddity of quiddities, and an unproportionable comparison of one sweetness to another.  
Let these things that have been said, suffice for this short time, that thou mayest know that wisdom is not in the art of oratory, or in great volumes, but in the separation from these sensible things; and in the turning to the most simple and infinite form; and that thou mayest understand how to receive it in a Temple purged from all vice, and by fervent love to cleave unto it, until thou mayest taste it, and see how sweet that is which is all sweetness, which being once tasted, all things which now seem great, will grow vild and base unto thee; and thou wilt be so humbled, that no arrogance, or any other vice will remain in thee; because with a most chaste and pure heart thou wilt inseparably adhere unto wisdom once tasted; choosing rather to forsake this world, and all things else that are not it, than it; and living with unspeakable gladness, thou wilt die; and after death eternally rest in it by a most amorous embracement; which the ever blessed wisdom of God itself vouchsafe to grant both to thee and me. Amen.  
The end of the first book of the Idiot.   

The second Book of the Idiot.  
Wherein the Speakers are 

The Author.  
The Idiot.  
The Orator.    Author. 
IT happened that the Roman Orator, after the words he had heard from the Idiot concerning wisdom, was exceedingly stricken with admiration, and went unto him, whom when he had found lurking about the Temple of Eternity, he thus spoke unto him.  Orat. 
O man most desired and looked for, help my weakness, that I may with some ease feed upon those difficulties which transcend my mind, and understanding: otherwise, it will little avail me to have heard from thee so many high Speculations.  Id. 
There is no difficulty more easy than to contemplate divine things, where the delight coincides with the difficulty. But tell me, what is it thou desirest?  Orat. 
That thou wouldst tell me how (seeing God is greater than can be conceived) I ought to frame my conception of him?  Id. 
As thou wouldst do of conception.  Orat. 
Explain thyself.  Id. 
Thou hast heard how in every conception he that is unconceivable is conceived: there comes therefore a conception from a conception, to him that is unconceivable.  Orat. 
How shall I then make a more precise conception?  Id. 
Conceive precision; for God is absolute precison itself.  Orat. 
What is then to be done by me, when I purpose to frame a right a conception of God?  Id. 
Turn thyself unto rectitude or rightness.  Orat. 
And when I labour to frame a true conception of God, what must I then do?  Id. 
Then bend thy mind upon Truth itself.  Orat. 
What if I mean to make a just conception?  Id. 
Turn thyself to justice.  Orat. 
And when I seek to make a good conception, what must I then do?  Id. 
Lift up the eyes of thy mind unto Goodness  Orat. 
I wonder whither it it that thou sendest me in all these cases?  Id. 
See how easy the difficulty is in divine things, that it always offers itself to the seeker, in the same manner that it is sought for.  Orat. 
Without doubt there is nothing more wonderful.  Id. 
Every question concerning God, presupposeth the thing questioned; and that must be answered, which in every question concerning God, the question presupposeth: for God, although he be unsignifiable, is signified in every signification of terms.  Orat. 
Declare thyself more at large I pray thee; for I am so transported with wonders, that I can scarce hear what thou sayest.  Id. 
Doth not the question, whether a thing be or no, presupprose the Entity?  Orat. 
Yes.  Id. 
Therefore when it is demanded of thee, whether God be, (or whether there be a God?) answer that which is presupposed, namely that he is; because that is the Entity presupposed in the question. So, if any man shall ask thee, what is God? considering that this question presupposeth a quiddity to be; thou shalt answer, that God is absolute quiddity itself. And so of all things. Nor need there be any hesitation or doubt in this; for God is the absolute presupposition itself, of all things, which (after what manner soever) are presupposed, as in every effect the cause is presupposed. See therefore, Orator, how easy Theological difficulty is.  Orat. 
Certainly, this is a very, grrat and yet a stupendious facility.  Id. 
Nay, I say unto thee, that God is infinite facility itself and it doth not agree to God that he should be infinite difficulty; for it must needs be (as thou shalt hear anon of crooked and strait) that difficulty pass into facility, if it ought to agree to the infinite God.  Orat. 
If that which in every question is presupposed, be in divine matters an answer unto the question: then of God there can be no proper question, because the answer coincides with it.  Id. 
It is a very good inference; and add unto it, that God being infinite straightness, and absolute necessity, a doubtful question reacheth not him, but all doubt is in him certainty; whence we also infer, that any answer unto any question concerning God, is not a proper and precise answer; for precision is not more than one and infinite, which is God: for every answer partakes of the absolute answer, which is infinitely precise. But what I said unto thee, how that in Theological questions, the presupposed is the answer, must be understood in the same manner that the question is made, and so taking it, this is sufficiency; because whereas in God, neither the question, nor the answer to the question, can reach precision: therefore after the manner wherein the question approacheth to precision, in the same manner the answer presupposeth.  
And this is our sufficiency which we have of God, knowing that precision inattingible, cannot by us be reached, but after some manner that partakes the manner of absolute precision. Among the which, being divers and manifold, that partake the only manner of precision, the foresaid manner comes nearest unto absolute facility, and is our sufficiency, because we cannot reach any other which is easier and truer.  Orat. 
Who would not be amazed at the hearing of these things? For whereas God is absolute incomprehensibility, thou sayest that comprehension comes so much the nearer unto him, by how much the manner thereof doth more partake of facility.  Id. 
He that doth with me behold how absolute facility coincides with absolute incomprehensibility, cannot choose but say as I do. Whereupon I do constantly affirm, that by how much the universal manner to all questions formable of God shall be more easy, by so much more true, and more convenient it is, as position (or affirmation) agrees to God.  Orat. 
Make this somewhat more plain.  Id. 
That is, as we admit some things may be spoken of God affirmatively: for in that Divinity which denies all things of God, we must speak otherwise; because there the truer answer is to every question, a negation: yet by that means or manner, we are not led to the knowledge what God is, but what God is not.  
There is moreover a consideration of God, as neither position, nor ablation (that is neither affirmation nor negation) agrees unto him, but as he is above all position and ablation; and then the answer is, to deny affirmation, negation and copulation. As in case it should be demanded, Whether God be? according to the way of position, it must be answered out of that which is presupposed, to wit, that he is, and that the very absolute presupposed Entity: Bat according to the way of ablation (or negation) it must be answered, that he is not: when by that way, none of all those things that may be spoken, can agree to him that is unspeakable. But by the way, which is above all position and ablation, it must be answered, that he is neither, to wit, absolute Entity; nor that he is not, nor both together (namely that he is and is not) but that he is above all. And now I think thou understandest what I mean.  Orat. 
I understand now that thou wouldst say, that in words using divinity, where we admit speeches of God, and the power of language is not utterly excluded, there thou hast brought the sufficiency of difficult things, into the facility of the manner of forming truer Propositions concerning God.  Id. 
Thou hast well apprehended it; for if I would lay open unto thee, the conception which I have of God, my speech, if it must stand thee in stead, must needs be such as hath significative words, that so in the power of the word, which is alike known unto us both, I may lead thee to that which is sought; and that which is now sought, is God. And therefore this is Sermocinal, or word-using Divinity, whereby I endeavour, by the power of language to lead thee to God, the easiest: and truest way that I can.  Orat. 
Let us now, I pray thee, return to those things that were formerly premised by thee, and explain thou them in order. In the first place thou saidst, that the conception of conception (seeing God is the conception of conception) is the conception of God. Now, is it not the mind which conceiveth?  Id. 
Without the mind there is no conception.  Orat. 
Seeing then to conceive belongs to the mind, certainly, to conceive an absolute conception, is nothing else but to conceive the Art of the absolute mind.  Id. 
Go on, for thou art in the way.  Orat. 
But the art of the absolute mind, is no other thing then the form of all things formable; So I see how the conception of conception is nothing else but the conception of the Idea of divine Art. If I say the truth, tell me so.  Id. 
Thou speakest exceeding well; for absolute conception can be nothing else but the Ideal form of all things which can be conceived, which is the equality of all things formable.  Orat. 
This conception, as I think, is called the word of God, or the reason (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.)  Id. 
Howsoever it be called by learned men, in that conception are all things. As we say, that those things which without reason foregoing, come not into being, are formerly in reason; and all things which we conceive to be, have a reason of their being, that they may be after the manner in which they are, and no otherwise. Therefore he that looks with a profound mind, into the simplicity of absolute reason, which by way of priortity, complicates all things in itself, he makes a conception of conception by itself, or absolute conception: and this was the first thing that I premised.  Orat. 
Enough of this: now go on to show how the conception of absolute precision, it a more precise conception of God.  Id. 
I am not now at leisure to repeat the same thing in every particular: neither do I see it to be so seasonable for thee, considering that by one, the way is opened for thee to all.  
But take it notwithstanding, very briefly Precision, straightness, truth, justice & goodness (of which thou hast heard) are the same thing: Yet do not believe that I mean, as all divinity is circular, one of the attributes verified of another; as we say, that from the necessity of God's infinite simplicity, the greatness of God is his power, and back again, his power is his greatness: and so of all those things that are by us attributed to the essence of God. But these things of which I now speak, we find by experience, do coincide in our ordinary talk. For when we hear any body express a thing as it is indeed, presently one says that the expresser did it precisely, another rightly, another truly, another justly, another well. And thus we find it true in our daily speech. Neither doth he who said he did it precisely and rightly, mean any other thing, than he that said he expressed it truly, justly, and well. And this thou grantest in thyself to be true, when thou markest how he that said neither more nor less than he ought to have said, hath reached and attained to all those; for preciseness is no more to say than that which is neither more nor less. In the same manner neither right, nor true, nor just, nor good, admit either more or less; for how can that be precise, right, true, just, or good, that is less than precise, right, true, just, and good? And if that which is less than precise, be not precise, and less than right, be not right, and less than true, be not true, and less than just, be not just, and less than good, be not good; it is manifest, as well that which admitteth more, is none of these: for precision which admitteth more, to wit, which can be more precise, is not absolute precision. And so of right, true, just, and good.  Orat. 
In those things then, that admit more or less, there is no conception to be formed concerning God.  Id. 
Thou inferrest very well; for seeing God is infinite, those things that admit of more or less, are not like unto him. Wherefore in those things, one cannot ascend or descend into infinity, as we find by experience in number, and the division of a continued quantity.  Orat. 
Therefore in this world there is no precision, nor rightness, nor truth, nor justice, nor goodness, being we prove by trial, that one thing is more precise than another, as one picture is preciser than another. So of rightness; for one thing is righter than another, and one thing is truer than another, and one thing juster than another, and one thing better than another.  Id. 
Thou conceivest me well; for those things as they are absolute, and free from more or less, are not of this world. For there is nothing to be found so precise, that it cannot be preciser: and nothing so strait, that cannot be straighter: or so true, that cannot be truer: or so just, that cannot be juster: or so good, that cannot be better. That pecision therefore, that rightness, truth, justice, or goodness, which are to be found in this world, are certain participations of such absolutes, and images, of which those others are the samplars: samplars, I say, in the plural number, whilst we refer them to the divers reasons, and forms of divers things; but they are indeed but one sampler, because they coincide in that which is absolute.  Orat. 
I long extremely to hear thee concerning this point, how there it but one absolute sampler of so great varieties of all things.  Id. 
He that is but little conversant in these Theological Speculations, thinketh this to be exceeding difficult: but to me there seemeth nothing more easy and delightful; for the absolute sampler, which is nothing but absolute precision, rightness, truth, justice, or goodness, complicates all exemplifiable things of which there can be any precision, rightnsse, truth, justice, and goodness, much more perfectly than thy face complicates all the formable images thereof, of all which it is the precision, rightness, and truth; for all the images of thy face, which may be painted, are so far forth precise, right, and true, as they partake and imitate the living image of thy face. And although it be not possible that one of them should be painted just like the other, in all respect, without any manner of difference, seeing precision is not of this world, and that which is another thing, must needs be after another manner: yet of all those truths there is but one sampler.  Orat. 
Thou speakest well, as to the unity of the sampler, but not to the equality: For my face, although it be the measure of the Truth of the picture, because the picture is judged by the beholding of my face, how much, or how little it fails in the likeness; yet it is not true, that my face is the most adequate measure of them all, by every manner of measure; because it is always either greater or lesser.  Id. 
Thou sayest true of thy face; because it hath quantity, and being capable of more or less, it cannot be precision, neither the adequate measure of another thing. For in this world wanting precision, & adequate measure; & likeness is impossible. But if thou conceive an absolute sampler, it is otherwise; for that is neither great nor small, for these things cannot be of the reason (or formality) of a sampler: for a Pismire being to be painted, is a sampler as well as a mountain that is to be painted, and so back again: therefore an absolute sampler, that is not capable of more or less, being precision and truth, cannot be either greater or less, than the exemplified: for that which cannot be less, we call the least, and that is most little; and that which cannot be greater, we call the greatest, that is the most great. Absolve therefore or free maximity or greatestnesse from that which is most little, or most great, that thou mayest see maximity in itself, and not contracted in small or great, and thou shalt so see absolute maximity, before great and little, so that it cannot be greater or less, but is the greatest, in which the least coincides. Wherefore such a greatest as it is the absolute sampler, cannot be either greater or less than any exemplified thing possible to be given; and that which is neither greater nor, less, we call equal. Therefore the absolute sampler is equality, precision, measure, or justice, which is the same thing, truth and goodness, which is the perfection of all exemplifiable things.  Orat. 
Yet further, I pray thee, instruct me, how infinity doth agree with absolute rectitude, or rightness?  Id. 
Very willingly: Thou knowest that by how much greater any circle is, so much greater is the Diameter thereof.  Orat. 
I confess it.  Id. 
Well then, though a circle, which is capable of more and less, cannot be simply the greatest, or infinite; yet let us suppose such a circle to be infinite, shall not then the Diameter thereof be an infinite line?  Orat. 
It must of necessity be so.  Id. 
And the circumference being infinite shall be the Diameter; for two infinites cannot be, seeing each of them, by the addition of the other, may be greater. And the circumference itself could not be crooked, for it were impossible it should be neither greater nor less than the Diameter, if it were crooked; Seeing there is one and the same habitude (or proportion) of the crooked circumferences of all circles to the Diameter, which is a habitude more than triple or threefold. If therefore the circumference be equal to the Diameter, it shall also be the Diameter itself and a right line. For this cause also thou seest, how the Arc of a great circle, is liker to a right line than the Arc of a little circle: And therefore by this reason, the circumference of an infinite circle, must needs be right or strait: whence it is manifest, that crookedness which is capable of more or less, is not found in the infinite, but only rightness or straightness.  Orat. 
The things thou speakest do much please we, because they do very easily lift me up to that which I seek: proceed, I pray thee, to show, how infinite straightness or rightness is the sampler.  Id. 
This thou clearly discernest by thyself, that infinite rightness hath itself so (or is of the same habitude) to all things; as an infinite line, if there were any such, hath itself to all figures; for if infinite rightness, which is necessarily absolute, were contracted to a line, being contracted, it must needs be found the complication, precision, rightness, truth, measure and perfection of all figurable figures. Therefore absolute rightness being considered absolutely, and uncontractedly to any line, or any other thing whatsoever, is likewise absolutely the sampler, precision, truth, measure and perfection of all things.  Orat. 
These things are no ways subject to doubt, only show how an infinite line is the precision of all figures; thou toldest me Yesterday, how an infinite circle is the sampler of all figures, and I understood it not, and willing to be more clearly informed of it, I came unto thee again, and now thou sayest an infinite line is precision, which I less understand.  Id. 
Thou hast heard how an infinite line is a circle, so a triangle, quadrangle, Pentagone; so all infinite figures coincide with an infinie line. Hereupon, an infinite line is the sampler of all figures which can be made of lines; because an infinite line is an infinite act or form of all formable figures. And when thou lookest upon a triangle, and liftest thyself up to an infinite line, thou shalt find it the most adequate sampler of this triangle; after this manner consider an infinite triangle, this infinite triangle is neither greater nor less than the aforesaid triangle. For the sides of an infinite triangle are infinite, and an infinite side being the greatest, in which the less coincides, is neither greater nor less than the given side. So then the sides of an infinite triangle, are neither greater, nor less than the sides of the given triangle. So neither the whole triangle is greater or less than the given triangle; wherefore it must needs be, that an infinite triangle is the precision, and absolute form of a finite triangle. But the three sides of an infinite triangle, must of necessity be one infinite line; because there cannot be many infinite lines: So it would come to pass, that an infinite line is the most precise sampler of the given triangle: and as I have said of a triangle, so likewise of all figures.  Orat. 
O wonderful facility of difficult things! I see now that all these things do most evidently follow the position (or granting) of an infinite line; namely, that it is the sampler, precision, rectitude, truth, measure or justice, goodness or perfection of all figures, figurable by a line. And I see that in the simplicity of its straightness, all things figurable, are complicitely, most truly, formally, and precisely, without all confusion, or defect, infinitely more perfectly than be they can figured.  Id. 
Blessed be God, who hath used me, a most ignorant man, as an instrument, such as it is, to open the eyes of thy mind for the beholding him with admirable easiness, after the manner that he hath made himself visible unto thee; for when thou transferrest thyself from straightness contracted to a line, to absolute infinite straightness, then in that straightness thou shalt see complicated, every thing formable, and the kinds of all things, as I have said before of figures. And thou shalt further see, how straightness itself is the sampler, precision, truth, measure or justice, goodness or perfection of all things, which are or can be; and the precise and unconfounded actuality of all things that are, or are possible to be made; so that to whatsoever kind or thing being, thou turnest thine eyes, if thou lift up thy mind to infinite straightness, thou shalt find it the most precise, and no way defective exemplar truth thereof. As put the case thou see a man, which is strait, and a true man, thou shalt see that he is nothing else but that straightness, truth, measure and perfection, So contracted and terminated is a man. And if thou consider his straightness which is finite, and lift up thyself unto infinite straightness, thou shalt strait see how infinite and absolute straightness can be neither greater nor less than that straightness contracted to a man, whereby the man is a strait and true man, but is the truest, justest, and best precision thereof. So infinite truth is the precision of finite truth; and absolutely infinite, the precision, measure, truth and perfection of every thing finite. And as we have said of a man, so understand of all things else.  
Thus now thou hast that which is granted us to contemplate in eternal Wisdom, that thou mayest behold all things in a most simple rectitude, most truly, precisely, unconfusedly, and perfectly, though in an Enigmatical mean, without which the vision of God cannot be in this world, until he shall grant, that without any shadow, he shall be made visible unto us. And this is the facility of the difficult things of wisdom, which according to thy fervour and devotion, God vouchsafe to make every day more clear both to thee and me, until he translate us into the glorious fruition of the truth, there to remain eternally. Amen.  
The end of the Second Book of the Idiot.   

The Third Book, concerning the Mind.  
Wherein the speakers are 

The AUTHOR.  
The PHILOSOPHER.  
The ORATOR.  
The IDIOT.    

CHAP. I. How the Philosopher came unto the Idiot to learn something of the nature of the Mind. How the Mind is of itself the Mind, and by its Office the Soul, and hath its name from measuring.  Author. 
WHen many people from every part, flocked to Rome, because of the Jubilee, with wonderful devotion, it was reported that a certain Philosopher, the chiefest of all that then lived, was found upon the bridge, whom the passengers did much admire. A certain Orator very desirous of knowledge, sought for him carefully, and knowing him by the paleness of his face, his long robe, and other things that shown the gravity of a contemplative man, he courteously saluting him, demanded.  Orat. 
What cause is it that holds thee fixed in this place?  Phil. 
Admiration.  Orat. 
Admiration seems to be the spur of all men that desire to know any thing. And therefore I cannot but imagine, seeing thou art accounted the chief among learned men, that it is some great cause of admiration, that makes thee so attentive.  Phil. 
Thou sayest well, my friend; for when I see innumerable people pass by, from almost all climates, in so great press, I do wonder at so great a Uniformity in the faith of them all, in so great diversity of bodies: For though there be no one of them like another, yet there is one faith of them all, which from the ends of the earth, hath brought them hither with so great Devotion.  Orat. 
Certainty, it must needs be the gift of God, that Idiots do more clearly see and reach by faith, than Philosophers by reason; for thou knowest how great enquiry he hath need of, that doth by reason handle the immortality of the soul, which notwithstanding, there's none of all these that doth not, by faith alone, bold most assured; which makes them take such a deal of care and pains, that after death, their souls may be darkened with no sin, and so taken up into a most bright desired lift.  Phil. 
Thou tellest me a great matter, and a true one, O my friend; for I have spent all my time in going about the world, and addressing myself to wise men, that I might be more assured of the immortality of the soul. In as much as the knowledge of a man's self, was, in times past, enjoined by the Oracle of Delphi, that the mind should know itself, and feel itself conjoined to the divine mind: but to this hour I could never, by the clearness of reason, so perfectly reach unto that which I desire, as this ignorant people doth by faith.  Orat. 
If I may in civility ask, I pray thee tell me, what moved thee, who seemest a Peripatetic, to come to Rome? dost thou think to find any man here, by whom thou mayest better thyself?  Phil. 
I had heard that in this place, out of the Temple in the Capitol, dedicated by Titus Attilius Crassus to the mind, there were found many writings of wise men concerning the mind: But I have peradventure lost my labour, unless thou, which seemest to me a good and understanding Citizen, help me.  Orat. 
That Crassus dedicated a Temple to the mind, it is certain: but whether there were any books there concerning the mind, and what they were, after so many sackings of Rome, no man can tell. But lest thou grieve for thy lost labour, thou shalt hear one that is in my judgement an admirable man, though an Idiot, discourse of what things soever thou, will't.  Phil. 
I pray thee let me, as soon as ever thou canst possibly.  Orat. 
Fellow me then.  Auth. 
And when they came near the Temple of Eternity, they went down into a little place under ground, and there finding the Idiot making a wooden Spoons, the Orator thus spoke to him.  Orat. 
I am ashamed, Idiot, that thou shouldest be found by this great Philosopher, thus busied about these rustical works; he will never believe that he shall hear any speculations from thee.  Id. 
I do willingly employ myself about those exercises which do continually feed both my mind and my body. And if this man whom thou bringest be a Philosopher, I do not think he will despise me ever the more, for being a Spoon-maker.  Phil. 
Thou sayest very well; for even Plato is said to have practised painting between while, which it is thought he would never have done, if it had been any hindrance to his contemplation.  Orat. 
It may be too, that Plato had from the Art of painting, familiar examples, by which he made great matters very easy.  Id. 
So do I, in this my art, symbolically inquire and seek for whatsoever I list, and so feed my mind, and then I change my spoons for other necessaries, and refresh my body, and so, as much as is sufficient for me, I get all that I have need of.  Phil. 
It is my fashion, when I come to any man that hath the report of a wise man, to be principally, solicitous and careful of those things that do most trouble me; and to compare writings of the learned one with an other, and to seek out the meaning of them. But thou being an Idiot, I know not how to get thee to speak, or how to occasion some discourse, that I may see what understanding thou hast of the mind.  Id. 
I do not think there is any man alive, needs less compulsion to speak his mind, than I do; for being that I confess myself an ignorant Idiot, I never fear to answer any thing. Learned Philosophers, and such as have the reputation of knowledge, deliberate carefully, because they have need to fear falling: Therefore if thou wilt plainly tell me, what it is thou wouldst have with me, I shall as plainly answer thee.  Phil. 
I cannot in few words express myself; if it please you, let us all sit, and talk together.  Id. 
It pleaseth me well.  Aut. 
And when they had set stools in a triangle, and placed themselves in order, thus spoke the  Orat. 
Thou seest, O Philosopher, the simplicity and plainness of this man, that useth none of the Ceremonies ordinary in the entertainment of a man of suck worth: now make trial of him in those things which (as thou sayest) do most trouble thee, he will conceal nothing from thee which he knows, and I think thou wilt confess thou wert not brought hither in vain.  Phil. 
All these things please me well: Now let us go to the matter: in the mean time be thou silent, I pray thee, and let not our long discourse seem tedious.  Orat. 
Thou shalt find me rather desirous to have you continue your discourse, than as one weary of it.  Phil. 
Tell me then, Idiot, for so thou sayest thy name is, if thou hast any conjecture of the mind?  Id. 
I think there is not, nor ever was, any perfect man, that did not frame some conception of the mind, such as it was. I for my part, have a conception, that the mind is the bond and measure of all things; and I conjecture it is called men's a mensurando, the mind from measuring.  Phil. 
Dost thou think the mind is one thing, and the soul another?  Id. 
I do certainly think so; for the mind subsisting in itself is one thing, and in the body another. The mind subsisting in itself is either infinite, or the image of the infinite. And of these minds which are the image of the infinite, being they are not the greatest, or absolute and infinite, subsisting in itself, I admit that some may animate humane bodies, and then I grant, that the same are, by virtue of their office, souls.  Phil. 
Thou grantest therefore, that the mind and the soul of a man are the same, the mind by its self, the soul by its office?  Id. 
I grant it, As the sensitive and seeing part of the eye, in a living Wight, is one power.   

CHAP. II. How there is a natural word, and another imposed according to it; and how there is a simple beginning, which is the Art of arts; and how the eternal Art of the Philosophers is complicated.  Phil. 
THou saidst the mind was so called of measuring; amongst all the several derivations of the word, I read of no man that holds that point. The first thing therefore I entreat thee is, that thou wouldst open unto me the cause of thy so saying.  Id. 
If we must diligently inquire of the power of the word, I am of opinion, that that power, which is in us, and notionally complicates all the samplars of things, which we call the mind, is not properly named. For as humane reason reacheth not the quiddity of things, so doth not the name; For words are imposed by the motion of reason: For we call one thing by one name, and for a certain reason; and another thing by another, and for another reason: and one tongue hath proper names, and another more barbarous and remote; therefore I see, that where the propriety of names is capable of more or less, there the precise name is not known.  Phil. 
Thou makest haste to high matters, Idiot; for according to what thou seemest to say, therefore are names ●esse proper, because they are imposed at pleasure, as seemed good to every one that imposed them by the motion of reason.  Id. 
I would have thee understand me more profoundly than so; for although I confess, that every name is by the coming of the form unto the matter united to the thing, it being true, that the form gives the name, that so names are not from the giver, but from Eternal, and the imposition is free: yet I do not think that there is any other than a congruous name imposed, although it be not a precise one.  Phil. 
Explain thyself, I pray thee, that I may know what thou meanest.  Id. 
Very willingly, and now I turn myself to this art of spoon-making. And first I would have thee know, that I do without any haessitation affirm, that all human arts are certain images of the infinite & divine art, I know not whether it seem so to thee, or no.  Phil. 
Thou requirest high matters, and I think it not fit to answer them publicly.  Id. 
I wonder if ever thou readest any Philosopher that is ignorant of this, that appears so plainly of itself: For it is manifest that no humane art ever reached the precision of perfection; and that every humane art is finite, and bounded; for one art is bounded or limited in its bounds, and another in another's, and every one is different from the rest, and no one doth complicate all.  Phil. 
What dost thou infer from this?  Id. 
That every humane art is finite.  Phil. 
Who doubts it?  Id. 
And it is impossible there should be many infinite things really distinct.  Phil. 
I confess, that likewise, for the one of them would be bounded, or determined by the other.  Id. 
If then this be so, is not the only absolute beginning infinite? For before a beginning there is no beginning, as appears by itself, lest the beginning should be principiated. Therefore Eternity is only infinity itself, or the absolute beginning.  Phil. 
I admit it.  Id. 
Therefore the one and only absolute Eternity is infinity itself, which is without beginning: wherefore every finite principiated thing, is from the infinite beginning.  Phil. 
I cannot deny it.  Id. 
Therefore every finite Art is from an infinite Art. And so it must needs be, that an infinite Art is the sampler, beginning, middle, end, measure, standard, truth, precision, and perfection of all Arts.  Phil. 
Proceed to that which thou makest haste unto; for no man can descent from thee in these.  Id. 
I will therefore, out of this Art of Spoon-making, apply symbolical examples, that the things I shall say, may be made more sensible.  Phil. 
I pray thee do so; for I see thou holdest the way to those things after which I labour.  Ant. 
Then the Idiot taking a Spoon in his hand, thus proceeded.  Id. 
A Spoon besides the Idea of our mind, hath no other sampler: For although a Carver, as a painter, do draw examples from things which he goeth about to figure; yet so do not I that of wood make Spoons, and of clay little dishes and pots. For I do not in these imitate the figure or shape of any natural thing whatsoever: for such forms of Spoons, dishes and pots, are perfected by man's art alone; and therefore my art is rather perfecting than imitating created figures, and in this liker unto infinite Art.  Phil. 
This pleaseth well enough.  Id. 
Suppose then that I would explicate my art, and make sensible the form of Spoonnesse, by which the Spoon is constituted, which though in its own nature, it be by no sense attingible, as being neither white nor black, nor of any other colour, sound, smell, taste, or touch, yet if I will labour to make it sensible in that manner that it may be done. Whereupon by the divers motions of the instruments which I use, I do bore and make hollow the matter, that is wood, until in it the due proportion arise, wherein the form of spoonnesse doth conveniently appear. Whereupon the truth and precision of spoonnesse, which is unmultipliable, and incommunicable, cannot by any instrument, or any man be made perfectly sensible. And in all spoons nothing but the simple form itself, after a divers manner, more in one, and in another less, but in none precisely. And although the wood itself takes the name from the coming of the form, that as soon as that proportion ariseth, in which spoonnesse appeareth, it is called a spoon, that so the name may be united to the form; yet the imposition of the name was at pleasure, because another might have been imposed. And though it be at pleasure, yet it is not another, and quite divers, from the natural name united to the form, but the natural name shines (after the coming of the form) in all the divers names by whatsoever divers nations imposed. The imposition of the name therefore is done by the motion of reason; for the motion of reason is about things which fall under sense, whose discretion, concordance, and difference reason makes. So that there can be nothing in reason, which was not first in sense. So therefore reason imposeth names, and is moved to give one name to one thing, and another to another. But because the form in its truth, is not found among those things about which reason is conversant, therefore reason ends itself, and determines in conjecture and opinion. Whereupon generals and particulars, genera & species, as they fall under names, are (Entia rationis) beings of reason which reason made to itself, out of the concordance and difference of sensible things: & in that respect, being by nature after the sensible things whereof they are the similitudes, the sensible things being destroyed, those cannot remain. Whosoever therefore, thinks that nothing can fall into the understanding, that falls not into reason, he also thinks that there can be nothing in the understanding that was not first in the sense, and consequently he must necessarily say, that the thing is nothing, but as it falls under a name, and his study is in every inquisition, deeply to search after the quid nominis, quiddity of the name. And this enquiry is very pleasing unto man, because it discourseth by the motion of reason. This man would deny that forms in themselves & in their truth separated, are otherwise than as they are beings of reason; & would make no account of samplars, and Ideas.  
But they that admit something to be in the intelligence of the mind, which was not either in sense or reason; as for example, The exemplar and incommunicable truth of forms which shineth in the sensible things, they say that the samplars or Ideas do by nature, go before the sensible things, as the truth goes before the image; And this order they give, that first, according to the order of Nature, is humanity in itself, and of itself, namely without any praejacent matter, and then man by Humanity, and that he falls under a name, and afterwards the species in reason: and that therefore all men being destroyed, humanity as it is a species, that falls under a name, and is a being of reason which reason hath found out, by the sinilitude and likeliness of men, cannot subsist; for it depended of men which are not; but for all this, that humanity by which men were, doth not cease to be, which humanity falls not under the name of species, as names are imposed by the motion of reason, but is the truth of that species that falls under a name: whereupon though the image be destroyed, the truth remains in itself.  
And all these deny that the thing is nothing but as it falls under a name; for in that manner as it falls under a name, Logic and reasonable discourse considers of them, and accordingly they do logically inquire into the nature of the thing, and commend this way of so doing; but they rest not there, because reason or Logic is only conversant about the images of the forms. But they that labour Theologically to look into matters beyond the power of the name, turn themselves to samplars and Ideas. And beyond these I think there can no more ways of inquisition be given. If thou that art a Philosopher, hast read other, thou mayest peradventure know them; but this I think.  Phil. 
Thou dost wonderfully handle all Sects of Philosophers, both Peripatetics and Academics.  Id. 
All these, and what differences of ways soever may be imagined, are easily agreed, when the mind lifts itself up to infinity: For (as this Orator can more at large inform thee, by what he hath heard of me) the infinite form is the one only and most simple which shineth in all things, as the most adequate sampler of all and every thing formable. Whereupon it shall also be most true, that there are not many separate samplars and Ideas of things, which infinite form no reason can reach: therefore being unspeakable, it is not comprehended by all names imposed by the motion of reason. And so the thing as it falls under a name, is the image of its unspeakable, proper, and adequate sampler. There is therefore one unspeakable word, which is the precise name of all things, as by the motion of reason they fall under a name; which unspeakable name, after its manner, shineth in all things, being the infinite nominability of all names, and the infinite word of all things possible to be by word expressed; so that every name is the image of the precise name; And this was all which they all laboured to say, though peradventure it might have been better and clearlier spoken: for they all necessarily agreed, that there is one infinite power, which we call God, in which all things must needs be complicated. Nor did he mean any other thing, that said humanity as it falls under a name, is the precision of truth, than that unspeakable infinite form, which, while we look upon the form of man we call the precise sampler thereof; that so the unspeakable, whilst we look upon the images thereof, may be named by the name of all things, and one most simple sampler according to the specifical differences of things exemplified, and by our reason form may seem to be many samplars.   

CHAP. III. How the Philosophers are to be understood, and accorded; of the name, of God and precision; how one precise name being known, all are known; of the sufficience of things knowable; and how the conception of God, and our conception do differ.  Phil. 
THou hast wonderfully explained that saying of Hermes Trisimegistus, that God may be called by the names of all things and all things by the name of God.  Id. 
Do but complicate this word To name, into the coincidence of the highest, by thy understanding, and all things will be plain: for God is the precision of every thing; and therefore if we had precise knowledge of any one thing, we must necessarily have the knowledge of all things: So if the precise name or one thing were known; then would the names of all things be known, because precision cannot be on this side God. Hereupon he that could reach on precision might reach God, who is the truth of all things that may be known.  Orat. 
Declare thyself, I pray thee, concerning the precision of a name.  Id. 
Thou knowest, Orator, how we forge mathemeticall figures out of the power of the mind. And therefore when I would make tryangularity visible, I make a figure, in which I make three Angels, that in that figure so habituated and proportioned, triangularity may appear, whehewith the name is united, which let it be supposed to be a Trigonus; I say then if Trigonus be the precise name of a tryangulare figure, than I know the precise names of all polygones, or many corner'd figures; for than I know that the precise name of a quadrangulare figure ought to be a Tetragone; and of a five corner'd figure a Pentagone, and so forward: And by the knowledge of one name, I know the figure named and all polygones that may be named, and the differences and concordances of them, and whatsoever else in this point may be known. In like manner I say that if I knew the precise name of one work of God, I should know all the names of all the works of God, and whatsoever might be known; And seeing the name of God is the precision, of every name nameable, it is apparent, that in that name alone all and every thing may be known.  Orat. 
This thou hast after thy fashion palpably explained.  Phil. 
Thou hast laid down a strange way, Idiot, to accord all the Philosophers: for when I seriously consider, I cannot but agree with thee, that their meaning was not otherwise then thou sayest: by this which none of them all could deny, that God is infinite; in which only saying are complicated all things that thou hast said, wonderful is this sufficience of all things knowable, or that may be any wise delivered. Descend more particularly to the treatise of the mind, and say, supposing that the calling of the mind men's, be from the reason of measuring; what wilt thou have the mind itself to be?  Id. 
Thou knowest how Divine simplicity complicates all things; of this complicating simplicity, the mind is the image: it than thou shalt call this Divine infinite simplicity, mind, it shall be the sampler of our mind. If thou call the Divine mind the universality of the truth of things, thou shalt calours the universality of the likeness of things, that it may be the universality of notions. The conception of the Divine mind, is the production of things, the conception of our mind, the notion of things. If the Divine mind be absolute entity, than the conception thereof is the creation of beings: and the conceptions of our mind the likeness of beings; for those things that agree to the Divine mind, as to infinite truth, agree to our mind as the nearest image of truth. If all things be in the Divine mind, as in their precise and proper truth; all things are in our mind, as in the image, or similitude of their proper truth, to wit, notionally; for knowledge is by likeness. All things are in God, but there the samplars of things; all things are in our mind, but here the similitudes of things. As God is the absalute entity, which is the complication of all things that are, so our mind is the image of that infinite entity, which is the complication of all images, no otherwise then the first picture of an unknown King, is the sampler of all other copies that are painted according to it: for the knowledge, or face of God, descends not, but in the mental nature, whereof truth is the object; and further it descendeth not, but by the mind, so that the mind is the image of God, and the sampler of all the images of God after itself. Therefore look how much all things, after the simple mind, do partake of the mind, so much do they also partake of God's image; so that the mind of itself is the image of God, and all things after the mind, no ways but by the mind.   

CHAP. IU. How our mind is not the explication, but a certain image of the eternal complication: how those things that are after the mind are not such an image. How the mind is without notions, and yet hath a conere eaten judgement; and why the body it necessary for it.  Phil. 
How seemest, out of the great fullness of thy mind, as though thou meantest, that as the infinite mind is the absolute formative power; so the finite mind is the conformative or configurative power.  Id. 
I do indeed for that which is to be said, cannot conveniently be expressed, & therefore is the multiplication of speech very profitable. Now mark further, than an image is one thing, and an explication another; for equality is the image of unity, for from unity once ariseth equality. Therefore is equality the image of unity; yet is not equality but plurality, the explication of unity: therefore is equally the image of the explication of of unity, not the explication. So do I mean, that the mind is the most simple image, of the divine mind, amongst all the images of divine complication. And so is the mind the first image of that divine complication, which by his simplicity and power, complicateth all images of complication. For as God is the complication of complications, so the mind which is the image of God, is the image of the complication of complications: and after the images, are the plurality of things which explicate the divine complication. As number explicates unity, motion rests, time eternity, composition simplicity, time the present, greatness a point, motion a moment, inequality equality, diversity identity, and so of the rest. From hence gather the admirable power of our mind, for in the virtue thereof, is complicated the assimulative power of the complication of a point, by which it finds in itself a power, wherein it assimulates itself to every greatness.  
So also because of the assimulative power of the complication of unity, it hath power to assimilate itself to every multitude. And so by the assimulative power of the complication of now or the present, it hath power assimilate itself to all time; and so by the assimulative power of th' complication of rests, to all motion; and of simplicity to every composition, and of identity to all diversity; and of equality to all inaquality, and of conjunctionto every dis-junction. And by the image of the absolute complication, which is the infinite mind, it hath power by which it can assimilate itself to every explication: and many such things thou seest of thyself, may be said, which our mind hath, because it is a certain image of the infinite simplicity which complicateth all things.  Phil. 
It seemeth then, that only the mind is the image of God.  Id. 
So it is properly: because all things that are after, (or beneath) the mind, are not the image of God, but only lie so far forth as the mind shineth, or appeareth in them: as it more shineth in perfect living wights, then in imperfect ones; and more insensible things, then in vegetables; and more in vegetables, then in minerals; so that creatures that want the mind, are rather explications, than images of the Divine simplicity: although according to the shining or appearing of the mental image, in explication, they do diversely partake of the image.  Phil. 
Aristotle said, there was no notion concreate (or made together with) the minder or soul, because he likened it to a smooth and shaved table: but Plato saith, there were notions concreated with it, yet that for the moles and weights of the body, the soul forgot them; what dost thou think to be the truth  Id. 
Undoubtedly our mind was, by God, put into this body, to the profit and advantage thereof; and therefore it must needs have from God all that, without which it could not acquire that profit and advantage, it is not therefore credible, that there were notions concreated with the soul, which it lost in the body: but because it hath need of a body, that the concreated power may proceed unto act. As the visive power of the soul cannot see actually, except it be stirred up by the object; and that cannot be, but by the representing of multiplied specis by then esn of the organ, and so it hath need of the eye. Even so the power of the mind, which is the comprehensive and national power, cannot porceed to its operations, except it be stirred up by sensible things, which it cannot be but by the mediation of sensible phantasmis. Therefore it hath need of an organical body, and such an one, without which it could not be stired up. In this therefore, Aristotle seems to have thought aright, that there are no notions of the soul concreated from the beginning, which it lost by being incorporated. But because it cannot profit, if it want all udgement, as a deaf man can never profit to become a lutenist, because he hath in himself no judgement of harmony, by which he may discern whether he do profit, therefore our soul hath a concreated judgement without which it could not profit. This judging power is naturally concreated with the mind, by which, of itself it judgeth whether discourses be weak, strong, or concluding. Which power if Plato called a concreated notion, he was not out of the way at all.  Phil. 
How clear is thy delivery, which every man that hears, is forced to assent unto. These things must be diligently marked, for we plainly find a spirit in our mind speaking and judging this good, that just, the other true, and reprehending us, if we decline from the just; which speech and judgement it learned not, and therefore it is connate or concreate.  Id. 
By this we prove, that the mind is that power which though it want all notional form, yet being stired up, can assimilate itself to every form, and make notions of all things: like, after a manner, to a sound eye which is in darkness, and never saw the light, for it wanteth all actual notion of visible things; yet coming into light, and being stirred up, it assimilates itself to the thing visible, that it may make a notion.  Ora. 
Plato saith, that judgement is then required, when the sense ministers contrary things at once.  Id. 
He spoke subtly, for when the touch confusedly finds hard and soft, or heavy and light, one contrary in another, than there is recourse to the understanding, that it may judge of the quiddity of both so confusedly perceived, that there are many things discreet.  
So when the sight confusedly sees great and little, is there not need of the discretive judgement of the understanding; what is great, and what little? but if the sense were of itself sufficient, there would no recourse be had to the judgements of the understanding, as in the sight of that which is light, when there is nothing presented which is contrary to it.   

CHAP. V How the mind is a living substance, created in the body; and of the manner how; whether their reason be in bruit beast: and how the living mind is the description of the eternal wisdom.  Phil. 
ALmost all the Peripatetics say, that the understanding, which thou seemest to call the mind, is a certain power of the Soul; and that to understand is an accident, what sayest thou to it?  Id. 
The mind is a living substance, which we find by experience, doth inwardly speak and judge in us, and which of all spiritual powers, that we find in ourselves, is more than any other power assimulated and made like to the infinite substance, an absolute form. The office of the mind in this body, to quicken it, and from hence it is called the soul; wherefore the mind is a substantial form, or a power that after its fastion, complicates in itself all things; and by quickening the living soul, whereby it animates the body, complicates the vegetative and sensitive life, and the power discursive, and intellectual, and intelligible.  Phil. 
Wilt thou have the mind, which thou confessed to be also the intellectual soul, to have been before the body, and afterwards incorporated, as Pythagoras, and the Platonists mean?  Id. 
In nature, not in time; for I compared it, as thou hardest, to the sight in darkness: now the sight was not actually before the eye, but only in nature; wherefore because the mind is a certain divine seed, that by its own power, doth notionally complicate the Samplers of all things; therefore is it by God (from whom it hath this power, in as much as it received its being) at the same time placed, and in a convenient earth, where it may bring forth fruit, and of itself notionally explicate the university of things; otherwise this seminal power had been given it in vain, if there had not been given withal, opportunity to break into act.  Phil. 
Thou speakest weightily. But I much desire to hear how this is done in us.  Id. 
The divine manners or ways, are never to be reached precisely; yet we make guesses and conjectures of them, some more clear, and some more dark ones. I think this similitude which I will tell thee, sufficient. For thou knowest that the fight by its own proper nature, doth not discern, but in a certain Globe, and confusedly perceives the obectacle meeting it within the spear of its motion, the eye which objectacle is generated by the multiplication of the species of the object into the eye. Therefore if the sight be present in the eye with out discretion, as in infants, where the use of discretion is wanting, than the mind comes so to the sensible soul, as discretion to the sight, by which it judgeth between colours. And as this visive disc etion is found in perfect brute living wights, (as in Dogs that know their own masters by sight) and is by God given unto the sight, as the perfection and form of seeing; so unto man's nature, besides that discretion which is found in bruits, there is given a higher power, that is unto animal discretion, ust as that is to the sensible power, so that the mind is the form of the animal discretion, and the perfection thereof.  Phi. 
Exceedingly well and sweetly, but me thinks thou drawest somewhat near the opinion of the wise Philo that said there was reason in beasts.  Id. 
We find by experience that there is in brute beasts a descretive discourse, without which their nature could not well subsist. Whereupon their discourse, (because it wants the form, namely the understanding or mind) is confused, for it wants judgement and knowledge; and because all discretion is from reason, therefore Philo seems to have said as he did not without reason, or absurdly.  Phil. 
Declare I pray thee, how the mind is the form of the discoursing reason.  Id. 
I have already told thee, that as the sight seethe, and knoweth not what it seethe, without discretion to inform, enlighten, and perfect it, so reason syllogyzeth, and knoweth not what it syllogizeth without the mind, but the mind enforms, enlightens, and perfects raciocination or discourse, that may know what it syllogizeth; as if an Idiot, not knowing the power of words should read some book; reading proceeds from the force of reason, for he readeth by running through the difference of letters, which he compounds and devideth; and this is the work of reason, and yet be knoweth not what he reads: and let there be another, which reads and knows, and understands what he reads. This is a certain similitude of reason confused, and reason form by the mind, for the mind hath the descretive judgement of the reasons, which reason is good, and which is sophistical: so that the mind is the discretive form of reasons, as reason is the discretive form of senses and imaginations.  Phil. 
From whence hath the mind this judgement, for she seem to give judgement of all things?  Id. 
It hath it from hence, because it is the image of the Sampler of all things; for God is the Sampler of all things. Therefore whereas the Smplar of all things shineth in the mind, as the truth in the image, it hath in itself, that where it looketh, and according to which it giveth judgement of outward things; as if there were a living Law written, that Law (because living) would read in itself the things that are to be judged. Right so the mind is a living description, of the eternal and infinite wisdom: but in cur minds, from the beginning, that life is like unto one that is a sleep, until it be stirred up by admiration, proceeding from sensible things, to be moved then by the motion of its intellectual life, it finds described in itself that which it seeketh. But thou must understand, that this description is a resplendance or shining of the Sampler of all things, after the same manner that the truth shineth in its image.  
As if the most simple, and indivisible sharpness of the corner of a Diamond, exceeding well polished, (in which the forms of all things did shine) were alive, then would it by looking into itself, find the similitudes it might frame, notions of all things.  Phil. 
Thou speakest very strange and delectable things. This example of the sharp pointed Diamond pleaseth exceedingly; for by how much more sharp and simple, that corner were, by so much more clearly would all things shine therein.  Id. 
He that considers in himself the power of a looking glass, how it is before all quantity, if he conceive it alive by an intellectual life, in which the Sampler of all things shineth, may make a tolerable conjecture of the mind.  Phil. 
I would hear whether thou canst paradigmatically, apply this thy art to the creation of the mind.  Id. 
Yes I can.  Auth. 
Then taking a fair spoon in his hand, he said.  Id. 
I would make a glazed spoon: I sought out first a wood exceeding hard and close: I applied my instruments, and I wrought out a convenient proportion, in which the form of a spoon did perfectly appear: afterwards I polished the surface of it so, that in the shining form of a spoon, I made the form of a glass, as thou seest, for though it be a fair spoon, yet withal it is a glazed spoon. For thou hast in it all kind of glasses, namely concave, connext, strait and calumnare, in the base of the handle strait glass; in the handle itself a columnar; in the concavity of the spoon a concave glass; and in the convexity a convex one. The glassy form, then, had no temporal being before the spoon, but to the perfection of the spoon, it was by me added to the first form of the spoon that it might perfect it: so that now the specular form contains in itself the form of the spoon, and yet the specular form is independent of the spoon; for it is not of the essence of a glass to be a spoon. Therefore though the proportions were broken, without which the form of a spoon cannot be; as put case the handle were separated from it, it would cease to be a spoon; but yet the form of a glass would not cease to be. Even so God by the motion of the heaven, out of fit matter hath brought a proportion, wherein animality might shine, after a more perfect manner, whereunto he afterwards added the mind, as a living glass by the means which I have said.   

CHAP. VI How wise men, in a simbolical kind of speaking, have called number the sampler of things; of the wonderful nature thereof. And how it is from the mind, and the incorruptibility of Essences. And how the mind is an harmony, a number moving itself, a compisition of the same and that which is divers.  Phil. 
THou hast aptly appyed it; and in saying there is one intellect, thou openest how the production of things is: and how proportion is the place, or be, or region of form; and matter the place of proportion. And thou seemest to be much of the opinion of Pythagoras, who held all things to be of or from number.  Id. 
Whether I be a Pythagorean or no, I know not; this I am sure of, that no man's authority moves me, though sometimes it offer to do so. But I think the Pythagoreans, which, as thou sayest, do Philosophise all things by numbers, very grave and witty men. Nor do I believe that they meant our mathematical number, which proceeds from our mind, for it is manifest, that cannot be the beginning of any thing; they speak symbolically and rationally, of the number which proceeds from the Divine mind, of which mathematical number is but the image. For as our mind is in relation to that eternal infinite mind; so the number of our mind, to the number of that mind; and we give that number our name, as we give to that mind, the name of our mind; and we are much delighted to be conversant in number, as in our own proper work.  Phil. 
Lay open, I pray thee the motives, that may move one to say, that numbers are the beginnings of things.  Id. 
There can be but one infinite beginning; and this alone is infinitely simple. But the first thing principiated, or that hath a beginning, cannot be infinitely simple (as appears by itself) neither can it be propounded of other things compounding it; for than it were not the first thing that had a beginning, but the things that compound it, must in nature go before it. We must therefore admit, that the first thing that had a beginning, is so compounded, that yet it is not compounded of other things, but of itself: and our mind cannot comprehend how any such thing should be, except it be number, or as the number of our mind. For number is compounded, and compounded of itself, (for so even and odd, is every number compounded) so, number is compounded of itself. If thou sayest that the third number is compounded of three unities, thou speakest as though one should say, that the wales and the roof, do severally make an house: for if the walls be a part, and the roof a part, a house is not compounded of them, nor more do three unities apart, make the number three. Therefore if thou consider unities as they constitute a ternary, thou considerest them united, and that then three unities united are nothing but a ternary; and so it is compounded of itself, and so of all numbers: Nay that which is more, while in number I look upon nothing but unity, I see an uncompounded composition of number, and a coinsidence of simplicity and composition, or of unity and multitude; yea, if I yet look more sharply into it, I see a compounded unity of number, as in the harmonical unities, diapason, diapente, diatessaron: for an harmonical habitude is a unity, which without number cannot be understood. Moreover, from the habitude of a semitone, and a doubled mediety, which is as the habitude of the side of a square to the diameter, I see a more simple number, than the reason of our mind can reach unto. For habitude (or proportion) is not understood without number, and yet that number must be at once both odd and even, of which, a long discourse, and very pleasant might be made, if we did not make haste to other things. We have now therefore learned, how the first thing that was begun, is that whereof number bears the Type. Nor can we by any other means come nearer the quiddity thereof, seeing the precision of the quiddity of whatsoever thing it it be, is by us utterly inattingable, otherwise then in an enigma or figure. For the first thing that had a beginning, we do symbolically call number, because number is the subject of proportion, for there can be no proportion without number. And proportion is the place of the form; for without a proportion fit and agreeable to the form, the form can in no case shine or appear, as I said, that the proportion befitting a spoon, being broken, the form cannot remain, because it hath no place: for proportion is as it were the aptitude of the specular surface to the resplendence of the image, which not abiding, the representation ceaseth. Behold how the infinite unity of the sampler, cannot appear but in an apt proportion, and that is in number. For the eternal mind doth act, as a musician which would make his conception sensible; for he takes many voices, and brings them into a proportion agreeing to that harmony, that in that proportion, the harmony may sweetly and perfectly appear, when it is there as in its place, and the respendence of the harmony is varied according to the variety of the proportion that is fit for it; and the harmony ceaseth, when the aptitude of that proportion ceaseth. From the mind therefore is number and all things.  Phil. 
What, is there not a plurality of things without the consideration of our mind?  Id. 
Yes; but it is from the Divine mind; wherefore as in regard of God, plurality of things is from the Divine mind; so in regard of us, plurality of things is from our minds: for only the mind numbers, and the mind taken away, there is no discrete number. For in that the mind doth singularly and particularly understand one and the same thing, we when we consider it, say it is one thing: in that it doth singularly understand one thing, and that once, it is in truth the equality of unity. But when it understands one thing singularly, and by multiplying it, we judge the things to be more, in saying two: because the mind understandeth that which is singularly one and the same thing, twice, or by doubling it. And so of the rest.  Phil. 
Doth not a ternary consist of a binary and a unity? and we say that number is a collection of singulars; how dost thou then say, that it is of the mind?  Id. 
Those ways of speaking must be referred to the way of understanding; because to collect is no more, then to take one and the same common thing, and multiply it about the same things. Therefore when thou seest, that without the multitude of the mind, a binary or ternary is nothing, thou seest well enough, that number is from the mind.  Phil. 
How is the plurality of things, the number of the Divine mind?  Id. 
Because from that the Divine mine understands one thing so, and another thing otherwise; the plurality of things ariseth. Therefore if thou look narrowly into it, thou shalt find the plurality of things to be nothing but the Divine minds manner of understanding: So I conjecture one may without blame say, that the first sampler of things, in the mind of the Creator, is number. This appears by the delight and beauty, that is in all things which consisteth in proportion as that in number. Hereupon number is the principal step leading unto wisdom.  Phil. 
The Pythagoreans said so first, than the Platonists, whom also Severinus Boetius imitates.  Id. 
Likewise, say I, that the sampler of the conceptions of our mind, is number: for without number it can do nothing. If there were no number, there would neither be assimilation, notion, discretion, nor measure. For without number things cannot be other and other, or discrete: nor can it be understood how one thing should be substance, another quantity, and so of the rest. Therefore seeing number is the manner of understanding, nothing can be without it understood. For the number of our mind, being the image of the Divine mind the sampler of things, is the sampler of notions. And as unity is before all plurality, and this unity uniting is the uncreated mind, in which all things are one; after one plurality, the explication of the power of that unity, which power is the entity of things, the equality of being, and the connexion of entity and equality; and this is the blessed Trinity: So in our mind is the image of that Divine Trinity: for our mind is likewise a unity uniting, before all plurality by the conceptible mind; and after that unity that unites all plurality, is plurality, which is the image of the plurality of things; as our mind is the image of the Divine mind: and plurality explicates the power of the unity of the mind, which power is the image of entity, equality and connexion.  Phil. 
I see that by number thou reachest to marvellous things. Go too therefore, because Saint Dionysius saith, that the essences of things are incorruptible, canst thou demonstrate this by number?  Id. 
When thou considerest that number is made of the multitude of unities, and that alterity doth contingently follow multiplication; and markest the composition of number to be of unity and alterity, the same and divers, even and odd, divisible and indivisible: And that the quiddity of all things had its beginning from being the number of the Divine mind; then thou mayest after some fashion reach unto it, how the essences of things are incorruptible, as unity, whereof is number, which unity is entity. And how things are so or so by alterity, which is not or the essence of number, but accidentally following the multipliciation of unity. So alterity is of the essence of nothing: for alterity pertains to destruction; because it is division, from whence is corruption, and therefore it cannot be of the essence of the thing. Thou seest moreover how number is no other thing then the things numbered. From whence thou mayest conclude, that between the Divine mind and things, there mediates no number, which hath any actual being; but the number of things are the things themselves.   

CHAP. VII. How the mind of itself works out the forms of things, by way of assimilation; and reacheth absolute possibility or matter.  Phil. 
TEll me I pray thee, dost thou think our mind is a harmony? or a number moving itself? or a composition of the same and divers? or of an essence divisible and indivisible? or an entelechia? for such manner of speaking the Platonists and Peripatetics use?  Id. 
I do believe that all they which have spoken of the mind, might use these or the like speeches, moved by those things which they did experimentally find in the power of the mind; for they found the judgement of all harmony to be in the mind; and that the mind out of itself fashioneth notions, and that it so moves itself, as a living discretive number would of itself proceed to make discretions. And again they found that it proceeds in any particular, collectively, or distributively, either according to the manner of simplicity, and absolute necessity, or of absolute possibility, or necessity of complexion, or determinately, or of a possibility determinate, or because of the aptitude of a perpetual motion. Because of these and the like experiments, it is probably to be believed, they said those or the like things of the mind or soul. For to say that the mind is of the same and divers, is to say it is of unity, and alterity; after the same manner that a number is compounded of the same, in regard of the common or universal of that which is divers, in regard of singulars, or particulars; which both are ways of the minds understanding.  Phil. 
Go on, I pray thee, to declare how the mind may be said to be a number moving itself.  Id. 
I think no man can deny, but that the mind is a certain divine living number, excellently proportioned to the resplendence of manifesting, and showing of the divine harmony, and complicating every sensible, rational, and intellectual harmony; and whatsoever can be better expressed about this matter. Insomuch that every number proportion, and harmony which proceeds from our mind, doth as little reach or come near our mind, as our mind doth to the infinite mind. For the mind, though it be a divine number, yet it is so a number, that it is a simple unity, by its own power putting forth its number. So that look what proportion there is between God and his works; the same there is between the works of the mind, and the mind itself.  Phil. 
There are very many that would have our mind to be of the divine nature, and most merely conjoined to the divine mind.  l. 
I do not think they meant any otherwise then as I have laid, although they had another manner of speaking. For between the divine mind and ours, there is the same difference, that there is between doing and seeing; for the divine mind by conceiving creates, but ours by conceiving assimilates, in making notions or intellectual visions. The divine mind is a power, making things to be; but ours an assimilative power.  Orat. 
I see that the Philosopher hath not time enough to satisfy himself, and therefore I have kept silence a long time; I have heard many, and very pleasing things; yet would I feign hear further, how the mind of itself, puts forth the forms of things by way of assimulation?  Id. 
The mind is so assimilative, that in the sight it makes itself like visible things; and in the hearing to audible things; in the taste, to things tastable; in the smell, to things odorable; in the touch, to things tangible; in the sense, to things sensible; in the imagination, to things imaginable; and in the reason, to reasonable things. For the image in the absence of sensible things, is as some sense without the discretion of sensible things; for it conforms itself to sensible things absent, but confusedly, and without discerning of state from state. But in reason it conforms itself to things with discerning of state from state. In all those places our mind, is carried in the spirit of the Arteries; which being stirred up by meeting with species multiplied from the objects to the spirits, assimilates itself by the things to the species; that by assimilation it may give judgement of the objects: Whereupon that subtle spirit of the Arteries, which is enlivened by the mind, is so by the mind conformed unto the similitude of the species, which was objected to the motion of the spirit; As soft wax is by a man, having the use and art of the mind, configured unto the thing then presently presented to the workman: for all configurations whether in the art of carving, painting, or hammering, cannot be done without the mind, for it is the mind which terminates all things. Therefore if we could imagine a piece of wax informed by the mind; then the mind being within it, would configure it, or make it like to every figure presented unto it; as now the mind of the Artificer, being applied from without labours to do. So likewise of clay, and every flexible or fashionable thing. So in our body, the mind according to the various flexiblenesse of the spirits of the Arteries in the Organs, makes divers configurations, subtle and gross; and one spirit is not configurable to that, to which another is; because the spirit in the optic nerve, cannot be met withal, and encountered by the species of sounds, but only by the species of colours; & therefore is configurable to the species of colours, and not of sounds, and so of the rest.  
There is likewise another spirit which is configurable to all sensible species, which is in the Organ of the imaginative power, but after a gross and indiscreet, or undistinguished manner. And there is another in the Organ of the ratiocinative, or discursive power, which is configurable to all sensible things, discretly and clearly. And all these configurations are assimilations to sensible things, when thy are done by the means of corporal spirits, though never so subtle; wherefore, when the mind makes these assimilations, that it may have the motions of sensible things, and so is drownned in the corporal spirit, than it acteth as the soul animating a body, by which animation the power of a living wight is constituted.  
And hereupon the soul of brute beasts makes the like assimilation after its manner, (though more confused) that it may after its manner attain to notions.  
But our power of the mind, from such notions as these so elicited & drawn out by assimilation, makes Mechanic arts physical and logical conjectures, and reacheth things in the manner, whereby they are conceived in the possibility of being, or matter, and in the manner, whereby the possibility of being, or matter is determined by the form. Wherefore, seeing that by these assimilations it reacheth none but the notions of sensible things, where the forms of things are not true, but shadowed with the variableness of matter: therefore all such notions, are rather conjectures then truth; for this cause I say that the notions which are reached by rational assimilations, are uncertain, because they are rather according to the images of forms, than the truths. Afterwards our mind, not as drowned in the body which it animates, but as it is the mind of itself; yet in possibility of being united to the body, while it looks unto its immutability, makes assimilation of forms, not as they are drowned in the matter, but as they are in and of themselves, and conceives the immutable quiddities of things, using itself for an instrument, without any organical spirit. As whilst it conceives that a circle is a figure, from whose centre all the lines drawn to the circumference are equal: after which manner of being, a circle without the mind, cannot be in matter; for it is impossible there should be given in matter two equal lines; and it is less possible, that such a circle should be figured; and therefore a circle in the mind, is the Sampler and measure of the truth of a circle in the pavement. So we say that the truth of things in the mind, is in the necessity of complexion; to wit, after the manner that the truth of a thing requireth, as we have said of the circle. And because the mind, as in itself, and abstracted from matter, makes these assimilations, therefore it assimilateth itself to abstracted forms. And according to this power it shows or puts forth certain mathematical sciences, and finds its power to be that it can assimilate itself to things, as they are in the necessity of complexion, and make notions; and it is stirred up to these abstractive assimilations, by the Phantasms or images of forms, which it lays hold on by the assimilations made in the Organs. As by the beauty of an image, one is moved to inquire the beauty of the Sampler; and in this assimilation the mind is, as if absolute pliableness, abstracted from Wax, Clay, Metals, and all other flexible things, were living by a mental life, that it could of itself assimilate itself to all figures, as they subsist in themselves, and not in the matter; for such flexibility, in the power of its living flexibility, that is in itself, would behold that the notions of all things are, in as much as it could conform itself to all things. And because the mind is not yet satisfied with this, because it sees not the precise truth of all things, but in a certain necessity determined to every thing, as one thing is so, and another thing so, and every thing compounded of its parts: and it sees that this manner of being is not the truth itself, but the participation of truth, that one is truly so, and another thing truly otherwise, which alterity cannot agree to the truth in itself, in its self, considered in its own absolute and infinite precision: whereupon the mind looking to its simplicity, to wit, as it is not only abstracted from matter, but incommunicable to matter, or after the manner of a form not unible, useth this simplicity as an instrument, that it may assimilate itself to all things, not only abstractedly, but also in its simplicity incommunicable to matter. And after this manner it beholdeth all things in its simplicity; as if it should see all greatness in a point, and a circle in the centre: and there it sees without all composition of parts, and not as this is one thing, and that another, but as all things are one, and one all things. And this is the beholding of absolute truth, as if one could, after the last-before-spoken manner, behold how entity itself, is in all beings variously participated. And if after this he could in the manner (of which we now speak) above participation, and all truth, simply behold absolute entity itself; such a one might truly, above the determinate necessity of complexion; now see all things which erst he saw in variety, without it, in absolute necessity, most simply without number, greatness, and any alterity. And in this highest manner, the mind uses itself, as it is the image of God, and as God; which is all things, shineth in it, namely, when, as the living image of God, it doth with all its power, turn itself to its Sampler. And in this manner, it sees all things one thing, and itself the assimilation of that one thing, by which it frames notions of the one, that it is all things, and so makes Theological speculations: where, as in the end of all notions, it sweetly resteth, as in the most delectable truth of its life; of which manner, there can never be enough said; but these things which I have thus spoken without curiosity, and after a plain manner, thou mayst by thy elegant stile make more polite, and welcome to the reader.  Orat. 
I had no desire, but to bear what I have heard, which thou hast plainly declared; and that will be to them that seek the truth, elegance enough.  Phil. 
I pray thee, declare further, how the mind reacheth indeterminate possibility, which we call matter?  Id. 
By a certain counterfeit way, and a contrary manner, whereby it passeth from a necessity of complexion, to an absolute necessity; for seeing how all bodies have to be form by corporiety, taking that away it seethe all it law before it as a certain indeterminate possibility. And those things which before it saw in corporiety distinct and determinate, as being in act, now it seethe confused and indeterminate, inpossibility. And this is the manner of universality, by which all things are seen in possibility; yet it is not the manner of being, because it is not power-being or posse esse.   

CHAP. VIII. How it is the same thing, to the mind to conceive, to understand notions, and to make assimilations. And how sensations are made, according to the naturalists.  Phil. 
ENough of this, lest we exceed our purpose now tell me, if in or to the mind, to conceive, be to understand?  Id. 
I have said that the mind is the power of conceiving; so that being stirred up, it moveth itself by conceiving till it understand. Wherefore understanding is the perfect motion of the mind.  Phil. 
When is it said to conceive?  Id. 
When it makes the similitudes of things: or, if thou hadst rather say, notions, or kinds, differences, species, proper, and accident. For God created in the soul the power of conceiving, and the mind doth the things aforesaid; yet are all these one and the same thing, the power of the mind, conception, similitude, notion, kind, and species. And although we do not call it the same thing to understand and to conceive, yet whatsoever is understood, is conceived, and whatsoever is conceived is understood: but only that which is actual is understood, and not conceived.  Phil. 
How meanest thou that?  Id. 
To conceive is nothing but to comprehend either after the manner of matter, or form, or some other way; but that which is actually, is said to be understood; that is, the property of it is comprehended by the mind. The mind is also said to understand, by which it is moved, and the beginning of the motion is rather called passion; the perfection of it, understanding. But as a disposition and habit are the same, considering a disposition tends to perfection, and after perfection is a habit; so the passion of the mind and the understanding are one and the same thing.  Phil. 
Yet the understanding doth not seem to say, or imply perfection.  Id. 
Thou sayest well; properly the mind is said to understand when it is moved; although it be not called unstanding, but after perfection.  Phil. 
Are therefore all these one and the same, to wit, the power of conceiving, conception, similitude, notion, passion, and understanding?  Id. 
They are so the same, that the power of conceiving is not any of them: because it is called a power, from an aptitude, which it hath from its creation; a conception, from the imitation, because it imitates the matter or form, namely, in that it comprehends after the manner of the matter or form of the compound.  
And in what respect it is called conception, in the same also it is called the similitude or notion of the thing; and these names are truly predicated one of another, and every one of them is called understanding.  Phil. 
I wonder how conception can be called understanding?  Id. 
Although the conception be called from imitation, and understanding from perfection, yet it is perfection, which is the cause why understanding is called conception: for than doth the mind conceive, when the understanding is lead to perfection.  Phil. 
Paradventure thou wilt likewise admit that the understanding should be called the passion of the mind?  Id. 
Yes that I will; for the understanding is the motion of the mind, the beginning whereof is passion.  Phil. 
Therefore conception is a passion too?  Id. 
It follows not, as thou seest of thyself. In like manner although the kinds and species be the understanding, yet are they not therefore passions of the soul; for the passions of the soul vanish, and yet the kinds and species of things remain.  Phil. 
Enough of this, seeing divers men speak diversely thereof. But tell me, how dost thou call that power of the mind by which it sees all things in the necessity of complexion; and that other by which it sees them in an absolute necessity?  Id. 
I that am an Idiot, do not much regard words, yet I think that power may conveniently be called discipline, whereby the mind looking to its own immutability, considers the forms of things without matter; because that by discipline and learning men come to this consideration of the form. But that power, by which the mind looking to its own simplicity, doth therein behold all things without composition, may be called intelligence.  Phil. 
It is read, that some men call that power which thou callest doctrine or learning, intelligence; and that which thou callest intelligence, intelligibility.  Id. 
It doth not displease me; for they may conveniently be so called.  Orat. 
I could wish to hear from thee Philosopher, how the Naturalists suppose sensations are done; for in this I think thee more skilful than the Idiot, who will also be glad if thou wilt so do.  Phil. 
I should be glad if I could rehearse any part of that which I have heard. That which thou required is thus: The Naturalists say, that the soul is mixed with a most thin and subtle spirit, scattered clean through the Arteries; so that, that spirit is the carriage of the soul; and the vehiculum or carriage of that spirit, is the blood. There is therefore one nerve or artery full of that spirit, which is directed to the eyes, so that near unto the eyes it is forked, and being filled with that spirit, it comes to the balls of the eyes wherein is the apple; that spirit then so dispersed through the arteries, the instrument of the soul, by which it exerciseth the sense of seeing; Two arteries full of the same spirit, are directed to the ears; likewise to the nostrils, and to the palate, are certain arteries directed; and that spirit is diffused by the marrow even unto the extremities or ends of the joints. That spirit which is directed to the eyes is most active and nimble: and therefore when it finds any outward objects, the spirit is repercussed or stricken back, and the soul is stirred up, to see that which it meets withal. So in the ear it is repercussed with the voice, and the soul excited to comprehend: and as hearing is done in a most thin air, so is smelling in a thick or rather fumous air, which when it entereth the nostrils, by its sumosity retards the spirit, so that the soul is excited to comprehend the odour of that fumosity. Likewise when a spongious humour enters the palate, the spirit is retarded, and the soul excited to taste; So the soul useth the spirit diffused through the marrow, for the instrument of touching: for when any solid thing meets with the body, the spirit is offended, and after a manner retarded, and thence is touching. About the eyes, the soul useth a fiery power, about the ears an aethereal, or rather a pure airy one; about the nostrils a thick and fumous airy one; about the palate, a watery power; about the marrow, an earthy one; And this according to the order of the four elements. That as the eyes are higher than the ears, so the spirit which is directed to the eyes, is higher and superior, and may after a manner be called fiery. So that in man, the disposition of the senses is in a manner like the disposition of the order of the four elements, whereupon seeing is swifter than hearing, and therefore we see the lightning before we hear the thunder, although they be both at once. Moreover the strong subtle and acute direction of the beams of the eyes, makes the air give way unto it, and nothing can withstand it, except it be gross, earthy, or watery. Seeing then the spirit is the instrument of the senses, and the eyes, nostrils, and other sensories, are as windows and ways by which that spirit may go out to perceive, it is manifest that nothing is perceived but by a let or obstacle, that (as soon as any thing hinders it) that spirit which is the instrument of perceiving may be retarded, and the soul being as it were retarded, may confusedly by the senses comprehend the thing that hinders it. For the sense, of itself, terminates nothing: and if when we see any thing, we put a bound in it, that is not the work of the sense, but of the imagination which is joined to the sense. There is moreover in the fore part of the head, in the fantastical cell, a certain spirit much more subtle and nimble then that which is diffused through the Arteries, which when the mind useth as its instrument, it is made more subtle, that though the thing be absent, it can comprehend the form in the matter, which power of the soul is called imagination; because by it, the soul conforms unto itself the image of the thing absent; and it differs in this from the sense, because the sense comprehends the form in the matter, only while the thing is present; but imagination doth it as well, when the thing is absent, but confusedly, so that it discerns not the state, but comprehends many states together confusedly. But there is in the middle part of the head, to wit, in that cell which is called rational, a most subtle spirit, thinner far than that in the fantastical cell, and when the soul useth that spirit as her instrument, it is yet more subtible, insomuch that it discerneth state from state; yet doth it not comprehend the truth of things, because it comprehends forms mingled with matter; but matter confounds the thing form, so that the truth of it cannot be comprehended. And this power of the soul is called reason. After these three manners the soul useth a corporal nstrument. By itself the soul comprehends, when it takes itself into itself (or retires into itself) so that it useth itself for an instrument, as we have heard from thee.   

CHAP. IX. How the mind measureth all things by making a point, a line, and a surface: how one point it both the complication and explication of a line, and of the nature of complication; and how it makes adequate measure of divers things: and by what it is stirred up to do it.  Orat. 
THe Naturalists that after experience have made these things manifest, are much to be commended, cettainely, because they are fair and pleasant things.  Id. 
So doth a lover of wisdom deserve great praise and thanks.  Phil. 
I see the night draws on, and therefore I will have thee, Idiot, make haste to many things that are yet behind, and expound unto us, how the mind measureth all things, as thou toldest us in the beginning.  Id. 
The mind makes a point to be the term of a line, and a line the term of a surface; and the surface, it makes the number of the body; therefore multitude and magnitude are from the mind, and so it measures all things.  Phil. 
Declare how the mind maketh a point.  Id. 
Because a line is the joining of one point to another, or the term of a line. Therefore when thou wilt think a line, thy mind may consider in itself the joinings of the two halfs thereof; which if it do, it will be a line of two points, because of the two terms thereof, and the joining of the two halfs which the mind hath propounded to itself. Nor are they divers kinds of points, the term of a line, and the joining; for the joining of the two halfs, is therefore the term of the lines. And if the mind give unto either half its proper term, it will be a line of four parts. So by how many parts soever the fore-imagined line be divided, look how many terms there are of those parts, of so many points shall the said line be judged to be.  Phil. 
How doth the mind make a line?  Id. 
In considering length without breadth: and so it makes a surface, in considering breadth without solidity. Although, indeed, neither a point, nor line, nor surface can be actually; seeing only solidity doth actually exist without the mind. So the measure and term of every thing is from the mind; and though wood and stones, have a tertaine measure and term besides our mind, yet they have them from the uncreated mind from which every term of things descends.  Phil. 
Dost thou think a point to be indivisible?  Id. 
I think a terminal point indivisible, because of a term there is no term; and if that were divisible, than it were not a term, because it had a term.  
Nor more hath a point any quantity: nor can a quantity be made of points; for of those things that have no quantity, it cannot be made.  Phil. 
Thou agreest well with Boetius, saying, if thou add a point to a point, thou dost no more than if thou add nothing to nothing.  Id. 
Therefore if thou join together the terms of two lines, thou makest indeed the line the longer, but yet the conjunction of the terms shall make no quantity.  Phil. 
Dost thou then say, there are many points?  Id. 
Neither many points, nor many unities; but seeing a point is the term of a line, it may everywhere be found in the line: yet there is in it but one point, which being extended is a line.  Phil. 
There is therefore nothing in truth found in a line besides a point?  Id. 
True; yet for the variableness of the matter which is under it, there is there a certain extension. As there being but one unity, yet is number said to consist of many unities, because of the alterity of those things that are subjects to unity. A line therefore is the evolution (or flux) of a point; so is a surface of a line, and solidity of a surface: so that take away a point, and all greatness faileth; take away unity, and all multitude faileth.  Phil. 
How dost thou understand that a line is the Evolution (or unwinding) of a point?  Id. 
By evolution I mean explication, which is nothing else then for a point to be in many atoms, so that it is in every of them conjoined and continued. For it is one and the same point in all atoms (or indivisibles) as one & the same whiteness in all things that are white.  Phil. 
What dost thou understand by an atom?  Id. 
According to the consideration of the mind, that which is continued is divided into that which is ever divisible: and multitude (or number) increaseth into infinity. But dividing them actually, we come to a part, which is actually indivisible, which I call an atom: For an atom is a quantity, which for its littleness is actually indivisible. So in the consideration of the mind, multitude hath no end, which yet notwithstanding is actually terminated: for all the multitude of things falls under a certain determinate number, though to us unknown.  Phil. 
Is a point the perfection of a line, being it is the term thereof?  Id. 
It is the perfection and totality thereof, which complicates in itself a line. For to point a thing is to terminate it, and where it is terminated, there it is perfected; and the perfection thereof, is the totality of it. Therefore is a point the term of a line, and its totality and perfection, which complicates in itself a line, as a line explicates a point. For when I say in Geometry, that the total perfection of a line, is from this point, A unto B, then before the drawing of the line, from A to B. by by the points A. B. have I already designed the totality of the line, namely that the line must not be drawn out any further. Therefore that which actually, or intellectually is to include the totality between this, and this; that it is to complicate a line in appoint. And to explicate it, is to draw a line particularly from A to B. and so a line explicates the complication of a point.  Phil. 
I had thought a point had been the complication of a line, as unity is of number; because as there is nothing in number but unity, so there is nothing in a line, but a point everywhere.  Id. 
Thou hast not said amiss. It is the same thing in divers words; and the same manner of speaking, mayst thou use in all complications; for motion is the explication of rest, there being nothing found in motion but rest. So now, (or the instant) is explicated by time, because there is nothing found in time, but nows or instants. So of the rest.  Phil. 
How sayest thou, there is nothing in motion but rest?  Id. 
Because to move, is to fall from one state to another; for as long as a thing is in one state, it is not moved, and so there is nothing found in motion but rest. For motion is a departure from one; therefore to be moved, is a departure from one, unto another one: So that to pass from rest to rest, is to be moved. And to be moved, is nothing but an ordered rest, or rest successively ordered.  
He doth much profit himself, that seriously considers complications, and their explications; especially, how all complications are images of the complication of infinite simplicity, and not explications thereof, but images, and are under the necessity of complexion. And the mind, the first image of the complication of divine simplicity, by its own power, comprehending the power of these complications, is the place or region of the necessity of complexion; because those things that truly are, are abstracted from the variableness of matter, and are not materially but mentally; whereof already sufficiently.  Phil. 
I wonder, seeing as thou sayest, Idiot, the mind is the measure of things, why it is carried to the measure of things, with so great desire?  Id. 
That it may reach its own measure; for the mind is a living measure, which by measuring other things, reacheth its own capacity. For it doth all things, that it may know itself. But though it seek the measure of itself in every thing, yet it finds it not; but where all things are one thing, there is the truth of its precision, because there is the adequate Sampler thereof.  Phil. 
How can the mind make itself the adequate Sampler of so divers things?  Id. 
As an absolute face might make itself the measure of all faces; for when thou considerest that the mind is a certain absolute measure, which can be neither greater, nor less, being uncontracted to quantity: And furthermore that it is a living measure, measuring by itself, as though aliving pair of compasses, should measure by themselves, than thou reachest how it makes itself a notion, measure, or sampler, that it might in all things reach itself.  Phil. 
I do understand the like in a compass, which is of no determinate quantity, because a compass, yet is extended, and contracted, that it may be like the things determinate. But tell me, doth the mind assimilate itself to the manners of being?  Id. 
Yea to all of them, for it conforms itself to possibility, that it may measure all things possibly: so to absolute necessity, that like God, it may measure all things unitedly and simply; so to the necessity of complexion, that it may measure all things in their proper being; and unto determinate possibility, that it may measure all things as they existe. For it measures symbolically, by way of comparison, as when it useth number, and Geometrical figures and accomodates itself to the likeness of such things. Wherefore, to him that looks narrowly into the matter, it appears, that the mind is a living and uncontracted similitude of infinite equality.   

CHAP. X. How the comprehension of the truth, is in multitude and magnitude.  Phil. 
LEt it not be grievous unto thee, to continue thy disourse until night, my dear friend, that I may still enjoy thy presence; for to morrow I must of necessity be gone; and therefore I pray thee, expound unto me that saying of the learned Boetius, what he means when he saith, that the comprehension of the truth of all things, is in multitude and magnitude.  Id. 
I think that in multitude, he had relation to discretion, and in magnitude to integrity or wholeness. For he doth rightly comprehend the truth of a thing, which discerns, or distinguisheth it from all other things; and he also reacheth the integrity or wholeness of a thing, beyond which, or short of it, the whole being of a thing cannot subsist. Therefore learning or discipline in Geometry, determines the whole being of a Triangle so, that it cannot be either beyond, or on this side, either more or less.  
In Astronomy it determines the whole being of motion; by the doctrine or discipline of greatness is had the term and measure of the whole being of things; as by that of number, the discretion of things; for number doth much avail to distinguish the confusion of things that are common; likewise to collect the terms and communion of things; But greatness is available to comprehend the term, and measure of the whole being of things.  Phil. 
If magnitude do distinguish the integrity from all things, there is then nothing known, unless all things be known.  Id. 
Thou sayest the truth; for the part is not known, except the whole be known; for the whole measureth the part. For when I do cut a Spoon out of the wood by parts, one piece after another, while I fit every part, I look to the whole, that so I may make a well proportioned Spoon; so that the whole Spoon which I have conceived in my mind, is the Sampler which I have an eye unto, while I frame every part thereof. And then can I make a perfect Spoon, when every part keeps its due proportion in order to the whole; likewise also ought every part compared to part, to observe its integrity or wholeness. Therefore it must needs be that to the knowledge of one Spoon, there proceeds the knowledge of the whole, and of the parts thereof. Wherefore if God, who is the Sampler of the universe be not known, there is nothing of the whole university of things known; and if the university be not known, it is manifest that nothing can be known of the parts thereof. So that the knowledge of God, & of all things, must go before the knowledge of any thing in particular.  Phil. 
Tell me further, I pray thee, why he saith that without the Quadrivium (or four ways in one) no man can righty philosophise?  Id. 
For the reason aforesaid; for because in Arithmetic, and music is contained the power of numbers, from whence is had the description of things; and in Geometry and Astronomy, is contained the Doctrine of greatness, from whence flows all the comprehension of the whole being, therefore can no man Philosophise without the quadrivium.  Phil. 
I wonder whether he meant, that all that is, is either greatness or multitude?  Id. 
I do not think he did, but that all that is, falls under greatness or multitude, because the demonstration of all things is made according to the power, of the one or the other; for magnitude terminates, multitude discerns. Therefore the definition which terminates and includs the whole being, hath the power of magnitude, and pertains unto it; and the demonstration of definitions, is necessary according to the power of magnitude; but division, and the demonstration of divisions according to the multitude; moreover the demonstrations of syllogisms, are made according to the power, both of multitude & magnitude. For that of two propositions, the third is concluded, it is of multitude; but that it consists of universals and particulars, it is of magnitude. He that had more leisure than we have, might also deduce from hence, how quantities and qualities, & the other predicaments, which give us the notice of things, descend from multitude; but how this is done, it is hardly known.   

CHAP. XI. How all things in God are in a trinity, and likewise in our mind: and how our mind is compounded of the several manners of comprehending.  Phil. 
THou spakest somewhat above, of the trinity of God, and the trinity of the mind; I pray thee declare how all things are in God in trinity, and likewise in our mind.  Id. 
You Philosophers do affirm, that the ten most general kinds do contain all things.  Phil. 
Yes without doubt.  Id. 
Doest-not thou, as thou considerest them in act, see that they are divided?  Phil. 
Yes.  Id. 
But when thou considerest them before the beginhing of being without division, what else can they be but eternity? for connexion is before all division. Therefore it must needs be, that before all division, they were united and knit together. But connexion which is before all division, is most simple eternity, which is God. Furthermore, it cannot be denied, that whereas God is perfect; and perfect is that whereunto nothing is wanting; hereupon it followeth, that the university of things, is in perfection, which is God. But the highest perfection requireth that it be simple and one, without Alterity and diversity; and therefore all things in God are one.  Phil. 
It is a plain and pleasant demonstration thou makest; but show how in trinity.  Id. 
This were to be handled in another place, that it might be spoken of more clearly; but since I have determined to deny thee nothing to my utmost power, take it thus. Thou hast already heard, that from eternity all things in God are God. Consider therefore the university of things in time; and being that nothing impossible is made, dost thou not see that the university might have been made from eternal?  Phil. 
My mind assents unto't.  Id. 
Therefore in thy mind, thou seest all things in that their may-be-made, or posse fieri?  Phil. 
Thou sayest well.  Id. 
And if they could have been made, there must needs be something that could make them before they were; a posse-facere, before a possefieri.  Phil. 
There was.  Id. 
So before the temporal university of things, thou seest all things in him, that could make them.  Phil. 
I do see them so.  Id. 
Well then, that the unversity of things which thou considerest with the eye of thy mind, in the absolute could-be-made, and the could-make, might come into being, was there not necessary a bond, knot, or connexion between them both, the could-be-made, and the could-make; or else that which could-be-made by him that could-make, had never been made?  Phil. 
Thou sayest exceeding well.  Id. 
Thou seest then before all temporal existence, all things in the knot or bond, proceeding from the absolute could-be-made, and the absolute could-make: but these three absolutes, are before all time simple eternity. And therefore thou seest all things in simple eternity after the manner of a Trinity.  Phil. 
Most sufficiently.  Id. 
Mark then diligently how the absolute could-be-made, and the absolute could-make, and the absolute knot, are but one infinitely absolute, and one deity; And that could-be-made is in order before could-make; for every making presupposeth that it could be made, and could-make hath what it hath, namely that it could-make, from could-be-made, and the knot or band from them both. Therefore, whereas order saith that could-be-made precedes, therefore is unity attributed unto it, in which unity is precedence: & unto could-make is attributed equality, which presupposeth unity; from both which is the bond or knot: and let these things, if so it seem good, be sufficient of this matter.  Phil. 
Only one thing more, and that is, whether God do understand as three and one?  Id. 
The eternal mind understandeth all things in the unity of unity equality, and the bond of both: for how should God understand even in eternity without all succession, without entity, the equality of entity, and the knot of both? which are Trinity in unity. Not that God pretermits something after the manner of matter, or understands by succession, as we do; but his understanding, being his standing, essence, is necessarily in a Trinity.  Thil. 
Now add unto it, whether it be so also in our mind, after the manner thereof?  Id. 
I hold for certain, that all things principiated or begun, hold in themselves the likeness of their principle or beginning; and that therefore in all things is found a trinity in unity of substance, after the likenese of the true Trinity and unity of substance, of the eternal beginning. In all things therefore which are principiated, there must needs be found the could-be-made, which descends from the infinite power of unity, or absolute entity; the could-make, which descends from the power of absolute equality, and the composition of both, which descends from the absolute bond. Whereupon our mind, the image of the eternal mind, in that eternal mind as the similitude in the truth, labours to find out its own measure: For our mind is to be considered as a high power in regard it is the similitude or the Divine mind: in which mind of ours to be able to be assimilated, to be able to assimilate and the knot of both, are in essence one and the same thing. Therefore cannot our mind, except it be one in Trinity, understand any thing, no more than the Divine mind. For first whilst it moves itself that it may understand, it premises something in the likeness of couldbe made or matter, whereunto it joins another in the likeness of could-make or form; and then in the likeness of that which is compounded of them, both, it understands. And whilst it comprehends after the manner of matter, it aches kinds; whilst after the manner of form, it makes differences; and whilst after the manner of the compound, it makes species or individuals.  
So also whilst it understands after the manner of a proper passion, it makes things proper; & whilst after the manner of something adventitious, makes accidents. And it understands nothing except it knit it together by some manner of matter premised, another manner of form coming upon it, and the manner of the compound. And in this succession, wherein I said some things are premissed after the manner of matter and form, thou seest our mind understandeth after the similitude of the eternal mind: for the eternal mind understands all things together, and after all manner of understanding, without succession. But succession is a descent from eternity, whose image and smilitude it is: therefore it understands in succession, whilst it united to the body which is subject to succession. For this is attentively to be noted, that all things, as they are in our mind, are together in matter, in form, and in the compound.  Thil. 
The things thou speakest, are very delightful; but that which thou saidst last, was so attentively to be noted, I pray thee expound more plainly.  Id. 
Very willingly. Look upon this nature which is an animal, or living wight: for sometimes the mind comprehends it as it is a Genus, or kind, and then it consider the nature of a living wight as it were confusedly, and unformedly after the manner of matter: sometimes it considers it as it is expressed by the name of humanity, and that is after the manner of forms; sometimes after, the manner of the thing compounded of that kind or Genus, and the differences that come unto it, and being so in the mind it is said to be in connexion. So then, that matter, and that form, or rather that similitude of matter and form, and that which is considered after the manner of the compound, is one and the same notion, and one and the same substance. As when I consider an animal, as matter; and humanity as form coming upon it, and the connexion of them both, I say that matter, that form, and that connexion is one substance. Or whilst I consider colour as the matter, whiteness as the form coming to it, and the connexion of both, I say that matter, that form, & that connexion of that matter and that form are one & the same accident. And in like manner in all things.  
Norl et it move thee, that when the mind makes ten most general kinds, the first beginnings, that then those most general have no common Genus or kind, which may, as matter be premised unto them; for the mind can consider a thing, after the manner of matter; and the same after the manner of the form coming to it; and the same after the manner of the compound: as whilst the mind considers the possibility of being substance or any other of the ten predicaments (for it may rationally be said, that manner is the possibility of being, either substance, or accident) and the mind considers the same as form coming upon it, as it is matter; and as it is compounded, whether it be substance, or any other of the ten. So that those three are one and the same most general. In that university therefore of things, which is in the mind, all things are in trinity, and in the unity of trinity, after the similitude, as they are in the eternal mind.  Phil. 
Have not then the ten most general, these manners of being, without the consideration of the mind?  Id. 
Those ten most generals, are not in themselves, but in the mind, and are understood after the manner of the matter, after the manner of the form, or after the manner of the compound; yet in their inferiors, they are considered to have these manners of beings. Neither if thou rightly mark, can they in themselves without the mind, be either after the manner of the matter, form or compound, which thou shalt especially find true when thou observest, how quality as it is in itself an accident, cannot be said to be but in its inferiors. So as special, or particular state, as it is in the mind, after the manner of matter; it may peradventure be said, that it cannot be considered, being the, (special, and individual state is the same, being sundry ways considered. We will therefore say, that peradventure it is not in itself, understood after the manner or matter, but in its superiors.  Phil. 
I am content, but I would have thee (show me, how those things which are in act, are after the manner of a trinity, according to that thou hast said.  Id. 
That will be easy for thee to see, if thou note that all things as they are actually, are in matter, form, and connexion. For this nature, humanity, as it is a possibilty of being man, is matter. as it is humanity; it is form; and as it is man compounded of them both, it is the connnexion: so that one, and the same thing, is both possibility of being man, the form, and the compounded of them both, and there is one nature of the thing. Likewise also this nature, which is expressed the name of whiteness, as it is a possibility of being whiteness, it is matter; the same otherwise taken, is form, and the same in the compound of them both; but so, as that that matter, that form, and that compound of both is by nature the same quality.  Phil. 
If to be in matter, be to be possibly, and to be possible, be not, how then are all things that are in act said to be in matter?  Id. 
Let not this trouble thee, which thou mayest conceive how it may be understood without repugnance; for I do not mean actual being, as repugnant to being in matter; but it is so to be understood, that all things as they are in act, that is here and in these things, are in matter; as for example, in wax is the possibility of being a Candle, in copper of being a basin.  Phil. 
Yet one word more, I beseech thee; why is the individual trinity called one?  Id. 
In God, from the unity uniting, which is the true substance; in other things, from the unity of nature, which is as it were, a certain image of the unity uniting, which properly is substance.  Phil. 
When it is said, that unity is one, and equality one, whence is that?  Id. 
From the unity of the substance.  Phil. 
And when our divines take unity for the Father, equality for the Son and the knot or bound for the holy Ghost as the Father is one, and the Son is one, whence is that?  Id. 
From the singularity of the person, for there are three singular persons in one divine substance; as I have heretofore shown.  Phil. 
To the end I may the better understand the things thou hast told me let me know I pray thee, whether thou thinkest our mind is, compounded of those manners of comprehending? for then our mind being a substance, those manners must needs be the substantial parts thereof: if this be thy meaning, say so?  Id. 
Plato would have the mind compounded of a divisible, and indivisible substance (as thou (saidst even now) and this he took from the manner of comprehending: for whilst it understands after the manner of form, than it comprehends individually; for a thing formerly. understood, is then individually comprehended. And therefore though we cannot well say humanity's, yet we say men, because the thing understood after the manner of the matter, or of the compound, is divisibly understood: for our mind is the power of comprehending, and the whole virtual, compounded of all the virtues of comprehending: and therefore every manner, being a substantial part thereof, is verified of the whole mind. But how the manners of comprehending, are substantial parts of that power which is called the mind, it is very hard to say or know.  Phil. 
Help me a little, good Idiot, in this so difficult matter.  Id. 
The mind doth virtually consist of the power of understanding, reasoning, imagining, and perceiving; so that the whole mind is called the power of understanding, the power of reasoning, the power of imagining, and the power of perceiving; wherefore of these it consists, as of its elements; and the mind after its manner, reacheth all things in all things. And because all things, as they are in act, are in the sense as it were in a Globe, and undistinctly; and the mind in a reason, discreetly or distinctly; hereupon it is the most express similitude between the manner of the being of all things, as they are in act, & as they are in the mind; for the power of perceiving in us, is the power of the mind, and therefore the mind itself, as every part of a line, is a line: For greatness considered of its self, without matter, is a fit example of what thou demandest; being that every part thereof is verified of the whole, and therefore is of the same entity with the whole.  Phil. 
Seeing the mind is but one, from whence hath it these powers of comprehending?  Id. 
It hath them from unity, for that it understands commonly after the manner of the matter, or of the compound, it hath it because it is unity uniting; that it understands singularly, it hath it likewise from unity, which is singularity: that it understands formerly, it hath it from unity, which is immutability; and that it understands divisibly, it hath it from unity; for division descends from unity.   

CHAP. XII. How the understanding in all men is not one: and how the number of separated minds is not numerable by us, but known to God.  Phil. 
THere are yet some things, wherein I would feign know what thou thinkest; some Peripatetics say that the understanding is one in all men; others, as certain Platonists, say that there is not one intellective soul, but that our souls are of the same substance with the soul of the world, which, as they say, comprehends all our souls: yet they say our, souls do differ numerically, because they have a divers manner of operartion; but that they are all after death, resolved into the soul of the world's Tellus what thou thinkest of it?  Id 
I affirm (as thou heardest) that the mind is the understanding; but how there should be one mind in all men I cannot conceive. For the mind having an office by which it is called die soul, doth therefore require a convenient habitude of the body adequately proportioned unto it; which as it is found in one body, is not to be found in another. As therefore the identity of proportion is unmultipliable; so is the identity of the mind, which without an adequate proportion of the body, cannot animate For as the sight of thine eye, could not be the sight of any other, though it were separated from thine eye, and joined to another's eye, because it could not find the same proportion in another's eye, that it had in thine; so neither the discretion which is in thy sight could be the discretion in the sight of another. So neither could the understand of that discretion, be the understanding of an others discretion. Therefore I conclude it not possible that there should be one understanding in all men.  
But because number seems to be taken away, when the variableness of the matter is taken away (as appears by that I have already said) and that the nature of a mind, out of the body is free and acquitted from all variety of matter, therefore it may be that the Platonists said that our souls are resolved into one soul, which is the common comprehender of all ours. But I do not think this resolution true: For although we cannot understand how number should be multiplied, when the variety of matter it taken away; yet for all this, that purality of things ceaseth not, which is the number of the Divine mind. Therefore the number of separated sustances, is no more, unto us a number, than it is, no number, because it is so numerable by us, that yet it is neither even nor odd; neither great nor small; nor doth it in any thing agree with a number numerable by us. As if any man should hear an exceeding great voice, made by a mighty army of men; and yet he should not know that it was an army that made it; it is manifest that in the voice which he hears, every man's voice is different and distinct; though he that heard it, could not give judgement of the number, and therefore judgeth it to be one voice, because he hath no means to reach the number. Or as if in one chamber many candles were burning, and the chamber enlightened by them all, yet the light of every candle remains distinct from the light of another, as we find by experience, when they are carried out of the room one after one, because the light is diminished when every one that is carried out, carrieth his light with it. Suppose therefore, that the burning candles in that chamber should be all put out and yet the light remain, and that one should come into that chamber so enlightened, he although he saw the lightsomeness of the chamber, yet cannot be possibly reach the distinction and discretion of the lights; nay he could not conceive, how there should be plurality of lights there, except he knew that there were the light of many candles put out; and if he did know this, namely that there were many, yet he could never numerically discern or distinguish one light from another. The like examples thou mayest bring in the other senses and help thyself how the impossibility of numerical difference, may, in regard of us, stand with the knowledge of plurality: but he that shall more diligently observe, how natures abstracted from all variety of matter, that is any ways intelligile by us: yet in regard of God, who is infinitely absolute, are not simply abstracted from all change, seeing they may be by him changed and lead into destruction, in as much as God alone doth according to his nature, dwell in imortality; be sees withal that no creature can possibly escape the number of the Divine mind.   

CHAP. XIII. How that which Plato called the soul of the worlds and Aristotle nature, is God which worketh all things in all things? and how he crealeth the mind in us.  Phil. 
ENough of this; what sayest thou of the soul of the world?  Id. 
The time will not suffer all things to be discursed; but I think Plato called, that, the soul of the world, which Aristotle called nature; and for my part, I suppose that neither that soul nor that nature, are any other thing than God, which worketh all things in all things, and whom we call the spirit of all things.  Phil. 
Plato said that that soul doth indelibly contain the samplars of things, and move all things. Aristotle said, that it was wise nature that moves all things.  Id. 
It may be Plato meant, that the soul of the world, is as the soul of a servant that knows the mind of his Lord, and executes his will; and this knowledge he called notions or samplars, which are never defaced by oblivion, that the execution of the Divine providence may not fail. And that which Plato calls the knowledge of the soul of the world, Arisiotle would have to be the sagacity of nature, which had understanding to fulfil the will of God. Therefore to that soul of nature, they attributed the necessity of complexion, because it is determinately necessitated so to do, as absolute necessity commandeth; but that is nothing but the manner of understanding, namely when our mind conceiveth God as the Architectonicall Art, whereunto there is another art of executing subordinate, that the divine conception may proceed into being: but in as much as all things do necessarily obey the will of the almighty, therefore the will of God needs no other executor, for in omnipotence willing and doing do coincide: As a glasse-maker, whilst he makes glass, blows in a breath which executes his will; in which breath is the word or conception, and the power; for unless the power and conception of the glasse-maker were in the breath which he sends forth, there would not arise, or be made, such a glass. Conceive therefore an absolute creative art, subsisting by itself, that the art may be the workman, and the mastery the master; this art hath in its essence necessarily, omnipotence, that nothing can resist it; wisdom, to know what it doth; and the connexion of omnipotence with wisdom, that what it willeth may be done. That connexion, having in itself wisdom and omnipotence is the spirit, as it were, will, or desire; for of things impossible, and utterly unkown, there is neither will nor desire. So in the most perfect will, there is wisdom and power, and by a certain similitude; it is called a spirit, because motion is not without, spirit; insomuch that whatsoever causeth motion in the mind, and all things else, we call a spirit. And by motion, all men do what they will do. Therefore the power of a creative art, which is an absolute and infinite art, or the blesshed God, doth all things in his spirit or will, in the which is the wisdom of the Son, and the omnipotence of the Father, that his work may be of one individed Trinity. Of this connexin, spirit, or will, the Platonists were ignorant, which did not see this spirit to be God, but thought it to be principiated by God, and to be the soul of the world, as our understanding soul animates our body. Nor did the Peripatetics see this spirit which thought this power to be nature hidden in all things, from which is motion and rest, when indeed it is God absolute blessed for evermore.  Orat. 
How it rejoiceth me to hear so plain an exposition; but I pray thee help us again with some example, to conceive the creation of our mind in this our body.  Id. 
Thou hast already heard of this matter; but because variety of examples, makes that which in itself is unexpressible, somewhat more clear, I will obey thee. Behold, thou knowest that our mind is a certain power having the image of that Divine art we spoke of. Therefore all things which are most truly in the Divine art, are truly in our mind, as the image thereof. Therefore our mind is created by that creating art, as if that art would create itself. And because that infinite art is un-multiplyable, it behooveth that there arise an image thereof even as if a painter would paint himself, and himself being not multiplyable by painting himself, there should rise his image.  
And because an image, how perfect soever (if it cannot become more and more perfect, and conformable to the sampler) is never so perfect, as any imperfect image, which hath power to conform itself more and more without limitation to the unapproachable sampler, for in this the image, after the best manner it may, doth imitate infinity. As if a painter should make two pictures of himself; whereof the one being dead, should seem actually more like him; but the other should be alive, and though for the present, less like, yet such a one, as being by its object stirred up to motion, could always make itself more and more conformable to the sampler; no man would doubt that this second picture were more perfect, and more expressing the art of the painter: So every mind, yea even ours, though created beneath all others, hath from God, that as well as it can, it is a perfect, and living image of the infinite art. Therefore it is three and one, having power, wisdom, and the connexion of both, after such a manner, that as a perfect image of the art, being stirred up, it can more and more conform its self to its sampler; So that our mind, though in the beginning of its creation, it have no actual resplendence of the creating art, in Trinity and unity: yet it hath that concreated power, that being stirred up, it can make itself more and more conformable to the actuality of the Divine art. And therefore in the unity of its essence, is power, wisdom, and will: And inits essence do coinside the master, and the mastery, as in a living image ot the infinite art, which being stirred up, can all ways without end, make itself more and more conformable to the Divine actuality, the inaccessible precision of the infinite art always remaining.  Orat. 
Most wonderfully and plainly; but I pray thee how it the mind infused by creation?  Id. 
Then haft heretofore heard me of this argument: Now take the same thing again by another example.  Ath. 
Then the Idiot taking a glass, and letting it hang down between his finger and thumb, he touched the glass and it gave a found, and after a little while, the glass was cracked and the sound ceaseth. Then said the  Id. 
In this fame hanging glass, by my power, there arose a certain power which moved the glass, whence came sound; and when that proportion of the glass in the which the sound was, and by consequence the motion resided was dissolved; the motion there ceased, and likewise upon the ceasing of the motion, the sound. But it that power had not depended upon the glass, and therefore would not have ceased upon the cracking of the glass, but have subsisted without the glass; thou shouldst have an example how that power is created in us, which makes motion and harmony, and then ceaseth to make it, when the proportion is dissolved, though for all that, it doth not cease to be. As if I, in giving thee a Lute, should in and with the Lute give thee the skill & cunning to play upon a Lute, if the art and skill did not depend upon the given Lute, though given in and with the Lute; then although the Lute were broken, yet the art and skill for all that would not be dissipated, though there were never a Lute found in the whole world that were fit for thee.   

CHAP. XIV. How the mind is said to come down from the milky way, through the planets to the body, and so to return: and how the notions of separated spirits are indelible, and ours delible.  Phil. 
THou bringest fit and fair examples, for things so strange, and remote from sense; and because the Sun is ready to set, and so we can stay no longer together; tell us I pray the what the Philosophers mean, in saying that the souls came down from the milky way, through the Planets into bodies, and so return to the milky way again? and why Aristotle willing to express the power of the soul, gins at Reason, saying, that the soul from Reason ascends to doctrine, from doctrine to intellectibility? but Plato, contrariwise, makes intellectibility the beginning, and saith, that by degenerating, intellectibility is made doctrine, or intelligence, and intelligence by degenerating becomes Reason.  Id. 
I know not their writings; But peradventure the first that spoke of the assent and descent of souls, meant the same that Plato and Aristotle did: For Plato looking to the image of the Creator, which is chief in intelectibility, where the mind conforms itself to the Divine simplicity; there placed the beginning, and made it the subfstance of the mind, which he will have remain after death, & that by the order of nature precedes the intelligence; but degenerates into intelligence, when it goes, back, from the divine simplicity, in which all things are one, and will behold all things in itself, as every thing hath a proper being distinct from another; afterwards the mind doth more degenerate, when by the motion of reafon, it comprehends things not in itself, but as the form is invariable matter, where it cannot hold the truth, but declines into an image. Now Aristototle, who considered all things, as they fall under names imposed by the motion of Reason, makes Reason the Elenment or beginning; and peradventure he saith, that Reason by discipline which is done by names, ascends unto intelligence, & afterwards higher unto intelletibility: And therefore he makes reason the Element to the ascent of the intellest: as Plato made intellectibility to the ascent thereof. And so there seem to be no difference between them, save in the manner of considering.  Phil. 
Be this so: But tell me why all the Philosophers say, that every understanding is of substance and accident; how is this true of God, and the first matter?  Id. 
The understending concerning God, is an inflexion from the understanding of this name, Ens, or being: because the being of not being, that is being imparticipably understood is God: And this understanding is the same, with that which is of substance and accident, but another way, that is inflexly considered. Wherefore the understanding conserning God, comprehends all understandings of substance and accidents, but is simple and one; but the understanding which had ot the first matter, is a certain bending from that which is had of a body, for if thou understand abody un-bodily, that is, without all corporeal forms, thou understandest the same thing which signifies a body, but after another man, because un-bodily which is without doubt, the understanding of the matter.  Phil. 
Dost think that the celestial mind's created according to their intellectual dgrees have also indelible notions?  Id. 
I think some Angels intellectible, as those of the highest orders; some intelligentiall as of the second, some rational as of the third; and that in every order there are likewise so many degrees, that there are in the whole nine degrees, or quires; and that our minds are so beneath the lowest degrees of such spirits; and above every degrees of corporal nature, that they are, as it were, the connexion of the university of things; the term of perfection of the lower nature, and the beginning of the higher. For I think that the minds of the blessed spirits that are without bodies, do in rest possess invariable notions; and such as are not by any oblivion to be defaced, because of the presence of the truth, which incessantly offers itself by way of object. And this is the happiness of those spirits, that have attained the fruition of the Sampler of things. But our minds, because of their informity, do often forget the things they knew, though there remain the concreated aptitude to know them again. For although they cannot without a body, be stirred up to an intellectual progress; yet because of their carelessness, aversions from the object, and distractions to divers and sundry things, and because of the bodily troubles, they lose their notions. For the notions that we get here, in this variable and unstable world, according to the conditions thereof, are not confirmed. For they are as the notions of Scholars and learners, that begin to profit, but are not yet brought to the Mastery: But the notions here acquired, when the mind proceedeth from the variable world to the unyariable, are likewise translated to the invariable mastery: For when particular notions pass into the perfect mastery, they cease to be variable in the universal mastery, which before were particularly fluid and unfrable. So we are in this world docible, or to betaught in the other, we are Masters.   

CHAP. XV. How our mind is immortally, and imorruptible.  Phil. 
IT now remains that thou speak what thou thinkest of the immortality of our mind, that being instructed concerning it, as much as may be in one day; I may rejoice that I have profited in so many things.  Id. 
They that make the intellectabilitie, the element or beginning of the descent of the understanding, do not think that the mind depends of the body. And they that make reason the beginning of the ascent of the understanding, and intellectability the end, do not admit that the mind dies with the body. But I cannot imagine that they who have any taste of wisdom, would ever deny the immortality of the mind; as I have already, as things came then into my mind, made it plain to the Orator. So he which considers, that the beholding of the mind reacheth to that which is invariable, and that by the mind, forms are abstracted from variability, and are translated, into the invariable region of the necessity of complexion, he cannot doubt, but the nature of the mind is free from all variability. For it attracts to itself, what it abstracts from variability; for the invariable touch of Geometrical figures, is found not in pavements, but in the mind. And as long as the soul inquires and seeks through Organs, that which it finds is variable: but that which it finds, when it seeks by itself, is stable, clear, bright, and fixed; and consequently not of the nature of things variable, which it reacheth by sense, but of things invariable, which it findeth by itself.  
Moreover the demonstration of the immortality of the mind, may be hunted out by number; for being a living number, that is a number numbering, and every number incorruptible in itself, although considered in variable matter, it seem variable; the number of our mind cannot be conceived corruptible; how then can the Author of an incorruptible numb seem corruptible? Nor can any number evacuate the power of the minds numbering. Therefore, whereas the motion of Heaven is numbered by the mind, and time is the measure of motion; time itself shall never evacuate the power of the mind, but that it shall abide as the term, measure, and determination of all things measureable. The instruments of the heavenly motions, proceeding from the mind of man, do plainly show, that motion doth not so much measure the mind, as the mind measures motion; so that the mind by its intellective motions, seems to complicate all successive motion, the mind puts forth of itself the discursive motion, & so it is the form of moving; seeing then whatsoever is dissolved, is dissolved by motion, how should then the form of moving be dissolved by motion? The mind being the intelluali life, moving itself, that is, putting forth its life, that is, its understanding; how can it choose but live always? A motion moving itself, how can it ever fail? for it hath life intimately conjoined, by which it is always living; even as asphear which is always round, by a circle compact unto it.  
If the composition of the mind be the same, with a number compounded of itself; how is it possible to be resolved into that which is no mind? So if the mind be the coincidence of unity, and alterity, as number, how is it divisible,? seeing that in it divisibility coinsides with indivisible unity, if the mind do complicate the same and divers, as understanding, divisibly and unitively, how shall it be destroyed? If number be the manner of the minds understanding, and in its numbering explication, coincide with complication; how shall it fail? for that power hat in explicating complicates, as it is manifest the mind doth, cannot be made less; for he that numbers explicates the power of unity, and complicates number into unity, for a denary is a unity complicated of ten; so he who numbereth, doth both explicate and complicate.  
The mind is the image of eternity, but time the explication. And the explication is always less than the image of the complication of eternity. Now he who notes the jndgement of the mind concreated with it, by which it judgeth of all reasons, and that reasons are from the mind, sees that no reason can reach to the measure of the mind, Our mind therefore remains unmeasurable, infinible, and in terminable by any reason, which only the uncreated mind measureth, terminateth and boundeth, as the truth doth its living image, which is of it, in its and by it. How should the image perish, which is the respendence of incorruptible truth, unless the truth should abolish and put out its shining brightness, and resplendence. As therefore it is impossible, that infinite truth should withdraw it's communicated resplendence, because it is infinite goodness; so it is impossible that the image thereof, which is nothing but the conmunicatd resplendence of it, should ever fail; as it is impossible that when the Sun by his shining hath made day, it should ever cease to be day, till the Sun leave shining. The Christian religinon likewise which hath this year brought this innumerable people to Rome, and thee, Philosopher into a vehement admiration of them, which hath always appeared in the world, though in diversity of manners, proves that the immortality of our mind, is naturally implanted in us, as the humanity of our nature; for we have no more certain knowledge that we are men, then that we have immortal mind, when the knowledge of both, is the common assertion of men. And these things thus spoken by an Idiot, I pray thee take in good part; and if they be not such, as thou upon the Orators undertaking, didst think to have heard, yet some thing there may be, which peradventure may bring thee some help to higher things.  Ora. 
I have been during all this holy and sweet talk, much admiring thy mind, that hath so profoundly disputed of the mind: And now I find by a most assured trial, that the mind is the power that measureth all things, I thank thee, Idiot, both on mine own behalf, and on the behalf of this stranger, the Philofopher, whom I brought, who I hope, will go away much comforted.  Phil. 
I do not think, that ever I lived an happier day than this, I know not what will follow; I thank thee, Crator, and thee, Idiot, whom I know to be a very speculative man, praying that cur minds being stirred up with a wonderful desire, by these day's conference may be haply brought to the fruition of the eternal mind.   
The end of the third Book of the Idiot.   

The fourth Book concerning statick Experiments; OR, Experiments of the Balance.  
Wherein the Speakers are 

The Author.  
The Idiot.  
The Orator.    Autbour. 
THat Roman Orator did much frequent the company of the Idiot, that he might sometimes hear the conception of the man, which were always welcome unto him. Upon a time as the Orator commended the Balance, the rule of justice, and an instrument right necessary for the Commonwealth, he was thus answered by the  Id. 
Although nothing in this world can reach precision, yet we find by experience, the judgement of the Balance, one of the truest things amongst us; and therefore it is every where in request: but till me I pray thee, seeing it is not possible that in the same bigness, there should be the same weight, if the things be of a divers Original: whether hath any man yet written of the axact, and experimentally tried differences of weights.  Ora. 
Not that I have either read or heard.  Id. 
I wish that some body would give the world such a consignation, I should esteem it above many volumes of other Books.  Orat. 
I think no man could do it better than thyself, if thou wouldst undertake it.  Id. 
It were an easy manner for any man to do, for my part, I have no leisure.  Orat. 
Tell me the profit of it, and the means how to do it, and I will see what I myself, or some other, at my entreaty can do at it.  Id. 
By the difference of weighty, I think we may more truly come to the secret of things, and that many things may be known by a more probable conjecture.  Ora. 
Thou sayest true; for so I remember a certain prophet saith, Pro. 16.11. The weight and the Balance are the judgements of that Lord, who hath created Wisd. 11.17. all things in number weight and measure, who Prov. 8.28. weighed the fountains of waters and the greatness of the Earth, in a Balance, as the wise man saith.  Id. 
If therefore a like measure of the water of one fountain, be not of the same weight, with the like measure of the water of another; certainly the judgement of the Balance, will in this case better show the diversity of the nature of the one and the othery, than any other instrument.  Orat. 
'tis true, And Vitruvius' writing of Architecture, bids us choose such a place to dwell in, as bathe light and airy waters, and avoid them places, whose waters are heavy and earthy.  Id. 
As then the water of the same fountains seem to be of the same weight and nature, so the waters of divers fountains, seem to be of divers weights and natures.  Orat. 
Seem, sayest thou? As though they were not so indeed.  Id. 
I confess that the time may alter them; though sometimes nor possibly to be perceived; for without question, the water hath one weight at one season, and another at another. As likewise there is one weight of the water, near the fountain or head, & another farther off. But these differences being scarce persceptible, are accounted as nothing.  Orat. 
Dost thou think it is in all other things, as thou sayest it is in weter?  Id. 
Yes truly, for the same greatness of whatsoever things are divers, never hath the same weight. Therefore there being one weight of blood, and another of the Urine; and of both these, one in a sound man, and another in a sick man; one in an old man, another in a young man; one in a Germane, another in an African, were it not very convenient for a Physician, to have-all these differences noted?  Orat. 
Nay more than that, for by these weights consigned, me might makg himself admirable.  Id. 
For I conceive a Physician might give a truer judgement of the Urinal, by the weight and colour both together, then by the deceitful colour alone.  Orat. 
Most certain.  Id. 
So also the roots of Herbs, Stocks, Leaves, Fruits, Seeds, and Juices, having their proper weights if now the weights of all Herbs were consigned, with the diversity of places; the Physician might better reach the nature of them all by the weight and smell, then by the deceitful taste.  Orat. 
It is very true.  Id. 
Then by comparing the weights of the Herbs, to the weight of the blood or Urinal; he might know by the concordance, and difference of the medicines, what dose to prescribe, and many strange prognostics might he make, and by statick experiments, come by a more precise conjecture to whatsoever may be known.  Orat. 
It it much to be admired, that among so many painful searchers, all men have been so negeligent in the signiture of writes.  Id. 
Dost thou not think, that if one had an hour glass made with water, and out of a strait and narrow hole thereof, shouldest suffer so much water to run into a Basin, as would run, whilst the pulse of a sound young man would stick an hundred; and then should do the like, whilst a sick man's pulse struck a hundred, that there would be a great deal of difference between the weights of those waters?  Orat. 
Who doubts it.  Id. 
By the weight of the water, therefore a man might come to the diversity of the pulse, in a young man, and an old man, in a sick man, and a sound man; and so by consequent, to the truer knowledge of the disease, seeing there must of necessity be one weight in one disease, and another in another. And therefore there might a more perfect judgement be given by such an experimental difference of the pulses, and weight of Urinal, then by the touch of the one, and the colour of the other only.  Orat. 
Thou sayest right.  Id. 
If one should further take particular knowledge of the fetching of the breath, by the said habitude of waters, might he not give a more precise judgement?  Orat. 
I confess he might.  Id. 
For if, while the water runs out of the hourglass, one should tell a hundred breathe in a child, an a hundred in an old man, it is not possible the waters should be of the fame weight. The same I say of other divers ages and complexions. If then a Physician were certainly informed of the weight of the breaching of a sound man, or a child, or a young man, or the like that were sick of divers infirmities; without doubt he might more certainly come to the knowledge of health, and the declining from health, and so to the administration of remedies, by such an experiment.  Ora 
Yea, even to the conjectures of the period.  Id. 
Thou sayest well; for if he should find a young man the weight of an aged and decrepit man, he might the more certainly guess at his death: And many more such admirable conjecstures might he make. Moreover, if in fevers he would, by the like means, note hot and cold paroxysmes by the difference of the weights of water, might he not the more truly reach to the efficacy of the disease, and the opportunity of the remedy?  Orat. 
Certainly be might; for be should find the victory of one quality over another, of heat over cold, or on the contrary: and according to the habitude he found, he might apply the remedies.  Id. 
I say further, that in divers Nations, and Regions, and Times, these things would be found divers, though in the selfsame age. Therefore though it were difficult, yet it were exceeding profitable, that the differences of weights were designed according to all these circumstances.  Orat. 
It is so as thou sayest.  Id. 
Nay, It seemeth unto me that the weight of all things is to be considered, as the middle of the diversity of weights, of things in the middle climate, I mean, in divers climates. As if we would consider the weight of a man, in comparison to some other living wight; then we must take a man, not in the latitude as he is a Northern mane, or a Southern, where there may be excess on both sides, but rather as inhabiting the middle climate.  Orat. 
Thou sayest very well. The Ancients have called that climate, Dia Rhodon, because it extendeth itself from the East to the West by the Island Rhodes. But I pray thee, if thou shouldest seek the weight of a man, in comparison to some other living creature, what way wouldst thou go?  Id. 
I would put the man into one scale, and the like weight of some other thing into the contrary scale, to take the certain weight of the man withal; Then would I put the man into water, and take the weight of him again when he came out again: and mark the difference of those two weights; the like would I do with the other living creature; and by the diversity of the weights, I would note the thing I sought. Then would I look to the diversity of the. weight of the man and the other weight, out of the water, and according to this I would moderate the weight found, and write it.  Orat. 
I do not understand this moderation.  Id. 
I will show thee.  Auth. 
Then the Idiot took a light piece of wood, whose weight was as three; and in respect whereof water of the same bulk or bigness would weigh as five; he divided the wood into two unequal parts, whereof the one was as one third part, and the other as two thirds, he put them both into a deep flagon, and holding them down with a stick, he poured water upon them, then pulling away the stick the two pieces of wood risen to the top of the water, and the greater piece sooner than the less: Then he said,  Id. 
Thou seest now that the diversity of motion, in the Identity of proportion, proceeds from hence, that in light wood, I the greater the wood be, the more lightness there is in it.  Orat. 
I see it, and it pleaseth me well.  Id. 
That is my meaning, that so moderation should be made; for if a man should have more weight and be more heavy than the other living creature, only for his bigness, than he must needs sink faster into the water then the other. Wherefore then it behooveth that by diminishing the moderation of the known difference, it must be done proportionably according to the excess.  Orat. 
I understand now. But tell me, how doth the water resist the sinking of the wood?  Id. 
As a greater heaviness resisteth the less: for if thou press a round piece of wood into wax, & then pull it out again, and fill the place with water; and then take the weight of the water, and of the wood; thou shalt find that if the weight of the would exceed the weight of the water, of the wood will sink; if not, it will swim; and a proportionable part of the wood will, be above the water, according as the weight of the water exceeds the weight of the wood.  Orat. 
Why dost thou speak, of a round piece of wood?  Id. 
Because if it be a broad piece, it will swim more lostily, in that it occupyeth more of the water: and therefore ships in shallow waters, had need be of more broad bottoms.  Otat. 
Continue the purpose begun; whether the weights of animals may be otherwise reached?  Id. 
I think they may: For if one should fill a great, vessel full of water to the top, and then put that into another greater; and then, take the weight of a man, as he is out of the water; and afterwards make the man go into the vessel full of water, and take and weight the water that runs over; and proceed in like manner with another man, or beast, or any other thing; and by the diversity of weights, thou mayest by a subtle inquiry, find that thou seekest for.  Orat. 
Thou proceedest with a great deal of subtilety; and I have heard that by the same invention, the difference of metals have been found, and that some have noted, how much the fusion of an ounce of wax gathers of gold, silver, copper, and so of all metals.  Id. 
Certainly he was much to be commended that by the fusion of wax understood the greatness, for he saw that if an ounce of gold filled the place of an ounce of wax, that then the weight of it, must needs be just as much, as the weight of an ounce of wax, and so of other metals; for it is most, certain that there is one weight of gold, and another of silver, and another of other things, in the same bulk of bigness, and that every thing hath one weight in the air, and another in water, another in oil or some other liquor. And if any man had all these weights ready noted and set down, he might readily know, how one mettle is heavier than another in the air, and how much in the water. So that any mass of mettle given, might by the diversity of the weight thereof in the air, and in the water, be known of what mettle, and what mixture the mass is. And as I have said of air and water, so also may be said of oil, or any ather liquor wherein the experiment may be made.  Orat. 
So indeed, without the melting of the mass, or separation of the metals, one might know the mixture: and the device were good in moneys, to know how much copper there is in gold and silver.  Id. 
Thou sayest true, and it were good to know the sophistical work of Alchemy how much they come short of truth.  Orat. 
If any man than would purpose to write a book of weights, he must as it seems, note the variety of every mettle; for Hungarian gold is of one weight, and fine gold, which they call aurum obryzum of another; and so of all the metals.  Id. 
By what hath been spoken it appears, that as in fountains, so in minerals there is found diversities of weight: yet gold wheresoever it be found is always heavier than any other metal: although the species thereof be found to be varied within a certain latitude: and so of the rest.  Orat. 
But whether might not the habitude or proportion of the value of metals be found out, by the habitude or proportion of their weights?  Id. 
Lead is likest unto gold in weight, but not in perfection; and therefore we must not take heed to one weight only, but to every kind of weight; for if one look to the weight of the fire of fusion as well of gold as of lead; he shall find that lead comes not so near gold, as any other metals doth. And if one look to the weight of the fire, in the melting of iron, he shall find that iron comes nearer unto gold, than any other mettle doth; although if he look to the weight of heaviness he shall find it comes not so nigh: Therefore we must look upon all the weights, and not upon the weight of heaviness only, and so we shall find that silver is next unto Gold.  Orat. 
Vitruvius saith, speaking of the natural heaviness of Gold, that it alone is drowned in quickesilver, though it be of never so small a weight, when other metals swim aloft, though they of never so great a bulk.  Id. 
Quicksilver it naturally conjungible to all the metals, because of something, which it hath in common with them all; but it doth more amorously cleave and adhere to Gold, as that which is not perfect to its own most perfect nature. And for this cause, they that spend their time in Alchemy, strive to tame quicksilver in the fire, until it do not only, not fly from the fire itself, but until it likewise hold fast and fixed with himself, all other metals whereunto it is joined. And not thus fare alone, but until it also strain and compact them all into the weight of Gold, and colour them with a fixed and permanent colour, their own fluxible, and malleable moisture abiding still.  Orat. 
But dost thou think, that they can by this means bring their purposes to pass?  Id. 
Precision is always inattingible, but how much they profit, the Balance must show, without which they can do nothing certain. For by the judgement of the fire, and the Balance, the truth of this question must be resolved.  Orat. 
Might not all precious stones be weighed in like manner.  Id. 
No doubt of it, they might all be one by the same device, for a Diamond hath no weight; in respect of the same bigness of lead, and a Saphire another. And by the diversity, may the habitude or proportion of lead to either's weight be known, and so of all stones. And therefore it were very good to have these weights written down, by the way of a statick experiment, which the differences of their Orginalls, that if there were any sophistication done with Berill, or coloured Crystal, they might be known and found.  Orat 
Yea and further, there being one weight of a stone, in the air, another in water, another in oil, it were good these diversities were had, that without any habitude to lead, or any third thing, the difference of the weights might he known.  Id. 
Thou sayest very well.  Orat. 
Tell me, if thou baste any device, whereby the virtues of stones may be weighed.  Id. 
I think the virtue of the Loadstone might be weighed, if putting some Iron in one scale, and a Loadstone in the other, until the balance were even, then taking away the Loadstone, and some other thing of the same weight being put into the scale, the Loadstone were holden over the Iron, so that that scale would begin to rise; by reason of the Loadstones attraction of the Iron, then take out some of the weight of the other scale, until the scale wherein the Iron is, do sink again to the aequilibrium, or equality still holding the Loadstone unmovable as it was; I believe that by weight of what was taken out of the contrary scale, one might come proportionably to the weight of the virtue or power of the Loadstone. And in like manner, the virtue of a Diamond, might be found hereby, because they say it hinders the Loadstone form drawing of Iron; and so other virtues of other stones, consideration, being always had of the greatness of the bodies, because in a greater body, there is a greater power and virtue.  Orat. 
Might not a workman try also by this means, how much Mercury, and how much Sulphur every mettle contains? and so of stones likewise.  Id. 
Certainly he might somewhat near find out such things, by the concord and difference of weights: as also the elements of quicksilver, by the diversity of its weight in the air, in water, and in oil, compared to oil, water, & ashes of the same greatness weighed against it; and so of sulphur also. So that a man might by this means come to a true conjecture of the Elements of all metals and stone, and the weight of those Elements.  Orat. 
These be fine things, but might not the same be done in Herbs, and all the kinds of woods, flesh, living creatures, and humours.  Id. 
In all I think. For weighing a piece of Wood, and then burning it throughly, and then weighing the ashes, it is known how much water there was in the wood, for there is nothing that hath a heavy weight but water and earth. It is known moreover by the divers weight of wood in air, water and oil, how much the water that is in wood, is heavier or lighter than clean spring water, and so how much air there is in it. So by the diversity of the weight of ashes, how much fire there is in them: and of the elements may be gotten by a nearer conjecture, though precision be always inattingible. And as I have said, of Wood, so may be done with Herbs, flesh and other things.  Orat. 
There is a saying, that no pure element is to be given, how is this proved by the Balance?  Id. 
If a man should put an hundred weight of earth into a great earthen pot, and then should take some Herbs, and Seeds, & weigh them, and then plant or sow them in that pot, and then should let them grow there so long, until he had successively by little and little, gotten an hundred weight of them, he would find the earth but very little diminished, when he came to weigh it again: by which he might gather, that all the aforesaid herbs, had their weight from the water. Therefore the waters being engrossed (or impregnated) in the earth, attracted a terrestreity, and by the operation of the Sun, upon the Herb were condensed (or were condensed into an Herb.) If those Herbs be then burnt to ashes, mayest not thou guess by the diversity of the weights of all; How much earth thou founderst more than the hundred weight, and then conclude that the water brought all that? For the Elements are convertible one into another by parts, as we find by a glass put into the snow, where we shall see the air condensed into water, and flowing in the glass. So we find by experience, that some water is turned into stones, as some is into Ice; and that there is in some fountains a hardening and petrifying virtue, which turns the things that are put into them, into stone. For so say they, there is a certain water found in Hungary, which through the power of the vitriall which is in it, turneth Iron into Copper; for by such powers and virtues, it is manifest that the waters are not purely elementary, but elementated. And it were very pleasant to have the weights of all those waters, of such divers virtues, that by the diversity of their weights in air & oil, one might come the nearer to the conjectures of their virtues.  Orat. 
Might one not do so with the earth?  Id. 
Yes, even with the earth; because one earth is fruitful, and another barren; and in one earth are found stones and minerals, and not in another: therefore to the searching of the secrets of na-nature, it were exceeding advantageous to know the divers weights of divers earth's, in water, air, and oil: So by the diversity of the weights of wines, waxes, oils, gums, alums, onions, leeks, garlic, and all such things; I think the virtues that are diversely in them, might be in some measure found out; and we might give a near conjecture of the weight of the whole earth: for the circumference of it, and the Diameter are both known; from whence may be had the capacity and the contents, and the number of miles, therefore numbering but one solid inch of earth, from thence may easily be deduced the weight of the whole capacity.  Orat. 
These things would scarce be written in a huge volume.  Id. 
Experimental knowledge requireth large writings, for the more they are, so much the more easily may we come from the experiments, to the Art which is drawn from them.  Orat. 
Peradventure a man might in time rise by subtle conjectures, to the weight of the Air.  Id. 
If any man would in the one part of a great pair of Balance, put a great deal of wool, dry, and hard packed up, and in the other stones to a just counter poise in a place and air that were temperate; he should find by experience, that when the air declines to moisture, the weight of the wool would increase; and when it inclines to dryness, it would decrease; and by these differences he might weigh the air, and might give likely conjectures of the change of the times and weather. So if any man should desire to konws the divers strength of the Sun in divers climates, if he would take & weigh a thousand grains, either or wheat or barley from the most fertile field of the one and the other, by the diversity of the weights, he might try the divers power of the sun, for if the number and the field be alike fruitful in any place, the difference cannot be but in the sun. So mayest thou also hunt out the different vigour of the sun in mountains and valleys, so it be in the same line of rising and setting.  Orat. 
Whether might not a man, by letting a stone fall from a high tower, and letting water run out of a naorow hole, into a Basin in the mean time; and then weighing the water that is run out, and doing the same with a piece of wood of equal bigness, by the diversity of the weights of the water, wood, and stone, attain to know the weight of the air?  Id. 
If a man should do this, in divers towers of an equal height, and at divers times, he might come near a likely conjecture. But yet he might sooner reach the weight of the air, by the diversity of figures or shapes, in things of equal heaviness. As if I would let one pound of lead fall from a high tower, that were round, and take the water that ran from an hourglass in the mean time; & then would do the same again with the like weight of lead, that were broad, letting the water run in like manner: I might by the divers weights of the waters, reach to the weight of the air: For we find by experience, that birds do abide more still when they spread their wings, because they take up more air; as also that which is heavy, doth sooner sink in the water, if it be round, then if it be square. And peradventure the air may yet be more easily weighed: as if equal bellows. were equally filled, in divers times and places, for by the motion of those equal bellows, water being dropped through an hourglass, by an equal height, during the time of the motion, and that weighed, by the proportion of water to water, of the divers times and places, it might be easily known. For look in what proportion the more ponderous water did exceed, in the same proportion did the lightness of the air of that bellows, exceed the lightness of the other bellows, whose water weighed less.  
But the best way of all, is to take an empty glass full of air, suppose the glass weigh just a pound, if then stopping the hole with wax, thou put it down into the water, and that one pound weight precisely, will hold it down under water, being laid upon it, than thou mayst precisely say, that the air in the glass is of the lightness of two pounds. So mayst thou know very near, the proportion of the lightnsse of on air to another, in divers places, times and regions.  
By the like device also, by rneanes of a bellows, mayst thou weigh smoke or wind: for if thou take a bellows full of air, and then shut them in the smoke, pressing out the air, and after pull them open, the smoke will fill the bellows, which thou mayest weigh as air, and so make trial whether smoke or air be lighter, and by how much: and so mayest thou do with wind. Thou mightest also by the motion of the smoke, whilst so many drops of water distil in the hourglass, and the motion of fire, during the distillig of so many drops, guests at the lightness of fire, above smoke, or air. No, whatsoever we have said of water-hour-glasses, may perhaps be better tried by Sand-hour-glasses, made of glass, or some fine earth, with one hole in the top, and another narrow one in the bottom of the vessel, that may be stopped with wax, or with one's finger, until the very instant, that the trial of weights were to be made: then opening the narrow hole in the bottom, and taking the sand that runs into the basin, during the time of the motion of the light or heavy things; if the sand be weighed as I said of the water, by the weight of one sand to another, the weight of things might be known by a very near guess. And as by the foresaid devices by diversity of figures, the weight of the air might be conjectured; so of the water likewise, and on the other side, the various capacity of figures or shapes.  Orat. 
I have heard that some by means of a certain instrument, have gone about to find out the depth of the Sea.  Id. 
It might be done with a piece of Lead, made after the fashion of the moon of eight days old, yet so, that one horn of it be heavier, & the other lighter, and on the lightest horn let an apple, or some other light thing be made fast, with such an instrument, that the lead pulling down the apple after it to the bottom, and first touching the ground with the heaviest part thereof, and so laying it selfe along accordingly, the apple then loosed and freed from the horn, may return up again to the top of the water, provided that thou have first the knowledge how long such a lead will be sinking, and the apple rising in a water of a known depth; for then by the diversity of the weights of the water, or sand of the hour glass, from the time of the throwing in of the lead, and the apples return in divers waters, thou mayst find what thou seekest.  Orat. 
I believe that the deepness of the waters may be searched both by this, and other means. But tell me, may it not also be guessed at, by this means what way a ship makes in the sea?  Id. 
As as how?  Orat. 
By throwing an apple, as far as one can, out of the prow, or forepart of the ship, and then letting the water run frm the hourglass, till the ship come to the apple, and comparing the weight of the water at one time with the weight of it at another time.  Id. 
Both by that, and otherwise, as the shooting an arrow from a crossbow, and the ships coming to the arrow with the weight of the water in the mean time.  Orat. 
The knowledge of the strength of bows and other engines, may as it seems, be proportionably enquired, by the flowing of the water out of the hourglass, from that point of time, wherein the shaft is shot diametrally upwards, and returns unto the earth again, provided that in divers engines, the shafts be always equal.  Id. 
Not only the strength of bows, and engines, but of winds also, the flying of fowls, the running of men, and beasts, and whatsoever is of the like kind, may conjecturally be sought out by these statick experiments, and the running of water from an hourglass.  Orat. 
How may the strength of a man be known by this means?  Id. 
Make a pair of scales even, then let a man lay hold of one of them, and in the other put as much weight as he can by the utmost of his strength pluck up from the ground till the balance be even: (which will be found more true (say I) if he have a rest to stay one or both his feet against) then take the weight of that which he hath pulled up, and deducting the weight of the man himself, all the remainder of the weight is portioned to his strength.  Orat. 
Might not the breath of a man be so weighed?  Id. 
There is one weight of the same man, when he draws in or holds his breath, another when he breathes it out; one weight of a man, whilst he lives, another when he is dead; And so in all living things. And therefore it were good to have these differences noted, in divers living things, and divers men, and divers ages of men, that so by conjecture, a man might ascend to the weight of the vital spirits.  Orat. 
Might we not by the same way, hunt after the heat and cold, the dryness and moistures of the weather?  Id. 
That we might assuredly; for if in frosty weather, thou mark the weight of the water before it be frozen and after, thou shalt find it differ: For seeing ice swim above the water, thou must needs know it is lighter than water; and therefore according to the intenseness of the cold, there is a greater difference of the weight; Or if thou weigh green wood, and after a time, find the weight of it altered, thou shalt know hereby the exceise of heat and cold, moisture and drought.  Orat. 
May not the time of the day be so weighed?  Id. 
If thou let the water run out of the houre-glass from the Sun rising one day, till the Sun rising on the morrow; and then shalt let it run another day, beginning at the Sun rising, by the proportion of the water, that ran last, to the weight of that which ran the first day, thou mayst know the hour & time of the day.  Orat. 
It may be one may so know the time of the year?  Id. 
Yes, if for a year together, thou every day, let the water run through an hourglass, from the sunrising to the sunset; and observe the weight, thou mayst by the balance at any time give a near guess, both at the day of the month, and hour of the day, though in those days which are shortest, the difference be less certain than in others.  Orat. 
I see that by this invention one may reach even the motion of the heavenly bodies, as Nimrod is said to have done, and Hipparchus to have written.  Id. 
Thou sayest true, though in this case there be great need of a diligent discourse, for if any man noting a fixed star in the Meridional line, would gather and note the water, running from the hourglass, until the return of the same star to the same place, and would do the like with the sun from his rising, to his rising again the next day, he might find the motion of the sun to the east, by the diversity of the lesser-nesse of the waters weight, of the stars motion from the meridional line, to its return to the same place, respectively to the motion of the Sun, from his rising to his rising, for by how much less it were by so much, less in comparison to the weight of the whole, were the motion in order to the equinoctial circle, not to the Zodiac, which is not described upon the poles of the world, but it's own. So if any man would by the same star try, how much the Sun were moved in fifteen days, he might do it in the same manner, by the divers distance of the Suns rising respectively to the place of that star in the Meridian line, As for example, if to day the distance of the place of that star, in the line from the Suns rising, be found in some proportion by the hourglass, to the weight of the water of the whole revolution of the star; and in fifteen days after, it be found in another proportion, by the diversity of these porportions the motion might be proved, so it be always in the equinoctial.  Orat. 
May the motion in the Zodiac be thus found?  Id. 
It may certainly, by the the motion of the Sun, from noon to noon, and from the East to the East; and from the East to the West: for by these differences, the declination of the Zodiac, from the equinoctial might be reached.  Orat. 
And what may be done concerning the variety of the motions, which is said to be caused by the Eccen trick?  Id. 
That also may be found out, when in a year thou shalt find the enequality in the Zodiac, in equal days; for the Sun moved in the summer time from the equinoctial, returns not unto the equinoctial again, in the same number of days that it doth in winter, as it doth in winter, when it returns sooner; for it would not be found to have spent just so many days, in going from Libra to Aries, as from Airs to Libra. By which difference would appear the eccentrick, or little circle of the spicycle, by the difference of the motion.  Orat. 
And what of the greatness of the Sun's body?  Id. 
By the weight of the water, that runs in the houre-glass, in the equinoctial, from the beginng of the rising of the Sun, until he be quite above the Horizon, in the habitude unto the water of the stars revolution, is known the nearest habitude of the greatness of the Sun's body unto his sphere. Yet there is another way to find out the greatness of of the Sun's body, in the Eclipses thereof.  Orat. 
As how?  Id. 
we will find out the motion of the Moon, as we have done that of the Sun. Then by the eclipse, and motion thereof through the shadow of the earth, we seek the greatness of the Moon in order, or proportion to the divers shadow of the earth: by which we conjecture the middle porportion, to be that of the Moon's greatness unto the earth. Then by the motion of the Moon, and the eclipse of the sun: we hunt after the sun's distance from the earth, and his greatness: and though it be a subtle enquiry, yet is it but conjectural.  Orat. 
By what thou hast already said, it should seem that all diversities of motions, and eclipses of the Sun and Moon, yea the progresses of all the Planets, their stations, retrograditions, directions, and eccentricities may be known by one and the same divise, of the balance and hourglass.  Id. 
Thou mayst do it thyself, if thou labour subtlety to collect the differences.  Ora. 
What thinkest thou of the judgements of the stars.  Id. 
I think that by the variety of the weights of the water, in several years, and certain other differences in the weights of woods, herbs and grain, one may guess at the future plenty or scarcity of Corn, better and sooner by experiments past, then by the motion of the stars. For if in March, there be such a proportion of weight found in water, air and woods, then will follow fruitfulness of the earth; if otherwise, barrenness, or at the best mediocrity. The like of wars, pestilence, and all other ordinary things. And this is the root, whereby in these second causes we hunt after the judgement of the stars. As by the increase, or decrease of marrow in living Creatures, Fish, and Seacrabes, in Trees and Rushes, we seek to know the age of the Moon; and by the ebbing and flowing of the Sea, her place in the heavens,  Orat. 
I have heard that the Egyptians used to foresee the disposition of the year, by the plentiful or scarce overflowing of Nilus.  Id. 
There is no country, where, if one would mark it, a man might not find the like judgement; as by the fatness of fishes and creeping things, in the beginning of winter, we conjecture that there will be a great and long-lasting cold, against which wise nature provideth in living Creatures.  Orat. 
What thinkest thou of the questions made to Astrologers, might there not be found by thy device, an equal answer to them all?  Id. 
Although not an equal one, yet I think (because thou shalt in every regard find me a mere Idiot) there may be this way, some answer made. But how a conjecture may be given of all things that are demanded, it inquires a great enquiry. Nor is the manner how to do it fit to be written in books, though peradventure the answerer can not gather the weight of the answer, but by the weight of the question, for the incitation or stirring up, of him that moves the question, to ask, seems to be moved by some foresight of the future event, though himself see not from whence the motion comes; as he which feels somewhat in his eye, which he seethe not, asks of another, that he would see what it is that hurts him.  Orat. 
I think thou meanest, as in the wheel of Pythagoras, by the various combination of the name of the asker, his mother, the hour of the day, and the light of the moon, there is a way taught of giving answers: Or as a Prophet makes judgement from lots, or casual reading of Sibyl's books, or the Psalter; or from houses or Geomantic figures, or the chattering of birds, or the bending of the flame of fire, or the relation of a third man, or any other casual chance that interveines.  Id. 
There have been such that have indirectly sought to give answers, by conference which they had with the asker, in making him tell some news of the disposition of his country, if the impulsive spirit must needs manifest itself in long discourses. For if the demander inclined to sad talk, such was the event of the thing thought to be; is if to glad and merry speech, than the isse would be accordingly. But I imagined conjectures might be form accordingly to the face, garments, motion of the eyes, form of words; and of weights, looking upon the Lot of those things which I bide the demander again and again should be brought unto me; yet the more precious conjectures were from him, from whom some truer thing fell without premeditation, in whom a certain presaging spirit seemed to speak, nevertheless in this matter, I neither think the art possible, nor that he that hath it, can communicate his judgement, nor that a wise man ought to employ himself about it.  Orat. 
Thou sayest very well, For St. Austin reports that in his time, there was a certain drunken companion, who could discern the thoughts of men's minds, discover thiefs, and show other secret things, after a strange manner, and yet was in the mean time, a light vain follow, and no wise man.  Id. 
I know that I myself have foretold many things as the spirit gave it to me, and in the mean time, was utterly ignorant of the cause. At length I seemed to see, that it was not lawful for a grave man to speak without cause, and so ever after I held my peace.  Orat. 
Seeing then there is enough said, concerning these motions of the stars, add something now of Masick.  Id. 
To music, the Experiments of the Balance are most profitable. For by the diversity of weights of two Bells, that sound a tone, it is known in what proportion of harmony the tone consisteth. So also by the weight of Pipes, and of Waters that fill the Pipes, is known the proportion of a Diapason, Diapente, and Diatessaron, and all other Harmonyes that are any ways formable. Likewise by the weight of Hammers, form whose blows upon an Anvil, there ariseth any hammer; and by the weight of drops, that drop from some Rock into a Pond, and make divers sounds, and of Pips and all other musical instruments, the reason is best, and most precisely reached by the Balance.  Orat. 
Is it so in voices and songs?  Id. 
Yes, generally all harmonical concord's are most subtly found out by weights: yea, the weight of a thing is properly the harmonical proportion, arising from the various combination of divers things. Also the friendships and enmities of living Creatures, and of men of the same species, and whatsoever else, is weighed by harmonical concordances and contrary dissonances: So the health of a man is weighed by harmony, and sickness by that which is contrary to harmony; nay, after the same manner also, lightness and heaviness, prudence and simplicity, and many such things, if thou mark diligently.  Orat. 
What thinkest thou of Geometry?  Id. 
I think the nearest proportions of the circle, and the square, and all other things which belong to the difference of the capacity of figures, may fitly be proved by weights, than any other ways. For, if thou make a vessel like a column of a known Diameter and height, and another like a Cube of the same Diameter and height, and then fill them both with water, and weigh the water; by the diversity of weights will appear unto thee, the proposition of the square to the circle. And by this means thou mayst give a guess at the squaring of a circle, and whatsoever, about this, thou desirest to know. So if thou take too equal plates, and bending one of them round into a circle, make thereof a piller-fashioned vessel; and of the other makest a cubick square one, and then fillest these vessels with water; Thou shalt by the differing weights of water, know the different capacity of a circle, and a square of the same circumference. So having many such plates every way equal, thou mayst search the differences of the capacities in a triangled, a five cornered, a six cornered vessel, and so forth. In like manner, by weight thou mayst come to the knowledge of capacities of vessels, of what shape soever; and to instruments of measuring and weighing. How Balances are made. How one pound weight can life up a thousand, by the distance thereof from the Centre, and the various descent, either strait or crooked. And how all the subtle instruments of Ships, and other engines ought to be made. And therefore I think this statick knowledge very profitable, for whatsoever belongs to Geometry. Thou mayst also, if thou wilt, and be'st crurious weigh, the numbers of Hairs, Leaves, Grains, Sands, in one bushel, or of any thing else, if putting a small quantity in the Balance, and taking the weight and number of them, thou afterward weigh the whole. For by the proportion of weight to weight, thou mayst know the proportion of number to number.  Orat. 
Thou hast now explained the causes, why thou wishest the weights of things were taken by the balance, and orderly written. It is very likely the book would be exceeding profitable: great wen would be solilited, that in divers provinces they might be consigned, and brought into one; that so we might be the more easily lead to many things, that are yet hidden from us: For my part I will not cease to further the doing of it every where.  Id. 
If thou lovest me, be diligent in it, and so farewell.   
FINIS.  

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These Books following.  
MAn became guilty, or the corruption of nature by sin, written in French by john Francis Senault, and englished by Henry Earl of Monmouth. Yorks Heraldry. Bible of a very fair large Roman letter quarto. Orlando Furioso. Calais learned Readins, on the statute 23. of Henry 8. Chap. the 5th. of Sewers. Perkins on the Laws of England. The persons Law. Topics in the Laws of England. wilkinson's Office of Sheriffs. Vade mecum of a Justice of Peace. The Book of Fees. Sken de significatione verborum. Delamans' Use of the horizontal Qurdrant. Mathematical Recreations. Wilbyes' second set of Music 3.4.5. & 6. parts. Corderius in english by Brinsley. The Fort Royal of the Scriptures, or a Vade mecum concordance, presenting to the world one hundred heads of Scriptures, most of them common placed for public use. Dr. Fulkes Meteors. Malthus Fireworks. Nies Gumery and Fireworks. Cato Major, with Annotations, by Wil Austin Esq Mell Helliconium, by Alexd Rosse. Nosce te ipsum, by Sir john Davis. Annimadversions on Lillis Grammar. The History of Vienna & Paris. The Spanish Mandevile of Miracles. Lazarillo de Tormes. Christ passion, with Annorat by George Sands. Hero and Leander, by Christopher Marlowe, and George Chapman. Aicilla or Philotas, loving folly. Epigrams Divine, and Moral, by Sir Thomas urchard. Mayor's Catechism 80. A direction or discovery of an notable fraud committed by R. B. a seminary Priest of Rome, upon two of the Articles of the Church of England. Eccersitatio Scolastica, 80 Perkins young man's guide to godliness. Military instructions 80. The old Religion, by Ios. Hall   

Plays.  
Henry the fourth. Philaster. Maid's Tradgedy. King and no King. The grateful Servant. The strange discovery. The Hollander. Othello the more of Venice.