Peripatetical INSTITUTIONS. In the Way of that eminent Person and excellent Philosopher Sr. KENELM DIGBY. The THEORICAL PART. ALSO A THEOLOGICAL APPENDIX of the BEGINNING of the WORLD. BY THOMAS WHITE Gent. LONDON, Printed by R. D. and are to be sold by John Williams at the sign of the Crown in S. Paul's Churchyard. M.DC.LVI. Virg. Georg. 2. Happy who things Causes has attained to know, And all Fears and inexorable Fate Has trampled under feet:— The Method of Studying. whoever profoundly searches after Truth, And would not be misled by straggling Paths; Let him turn on himself his inmost Eye, And bend into a Ring his ranging Thoughts; Making his Soul see what she seeks abroad In her own native Treasures stored up lies: What the black cloud of Error hid, will soon Shine clearer than the Sun itself at noon. Boet. de Consol. Philosoph lib. 3. Metr. 11. The Translatour's ADDRESS. THis happy Analysis of Nature, which the infinite kindness of my beft Friend, the Author, has encouraged and enabled some pains of mine own to render plain English to myself, I dutifully present to my Country: Where so many clear Wits and strong Judgements (the perfect Aptitude to such a Philosophy) may, through the want or disuse of Latin, be disabled, or, by the extreme conciseness of the Style, and incorrectnesse of the Press, discouraged from struggling for It in the Original. The Subject, Nature and her general course, is universal and practically indifferent to all Nations: it seems, therefore, but just her Interpreter, Philosophy, should speak all languages; at least to that fair degree of currentnesse, as abstracted Reason itself is, every where, intelligible. Upon this resentment, the incomparable Sir Kenelm Digby (whose Expression would I could glory so proportionably to have hit, as my Master may his Mind) began lately to teach it Our Idiom; which it so soon and perfectly attained, as clear evidences His to be the truly- Natural Philosophy: What ingenuous Courage, once throughly engaged (and under so sure a Champion) the same advantageous Way, in the same noblest Field, could resist the temptation to follow such a Leader and such Success, upon so necessary a Design? In short, I have dared: nor, I hope, altogether unfortunately; at least, if an Authentic touch of Illustration, upon most of the knots and obscurities, in the Original both Matter and Delivery, may excuse the tolerating still some few Terms, purely out of the stubbornness of their Nature, unreduced and, perhaps, unreducible. These, Reader, are the Translatour's Apology and Address: the author's, His known Name and the Work itself. The Author's DESIGN. IN what darkness Philosophy lies huddled up, and how perplexing Chimaeras reduce it to desperation, 'tis needless to mention: They see't, whoever see any thing in it. As superfluous, therefore, 'twere to Apologise, why I would lend it my slender endeavours. Why, such as you see, I offer them, take this Account. The main fault seemed to me to lie at their doors, who neither do themselves nor can endure others should expect any certainty from It. Of these I have observed two sorts: Some there are that avouch as much of Geometry itself: some, that attribute this, not to the defect of Nature, but to the difficulty of the Matter, and the intricateness of Nature's folds. And, I was about to provide a preambulatory disputation to the former: when this Dilemma came into my head, that, They either admit the evidence of a legitimate Syllogism, or not: if they admit it, they cannot contest against Geometry; if they admit it not, I saw not what farther evidence there was in Nature able to force them: They were, therefore, desertours of humane Nature; nor otherwise to be dealt with, then as Madmen. Turning, then, to the later sort, I saw there's no so smart proceeding as the Geometrical way; where, when 'tis asked whether a thing can be demonstrated? the Affirmer, producing a demonstration, presently destroys the Problem: So, I thought, I was to proceed by Instances, if I meant to persuade any thing. Thence sprung this grain of Mustardseed; which, to what growth it may hereafter rise, 'tis not yet evident. Why I have styled them Institutions, the shortness and concise connection of the work sufficiently discover. I call them Peripatetical, because, throughout they subsist upon Aristotle's Principles; though the conclusions sometimes descent. That I declare them written in the way of that eminent Person and excellent Philosopher Sir Kenelm Digby; 'tis, because, since, in that so justly-to-beenvyed Book, Of the Immortality of the Soul, he has dissected the whole composition of Nature, from the first Notion of Body, to the very joints and articles of an invisible spiritual Soul, and laid it before the eyes of all; any other way, then that He had traced out, I neither would nor could proceed. Whatever, therefore, you meet with, upon that Subject, is borrowed thence: but so, as that I have transferred only the naked Bones, scarce hanging together by their sinews; wholly destitute of those Nerves and Colours with which they are sated there. There look for Nature, where you shall miss neither Orator nor Philosopher: we only act the part of Abridgers or Summulists. The other things which are treated through this whole work, lie yet hid in His Cabinet, expecting the pains of greater leisure. If I have called this the Theorical part; I would not, thence, have you expect another Practical one: for, I meant only to declare, that I touched nothing upon the Moral. In Logic you have a little; yet, something, unless I'm deceived, more than need: for, few Precepts are to be prescribed for Use, but a great deal of exercise. Out of the rest, if I have cut off the intricate and unprofitable petty Questions; methinks I have deserved thanks. Do you ask, What fruits I expect? That you should believe there is, in Nature and in things beyond Nature, a nolesse connection of Terms & force of Consequences, then in Mathematics: For, this the Order, and Brevity, and the invincible firmness, surely, of some Consequences will obtain of an unobstinate person. This if I shall have attained; since all Science is lastly resolved into the unity of Definitions▪ I hope, natural Science will be rescued from desperation. I have divided the Books into Lessons and very frequent Breaks: both for the greater clearness & commodity of Citation; as also, because, conceiving the entrance into these Institutions would be scarcely open to Novices, without the help of some more skilful, I have called a Lesson so much as may, at one fitting, be explicated; a Break, that which at one breath, or with one effort of the Mind and Voice; to afford, betwixt the Breaks, a breathing space from speaking. To the Auditors, Questioning is permitted, in that kind as may make them understand the things proposed; Opposition is prohibited, till they have, once or twice, run through the whole Work: For, whilst they are yet ignorant of what lies hid in the things to follow; by forestall the order, they spoil the Discourse, whilst they tamper with objecting. The Work is but short; and, for a little while, the affection of Credulity may be fairly exacted in a Learner, that he may clearly apprehend the things proposed: When he shall have understood against what he's to object, there will be liberty enough of disputing. You see, a Walk or Garden may serve well enough for this exercise: I have therefore given you a volume which will not load your Pocket. I have followed that Method which the necessity of consequences drew on, not, the rules of Logic prescribed, though yet it be not averse from this. If you blame the Obscurity, Aristotle's oral Instructions to Alexander. remember, Acroases are so to be published, that they become not public: that their penetration may be difficult without a Clue, yet not unpassable to a resolute pursuance. THE TABLE. FIRST BOOK. Containing that part of LOGIC, which is necessary to Sciences. LESSON I. OF Propositions, as they are the parts of a Syllogism. Pag. 1. II. Of a Syllogism and its Conclusion. 4. III. Of the Predicaments in common, and the three first in particular. 8. IV. Of the rest of the Predicaments. 13. V. Of the five Predicables and the signification of words. 16. VI Of Definition, Division and Disputation. 21. SECOND BOOK. Containing those things which concern the Nature of BODIES, in common. LESSON I. OF the composition of bulk or Bigness. Pag. 27. II. Of the Nature of Quantity and Place. 32. III. Of Time and local Motion. 39 IV. Of the four First Qualities. 47. V. Of the Elements. 51. VI Of Mixtion and the Second Qualities, or those which most immediately follow Mixtion. 55. VII. Of the manner of Mixtion, and the Passion of Mixed things. 59 VIII. Of Impassibility, Destruction, and the Accidents of Mixed bodies. 65. IX. Of the Motion of heavy and light bodies, and the Conditions of Acting. 68 X. Of the Motions of undulation, Projection, Reflection and Refraction. 71. XI. Of the electrical and Magnetical Attractions of hot bodies. 76. XII. Of the generation of Decomposit (or, compos'd-of-compounded) bodies, & Plants. 79. XIII. Of the more universal parts of Plants. 82. XIV. Of the Accidents of Plants. 85. XV. Of the generation and augmentation of Animals. 88 XVI. Of the Motion of the Heart, and some consequents of it. 92. XVII. Of the progressive Motion of Animals. 94. XVIII. Of the five senses of Animals. 98. XIX. Of the Objects of the Senses. 101. XX. Of Knowledge and Memory. 104. XXI. Of Sleep and Dreams. 106. XXII. Of Passions, and the expression of them. 109. XXIII. Of the communicating Affections to others. 112. XXIV. Of the seeming-Rationall Actions of Animals. 115. THIRD BOOK. Containing those things which concern the WORLD, and its greater Parts. LESSON I. OF the limitation, Unity, and composition of the World. Pag. 118. II. Of the Mortality & kinds of those things that are in the world. 121. III. Of the parts of the Planetary world, and specially those of the Earth. 125. IV. Of the Sea and its Accidents. 129. V. Of Fountains, Rivers and Lakes. 132. VI Of the Air and those things that are done in it near the Earth. 137. VII. Of Clouds, Rain, Snow, & Hail. 140. VIII. Of fiery meteors appearing in the Air. 147. IX. Of truly fiery meteors hanging in the Air. 152. X. Of the generation and nature of Winds. 156. XI. Of Earthquakes & their Effects. 163. XII. Of the Meteors of the other parts of the world and especially of Comets. 165. XIII. Of the Ebbing and Flowing of the Sea, and its Accidents. 168. XIV. Of the Motion of the Earth, and the Causes of it. 174. XV. Of the Oppositions against the Motion of the Earth: and of its Effects. 177. XVI. Of the Motion of the Air, with the Earth; and its Effects. 180. XVII. Of the Causes of the Motion of the Moon and other Stars. 183. XVIII. Of the Primum Mobile, the Duration and Quiddity of the World. 187. FOURTH BOOK. Containing that part of METAPHYSIC, which explicates the Essential Notions of BODIES. LESSON I. OF the divisibility of Substance into Formal parts. Pag. 191. II. Of the formal parts of Substance, in particular. 195. III. Of the unity and distinction o● Bodies, in common. 199. IV. Of the essential Unity and Distinction of the Elements, and Mixed bodies. 203. V. Of the Essence of Animals, & of the Soul. 208. VI Of the Chief Animal and the essential Distinction of Bodies. 214. VII. Of the mutation of the Individuality, in the several kinds of Bodies. 219. VIII. Of the proper Action of the Chief Animal. 225. IX. Of the Soul of the Chief Animal, or, of the MIND. 231. X. Of the Proficiency & Deficiency of MAN, and of his Essence. 236. FIFTH BOOK. Containing that part of METAPHYSIC, which treats of SUBSTANCES ABSTRACTED from Matter, & of the Operation of Things. LESSON I. OF the Soul's Separation from the Body. 243. ●I. Of the Science of a separated Soul, and its Unity with the Soul. 249. III. Of the Eminency of a separated Souls acts, above those it exercises in the Body. 255. IV. Of the Felicity and Infelicity of separated Souls, and their Immutability. 259. V. Of the nature of Existence, and its unity with the Thing. 264. VI Of the Existence, Simplicity and Eternity of GOD. 267. VII. Of the perfection, Immutability and Science of GOD. 272. VIII. Of the Divine Volition and Liberty. 277. IX. Of the Divine Names; how they are improperly spoken of GOD. 283. X. Of the Degrees of impropriety in the Divine Names. 288. XI. Of the Existence, Nature, and Science of INTELLIGENCES. 293. XII. Of the comparison of Intelligences to Souls and Bodies. 297. XIII. Of the Distinction, Subordination and Number of Intelligences. 302. XIV. Of the Action of GOD, Intelligences and Bodies, severally. 306. XV. Of the cooperation of the Agents to the making of Substances, a Rational Soul, and to all other Effects. 213. XVI. Of the Government of GOD, and the Locality of Incorporeal Things. 318. XVII. Of the Conservation of Creatures, and the Durations of things. 324. XVIII. Of the Manner of Action, on the Subjects side. 330. APPENDIX. CHAP. I. A Philosophical Discourse, concerning the Creation of Heaven and Earth. Pag. 341. II. An Explication of GENESIS, concerning the same. 345. III. A Philosophical Discourse of the works of the two first Days. 348. IV. An Explication of Genesis, concerning the same. 351. V. A Philosophical Discourse of the works of the other four Days. 354. VI An Explication of Genesi, sconcerning the same. 358. VII. Some Animadversions about the Text of the first Chapter of Genesis. 364. VIII. A natural Discourse of the Creation of Man. 370. IX. An Explication of Genesis, concerning the Creation of Man. 372. X. An Explication of the same, concerning the Creation of Woman. 378. XI. An Explication of Genesis, concerning Paradise. 383. XII. The History of ADAM'S FALL, out of Genesis. 387 XIII. Of the Punishment of our first Parents: out of the same. 391. XIV. Of the Evils derived to Posterity: out of the same. 399. XV. Of the Propagation of Mankind: out of the same. 405. XVI. Of the FLOOD: out of the same. 407. XVII. Of the Cessation of the Deluge: out of the same. 413. XVIII. Of the Covenant made with NO, after the Flood: out of the same. 418. XIX. Of the second Propagation of Mankind into several Countries: out of the same. 423. ERRATA. Pag. 56. line. 26. touching. p. 60. l. 7. a constant. p. 126. l. 22. del. to. p. 144. l. 10. del.;. p. 181. l. 9 turned. p. 230. l. 20. by the. p. 241. l. 10. he is. p. 307. l. 5. immutable. p. 315. l. 9 immutable. p. 344. l. 26. of a. p. 405. l. last. by them. Peripatetical INSTITUTIONS. First Book. Containing that part of LOGIC which is necessary to SCIENCES. LESSON I. Of Propositions as they are the parts of a Syllogism. 1. Logic is the Art of Discoursing. Discourse is the Progress of the Understanding, out of one thought or judgement into another: but in a more special acceptation of the word, 'tis A Motion whereby the Understanding, out of a fit and orderly disposure of some judgements already possessed by it, deduces and leads itself into the knowledge of something it was ignorant of. And this Discourse, when 'tis close and exactly perfect, is, by a Greek term, called a Syllogism. 2. A Syllogism is composed of three Propositions: A Proposition is a speech whereby something is affirmed or denied concerning another: Whence, to its perfection, three parts are necessary; That which is affirmed, That of which 'tis affirmed, and That which expresses the affirmation, or the Term which connects them together. 3. These three are called Notions, or apprehensions, or things as they are in the Understanding, that is, according to what is common to them in themselves and in the Understanding: For, as the Statue of Caesar in something agrees with, in something differs from Caesar; so the Understanding actually possessed of any knowledge, has something wherein it resembles and agrees with the Object, other things wherein 'tis unlike and differs from it. 4. 'Tis already said that Propositions are, some Affirmative, some Negative. Now, sometimes it falls out, that an Affirmation is applied to one thing alone; sometimes to divers indifferently, as many agree in some one and the same Notion: This last is called an Universal Proposition; as when we say, Every man is a living Creature. 5. When the affirmation is applied to one thing alone, that is taken either determinately, as Socrates, Bucephalus, etc. and then the proposition is called Singular: or else indeterminately, as when we say, some Man, or Horse, etc. and then 'tis called a Particular proposition. 6. Again: since a proposition is either affirmative or negative; and the same thing cannot▪ at once, both be & notbe: if, at any time, one proposition affirms what another denies, such cannot be both true together; and therefore they are called Opposites or Incompossibles. 7. When the affirmation and negation falls upon the same thing in all respects, such propositions are called Contradictories; as, Socrates, here and now, runs; Socrates, here and now, runs not: But when the proposition is universal on both sides, they are called Contraries; as, All men are wise, None are wise. 8. Farther: as 'tis evident, the same thing cannot both be and notbe, at once; so 'tis as clear that every thing is, whilst it is: whence, if at any time a proposition pronounces the same thing concerning the same, 'tis called self-evident; as when we say, The whole is greater than a part of itself, for 'tis as much as to say, A part and more is more than a part. 9 Wherefore, if it be once known, that the same Notion is identified with two others; it will presently be evident, that those two are identified betwixt themselves: for otherwise, that Notion which is the same with them would not be the same with itself. 10. Two propositions, therefore, being put, which discover the identification of some one Notion with two others; a third proposition evidently emerges, whereby the identification of those two Notions betwixt themselves is declared: And these three compose a Syllogism. LESSON II. Of a Syllogism and its Conclusion. 1. A Proposition being a speech which pronounces one thing of another; and since, betwixt three, there can be but three Variations, viz. that one be pronounced of two, or two of one, or one of another, and that again of the third; there are only three sorts or Figures of Syllogisms. 2. And, a Syllogism consisting of such speeches as connect one Term to another; since, this third way, the Term which joins the rest falls into the midst between them, becoming under or Subject to one, and above or Predicate to the other; it truly and properly connects them: whence, that Figure whose Terms are thus ordered, is called the First; and 'tis the chief of all others, for all the Propositions and their Terms or Notions have a constant and determinate place and order in the Syllogism: 3. Whereas, in the other Figures it imports not whether of the two Antecedents be preferred; and, in the Conclusion, either of the Terms may, indifferently, be the Subject or Predicate, And, if we look more narrowly into it, the other two Figures will, indeed, appear but distorsions of the first; whereby the Notion, which, really, is the Middle one of the three, is made one of the Extremes, because all the three are identified. The first Figure, therefore, alone is according to Nature, and Necessary. 4. And in this first, because the middle notion is once affirmed or made the Predicate, and once the Subject, the Conclusion cannot be varied, except it be in respect of the Universality and Particularity, or Affirmation and Negation; whence the Conclusion becomes either an Universal or Particular Affirmative or Negative; as uses to be cyphred by these words, Barbara, Celarent, Darii, Ferio: in which the vowels show the Nature of the Proposition; A standing for an Universal Affirmative, E, an Universal Negative, I, a Particular Affirmative, O, a Particular Negative. 5. And, because these four Differences contain all manner of Propositions, in which Truth may be looked for; there are only four Moods or forms of Syllogisms profitable, and they sufficient to deduce it: the rest are all provided rather for curiosity and abundance than benefit. 6. There is another kind of Syllogism which some call Expository, consisting purely of Singulars: And because a singular proposition comprehends its Notion as well as an universal, 'tis a perfect Syllogism, though little used in Sciences, and therefore little treated of. 7. Again; since those things which are Circumstantial to any other thing either belong to it, or not; and if they belong to it, then either to it alone, or to many other things as well as it: the propositions, too, which are deduced out of these, must be some Proper, some Common, some wholly Accidental and Unconcerning. 8. Amongst which, since Proper ones always express something which has the Nature of a Cause or Effect, and an Effect cannot exist without an actual Cause, nor an actual Cause without an Effect; such propositions are fit to conclude upon any Subject, about which we are making inquiry, that It is, and cannot possibly but be; to do which we call framing a Science, and the Syllogism whereby we work thus, a Demonstration, and its Conclusion, Science: which, if we know why a thing is, that is, if the Demonstration be made from the Cause, both the knowledge and Demonstration are called à Priori, or from something going before; if otherwise, à Posteriori, or from something following. 9 Common and Vnconcerning Propositions are both of this Nature, Not to be applied to the Conclusion but by the Convoy and Mediation of some other closer relations; which yet, lying hid and being undiscernible, are only capable of affording an apparent knowledge called Opinion. 10. From which rule, such propositions are to be excepted which assume for proof the knowledge of another person: for, since Knowledge is adequate to the Thing itself; 'tis, as it were, a proper Accident: and the knowledge of a thing attained by these propositions is called Faith. Which kind of knowledge may arrive to a certainty, if the Authority assumed be out of all question: yet it is not Science, because not evident; since the thing appears but in the knowledge of another, and is undiscernible in itself, being it moves not the Understanding by itself and things naturally connected with it. LESSON III. Of the Predicaments in Common, and the three first in particular. 1. WE have said that Propositions are composed of Notions; and that a Notion is the thing, according to the being it has in the Understanding: There are, therefore, so many kinds of Notions as there are several common habitudes of any thing without or within the Understanding, whereby it may be referred to any other thing, that is, Predicated of a Subject. 2. Now any thing may be considered both according to what it has in itself or is in its own Nature, and according to other things which, by consideration, are drawn in and applied to it. And, as to its intrinsecalls, a thing is considered either absolutely and in its very self; and so 'tis called a Substance, and that which is pronounced of it a Substantial Predicate: Or, as 'tis compared to all other things, in that respect wherein all things agree; and thus we ask, how big a thing is? and what we answer concerning it is called its Quantity: Thirdly, 'tis compared to those things which are of the same kind with it▪ or to its own particular nature; and so we ask, what manner of thing is it, that is, how perfect is it in its own nature? and what we answer is called its Quality: Lastly, 'tis compared to other particular things; and we ask, what 'tis in respect to another? and the answer is called Related or Relation. 'Tis plain that, under these four heads, are comprehended all things considerable in the Nature of any Subject, that is, which are in itself. 3. But, those things, which are circumstantial to another and may be referred to it, are either applied with Motion or in Rest. If in Rest, the Predicate is neither constantly fixed to the Subject, nor the Subject to the Predicate; and then we ask, where a thing is? and the answer is called its Place: Or else the Subject is fixed to the Predicate; as a Statue to its Basis, Liquor to a Vessel, one that sits to his Chair, etc. and, as before, we ask, where a thing is? whereto the Predicate we answer is called its Site or Situation: Or lastly, the Predicate is fixed to the Subject, and we ask, what it has? to which that we answer is called its Habit, as Garments, Arms, Instruments. 4. In Motion, if the Subject be moved, the Agent always accompanies it; if it move, the Patient: and, in both cases, Time or the Motion of the Heavens goes along with them, from which no Motion can be exempt. Of this last, we ask, When was the Motion? and what we answer is called the Time of the Motion. 5. When the Subject is moved, we ask, by what? and that we answer is said to Act, and the Subject to Suffer from it: when the Subject moves, we ask, what it moves? and that we answer is said to Suffer, and itself too Act. Thus, the reason is evident, why there are just ten Orders or Classes of Predicates, or Notions, or Being's in the Understanding, which are called Predicaments. 6. Substance is immediately distinguished into Spirit and Body. The differences of Spirits are unknown. Bodies are either Living, that is, moving themselves, or Dead, that is, not moving, but moved by others. Living bodies are either Sensitive, or without Senses. Sensitive are either Intellectual, viz. Man, or Brutal, Beasts. Man is either Socrates, or Plato, or Xenophon, etc. and these are no farther divisible; whence they are called individuals; the rest Vniversalls, because they are predicated universally of all that are under them, that is, of every one. 7. Quantity is either Discrete, as Number; or Continued: and this, either Permanent, or Successive. Permanent is twofold; Extensive, whose perfection consists in three degrees including one another, Longitude, Latitude, Profundity; and Intensive, which is Weight. Successive Quantity is contained in Action, Passion, Speaking, and, generally, in Motion. 8. Concerning the proper nature of Body, because 'tis Finite, we ask, of what Figure ' 'tis? because 'tis Alterable by others, we ask, how 'tis, in respect to those Qualities according to which 'tis variable? as Heat, cold, colour, savour, etc. and this either constantly or in Motion; and we answer, accordingly, either by the Passable Quality or by the Passion: as, in a Fever to be hot, or to blush for Bashfulness, is a Passion; but to be of a hot complexion, or ruddy countenance, is a Passable quality. Again, because a Body is ordered naturally to Act and to Suffer, we ask, what it can or cannot do? and that which is answered is called its Power or Impotency. Lastly, because every nature consists in a kind of Temperature, we ask, whether it be well or ill in respect to that; that is, whether it exactly or disproportionately possesses those things which are requisite to that; and this, either constantly or for a time? to which the answer is called, respectively, a Habit or Disposition. LESSON IU. Of the rest of the Predicaments. 1. THose things which relate or are compared to another, are either compared for having some Notion common to both; or for their Acting or Suffering; or else, by a certain third way, which participates of both these: as, when a Picture is made like the Original, that neither acts upon the Picture, nor is the Picture (being wholly of another kind) really like it, yet in a manner, 'tis both: and this respect is called of the thing measured to the Measure. 2. And, in this kind, there is one only relation, and that on the side of the Measured: For a Relation being the Order of one thing to another, and since, between two things, one may be so ordered to the other, that the other may either have or not have a coordination to it; it comes to pass that those things which are in the same order (such as are those two first kinds) have a relation on both sides, but those that are of different orders, so that, notwithstanding, the one be ordered to the other, have a relation but on one side. 3. Besides, it often happens that the Understanding, through Custom or an imperfect way of knowing, expresses even things that have no ordination, by a certain relative resemblance; and then 'tis a mental relation (by schoolmen called de dici) not a real one: as also, when the Understanding has expressed the nature of any thing by a Negation, saying, a Man does not see, or has no hair; and then gives a positive being to this Notion, saying, a Man is blind or bald; according to the natural Aptitude or Ineptitude of the Subject to the denied Quality, 'tis called a Mental Negation or Privation, respectively. 4. Wherefore, since, by these only ways, the Understanding can so vary any thing which it knows, that a change may remain on the Objects side, and enter into the consideration of it, as belonging to the thing known; there can be three only kinds of Mental Being's: For, the disputes of the Moderns concerning such entities, are but gay Trifles, and the contemplation of an erroneous definition. 5. There is a kind of Relations, not unjustly, called Intellectual, which follows a thing in the Understanding in virtue of the real quality of mere Understanding; and these relations are of a Logical Nature, as those Terms of Universal, Predicable, Subject, Antecedent, Consequent, & the like: And these Relations as much follow out of things, in that respect, as they are in the Understanding, as Likeness follow's a thing in as much as 'tis white, or Equality because 'tis Quantitative: This, therefore, is called Intellectual, because the Understanding is called Intellect, and in no other respect. 6. An Agent and a Patient clearly express two causes: which, yet, the Understanding (distinguishing, & finding parts differently respecting the effect) Logically and to serve its turn for Demonstration, divides into four. 7. And finding, in the Agent, that it can and that it does Act; the Understanding calls that whereby it does or can▪ act the Efficient cause, and that which moves or makes it to act, the End: Likewise, in the Patient, distinguishing what it is that suffers, and what it suffers; it calls that the Form, this the Matter: satisfying, thus, these Interrogations, From what? Why? By what or How? In what? 8. Plato adds an Idea or Exemplar: but, 'tis clear, that what wants an Exemplar cannot work without it; and consequently, there is not yet an Efficient cause. The species of these, and indeed of all the last six Predicaments, are little used, and therefore omitted. LESSON V. Of the five Predicables, and the signification of Words. 1. HEnce 'tis evident, there are two kinds or differences of Predications: For some Predicates of the same line or Predicament comprehend others, and are predicated of them as an Universal of a Particular: But Predicates of distinct lines are predicated of one another, as a thing superadded is predicated of that to which 'tis applied. 2. Predicates of the first kind are said to be predicated in quid or as the what; being such as answer to the question, what a thing is? And, if the predicate comprehends the full answer to that question, 'tis called a Species: but, if it only contains a part, so that other common considerations are comprehended under it, 'tis called a Genus; whose compart or partner, equal to the Species, answers not directly to the question What? but, with the addition of what kind or what in particular? supposing the answer to the question What already made by the Genus: and this is called a Difference. 3. The other kind of Predication is applied to some things necessarily connected with the Subject, which are called Properties: and are strictly such, if they appertain to it alone and always; but, more at large, if they be deficient in these conditions. Sometimes 'tis applied to things, which may be both joined to and separated from the Subject, without destroying it; and such are called Accidents. Thus are there five, commonly called, Predicables, or Porphyries five Terms. 4. But, since Notions are not communicated, but by the means of Words; and the same word sometimes is applied to several Notions, sometimes to one only: as oft as the same word, in the same signification, that is, meaning the same Notion, is applied to more, 'tis said to signify or be spoken univocally. 5. A word which serves for several Notions has this property either by chance, as when in one Language it signifies one thing, in others another; and then 'tis called purely Equivocal: or else, of set purpose, 'tis transferred from one Notion to another; and then 'tis Equivocal by design. 6. And, of this kind are those words which, by necessity or upon occasion, are transferred from one Notion to another, by reason of the Connection of the two Notions or things, or in consideration of their being Cause and Effect to one another: As, when healthful, which signifies the quality of that temper which is just fit and convenient to a sensitive Creature, is transferred to signify the quality of Urine, because such a quality in it is the effect of a due temper in the Creature; or to Meat, because it preserves and produces that fit temper: Or else for Proportion sake: so the expression, to stand at the Helm, is transferred from a Ship to the Governor of a City; because, according to proportion, he does that in the City which a Pilot does in a Ship. 7. And, in such kind of words, the later signification includes the former: as, if you would explicate Urine as healthful, you must say, 'tis such an Urine as is the sign of health in the sensitive Creature; if, the Governor of a City as standing at the Helm you must say, 'tis he that does that in a City which a Pilot does in a Ship. These words are said Analogically, or by Analogy, to signify more things. 8. And thus the word Thing or Being is extended to those ten lines or Predicaments before explicated: For, since a Thing is that which has a being, the first Predicament alone justly challenges to itself the title of a Thing in this signification; that is, as Thing signifies An individual substance, which Aristotle calls the first Substance, Suppositum or Hypostasis, &, in rational Substances, the Person; for these names signify the same. 9 Whereas the rest have no being, but are only Affections and certain determinations of what has a being: for example, Socrates or Callias to be Men, is to have a being & to be Substances; but Callias 's being of the same Nature with Socrates, which we call a relation of identity, is not at all distinct from them, & consequently can have no being but in them, and that their being; yet, 'tis not according to this Notion that They have their being: This Identity, therefore, has a being, not because it, according to its own notion, gives a being, or is that whereby a thing has a being; but, because 'tis a Notion which explicates a thing, that, according to another Notion, has a being. 10. Hence it appears why a consequence holds negatively, from a Substance to all other things; but positively, from other things to a Substance: For, that which is not, can neither be the whole nor part of a Thing; and, if it be a part or a whole, if fitted to its Own Nature, if applied to others, certainly it is. 11. 'tis as evident, if any never so little mutation be made in the Substance, the whole is changed: for, the Substance being that Notion whereby the thing is what it is; and every mutation in Substance changing that Notion; by every change made in the Substance, that is changed whereby this thing is, and consequently, this very thing. LESSON VI. Of Definition, Division, and Disputation. 1. TO know whether a word be spoken univocally of more things, we must look whether it be predicated, still, according to the same Notion: now, a Notion is evidenced by a Definition. A Definition, therefore, is a speech composed of more Notions, which, taken together, make up that one Notion which before was not known. 2. Since, therefore, a Definition is the very Notion defined, resolved, as it were, into parts: 'tis clear, it can neither be more ample nor narrower then that which is defined. 3. Again; 'tis plain, that, to ask a Definition is nothing but ask what they mean, who understandingly use a word: wherefore, since some words express Notions that are common to all mankind (as, those of the ten Predicaments) 'tis evident that, in these and such like, we must observe, what the common-People, who make up mankind, mean by such a word. 4. But, of Proper Names and Terms appropriated to any Discipline, to ask the Definition is to ask, what the Masters of that Discipline mean by such a word? for these are, as it were, the Creators and Causes of the words. 5. Again, 'tis evident, he that asks a Definition ought to collect the usual sayings of the intelligent users of this word, that concern the thing as 'tis expressed by this word: which, if they be all gathered, 'tis as demonstrable the Definition is made right, as any cause can be demonstrated from its effects; since, 'tis plain, those sayings depend from the notion of the word as from their cause, and consequently, the Notion of necessity appears in them. 6. But, if it happen to appear out of such sayings, that the word has more significations than one; amongst those that are made by design, it will easily be seen which is the principal, because that signification will be included in all the rest: as, the soundness of Meat or Urine include the soundness of an Animal. 7. Again, since those things which are demonstrated concerning another are, either in the thing itself, or else are effects or causes of it; both which appear in the thing itself, and are conformable and proper to it: now, a Definition explicates the thing itself: 'tis clear, that whatsoever is demonstrable of the thing is rooted in the very Definition: Whence, a Definition is a certain principal Instrument of Science; and all the solutions of difficulties depend chiefly upon Definitions. 8. To make a Definition right, the Art of Distinguishing must be learned. For, a Term being proposed to be defined, out of what has been said, 'tis easy to find in what Predicament 'tis: which once known, all that remains is, by dividing the Genus, to descend by degrees, till you come to the particular in question; when, presently, you have the Definition. And if, as it sometimes happens, many several Genus' have a share in the thing to be defined; this same course is to be pursued through them all. 9 But care must be taken, to divide by proper differences, that is, such as include in them the thing to be divided; seeing they are nothing else but more or less of the very Genericall Notion: for accidental differences are infinite, and besides the intention of him that asks for a Definition. 10. Have a care, also, the Division be made by Contradiction, that is, into parts contradictory one to another; for so the Divider may be sure he comprehends the whole Genus. Lastly, these rules being observed, the fewer Members there are, that is, parts into which the Genus is divided, the more exactly you proceed. That Division, too, whereby Accidents are distinguished from their Subject, is very useful to Sciences: for, when it appears that a Concrete, that is, a thing which comprehends several parts or Notions, is the Cause of any effect, by this Division you come to that Notion, according to which, precisely, 'tis the cause; which must necessarily be connected with the effect, simply speaking, and consequently, the effect may be demonstrated out of it à priori: For example, if it be known that Policletus made a Statue; separating the Accidents, 'twill appear that he made it, not as White, nor as Musical, nor as Policletus, but as one skilled in such an Art; and hence you'll collect, that All skilful in that Art can make a Statue. 11. Out of a Division and Definition made aright, there arise two sorts or Species of self-evident propositions: For, as oft as one of the Terms is a direct part of the definition of another Term, the Proposition is clear; as, if a Man be a Reasonable Creature, he is a Creature: Again, in a Division truly made, 'tis plain, the parts may divisively be pronounced of the whole; as, when we say, a Number is either Even or Odd. Whoever aspires to Sciences must be assiduous in these; but, above all, in the practice of Defining; for, all the connection of Notions is found in Definitions, and the connection of Terms is that which makes Science. 12. These, too, chiefly detect the snares of Equivocal terms, which are the very Bane of Science; especially those which are caused by Analogy. Now, Equivocation is displayed, by looking into words what way soever connected; as, into Causes, effects, contraries, superiors, inferiors, etc. wherein, if once any thing be found, which agrees to one and not to the other, the Equivocation is discovered: As, if a Voice and a Saw be both said to be sharp, but the Contrary to the Voice is flat, to the Saw, blunt; 'tis plain that sharp is not predicated of them both in the same signification, and therefore 'tis equivocal. 13. As for our modern Disputes, 'tis to be observed, that the Defendant either puts a false Conclusion; or, if it be true, he holds another incoherent with it; or, at least, if there be no opposition among his Tenets, yet he is ignorant of the Antecedents and Consequents to his Thesis; or, lastly, he is perfect only at this Thesis. In the two first cases, he may be convinced, if the Disputant behave himself well: in the third, too, if the Disputant can bring him about to yield to some falsity in those things he is ignorant of, he may easily convince him. 14. In the fourth case, one must dispute Critically, that is, either something afar off must be sought for, and foreign to the Question, which the Defendant is not obliged to be skilful in; and clapping Authority on the back on't, to fright him into the admission of a falsity; which is the trick of most of those that dispute out of Medium's from Theology and the Divine Omnipotence: or else, one must argue out of common and logical Notions, in which both the terms are ambiguous, and Equivocation easily hides itself. Peripatetical INSTITUTIONS. Second Book. Containing those things which concern the nature of BODIES in common. LESSON I. Of the Composition of Bulk or Bigness. EVclide having demonstrated, El. 6. that 'tis possible to divide any undivided line, Pr. 10. into full as many parts, as any other whatever has been divided, that is, into parts beyond any number assignable, that is, into infinite: there's no farther doubt but a Body or Magnitude is divisible without end. 2. Whence it follows, that one indivisible in quantity, added to another, makes it not bigger: For, if it did, a finite number of indivisibles would constitute quantity; and consequently, a Body would not be divisible without end. 3. Again: since any Multitude increases by the addition of one to those already supposed, even though 'twere infinite: and yet the addition of one indivisible, to whatever presupposed number, makes it not greater: 'tis clear, that neither an infinite multiplication of indivisibles is sufficient to make quantity; and consequently, that a Body or bigness is not composed of infinite Indivisibles. 4. Moreover, since 'tis manifest that, if any two parts actually exist in a Body or Magnitude, even all the parts into which a Body is divisible do actually preexist in it, too; and since 'tis plain, if a Magnitude were divided into all it were divisible into, the remains would be purely infinite Indivisibles: 'tis perfectly manifest that no two parts do actually exist in a Body or Magnitude. 5. 'Tis urged against the divisibility of a Body in infinitum, that there would be infinite parts in it; and since an infinite can never be measured, no part of a body can be passed over in a finite time; and consequently, there can be no Motion▪ Aristotle answers, that an actual infinite can never, indeed, be passed over, but in an infinite time, too: but that the parts of a Magnitude are only, potentially, infinite; and, therefore, nothing hinders but they may be passed over in a finite time. Galilaeus replies, As any two halfs do not, therefore, require less time to pass them over, because they are not separated: so neither can infinite parts (supposing them in a Magnitude) be passed over in less time, because they are but possible, then if they were actually or in effect. 6. 'Tis answered, that if, in the potentiality of a Magnitude, there were, really, infinite parts, whereof every one, limited in themselves and distinct from one another, had a determinate bigness; they would indeed require an infinite time to be passed over: But there's no such matter: for, the parts of a Magnitude have so undetermined a quantity, that they may be bigger or less, according to the proportion to the whole wherein they are taken; whence, since, the more are put, the less they are, it comes to pass that they never exceed a certain determinate sum, which is the Magnitude of the whole, how high soever they increase in Number. 7. Again: 'tis objected against this assertion of no parts being actually in a Magnitude: First, that 'tis against the credit of our Senses, for, we see divers and several parts of a Table or Stick; our hands, too, and fingers are many. 8. 'Tis answered, by denying that we see many parts of a Table or Stick: for, if we saw they were several, our sight could distinguish one from another, and we could just tell where one ends and another begins: since, therefore, the nearest immediate parts are separated, only by an Indivisible; and an Indivisible cannot be discerned by sense; 'tis evident, it belongs not to the Senses to distinguish one part from another. 9 And, whereas 'tis added, that we see two Hands and many Fingers of the same Man's: 'tis true, indeed; but a Hand or a Finger signifies not a part actually, but in potentia or possibility: For, if a Hand or Finger were cut off from the rest of the Body, it were, now, no longer a Hand or Finger, since it would be no more an Instrument of taking any thing, which is of the very definition of a Hand or Finger. 10. 'Tis objected, thirdly, those are actually distinct, of which Contradictories can be verified: But, 'tis truly pronounced of divers parts of a Magnitude, that this is seen, touched, hot, cut, etc. whilst the contradictories to these are as truly said of another part; nay, 'tis really true, that this part is not that, as the Hand is not the Foot, an Eye is not an Ear: Wherefore, these parts must needs be actually distinct. 11. 'Tis answered, that Contradiction is only in respect of our Understanding; wherefore, the Contradictories have only a notional repugnance in the Subject, as it is in our Understanding. Since then, the parts have a distinct being in our Understanding; from thence 'tis that they are capable to sustain Contradictories: Which to make plain, instead of this Proposition, This part is seen, touched, warm, etc. let us say, The thing, according to this part, is seen, touched, warm, etc. and not according to that; is it not clear the same thing sustains Contradictories as 'tis diversely apprehended by the Understanding, because the Understanding by this reflection, according, makes the same thing divers Subjects. 12. The like 'tis when we say, a hand is not a foot: for it signifies that a Man as having the faculty of taking any thing, is not a Man as having the faculty of walking. And the same rule, we see, holds in abstracted Notions; for, though we say, an Animal is rational, yet we say, Animality is not Rationality. LESSON II. Of the Nature of Quantity and Place. 1. PArts, then, not being actually in a Magnitude, it follows, that Extension or Divisibility is not accidental to it, but the very nature of Quantity: Whence, we see, as oft as one asks, how much there is of such a thing; for example, a way, a piece of Cloth, Liquor, etc. we answer, so many furlongs, els, ounces, etc. that is, by the parts into which they are divisible. 'Tis plain, therefore, that the very nature of Quantity is Divisibility. 2. Hence, again, 'tis clear, that 'tis not to be enquired how the parts of a Magnitude come to be united: for, since more cannot be made of any thing, but what first was not more, or, one; 'tis evident, that what is divisible is, in that very respect, one; and out of the very nature of Quantity its parts derive an unity. 3. Nor is it less manifest, that nothing, besides Quantity, is extended and divisible: for, 'tis not intelligible, that any thing can be divided, and yet have no Divisibility: Wherefore, that they call Imaginary space is nothing at all, nor has it any distinguishable parts; much less can it be a means of distinguishing other things, by its own distinction. 4. 'Tis objected, Before the Creation of the World, there was a certain possibility of a World; and a greater of the whole world then of any part; nay, even now, without or about this world, 'tis possible other Bodies should be created, bigger than this world: Yet, such a Body cannot be created, but some parts of it must be more distant from this, then others: Therefore, a greater and less distance from the world is imaginable; and consequently, an Imaginary Space. 5. 'Tis answered, There is, indeed, a possibility of such a world: but, 'tis either in the Power of God, and so is nothing else but his very Essence; or, in the Idea of some understanding Creature (and is only the mere conformity of the Predicate with the Subject, or of one part with another) which says, there is a world, or such things agree well together. But, without the world there is no distance, now; though there would be, were any new Body created: for, since Distance signifies extension and parts; and a Body is composed of parts; 'tis plain, that, a Body being created, Distance too, is created: But, to imagine Distance abstracted from a Body is manifestly against this first principle of Reason, which denies that the same can be a Thing and nothing. 6. Again, 'tis evident, there's no such thing as a kind of infinite Magnitude or Vastness, wherein all Bodies are: for bodies would not be counter-extended with such a Magnitude; & consequently, since Bodies are Quantitative things, that would not be such. 7. Out of what has been said, 'tis plain, there is no empty place in the world; that is, there is no hollow body, wherein there is not another Body: for, it being determined, that Distance is a Body; 'tis manifest that, taking away Body, all Distance is taken away: Since, therefore, 'tis plain, that distant things are joined by taking away the distance; if, out of a hollow body, that be taken away which keeps the sides asunder, the sides remain conjoined, & the Body is no longer hollow. 8. Whence it appears, the wonder of those that ask, If all the Air should be taken out of a vast hollow sphere, and nothing else should be done, what would follow? is irrational; and signifies just as if they should say, If the sides of the sphere were joined, & nothing else done, would they be joined? 9 If, then, all quantitative things are joined together, they are Continued: For, things continued are no otherwise, so, but, in virtue of the Quantity, which is in either part: since, therefore, in these, there's Quantity on either side; whatever quantitative things are conjoined must be continued. 10. Out of what has been said, the Notion of Place is collected: For, it appears to us, that is, to Mankind, that Place is an immovable Vessel, which some bodies go out of and others enter into: moreover, that the Earth is absolutely immovable, and that Heaven and the Stars observe a constancy in their Motion, & so give a ground, on which the notion of immobility may be founded; whence, a Vessel, by respects to a determinate part of the Earth & of the motion of the Heavens, will gain an apprehension of immobility. To say, therefore, a Body is in such a place, is as much as to say, 'Tis in a Body which has such a situation to the Earth and to the Heavens; for example, 'tis at such a distance from such a Mountain, towards the beginning of Aries, or the Sunrising. 11. And, that this is true, appears out of those explications of Place, whereby, usually, answer is made to the Question, Where is such a thing? For, we answer by such things as, in our apprehensions, are immovable: in the last resolution, by the parts of the Heavens; next, by Mountains, Rivers, Cities, Houses, Trees, etc. and more immediately by Walls and things fastened to Walls, or rather, by immovable things within the House, as Beds, Cupboards, etc. 'Tis plain, therefore, that Place is the Body which next encloses the thing within it; as 'tis conceived to be in a certain site to the rest of the world, or its fixed parts. 12. You'll object, there's nothing constant in the world, able to make a Place, besides Imaginary Space. 'Tis answered, Place is a word, signifying according to the will of the first imposers, and therefore signifies a thing as 'tis in our mind, or under Notion; wherefore, you must not require something really immovable, but which may appear such: Now, even Motion itself, if it be constantly the same, appears to have a kind of immobility; and so, 'tis sufficient that the Sun constantly rises in one part and sets in another, to determine Place, without any need of Imaginary Space. 13. You'll object again, This Definition does not agree with all things that are in Place: for it neither agrees with Angels or separated souls, which yet, 'tis clear, are in a Place; nor with the World itself; nor with Qualities▪ or parts of Substance, which are in a Place, too. We answer, 'tis clear indeed that spiritual substances are in a Place, but 'tis not clear what signifies, to be in a Place, when we speak of them: but certain 'tis, that it signifies not, to be in a Place after the manner of Bodies, which alone is, properly, to be in a Place; since Mankind, to whom belongs the imposing the name of Place, never saw spiritual substances. 'Tis as certain that, either the world is not in a Place, or, if it be, (as some endeavour to explicate,) 'tis by its parts; that is, because every part is in a Place, it may, in a kind of forced sense, be said to be in a Place. But, Forms and Qualities to be in a Place, signifies they are the Forms and Qualities of Bodies which are in a Place: Whence, all these are said to be in a Place analogically, and not in their primary signification. 14. Nor imports it, that the Vulgar think that to have no being, which is nowhere: for the Vulgar are not the composer of Sciences, as they are the imposer of Names: wherefore, we receive the signification of Names from them, but not the truth of Propositions. 15. Having determined then, that Place is something extrinsecall to the thing in it; and seeing that an extrinsecall change cannot be made without some intrinsical one, too, (since the extrinsecall denomination is not another thing, different from the intrinsical quality of the things which concur to the denomination) in every change of Place, some intrinsical Mutation must of necessity intervene: But, the change of Place is, immediately, a change of the application of the sides of the thing moved, from the sides of the Place whence it parts, to the sides of the Place whether it passes: wherefore, the Place and the Thing in it being, really, the same quantitative thing, we must say that Local Motion materially, is Division, that is, the first and, principal act of Quantity or Divisibilty; and, formally, the denomination of a new site of the Universe, as has been declared. 16. It follows, out of what has been said, that, since 'tis of the very Nature of Quantity, to have its parts extended and one out of or beyond another, 'tis impossible two Bodies should be in the same Place; for so, one, in respect to the other, should not have the Nature of Quantity: As also, if the same Body were situated in two Places; since 'twould make a double distance, it would have the force and effect of two Quantities, that is, be double itself. 17. The objections against these Positions are Theologicall, & not hard in Theology; & therefore, are to be referred thither. LESSON III. Of Time and Local Motion. 1. NOw, among Locall-Motions, 'tis evident, the Motion of the Heavens, especially of the Sun and Moon, is most notorious and common to Mankind; as also, (at least, to our apprehensions) most constant & equal: Wherefore, 'tis the fittest & best qualified for the measuring of other Motions: & so, experience teaches, that 'tis applied to this use; for the Hours, Days, Years, etc. are certain parts of the Motion of the Sun. 2. This motion therefore, as 'tis made use of for the measuring other motions, we call Time: and, comparing motion to Time, we say, one is swifter or slower than another. 3. You'll object, this is an ill Definition of Time: for, before the World was created, there was Time; and yet, no Motion of the Heavens. If the Sun, too, should stand still, Time would not, therefore, cease to pass on: Wherefore, Time is not the Motion of the Heavens. 'Tis answered, Before the creation of the World, there was no time; however we may imagine Time before the World, as we do Place out of the World: but these Opinions are ill grounded in the Fancy. And, if the Sun should stand still, 'tis plain, there would be no Days and Years, etc. that is, if it should stand still for ever; for, if it stood but for a little while, it would only make the Day longer. But, 'tis to be observed, that the Motion of the Heavens is not Time, as it is in itself, but as it is the Object of our apprehensions; whereby we form a certain quantity of Motion, which we may apply to all other Motions, and even to the Motion of the Sun itself. 4. To the question, therefore, Whether time would pass on were the Sun or Heavens immovable? 'tis answered that, abstracting from our apprehensions, it would not: but, because there would still remain in us a power of measuring other Motions, by the Motion of the Heavens which we formerly apprehended; we should measure Motions by Time passing on in its Essence, not in Existence, that is, by the Notion and Nature, not the actual Presence of Time. Time, therefore, would not, really, pass on; yet we should make use of it as if it did. 5. You'll object again, The Motion of the Heavens is divisible, as the space wherein they are moved: But Time consists of Indivisibles; for, It has no true being but the present, which is always indivisible. 'Tis answered, Time is divisible without end, just as Motion is: But, what is said, that nothing of Time is present but an instant, is false; for, we say, the present Day, Year, Age, etc. for, Time being Motion, as in our apprehensions, the Understanding can make as much of it present as it pleases, by taking a whole part after the manner of one Entity. 6. But an indivisible part of Time is never present; for, there is no such thing: the working, only, of our Understanding makes Instants, not as a part of Time, but as the end of one part and the beginning of another: Whence, we never conceit an instant In Time or Motion, but when we mean there is no more Time or Motion, An Instant, therefore, is a kind of not-being of Time: Wherefore, what's said, that nothing of Time is present but an Instant, is to be understood, that Nothing of Time is present together and at once, because its nature is Successive; nor can it have any existence, as a kind of Thing or Being, but as the variation of a divisible Thing as 'tis divisible. 7. Again; it being apparent, that some things are more easy, others harder to be divided, or (which is the same) some are more, others less divisible: if that which causes the Motion forces a less against a more divisible, the more divisible must of necessity be cut asunder, and admit in the less divisible between its parts: wherefore, a Division will be made, and consequently, if the other requisites concur, a Local Motion; for, the less divisible will change its place. If, therefore, the same less divisible be impelled, with the same force, against any thing more divisible than the former; 'twill separate it in less time, and consequently, 'twill be moved faster. 8. Now, the less divisible is called, Dense; the more, Rare: and, because Divisibility is the very nature of Quantity, the rare will have more, the dense less of Quantity: and these are the first differences that can be expected in a Quantum or Magnitude, they being made by more and less of Quantity in a quantitative Thing. 9 But, because, out of what has been said, it appears that the rare, in respect of the dense, is that which is divisible, and contrarily, the dense is the divider: by how much greater the proportion of density is in the divider, to the rarity of what is divided; by so much the division must needs be quicker, and the Motion swifter. 10. In like manner it is, too, for matter of the Figure or shape: for, one figure being apt to divide then another, (since, we see Artificers choose sharp figures to cut with) by how much the figure is more apt (supposing all other circumstances proportionable) so much swifter the Motion will be. 11. Last; because, in dense things of the same figure, the comparison of density to the figure is greater in great things, (because, in Bodies, the Solid is multiplied in a triple proportion, Euclid. El. 6. Pr. 19 El. 12. Pr. 18. but the Superficies only in a double; that is, of two similary Globes, etc. if their Diameters be as 2 to 3, their Solids will be as 8 to 27, but their Superficies only as 4 to 9) it comes to pass that, (other circumstances being supposed equal) of bodies that are alike, the greater move swifter than the less. It appears, therefore, that, in respect to the same Medium, there are three conditions in a Movable, which make the Motion swifter, viz. bigness, density and figure. 12. It follows, out of what has been said, that there can be no Motion in an instant, by an Agent of a finite power: for, the space wherein 'tis made being divisible without end; if the motion were in an instant, the Agent could move the movable through a space assigned, while the power which moves the Sun could not move that never so little a space: since, therefore, space may diminish without end, 'tis necessary the power be increased without end, and consequently, be infinite. 13. Again; since a greater power is required to move the same movable more swiftly through the same Medium; a movable cannot be transferred from a less to a greater degree of velocity, in an instant, by a finite Agent: For, since some power is requisite to give it a greater velocity, even in the same time; and the proportion of time to an instant is infinite; the power to give it such a velocity, in an instant, must be infinite. 14. Whence, 'tis evident, that every Movable which is raised from rest to motion, passes through infinite degrees of slowness, greater than that degree whereto we suppose it to be arrived. For, since every assigned degree is divisible into infinite ones which are between it and rest, nor can a finite Agent raise the Movable from any of those to an assigned degree, in an instant; much less can it transfer it from rest to an assigned degree in an instant. Consequentially to these positions, Every movable that is reduced from rest to motion, at the beginning, increases in velocity: but, since to every finite Agent, there corresponds a certain determinate degree of Effect, beyond which it has no power; when it arrives once to that degree of velocity, it will stand at it, and the Motion will increase no farther. 15. But if, to the difficulty of the Medium, there be added an Agent moving a contrary way; according to that Agents power the velocity of the former movable will be diminished, or the movable be even forced to rest, or to an opposite Motion. And thus it appears how Motions begin and end. 16. Lastly, it may be concluded, speculatively speaking, that any weight whatever may be moved an assigned space, by never so little a power: For, since the power must, of necessity, be multiplied to increase the velocity; as much as it fails in velocity, so much may be abated in the power. Assigning therefore a Bulk to be moved and a power to move it; suppose another power which may be able, in a certain time, to move this bulk such a determined space; and, by how much this later power is greater than the first assigned, somuch increase the time in which the movable should be moved through the proposed space; and because, now, the effect is so much less, it will not exceed the power assigned. 17. I said, this is speculatively true: because, when one should go about to reduce it to practice, an extremely little power could not be preserved so long time, as were necessary to the effect. LESSON IU. Of the four First Qualities. 1. OUt of what has been said, it being concluded that Rare and Dense are the first Differences, and that they by consequence, like Quantity, are varied with endless Differences; seeing, too, that there is a perpetual Tumult as it were, in the world, of heavy things descending towards the Centre of the Earth: there must, of necessity, be some degree of rare Bodies so easily divisible, that it needs nothing, but this very impulse, to separate their parts, & carry them, the nearest way to the Centre. 2. Such bodies, therefore, will spread themselves without any limits about the Earth, unless they be hindered; whence, they'll have no proper figure of their own: but when they encounter with a denser body, upon which the impulse that divides them, has not the like power; there they'll stop their division, and receive a figure from that. 3. They will, therefore, be easily terminable by others bounds, hardly by their own: But, on the contrary, Bodies, upon which the motion of gravity has not such force, will be easily terminable by their own bounds, hardly by others. Now, this, Nature and Aristotle have assigned for the notion of Dryness, that, of Moisture; wherefore, these will be dry bodies, those moist. 4. It appears, therefore, both that all bodies, that have a Consistency, are dry; and that, if there be any so rare, that, by all others, it will be repelled from the Centre, (that is, rare in the highest degree) that, too, is dry; for, its parts take not easily their ply, that is, are not spread by the falling of heavy bodies, but are carried by their own Motion: Yet, that which is dense in the highest degree will be more dry; because the rarest receives a figure partly from those without it, partly from itself. 5. But, among moist bodies, that which is rarer is moister; as more yielding to the gravity which divides it. 6. You'll object, that Dust and Fire accommodate themselves to the bounds of other bodies; and, therefore, must be moist. 'Tis answered, Dust is not one body, but many: besides, it does not so accommodate itself; since, if it lie free, a heap of Dust is full of Air, by which it is rendered so easily pliable. Fire, too, has a proper motion, and is reflected, when forced by a hard body; nor does it wholly accommodate itself, as appears in light and the flames of Furnaces. 7. Again; since, by the same motion of heavy bodies, rare ones must necessarily be pressed against dense, and dense against rare: if a very rare body be so forced against a dense, that it be constrained to make its way; since, 'tis divisible into minutest parts, and 'tis easier to make a narrow than a wide way; 'tis plain, the rare body will boar itself a world of little passages and paths, and consequently, will dissect the dense, which opposes it, into an infinity of little parts. 8. Whence, it follows, that, if there were many heterogene bodies, (that is, of a different nature) shut up in the dense body; all, now being set at liberty, by such dissection, will, by their proper motions, gather themselves to their own Parties, and be separated, every one, from those of another kind. 9 But if a dense body compress a rare one, 'twill let nothing scape out of it; but, whatever if finds, it condenses and crowds into a narrower room. 10. Dense bodies, therefore, have this nature, to gather together heterogene bodies; that is, they are cold: and Rare bodies, to gather together homogene (or bodies of the same kind,) but to disperse heterogene; that is, they are hot. For, Nature and Aristotle have given us these notions of hot and cold. 11. And among rare bodies, 'tis apparent, the rarest will be the best dividers, that is, the hottest: but, among dense bodies, those will be the coldest, which most straight besiege the rare bodies, and those are such as are most pliant to their parts; whence, they which are, in some measure, moist, too, will be the coldest. LESSON V. Of the Elements. 1. WE have deduced, therefore, out of the most simple notion of Quantity, dissected by the only differences of more and less, the Rarest body, hot, in the highest degree, and dry, but not in the highest degree; the Densest, dry, in the highest degree, and cold, but not in the highest degree; a Heavy or less rare body, moist, in the highest degree, but not so hot; lastly, a Moderately dense body, cold, in the highest degree, but temperately moist. 2. These same bodies, in as much as Motion proceeds from them to others, are active; but, in as much as they sustain the action of others, they are passive; changed, thus, in Name, not Nature. 3. This property also, of an Element, they have, that they cannot be compounded of other things, and all things else are compounded of them: they being established out of the first Differences which, of necessity, are found in others. There are, therefore, four ELEMENTS. 4. You'll object; Since Rare and Dense vary the Quantity, by the very nature of Quantity there will be infinite degrees; and, thence the number of the Elements will neither be four nor, indeed, finite. 'Tis answered; Men do not determine the kinds of things, according to the fruitfulness of Nature; but, by gross and sensible differences, according to the slowness of our Apprehension. 5. Thus, therefore, a Rare body, which makes itself and other things be seen, we call Fire: One that has not this virtue, and yet hinders not other things from making themselves seen, we call Air: A Dense body, which absolutely excludes light, we term Earth: One that partly admits it and partly repels it, we term Water. 6. Not, that wise men esteem these very bodies to be truly Elements, which we are conversant with round about us: But that, these mixed bodies obtain that name, out of the predominancy of some Element in them, which they would deserve, if, drained from all dregs, they were entirely refined into the nature of the Predominant. 7. The Elements, therefore, are Bodies distinguished, purely, by the differences of rare and dense: and they are collected into four kinds or heads, under the terms we have given them. 8. Moreover, 'tis evident, that no bounds or figures do, properly, belong to the Elements, out of their own principles, that is, precisely by their own nature: for, since they are nothing but quantitative bodies, affected with such a rarity or density; the nature of Quantity still remains, which is every where divisible and terminable, and consequently, figurable as one pleases. 9 But, whether there be not some greatest possible bulk in every one of the Elements, out of the very nature of density, depends upon Metaphysical principles. Nevertheless, out of their common operation, a Spherical figure is most agreeable to Earth and Fire. To Fire, because its nature being to diffuse itself, with the greatest celerity, out of a little matter into a great breadth, it must of necessity spread itself on all sides, that is, into a Sphere. 10. To Earth, as being the Basis & foundation, about which moist bodies diffuse themselves; and, by so doing, mould it into a Globe. 11. But, that Fire flames up like a Pyramid, proceeds from the resistance of the Air encompassing it, which 'tis forced to penetrate with a sharp point. 12. Again; since the Elements are opposed to one another, only by the differences of rare and dense: 'tis evident, their transmutation into one another is nothing else but rarefaction and condensation. 13. 'Tis plain, too, that dense things, being forced against rare, do compress them, and, if there be no way to escape, do necessarily condense them: which condensation, if it be enough both in time and degree, will, of necessity, change that which is condensed, into that Element to which such a density is proper. 14. But, a rare body compressed, if it get out, diffuses itself a main out of those straits: whence, if any dense body, that is rarifiable, stick to it, it carries it away with it, and rarefies it: 'Tis plain, therefore, that 'twill turn it into the nature of the rarer Element; if the other circumstances concur which are necessary to Action. 15. Out of all which, we may collect, that one Element cannot be changed into another, without being transferred through all the intermediate degrees: as if you should endeavour to rarify Earth into Fire; first you must raise it into Water, then into Air, and at length into Fire. 16. Lesle. 3. For, as we have demonstrated, above, Numb. 13. concerning velocity, that a Movable cannot be raised out of one into another determinate degree, but in time: so, with the same labour, the same may be made evident, concerning density; since, the nature of Quantity is equal and constant in both; and Velocity is nothing but A certain density of Motion. LESSON VI. Of Mixtion, and the second Qualities, or those which most immediately follow Mixtion. 1. SInce that part of the world, which is exposed to our knowledge, is finite; and any never-so-little bulk infinitely repeated, exceeds the greatest possible: it follows, that the singular bodies of this part are finite, and some actually the least: nay, that, according to the order of the World, bodies cannot be divided beyond a certain term. 2. There will be, therefore, in each of the Elements certain minutest parts, which are, either not at all, or very seldom, farther divisible. When, therefore, the Elements are forced one against another, the sides of the rare ones must, of necessity, become united with the sides of the dense: but, when they come to be divided again, 'tis impossible they should not leave some of those minutest parts sticking to the dense bodies. 3. For, since, in the same Quantity, the dense part is less divisible than the rare; that, too, which is compounded of rare and dense, in the same bulk, is less divisible than the rare part of the same quantity: It must needs be, therefore, that the rare Elements must stick, by their minutest parts, to the dense which they have once touched. 4. Hence, 'tis evident, that the minutest parts being rubbed off on every side, by the ouching together of divers Elements, mixed bodies must necessarily be made. For, if two dense parts touch one minutest rare; since the minutest is indivisible, there naturally emerges a Compound of the three, as hardly divisible as are the dense ones themselves. 5. Whence, we have the first Distinction of bodies: For, since the Elements are four, and may be joined together by bigger or less parts; as oft as great parts of one Element redound, the body is called by the name of that Element. 6. Thus have we several kinds of Earth: and, in this sense, all consistent things have the notion of Earth; all visible fluid things are called Waters; and there are many kinds of Airs and Fires. 7. But, when a body, that has the consistency of one Element, is full of minute parts of another; the substance of one Element gets the denomination of the other's quality: Thence proceed the degrees of temperaments, hot, cold, etc. and in one and the same kind, too, reduplicated differences of the Elements; viz. of Earth's, some are Earthy, some Watery, some Aerial, some Fiery; and so in the rest, even to the lowest species. 8. It appears, again, wherein consist those qualities, which distinguish bodies, as to their consistency. First, the notion of liquid & consistent plainly follows the nature of rare and dense: and soft is a middle between liquid and hard; but hard, being that which resists division, clearly refers to density. 9 But gross and Massive appertain to the quantity of parts: for gross is not, so, divided into minutest parts, as to be able, by its subtlety, to enter into the least pores or crannies; and Massive has no pores or passages in its body, but speaks parts constipated and thrust close together: Both of them plainly express a certain notion of Density. 10. As for Fat, and tough, and viscous or slimy, they have this common to them all, To stick where they touch: but fat, in lesser parts; viscous, in greater; tough, properly, holds its own parts together, and cleaves not so much to others. 11. They, therefore, consist of moist and dense well mixed: from moist they derive the facility to unite; from dense, the difficulty to be separated. LESSON VII. Of the manner of Mixtion, and the Passion of mixed things. 1. THese things being supposed; because there are two Active qualities, heat and cold, which are most eminent in Fire and Water: let there, first, be a mixed body of Earth, Water, and Air, upon which Fire be supposed to act: and, since there is no mixed thing so compacted, but, at least, some parts of Fire may be forced and fly away through it; and they, in their passage, are joined to the parts of Air or Water: 'tis apparent that the Fire will carry away some of them with it; whence the Compound will become more compacted and solid. 2. Again; because the parts of Fire are extremely subtle; wherever they find a resistance in the solid parts, weaker than their power of dividing, that way they'll escape, and that, not alone, but laden with watery or airy parts: so that they will leave the Water and Air to be united with Earth and between themselves, by the smallest parts that are possible. 3. Whence, two things come to pass: One, that the Whole becomes a like and equal throughout, all the Elements being mixed by most minute particles in every part: The other, that the Elements become less divisible from one another in this whole; which is, to be rendered constant and permanent body. 4. Let therebe, therefore, in another body, the natures of Fire, Aire and Earth blended together; to which let Water be added from without: and, first, you'll see all the sallies blocked up, and the Pores coagulated by virtue of the cold, so that the Air or Fire cannot easily steal out. 5. See, again, the Water with all its weight and force, pressing the nearest parts of the Compound on every side: whence, they are forced to compress and straighten themselves, and shrink into a less and less place, to make room for the water; and this, not in the surface alone, but even in the minutest parts, as far as the water can pierce; which so much the farther it can, as its parts are rendered more subtle, by the re-active power of the Air and Fire. 6. Behold, therefore, its parts being, even thus, condensed, a consistent and hardly-divisible body made; which is, to be a certain natural species of Physical mixed body. 7. Hence, again, the causes of passions are apparent: for, we see some compounds suffer from Fire a liquefaction and dissolution into minute particles; as, into Ashes and powder: others, on the contrary, grow hard: others, again, converted into Flame. 8. The reason whereof is clear: for, if the power of the Fire extends itself only so far as to dilate the humid parts which hold together the dry; it comes to pass that the humid parts become larger and more rare, and consequently, the whole itself is rendered more divisible and subject to be diffused, by its own gravity, into the best ply towards the Centre; which is, to be liquid. 9 But, if the power of the Fire be so great, as to carry away with it the humid parts; then the dense ones remain resolved into minute particles, without a medium to unite them. And these operations are effected, sometimes by the mere force of the fire itself; sometimes by means of some instruments, whereby the humid parts are either increased or decreased, according as the Artificer has occasion. 10. But, farther, if humid parts were redundant in the Compound, and Fire were so far applied, as only to restrain the excess, by exhaling those parts which were superfluous; the connection of the humid with the Earthy parts will be less dissolvable, and the proportion of the Earthy to the humid, greater; whence, the Compound grows hard. 11. Water, too, by pressing upon it, pierces and enters into the Compound it encompasses, sheir's off its lighter and drier parts, which it mingles with the whole dry body, and amplifies the humid parts: whence, it makes the body flaccid and loose, and next door to dissolution. 12. Some it utterly dissolv's; as salts: for, they are composed of certain minute parts, betwixt which Water easily enters; and, so little they are, that they swim in the water. There becomes, therefore, a kind of fluid body, thickened with little heterogenial bodies swimming in it; to which if Fire be applied, by exhaling the superfluous humid parts, it remains salt, as at first. 13. But, sometimes it happens, that something is mixed with the salt & water, which has a power of separating the watery parts from those little swimming bodies, and of pressing down & precipitating them to the bottom: for, when the supervener has aggregated to itself the parts of that humid body wherein the dissolution was made, that which was mixed with them (if it be heavier than water) descends; for, before, it was sustained by its conjunction to the water which was lighter. 14. There are bodies, too, which grow harder and are petrified by the mixture of water; either because there wanted moisture to make them coagulate, as it happens in dry or sandy bodies; or because, by the addition of the extrinsecall moisture, the superfluous humour is sucked out, in which their inward parts were dissolved and rendered flaccid; or, lastly, because the pores of the Compound being constipated without, the internal heat better dries the inward parts. 15. But, when the redundant parts are so very minute in themselves that they are easily rarifyable, they are diffused into Flame. And these parts are such as we call fat or airy, which consist of a thin moisture compacted with minutest dense parts. 16. It falls out, too, that, when the fiery parts within are many and happen upon a convenient moisture, they multiply and increase themselves without any apparent extrinsecall cause, and open themixt body itself, so that the Vessel cannot contain it, but it boils and runs over; as we see in the Must of wine and of other fruits: and this kind of action is called Fermentation. 17. Sometimes, too, it blazes out in Fire and Flame; as appears in Hay, and other dry bodies moistened and crowded together: which comes to pass, by the fiery parts of the dried bodies turning the humid parts into fire, and, at length, by their multitude and compressure, raising a flame. 18. Passion or suffering from Earth is when, either by its weight or some other pressure and hardness, a change is made; which, even by this, is understood to be a division, and, commonly, is wrought two ways: For, either the parts of one body are entirely separated, by the interposition of another body of another nature; or else, only some are joined to others of the same nature, as it happens in liquids when they are swashed up and down. 19 The first of these divisions is made several ways; by breaking, cutting, cleaving, pounding, and the like; the other, by hammering, drawing, impression, bending, compression, and the like: all which appear in themselves to be made, by the motion of hard and dense against soft and rare bodies. LESSON VIII. Of Impassibility, Destruction, and the Accidents of Mixed bodies. 1 THose bodies which are esteemed not to suffer at all, that is, no loss; as Gold, though it melt, yet consumes not; the Asbestus' stone is purified by flames and not endamaged; Hair grows not more flaccid, that is, its parts are not more loosened, with water; the Adamant is so called, because neither the hammer nor fire can master it: These have got a name, through the unskilfulness of Artificers. 2. For, the Moderns have found out how a Diamant may be resolved to dust, nay, even melted: as also, how to make Gold volatile: the Asbestus, in the very stone, both suffers from a very violent fire, and, when divided into hairs, is able to resist only a moderate one. 3. It appears, consequentially, what must necessarily follow, if fire be applied to a confirmed and established body: For, since some parts of a Compound are moister than the rest, the first efficacy of the fire will be exercised upon them; with which, if there be any fiery parts mixed, those first fly out with the fire, and are called Spirits. 4. The next are the moist and more insipid parts, and they are called Phlegm: Then, the more concocted parts, in which Earth, Fire and Water are well mixed; and they are called Oils or Sulphurs, and need a strong fire to extract them. 5. That which remains uses, by the Chemists, to be washed in water: wherein they find a more solid part, which sinks down, and this they call Salt; and a lighter part that swims a top, which they throw away as unuseful; notwithstanding, 'tis dry in the highest degree, and very efficacious to fix fluid bodies. 6. But, if a Compound of these two be throughly baked in a very strong fire, the moisture of the Salt is liquifi'd, and the other being clasped into it, and, as it were, swimming in it, so condenses it into a porous body, that it remains always pervious to fire: and such a body is called Glass or vitrifyed. 7. Whence, 'tis clear, that these bodies are in part, made, and, in part, resolved or extracted by the operation of Fire: and that they are not Elements, but Compounds, containing the nature of the whole, as appears by Experience. 8. Out of what has been said, it may be understood, what a mixed body is, viz. A body coagulated of rare and dense parts, in a determinate number, bigness, and weight. 9 And, when many such unite into one, a certain homogeneous sensible body emerges, serviceable for man's use; though it be seldom so pure, as to be unmixed with others. 10. Hence, again, it appears, that it concerns not a mixed body, of what Figure it be: since, with the same proportion of parts, it may be of any; especially, when one body is composed of many little ones. All things, therefore, receive their figure from the circumstances of their Origination. 11. For, since the same things must be produced after the same manner; and those that are divers, different ways: the variety of manners occasions the variety of figures. 12. For, that which equally dilates every way, becomes spherical; that which dilates irregularly, becomes like a Bowl; that which faints in growing longer, becomes like a Top. 13. That which cannot extend itself in length, becomes parallelly flat; that which is, in some part, defective in breadth, becomes a hexagon, a quadrate, etc. that which cannot dilate itself in breadth, becomes oblong. And thus, at large, and in general, 'tis evident, whence proceed the figures of mixed bodies. LESSON IX. Of the Motion of heavy and light bodies, and the Conditions of Acting. 1. FRom what has been said we collect, that, since the Sun either is Fire, or, at least, operates like fire, beating upon Earth, Water, and all other bodies, with its Rays; it summons out little bodies, which, sticking to its Rays, are reflected with them and moved from the Centre towards the Circumference. 2. By whose motion, all the rest must, of necessity, press towards the Earth: and because the Motion of dense bodies is so much the stronger, the denser they are; and descending bodies, the more they descend, the more they repel less descending ones; there must be, wherever the Sun has any power, a Motion of dense bodies towards the Centre and of rare towards the Circumference; as experience teaches us there is. 3. Whence, first, we see, there can no where be any pure Elements: since, at least, the Rays of the Sun and the bodies carried about with them are mingled every where. 4. We see, too, that dense bodies are heavy, and contrarily, rare are light: and that there is not any inclination requisite in bodies, towards the Centre; as is evident by the experience of Pumps, by which, with an easy motion, a great weight of water is raised; or, as when we suck a Bullet out of the barrel of a long Gun. 5. We see, moreover, that, since this tumult, of little bodies ascending and descending, swarms every where: place any body in it, it must needs be pressed upon by others every where about it; and the bodies, which are aside on't, must perpetually pierce and enter into it, if they find in it lighter bodies which they can repel from the Centre: Whence, this tumult is even within all bodies, and, by virtue of it, all bodies are mingled. 6. Whence, again, it must needs be, that the thin parts of every body consist in a kind of perpetual expiration; and consequently, that every body, more or less, operates upon and affects other bodies which approach it round about, or acts in a Sphere; as we see by experience, in hot, cold, odoriferous, poisonous bodies, and in Animals, etc. Every body, therefore, has a certain Sphere of activity, by this motion; and its action depends upon this action. 7. Again, therefore, since its action is not effected but by an emission of its own parts; 'tis plain, it cannot act upon a distant thing, but by a Medium; as also, that it suffers from that upon which it acts, if it be within that's Sphere of activity: the emanations of the one running, by lines different, from the emanations of the other. 8. Again, 'tis evident, that, since these emanations are certain minutest particles; in a denser body more will stick to its parts, because its pores are narrow and hard to pass through: wherefore, with greater labour and time, and at the cost of more little particles, a dense body receives the nature and similitude of the body acting upon it, retains more strongly, and works more vigorously than if it were rarer. 9 And, hence, the nature of intention and remission is evident; viz. because there are, within the same space, more or fewer of these particles: as also, why, in a denser body, a quality is more intended. LESSON X. Of the Motions of undulation, Projection, Reflection, and Refraction. 1. 'TIs consequential to what has been said, that Water, stirred and altered, by any violence, from its planesse and equidistance from the Centre, will not suddenly cease its motion and return to rest, though that extrinsecall force be withdrawn: For, since, by that violence, some of its parts are raised higher than they should be; 'tis manifest, that those higher parts, by the course of common causes, must press towards the Centre, and, consequently, thrust others out of their place: wherefore, the motion will continue, till every one be restored to its own proper place. 2. And, because there's no motion without a concitation and a certain degree of velocity; therefore, by the very stop of the motion, a new motion will be occasioned, but weaker and weaker still, till it quite faint away. 3. 'Tis plain, too, that the very same must, of necessity, happen in Air, if its parts be either condensed, or stirred out of their right place. 4. Again, it appears that, if it be thus with the Air, the same must be expected, too, of any weighty movable that's carried in the Air: For, since the reason, why such descend not perpendicularly, is, because the progressive motion or the causes of it are stronger than the causes of descent, at least in part; and, since the movable has, of itself, no inclination this or that way; it must needs follow the motion of the Air that's next it. But, since a dense thing moved is carried more forceably, than a rare body in which it is; the rare body itself, as it gives a beginning to that's motion, so, again, it receives an advance from that: whence it comes to pass, that both the Air and the movable continue their motion longer than the Air alone would. 5. Hence, again, it appears, that Movables (in all other respects alike) the denser they are, the longer they retain their Motion. 6. 'Tis plain, therefore, why Pendents by a third fastened above wave up and down, if they be raised from the perpendicular and then let drop: for, with their first descent, they move the Air, following it when it ascends and returning with it when it returns, but with a new and a weaker impulse: and so proceed still, till they can stir it no longer. 7. It appears likewise, that, if a Movable be violently struck against a hard resister: because the Air before it must, of necessity, yield, and that which follows it bushes it on; it will follow the Air before it, that is, 'twill be reflected from the hard Resister. 8. And this, making equal Angles, at least without any sensible difference: for since an oblique motion is resolved into two perpendiculars, which are in a certain proportion, by virtue of the moving causes, and the Angle is caused and emerges out of this proportion; it must needs be that, this proportion remaining, the Angle of the result or reflection must needs be the same with that of the impulse or incidence: as in light, where the reflection diminishes not sensibly the force; but, where the reflection notably weakens the force, the angle of reflection will be proportionably lessened. 9 But, if the Resister do but partly resist and partly admit, that which is obliquely moved will be refracted (as they call it) from the resistance towards the contrary part; that is, at the entering, towards the Perpendicular falling from the mover upon the Superficies; at the going out, from the Perpendicular; as experience, conformable to reason, witnesses. 10. You'll object, that Refraction of light and dense bodies is very different. I answer, all the Experiments I have ever heard of, conclude no such thing. 11. The cause of Restitution is, that those bodies which recover themselves again are changed from length to breadth: but, 'tis known, an extrinsecall superficies, the more equal dimensions it has, the greater Quantity 'tis capable of; whence, the more the longitude exceeds the latitude, so much the more the parts of the imprisoned body are compressed, whose motion is so much the swifter as they are the more spirituous, and so much the easilyer, too, they are dilated and rarified after they have been compressed and condensed by the circumstant causes: and this is that we call Restitution. 12. But, it ordinarily happens that, if they stand too long in bent, they recover not themselves again afterwards: because, either the condensed parts are rarified, by the expulsion of some of them; or else time has begot some stiffness, by the concretion of the parts pressed together, so that now 'tis not so easy for them to return to their former habit. 13. This doctrine is evident, to the very sight in Flesh; which, being pressed, becomes white, the Blood retiring; but when that returns, it comes to itself again and recovers its colour. But Steel, above all things, most swiftly restores itself, because it has a many extremely spirited particles imprisoned in it. LESSON XI. Of the electrical and Magnetical Attractions of hot bodies. 1. OUt of what has been said, 'tis again deduced, that, since there's a perpetual issue and sally of some parts, out of bodies abounding with intense heat; and, thereupon, a certain Orb of Steams: other little bodies must, of necessity, flow in, after the same manner, to the body itself; and consequently, there must be the same tumult about every such body; Les. 9 2. as we spoke of about the Earth. 2. Hence, we see that hot bodies naturally attract those things which are in the Air about them: Thus, we believe hot Loaves, Onions, Apples, Dogs and Cats etc. draw infection to them, that is, the pestilent vapours which fly in the Air. 3. But, seeing that Emanations strike the Air with a certain kind of agitation; those things will be easilyest moved with this agitation and brought to the body, which are most solicited by this stroke, that is, those which are most conformable to the particles that sally out. 4. To which may be added, that such parts, too, will stick faster and easier; and, when they are united, foment the natural heat of the body; which causes this motion: Thence, we see that Poisons are more easily sucked out of infected bodies, by other dried poisonous things; but, best of all, by those very bodies to whom the Poison to be sucked out is proper. 5. But, when the parts returning are any way viscous, little light heterogenial bodies stick to them, too, by reason of their gluyness, and return with them; as may be seen in electrical bodies, which little straws and dust fly to: And sometimes they rebound again, with a kind of Impetus or vehemency; whence appears, that the Steams of such like bodies are very spirited, and start out with certain impetuosities. 6. Out of these things, it appears, that there is, in a manner, a double nature of every mixed body; one, as it were, perfect and fit to be evaporated; another, as it were, imperfect and wanting more concoction; which two must, of necessity, be opposed to one another, by the differences of more and less. 7. Now, if we suppose a body so composed in its own Nature, as to be placed between two fountains, as it were, of such Steams; it must, of necessity, attain such a disposition, that, on one side, 'twill be apt to receive the one's Emanations, on the other, the other's, and to eject them, again, by the contrary sides. 8. It will, therefore, have contrary virtues in its extremities; but, in the middle, an indifferency, at least, in comparison to the Ends. 9 Again, its Emanations will be carried (against the course of other bodies, which return to their own fountains) still directly on towards their opposite fountain: and the body, too, if it hang so freely that it may more easily follow its Emanations then leave them, will itself be carried along with its Emanations. 10. But, if it cannot bear them company, and yet be placed obliquely to the fountain, and at liberty to turn itself; with the same force 'twill turn itself to the fountain. 11. Moreover, as the fountain acts upon it, so this body itself will act upon another body of the same kind; but more faintly. 12. Wherefore, since we find by experience, that a Loadstone receives virtue from the Earth, as we have explicated it; and suffers and acts thus from the Earth and upon Iron, respectively; and besides, the searchers into its nature declare, that all the rest of its wonderful motions depend on these: the reason of Magnetical Attraction is evident, out of what has been said. LESSON XII. Of the generation of more compounded Bodies, and Plants. 1. Lesle. 6. n. 4. 1. 'TIs plain, out of what has been explicated above, that, not only the Elements are blended together to compound a singly-mixed body; but also many mixed bodies are united into one more-compounded body: For, since, by the power of their gravity, moist bodies (which we call Waters) run down from higher to lower places, and, by their running, press the bodies they meet, loos'ning partly their little particles in passing by, and partly tearing them off along with them; the Water becomes thickened and full of dregs, with many minutest bodies of divers natures. 2. This Water if it rest in any cavity of the Earth, those little bodies sink down in it; and, whether by heat evaporating the humid parts of the water, or by cold binding them together, they coagulate, by their clamminess, into one body appearing homogeneous through the littleness of its parts: which, being imperceptible, are so equally mixed in every the least sensible bulk, that they show every where throughout the same uniform nature. And, this is the most simple generation of demixed bodies. 3. And these bodies, by the fresh access of more water, are increased; more of the like matter being added to them by approximation or juxtaposition, as they term it in the Schools. 4. But, if some such thing happen to coagulate, after the foresaid manner, in some concavity not far from the superficies of the Earth; of so tender a substance and with so much heat, that it should ferment within itself: it must, of necessity, suck into its very body any moisture about it, and dilate and concoct it. 5. Wherefore, such a body must needs be increased, out of a certain intrinsical virtue, and with a kind of equality in all its parts, after that manner as they call by intrasumption or receiving in: and so Tartufoli, Potatoes, etc. grow under ground, without shooting any part of themselves above the Earth. 6. But, if the heat overcome, and be able, by increasing it, to thrust out into the Air, too, some little particles of this body; which must be of the more subtle ones, that is, the best mixed of hot and moist: this body will have heterogenial parts, growing together and subservient to one another; and becomes a manifest Plant, having a root within the Earth, and a blade or a stalk above ground. LESSON XIII. Of the more universal parts of Plants. 1. 'TIs evident, again, that a Plant, being exposed to the Sun and wind, becomes harder and drier, at least, as to its exterior parts: whence, it comes to pass, that the Moisture drawn up out of the root, either by the power of the Sun or its own natural heat, more and gentlyer irrigates and waters its inward parts. 2. Whence proceeds, commonly, a threefold difference in the substance of a Plant: for, the outermost part is hard and called the Bark; the innermost is soft, as being that which is last dried, and is called the Marrow or Pith; lastly, the middle is the very substance of the Plant. 3. But, when Moisture flows in greater abundance out of the root, then can be raised up perpendicularly, which is the hardest course of all; it breaks out at the sides, splitting the bark of the Plant, and makes itself a kind of new trunk of the same nature with the former, which we call a Bough, or Branch. 4. But, since the Plant receives a heat' variously tempered with moisture, by the Sun: 'tis plain, when the moisture is best digested, it must necessarily break out into certain Buttons or Nuts; which are concocted by degrees and, from their original hardness, grow softer by the flowing in of more subtle moisture, and participate in another degree, the same differences which are in the Stock, to wit, a Skin, Flesh, as it were, and Marrow. 5. Only, because some parts of the juice are too earthy and, therefore, grow hard; these commonly coagulate between the Flesh and the Marrow, the Sun drawing out their moisture to the exterior parts. 6. These Buttons, being found in the more perfect Plants, use to be called Fruits; and that which has the place of the Marrow in them is the Seed of the Tree. 7. It appears, again, that, since the temperaments of heat and moisture are varied without end; there must be, too, infinite other things, as it were, accidental to Plants, besides what we have mentioned. 8. Whence, we see upon some Berries, upon others Thorns, upon some joints, upon others other things growing; according to the divers natures of the particulars that concur to the breeding them. 9 Leaves are, universally, common to almost all; and are nothing but little distinct sprigs, the distances between which are filled up & distended with the same-natured moisture: for, 'tis evident, the substance of wood and almost of every Plant consists of certain thirds, as it were, compacted together; as appears plainly, in the rending them asunder. Moreover, if, before they stick well together, a more abundant moisture flows in; it distends these fibres, and, while the leaves are yet straightened and shut up, makes them enwrap one another as it were, cylindrically, like a bark. 10. When they peep into the Air, by little and little, the fibres grow stiff and straight and stretched farther out, and the leaf unfolds itself; becoming, according to the order of the fibres, broader one way, longer in the middle, and, as it declines from the middle, the figure still abates in longitude: they are split, where the fibres do not join together: to conclude, from them and the moisture which connects them, the leaves receive their figure. 11. It appears, again, that Flowers are a kind of leaves; but of the more spirited and oily parts: therefore, they are light, odoriferous, and short-lived, and, in Trees, they are the forewarners of the Fruit. LESSON XIV. Of the Accidents of Plants. 1. OUt of the figure of the parts, the figure of the whole Plant is fitted and proportioned. The Trunk, which is the principal part, most commonly grows up like a Cylinder, or rather like a Cone, because upwards still it grows smaller, and abates in latitude. 2. When it deviates from this figure, the reason may be easily collected out of the figure of the root or seed. Those which have a weak stock or Trunk do not grow erect, but either run upon the ground, or else are raised up and sustained by others, and get a spiral figure, like the winding about a Cylinder. 3. For, the natural motion of Plants being upwards, by force of the heat and sting out of the Earth; and the Trunk, by reason of its weakness, not being able to bear much: it bows towards the Earth, and strives to rise again as much as 'tis able; & so imitates the figure of a serpent creeping. But, if the stem cling to some prop that may help it upwards; it elevates itself, not directly, or in a strait line, but, as well as it can, winding round about the sides on't. 4. Again; because we see there's both a kind of annual and diurnal, as it were, flux and reflux of heat from the Sun: some Plants are but of a day's life; as certain Flowers, which, the same day, blow and wither. 5. Very many last not above a year; and then are repaired again, either by shedding their seed, or by the reviving of their fountain, the root; or else by the very temperature of the soil. Others of a more constant substance, do not only sustain themselves, but increase for many years. Others, again, even outlast Ages. 6. All have the same reason of their life and death: their life and increase consists in a due proportion of moisture with heat; where this fails, they faint and consume away. 7. A Plant dies, either because the Sun, sucking the moisture out of the upper parts of the Earth, has not left wherewith to moisten the root: or, because too much moisture overflowing the root without a proportionable heat, has too much dissolved and diffused the virtue of it; so that the Sun supervening has extracted its very radical heat, before it could increase and supply itself: 8. Or else, because, by little and little, earthy and feculent parts, cleaving to the root, have obstructed the passage of the moisture to the inward parts of it: And this way of death, because it follows out of the very action of life, seems more properly to bear the denomination of old Age and a natural way to death. 9 Out of the same principles, 'tis apparent, why several parts of the same Plant produce such contrary effects: For, since, in the nourishing of the Plant there is a kind of perpetual streining and separating of the parts of the Aliment, most of the parts of the same nature must, of necessity, run together to one and the same place and part: Whence, the several parts of the plant are composed of heterogenial particles of the nutritive moisture; yet, more or less sated, too, with the temper and seasoning imbibed in the root: Thus, therefore, 'tis consonant to reason, that a Plant should be composed of contraries and things that have contrary virtues. 10. The same way we come to understand the Sympathy and Antipathy which is found in divers Plants: for, since 'tis certain that every Plant, to its measure, has a certain Orb of vapours always encompassing it, (as is evident, in some, by the fmell issuing from them,) and some Plants must needs consist of contrary natures; if the weaker happen to be planted within the Sphere of the stronger, that corrupts and kills it with the strokes of its vapours which besiege it; but, if the stronger be of a nature that is a friend to it, by the same strokes it grows more lively and fruitfuller. LESSON XV. Of the generation and augmentation of Animals. 1. ANd because, the more fervent the heat is and the moisture more figurable, (that is, in a certain proportion, neither resisting division, and yet easily consistent) the Plant is divided into so many the more members and joints: 'tis evident, if there be so much heat as to exhale fumes out of the moisture, and make it actually fluid, the little branches, through which it flows and wherein 'tis contained, will of necessity become hollow. And since, by force of the heat, the Moisture is refined into watery and oily parts, the earthy remaining still below: it comes to pass that there are found three, as it were, several, but subordinate, fountains of Moisture in the same Plant; and, from every one of these their branches, and, in them, their own proper Moistures are derived. 2. Among which, those that savour of Water are the more remote, and more fit to form the exterior parts of the Plant; and the enclosed humour is more apt for those effects which are performed by rarefaction and condensation. 3. Those which savour of Oil are fitter for Augmentation; as being of a kind of middle nature, and conformable to all the parts. Lastly, the Earthy, for the Conservation of the whole Plant in a due temperament, by the mixture of heat; which the more solid parts are more susceptible of and longer hold. 4. Again, because the watery parts are very thin and, as it were, in a middle between Water and Aire, in those long and narrow channels; 'tis clear that they are both extremely passive of every impression from without, and transmit it to their fountain or head. 5. And, because their head has a connection with the principal fountain; for the most part, the same passion will pass on even to that: in which, the heat being very acute and sprightly, and, consequently, capable of sudden motion; a change in the Plant, proportionable to its nature, will necessarily follow the impression made upon it. 6. This Plant, therefore, will have these two qualities: to be stirred up, as it were, and irritated with all occurrences from without; and this very principle or head thus irritated, will have power to move any part of the Plant out of its present site into another, according to the manner and measure of the irritation. 7. Which two, making up that whereby we distinguish living Creatures from such as have no life, namely this, that, upon all occurrences from without, they can move themselves; 'tis evident, that the name of an Animal or living Creature agrees to this Plant: We have, therefore, an Animal, consisting of three principles, a Heart, a Liver and Brain; watered with three rivers, of the Vital and Animal spirits and the Blood; by the three various Channels of the Arteries, Veins and Nerves. 8. But, because all things are increased by the same things whereof they are made; and all mixed bodies are composed of the Elements; 'tis clear, that Animals may be increased by all bodies, so that they be furnished with fit instruments to make the necessary transmutations. 9 But, some bodies are of a harder transmutation, others of an easier: wherefore, bodies ought to be chosen fit for the food of the Animal; and those that are chosen should again be resolved into parts, that the best may be taken and the worse rejected; and this, as oft as is necessary, that is, till such are chosen as, by mere concoction and mixing with the humours of the Animal, may be reduced into a substance like it. Now, whilst the fibres are distended with this moisture, both they are strengthened by it and the spaces between them are filled up: and, thus, the Animal becomes bigger. 10. And, because this is brought about by concoction; those bodies which have not yet arrived to the degree of the Animal, must needs be the most connatural Aliment. LESSON XVI. Of the Motion of the Heart, and some consequents of it. 1. AGain, because the Heart has heat and moisture in it, and moisture boils with heat, and is turned into fumes; 'tis manifest, the same moisture does not remain constantly in the heart, but, being resolved by the heat, is cast out by the motion of the Heart, swagging down and shutting itself with its own weight, till 'tis opened again and swelled with other moisture flowing into it. 2. There is, therefore, a continual flux of moisture through the heart; which, heated in it and then cast out to be dispersed through the Animal, conserv's it in a due temperament of heat. 3. Out of what has been said, may be understood, what a Disease and the Cure of it is: for, when any part is indisposed, so that unwholesome vapours fume out of it, they, mixed with the blood, overrun and discompose, as much as they can, the whole body and the very Heart itself. 4. And, according as these vapours do more frequently rise to such a bulk, that they are able vehemently to assail the whole Animal; so much the frequenter are the Fits of the Disease. And thus, some are continual, and others have intermissions; some every other day, some tertians, some quotidians, etc. 5. And the true nature and Method of Curing is, To seek out the part originally illaffected, and apply remedies to that. 6. Thus, too, it appears, how Physic expels one certain determinate humour out of the whole body: for a Drug, etc. being concocted in the Ventricle, which has a power of dissolving and rendering fluid a certain humour of the body, its virtue is diffused through all the Veins by the fore-explicated Motion of the Heart; whence, it comes to pass that, being provoked to stool, that humour rather and more than any others follows out of all the members; or, if the Physic be diaphoretical, that will sweat out more than any of the rest. 7. Lastly, 'tis clear, since an Animal is a Plant; by the highest concoction, a Seed or compendium of its nature may be framed in it as well as in Plants: which, duly ejected into a congruous ambient body, may spring up into a new Animal. 8. Now, this seed coagulates first into a Heart, then into a Brain, and at length into a Liver: out of every one of which their own proper little Channels spring; as is observed by those that pry artificially into these things. LESSON XVII. Of the progressive Motion of Animals. 1. OUt of what has been said, it may evidently be concluded that, since the Heart is moved naturally and, by its motion, presses out a fumy humour, which they use to call the Spirit, into the Channels connected with itself and into the bodies joined to it: and the Flesh is fibrous, viz. certain parts constipated together of a world of minutest fibres sticking to one another: and since, if a connatural moisture, especially being warm, get into such a body, it makes it swell and, of thin, become thicker, of long, shorter: It comes to pass that the Members, whether consisting of such fibres or knit together by them, attain some kind of local Motion, by that irrigation from the Heart. 2. Again, the Channels, especially if they are extremely little, will swell, too, and become shorter. 3. Since, therefore, 'tis apparent, that there flow abundance of Spirits from the Heart to the Brain; and again, that, from the Brain through the whole body, mostsubtilly-hollow nerves are extended to all the members, and lose themselves by their dispersion, as it were, in the Muscles: 'Tis plain, the Muscles will swell with these spirits, as oft as the Heart overflows; and consequently, become shorter, and the parts adhering to them be drawn backwards to the head of the Muscles; and, which clearly follows, all the extremities of the body be moved, from the motion of the Heart, according to what is convenient to its nature. 4. It follows, too, how certain other members, which have no Nerves but only fibres, have motions of their own; which consist almost in nothing else but in contraction and dilatation: For, the fibres being made shorter by their irrigation, they draw the body with them into that figure which follows out of their contraction; which, when the fibres are transversed, is dilatation, when other ways set, contraction. 5. Again, hence appears how the progressive motion of an Animal is effected: For, an Animal which is moved by walking, whilst it stands still, has the Centre of its gravity set directly to the Centre; but, when it sets a foot any way, it inclines the centre of its gravity, and consequently its whole body, that way; till, transferring the other foot, it sets it down too: and this often repeated is walking. 6. But, one that leaps, when he has contracted the superior or foreparts to the inferior or hinder-parts; suddenly pouring out spirits through convenient Nerves, he thrusts the foreparts forwards, with such a force that the hinder-parts follow them. 7. Something like this is the creeping of feetlesse Creatures: for, fixing their breast or some other part, they bow their backbone or that which serves in stead of it, and so draw the hinder to the foreparts; then, fixing some of their hinder-parts to the Earth, they advance their foreparts, by straightening again their back. 8. Swimming is made out of leaping: for, it being effected by the Instrument's first being crook'ned and then straightened again; by the resisting Water the body is pushed forward: and, the same happens in flying. 9 Now, the body being heavier than the Medium in a certain proportion, and consequently, obliged to spend a certain time in descending; and the adventitious Motion making the Medium strain with more vehemence against that motion of the body downwards, or according to the centre of its gravity: 'tis plain, such a body will not sink. LESSON XVIII. Of the five senses of Animals. 1. OUt of what has been said, it appears, that there are certain Channels spread through the whole body of an Animal, full of a kind of airy humour; and that they are long and narrow: whence, the least impression made in any extremity of the body must needs, in a moment, run to their fountain, the Brain; and, thence descend to the Heart. These channels, therefore, being any way obstructed, the Animal is sensible of nothing without. 2. And, since bodies that make impression, either do it by their immediate selves, or else by the mediation of some other body; and, those that act by their immediate selves, either do it in their proper bulk, or broken into parts, or by natural emissions; and those bodies, by the mediation whereof universally one body acts upon another, are either Air, or Fire, or light which we see every body bandies against another: It follows, that an Animal, if it be perfect, may be affected these five ways by the things about it. 3. And, because 'tis evident that these five ways are distinct; the Animal, too, itself will have five distinct dispositions, by which it will be apt to receive these five impressions; to choose the things that are congruous and refuse those that are noxious, both in its food and other things belonging to its conservation. 4. Again, because these impressions are different; 'tis fit the Organs that are to receive them be placed in several parts of the Animal: Animals, therefore, have five Senses. 5. 'Tis apparent, too, that the Senses are nothing but certain different degrees of Touches: For, the parts of the same body must needs make only a more subtle stroke, of the same nature with the stroke of the whole. 6. And, hence, we distinguish the differences of Tastes; so, as, that one pricks, another cutts, another brushes, another smooth's: the differences of Smells, too, are akin to Tastes. 7. But, the differences of Sounds are the same with those of Motions; distinguished by swiftness and slowness, by bigness and smallness, Lastly, 'tis evident, that Fire or Light make strokes too, by its Activity upon other bodies. 8. It appears, farther, of what nature the Senses must be, and where situated. For, the Touch, being to receive the excess of those qualities whereof the body of the Animal consists, requires nothing but a middling kind of Moisture, or the natural quality of that vapour which fills the Channels; and therefore, like them, 'tis diffused through the whole body. 9 The Taste, because it requires a Moistness which may dissolve the minutest parts, needs an abundance of Moisture, and a site where the food may be dissected. The Smell, by which Air chiefly enters into the body, requires a site and Organ where the vapours may stick, that, being constipated together, they may act the more powerfully. 10. The Hearing and Sight require a situation near the Brain; in an eminent place, where Motion and Light may come to them more pure; and Organs, which may multiply Light by refraction and Motion by reflection. 11. Nor is it less evident, that the Sensation is perfected in that part of the Organ, where chiefly resides that virtue for which the Sense was made; that is, to transfer to the Brain the action of a body without: If the black of the Eye, the hammer of the Ear, the pulp of the Nose do this; the Sensation also must be placed in them. 12. It appears, too, why the Senses are believed to consist in a kind of Spirituality and abstraction from matter: For, since they are ordained by nature, only that the Animal may be moved; the stroke of sensible things is so thin and subtle, that it changes not the quality of the Organ sensibly, and, therefore, 'tis not believed to be material. 13. And, hence, too, the Sensible object is commonly believed to be in the Sense, not as something of the same nature or contrary to it, but purely as another thing; by which mistake, Sensation is thought to be a kind of knowledge. LESSON XIX. Of the Objects of the Senses. 1. LAstly, it appears, wherein consists the being Objects of Sense: for, Touchable things, 'tis plain, are the first Qualities, or those which are immediately derived from them: Tastable things, conformable to nature, are Sweets; and must necessarily consist, as the nature itself does, in a moderate heat and moisture, or, of the degree proper to the Animal. 2. From this temper, other Savours incline, too much, towards cold and heat, or moisture and dryness: as salt, sharp and bitter things taste too much of heat; restringent, crabbed, of cold; sour, bitter and sharp, of dryness; insipid, of moisture. Proportioned to this is the account of Smells. 3. Sounding things are dry and trembling, which are easily waved up and down: but, soft things hinder Sound. 4. Since Colours strike the Eye, their nature must consist in a virtue to reflect Light; that is, in a density & constipation of parts, and in having a many-cornered figure: And these commonly favour of cold and dryness; and their opposites, of moisture and heat. 5. Lastly, Light itself (and dilated flame, if we'll suppose it repelled from the Object to the Eyes, must necessarily do the same as Light) will represent the figure of a thing by intershadowed strokes upon the Organ, and strike, more or less, according to the nature of that which reflects it: if it pass through a triangular glass, it will receive and carry to the Eye the same varieties, that is, differences of Colours. 6. But, that light, too, does those things which are proper to fire, (viz. to dry, to burn, to be reflected, refracted, collected, dispersed, produced and extinguished,) is so clear, that it cannot be doubted but light is fire. 7. Nor imports it against this, That it seems to be moved in an instant, That it fills the whole Air, That it penetrates solid bodies, as glass, etc. for, these things seem so only, through the defect of our Senses; which perceive not its motion, nor those little spaces by which the Air is separated from the light, nor the pores of those bodies through which it passes. LESSON XX. Of Knowledge and Memory. 1. FArther, it appears, that these Motions, when they strike against the destined part of the Brain, in which knowledge is produced; though it be fatty and clammy, according to the nature of the Brain, yet are they repelled from it, because frequent new impulses charge upon the same point. 2. Those little bodies, therefore, retreat thence, carrying away with them some little particle of the Brain which sticks to them; and wander up and down in the ventricles of the brain, till they rest upon the bottom or stick to the sides. 3. Whence, being rubbed off, as it were with a brush, by the motion of the Spirits, when there's occasion; they swim again, and are brought back to that part which is the fountain of knowledge. 4. The first stroke produces Knowledge; the later, actual Memory; which, if it be made by design, is called Remembrance. 5. Again; since Motion requires that the Nerves be well filled with Spirits, and that the extrinsecall parts be strong; but Sensation needs only a clam and clear disposition of the Humour contained in those Nerves: 'tis plain, both that there may be Sensation without Motion, and Motion without Sensation. 6. It appears, too, why the Memory is set a work by the Similitude, as also by the connection of Objects: For, since, in a liquid body, things that are alike naturally gather together, and are apt to stick to one another; and, since those things which enter together and at once must necessarily attain a kind of connection, which is easily preserved in the clammy nature of the Brain; when, by any means, they are brought again to the fountain of sensation, they must needs meet there together, and in a kind of Order. 7. But, since contraries use to enter together into the internal sense, and make one another more taken notice of; 'tis plain, if Hunger provokes the Animal, 'twill remember Meat, if Thirst, Drink, if Seed, the Female. Whence, it appears, that Passion and Will stir up the Memory: as also other causes, too, which, by pouring in spirits, sweep or brush, as it were, the Brain; and for that these causes do this by accident, they are all comprehended under the name of Chance. 8. It appears, again, that they, whose brain is of a thin and hot constitution, easily apprehend, conjecture happily, opine rashly and changeably: they, whose disposition is more dry and thin, have a good Memory and remembrance too, but opine lightly and changeably. 9 They that have a temperate Brain, have the best judgement: since, they look upon many things, before they establish their Opinion; and, for the same reason, they are not changeable. 10. Lastly, since, by the strokes of Objects, some little particle is still taken off and carried away from the brain: when the same returns again, it must needs appear that we have been sensible of that before. LESSON XXI. Of Sleep and Dreams. 1. IT appears farther, that, since the Nerves must needs be distant from that part of the brain wherein Sensation is produced; it may fall out, that, the motion by the Nerves being obstructed, there may yet a Motion proceed, from some part of the brain to the knowing part: and then, some things will appear to the Animal to be, as if it had received them by its Senses, when yet it did not receive them. 2. This stopping of the Senses is called Sleep; and such apparitions, Dreams: An Animal, therefore, will sleep and dream sometimes. 3. But, because there's no necessity, that all the Senses or Nerves must be stopped at once; 'twill happen, that an Animal may partly sleep and partly wake: Whence, it comes to pass that, the Nerves of the Tongue being left unstopped, some talk in their Dreams; and, if the Nerves for hearing, too, be unstopped, that they answer to those that speak to them; or, if there be no obstruction towards the Marrow in the Backbone, they walk, too, and use their hands. 4. When, therefore, some of the Senses are at liberty, Dreams may be provoked by them: another way, by some natural disposition, which affects the heart, and makes a motion in the brain conformable to that impression: or, lastly, by much precedent thinking, objects may be stirred up and down, too, in ones Sleep. 5. But, a Man being in a manner quiet in his Sleep, he happens sometimes to judge more truly of things he sees, in his sleep, then when awake: For the Soul undisturbed, of its own nature, more clearly perceiv's the force of the Objects playing up and down before it, to discover Truth; and unperceiv'dly order them: Hence, it comes to pass, that, sometimes, we discern, in our Sleep, future or absent things, which we could not find out nor pierce into, by consideration, or discourse, when we were awake. 6. And, the same may be the case of Fools, Mad and Melancholy persons; though 'tis very rare and to be esteemed prodigious, and they have a great many falsities mixed withal: whence, neither are these apparitions to be confided in; nor is it possible there should be any Art of Divination by Dreams. LESSON XXII. Of Passions and the expression of them. 1. FArther, 'tis deducible, that, since impressions made in the Brain are conveyed, by a short and open way, to the Heart; they must, necessarily have an effect, too, in the Heart, conformable to the natures of both. 2. Since, therefore, the heart redounds with hot spirits: as we see a little drop of red wine, dropped into water, diffuses itself into the water and changes it, according to its nature; so, the impression of these little bodies will have the like effect upon the fumes of the heart. 3. Hence, again, it proceeds, that the motion of the heart, through these, becomes sometimes freer and better, sometimes worse; and that these very qualities pass into the Pulse, whence, according to the variety of Passions, the Pulse varies. 4. Again, Passions must needs differ by dilatation and constriction: for, by a conformable Object, the Spirits of the heart are made more rare, whence, the heart more freely enjoys its motion; by things disagreeable to Nature, the Spirits become more crass and heavy, and the heart is, as it were, oppressed. 5. Again; since an absent Object does not equally affect, with a present one; these motions will be more remiss in its absence then in its presence: whence, we deduce four differences of Passions; joy and Grief, for a present good or evil; Hope and Fear, for them absent. 6. Anger is, in a manner, mixed of a present evil and future good: and, 'tis the most violent of all the Passions; because, so mething that's contrary to it falling into an abundance of hot blood, produces a most swift effect; just as when something moist and cold falls into molten Metal. 7. Again, because the Spirits, flowing at that time out of the heart to the brain, retain that nature they had received in the heart; in the brain itself they gather to them those Phantasms that are conformable to them: whence, the Animal must, of necessity, be much fixed upon that thought, and not easily admit any other than such as are conformable to its Passion. 8. And, because the heart is joined to the Pericardium, and the Pericardium to the Diaphragm; and the Diaphragm is furnished with an eminent Nerve, and is movable within itself: it comes to pass, that every motion of the heart flows, by the Diaphragm, into the neighbouring parts of the body, and all the motions of them all return again, by its Nerve, to the brain; and, so, beget a sense of that grief or pleasure which the heart is affected with. Whence, too, without any external Sensation, but by thinking only, an Animal may be delighted and encouraged to action. 9 Again, because, by repeating either the strokes of Objects or very Thoughts, there grows a great multitude of Phantasms of the same thing, in the brain; and, in like manner, the heart often agitated by such like causes in a certain motion, gets an aptitude to be easily moved so: there grows, both in the brain and in the heart, a certain constancy and facility of knowing and doing; in which consists the notion of Intellectual and Moral habits, as far as they are grounded in the body. 10. Lastly, since, by the motion of the Diaphragm, the breathing is altered; and breathing, expressed out of a hollow place through a narrow passage, is apt to yield a Voice, by reason of the multiplication of its processions, occasioned by the reflection of the cavity: it comes to pass, that the Voice of Animals is altered by the variety of their Passions; and so, in grief, they express one Voice, another in hope, another in joy. LESSON XXIII. Of the communicating Affections to others. 1. FArther, it appears, that, since, all Sensations (whether of those things which affect the body from without, or those we are sensible of because one part of the body affects another,) are produced in a certain site to the Organ of Sensation, that is, in a right or the natural line of Motion, from the Entries of the Nerves to the place of Sensation: It follows, that, when we think of the same things, they must be in the very same site and posture; whence, it comes to pass, that, in Dreams, and in Distraction of mind we seem to see the very things themselves before us. 2. 'Tis apparent, therefore, they are in a fit situation for this, viz. to be pressed, by the motion made by the heart, into the same Nerves: whence it follows, that, by the thinking on any Object, the nerves are just so moved as when the Senses convey it; and consequently, the same action is apt to follow. 3. And, thus we see, Laughing and Gaping, etc. proceed from seeing others do so; as love and hatred from hear-say. 4. Hence, it comes to pass, that blearey'dnesse and other distorsions of the Members are often derived from beholding others: that contagious Diseases, too, (for which some disposition in the body prepares the way) are attracted and, as it were, sucked in, by fear: and, that other Diseases, which the retraction of a humour to some certain parts produces, are introduced by mere sight or imagination only. 5. Again, because the members of the body are connected, and the exterior depend upon the interior; these operations cannot be produced, but that, byconnection, the exterior members must some way be changed: and thus, we see, all the Passions show themselves in the countenance and actions of Animals; upon which depends the principles of Physiognomy. 6. Again; because usual Motions render the Organs apt for such motions: it comes to pass, that, in generation, the like dispositions are oft transferred to the issue, and the Offspring becomes like the Parent, both in its natural operations and those which depend upon Sensation; nay, even in some trivial things, too, as in Warts, in hookednesse of nose, and the like. 7. Moreover, since the issue in the womb derives its nourishment from the Mother, 'tis no wonder if the desires of the Mother, at that time, pass into the issue: as, if they long for wine or whatever other food or pleasure, that the issue should suck in such a disposition as to be obnoxious to the same things all their lives. 8. Again, since such longings fix a vehement resemblance of the things in the Fancy; and terror, too, or any violent passion does the same; and that image is made by Motion: 'tis no wonder that the Spirits of the Mother tremble with the same motion, even as far as to the Issue itself; and that, as light with its stroke, paints in a glass the reflected Image of a body, so this Image should, in the little tender body of an Infant, and wherever it finds matter apt to preserve it, leave an image fixed in the flesh, as it were a Mark of that desire. 9 And, because, too, the Infant is never more tender than at the first commixtion of the Father and Mother's Seeds, and women, in the conjugal act, especially some, are very passive: 'tis no wonder, if a violent apprehension of theirs, in that conjuncture, often changes the complexion of the Issue; the Female Seed receiving a kind of proper stamp, from the image which possesses the Mother's fancy. LESSON XXIV. Of the seeming-rationall Actions of Animals. 1. 'TIs plain, again, that Animals must, of necessity, operate seeming-reasonably, or like Reason: For, since the work of nature is the work of THAT REASON which framed nature; the effects of Nature must needs be the works of the same Reason, and resemble the manner of Reason's working. 2. Again; some of their operations must needs exceed those which Reason works in us: For, since they spring from a REASON which transcends ours, 'tis but consequential, that they should transcend the effects of our Reason; as appears in Generation, which we understand not how 'tis done, even when we do it; as neither could a Man tell the hours of the day as a Clock does, which yet is itself but a work of our Reason. 3. It appears, too, whence proceed the Antipathies and Sympathies of Animals: viz. partly, out of the natural disposition of contrary qualities, Lesle. 14. n. 10. as in Plants: partly, out of an apprehension of evil joined with the Object; which sometimes takes its rise in the Parents, and is transmitted to the Issue, out of the disposition of the Parents body. 4. Farther, the virtuous Actions of Animals, as those of ove of Glory, Gratitude, Generosity, etc. are nothing but such material impetuosities; which, because we feel in ourselves joined with virtue, we, therefore, believe to be just so, too, in Animals. 5. Lastly, their concatenated and orderly-proceeding actions are the effects, partly, of foregoing actions, partly, of the disposition of the circumstant bodies; as they may find by experience, whoever have the leisure to observe a Dunghill Hen: The admiration of which actions ought not to stop at the Animals, but at their Maker; who has framed such a concatenation, out of which the Effect follows after so many Causes. 6. And, thus much may suffice about Animals, in common. MAN three things raise above the Crowd: in his Internal Sense, That he can order, and rummige for, and own, & use the Instruments of Knowledge: in his Tongue and Voice, That they do not purely express his Passion, but even his Mind, too: in his Body, That he has Hands, an Instrument not fitted to any one determinate operation, but destined to a kind of universality of Acting. But, in these three, there's nothing requires a Comment. Peripatetical INSTITUTIONS. Third Book. Containing those things, which concern the WORLD and its greater Parts. LESSON I. Of the limitation, unity, and composition of the World. 1. THe WORLD we call, the Collection of all existent Bodies. That this is not infinite, 'tis evident: For, if any longitude be infinite, that very notion imports that it has infinite parts equal to one another, (paces, suppose, or feet); and consequently, from an assigned point in that line, some one foot will be, by infinite others, distant; and so a term assigned, and limits fixed at both ends, to a line which is called infinite. 2. If you answer, some one foot is infinite intermediate ones distant from an assigned point, but that foot cannot be assigned; as some one horse is necessary to ride on, yet no determinate one: 'Tis replied, indetermination and infinity are qualifications or manners of a thing in potentiâ or possibility: and so a horse is undetermined whilst he is yet but necessary, that is, in possibility, not in act. 3. Nor makes it against this, that there are infinite objects in the understanding of the Intelligences: for, admit there were, we are not sure they are there actually distinct, and not after the manner of one. 4. You'll say, Suppose Quantity to exist as great as 'tis possible, and 'twill be infinite: 'tis no contradiction, therefore, to suppose it infinite. 'Tis answered, that, since, supposing any Quantity, how big soever, yet one may always suppose a bigger; there is no Quantity so big as may exist: whence, this is an implicatory proposition, that is, such as couches contradiction in itself; as taking the manner of possibility to be the manner of act. 5. Again, 'tis evident, there's but one World: For, since there's no space, by which two worlds could be separated one from the other; and quantitative bodies joined together, even by that very conjunction, are one; all quantity whatever must, of necessity, by continuedness, conspire into one bulk. 6. Again, 'tis collected, that the World is not composed only of minute bodies, by nature indivisible: for, since an extrinsecall denomination is nothing, but the intrinsecall natures of the things out of which it rises; and, if there were only indivisibles in the world, all the intrinsecalls would remain the same; since the same things always afford the same denomination, 'twould be impossible any thing should be changed. 7. And, hence it follows, that there is still some liquid substance, wherever there's any local mutation: and therefore in Heaven itself, the Spheres cannot be so contiguous that there intervenes not some liquid and divisible substance between them. 8. Since, therefore, a whole, after 'tis divided, is no longer what it was; every divisible substance, in that very respect, is mortal. Wherefore, every movable body must needs be either corruptible itself, or joined to something that is corruptible. LESSON II. Of the Mortality and kinds of those things that are in the World. 1. 'tIs inferred, that all Corporeal nature wherever is corruptible; since all participate the same nature of Quantity: whose differences being rare and dense, and, out of their permixtion, the Elements and all mixed things being derived, the differences of all quantitative things, that is, body's, must needs be proportioned to these we see amongst us; that is, there may be Elements or mixed things differing, indeed, in temperament, but the same and entirely agreeing in the common notions. 2. Again, since the differences of mixed things, Vegetables and Animals, both from one another and among themselves, are condivided by the opposition of contradiction; that is, by this not being so much as that; as, mixed bodies are either vegetable or not vegetable, and vegetables are sensible or not sensible, etc. though we cannot tell whether all our kinds may be found in the other parts of the world; yet, certain it is, that no other kinds can be found, which may not be reduced to these amongst us. 3. 'Tis objected, Since the Notion of a body is, to be movable; bodies, to which a simple Motion is natural, must be simple: now, we find three simple motions in nature, upwards, downwards and circular: the former two of these oppose one another, and consequently, both they and the bodies, whose they are, destroy one another and are corruptible; circular motion, therefore, because it has no opposite, must be incorruptible, and so the Heavens, too, to which this motion is proper. 'Tis answered, since a body is a mover moved; and to be a Mover is a nobler Notion then to be moved; the differences of bodies are rather to be deduced from that of being Movers, then from this, that they are movable. 4. Again, 'tis false, that the subjects of simple Motions must be simple bodies: for, both all mixed things are carried upwards and downwards, and two Elements are assigned to either of these motions; and, which is most considerable, these motions agree to these bodies, by accident, not out of their natural disposition. 'Tis false, too, that the third, viz. circular, is a simple Motion: for, Aristotle himself acknowledges it to be compounded of thrusting and drawing; and 'tis manifestly carried on according to two perpendiculars at once, and at least four times reflected, and has a great difformity in the proportion of its carriage: Whence, it appears, if we were to judge from the nature of their Motions, the Heavens must needs be no simple but a most compounded body. 5. 'Tis objected, again, there would have appeared, in so long time, some change in the Heavens, if they were corruptible. 'Tis answered, there's no necessity of that; as 'tis not credible that, if one were in Heaven, he would discern the Changes we suffer: But, again, many things have appeared, as more at large shall be showed hereafter. Moreover, Light is concluded to be the same with Fire; and that our very Eyes witness to be spread every where over the visible world: but, where there is any one Element, there, Aristotle acknowledges the rest, too; and indeed, with the same Eyes, we discern an opake body reflecting the light. 6. 'Tis objected, Animals cannot live in the Moon; not Men, particularly, because, in it, there is not a variety of Earth and Waters, nor reins, nor clouds: Add to this, a most vehement heat; the Sun shining continually upon the same part for fifteen whole days together, and never receding, in latitude, above ten degrees from the part illuminated. 7. 'Tis answered, If there be a kind of grosser Air, as 'tis observed, there will, of necessity, be Water: for these gross vapours are made out of Earth, and have the nature of water before, though perhaps the Clouds are not so big as to be taken notice of. Besides, the Almains have observed something like a vast cloud in the Moon. The extreme heat is moderated, by the height of the Mountains, the lowness of the Valleys, the abundance of water and woods: as we see by experience under the Aequator, from which the Sun is at farthest about twenty three degrees distant; and, but about ten only for half the year, from the middle between the Aequator and the Tropic; yet this hinders not but those are most happy regions. LESSON III. Of the parts of the Planetary World, and especially those of the Earth. 1. THe greatest part of the world, which we have some kind of knowledge of, consists of the Sun and six great bodies illuminated by it; and some lesser ones, which are, in a manner, members cut off from the greater. 2. The bigger bodies are counted by Astronomers, Saturn, jupiter, Mars, the Earth, Mercury, Venus: which, 'tis certain, (of the rest by evident experiments, of Mars and Saturn by their parity to the rest) are opake bodies, illuminated by the Sun. 3. Mercury is believed to have appeared like a spot under the Sun. Venus appears horned like the Moon. jupiter; suffers from the Stars accompanying him and they, reciprocally, from him. The Sun alone shines of itself. 4. Moreover, since light is Fire, the fountain of light is the fountain of Fire, too. The SUN, therefore, is a vast body, consisting of Mountains and Plains which belch out fire; and, as Aetna, Lipara and Hecla are never without flames, and especially the Vulcanian Mountains of the new world, so, much less is the Sun. 5. Both the clouds of ashes (vapoured out in vast abundance) and other bodies mixed with them, which make the Spots in the Sun; and the fountains of flames, observed, sometimes more fiercely sometimes more remissely, to blaze out, witness this to be the nature of the Sun. 6. The whole body, therefore, of the Sun, or, at least, as deep as is necessary, must needs consist of some matter resembling to bitumen or Sulphur; and be intended by nature for nothing but an Esca and food of flames, serviceable to other bodies. 7. And, since we have the same Actor upon the other six Bodies, the effects, too, must needs be analogous upon an analogous' matter, as we have already proved that of all other bodies must be: amongst these, the Earth, by which we are nourished, is the best known to us. 8. This, our very senses tell us, is divided into three parts: A solid Substance, which we call Earth; a liquid but crass one, which we call Water; and aninvisible one, which we call Air. 9 The Earth is not a Loadstone: first, because it hangs not on any other; for, the Stars of the Eighth Sphere are at too great a distance, to look for any Magnetical action from them: secondly, because that virtue in it which attracts the loadstone, is not diffused through the whole body of the Earth, but rests only in the bark of it, as it were: thirdly, because, if it were a loadstone, it would join to some other body, as the loadstone does to Iron; nor would it be carried about in any place or with any Motion of its own, but proceed to join itself with that other. The parts of the Earth are Mountains, Valleys, Caverns, Plains. 10. And, since, we know, Fire will make water boil and swell, and dilate whatever other bodies are mixed with the water; we see, too, that the Earth, both within in its bowels, and in its superficies, is furnished with heat to concoct Metals and juices: as, in our bodies, when the heat abounds with moisture above the just proportion in any part, it breeds warts and wens and blisters; so, hills and mountains must, of necessity, rise out of the body of this great Mother. 11. This is evidenced both by ancient and modern Experiments, which tell us of Islands cast up in the Sea: we hear of cinders belched out of Aetna and Vesuvius; for the most part, falling upon and increasing the Mountains, but sometimes, too, raising fields into Mountains: and, hence it is, that Mountains, for the most part, engender Metals and are full of wholesome herbs, as is generally observed. 12. Hollow places, whether upon the Superficies of the Earth, which we call Valleys, or Caverns within its bowels, proceed from two proper causes: the sinking and settling of the Earth into those places, which the matter for the Mountains left vacant; and the washing away of that matter which, by rains and torrents, is carried otherwhere, especially into the Sea. Thus, the Channels of Rivers are made; thus, between vast and very high Mountains, the Channels of the Valleys are deeper: Hence, in one place, the Earth is hollowed away, in another raised. LESSON IU. Of the Sea, and its Accidents. 1. THe parts of water are Sea, Lakes, Pools, Rivers, Fountains. The Sea is but one; since, all those parts, whereof every one is called a Sea, communicate among themselves, either openly, or by hidden Channels: as, the Caspian discharges itself into the Euxine; for, otherwise, 'twould overflow with the constant tribute of such great Rivers. 2. That the Main does not overflow, is because of the amplitude and vastness of its surface: whence, it comes to pass, that as much is licked up by the Sun into clouds and winds, as is poured in by so many Rivers; as will be evident to one that shall observe how much the Sun, in one day, draws up out of a little Plash. 3. Hence proceeds its saltness: for, since the salt which flows in out of the Rivers makes not them so much as brackish; neither could they infect the sea, were it not that, the sun sucking up the lighter parts, the salt remains in the rest. 4. Moreover, the salt, which the sun must necessarily make upon the top, out of the concoction of the land-floods which fatten the Riverwater, does not sink down to the bottom; both by reason of the motion of the sea continually mingling it together; as also because, the deeper the water, the salter and heavier it is, unless some special cause interpose, as perhaps in the mouths of Rivers. 5. From the abundance of salt, the sea gets both density and gravity; moreover, that it will not extinguish flames very readily; as also, by a multiplied reflection of light, to sparkle and flame, as it were, when 'tis stirred. 6. The same, too, is no little cause of sea-sickness, (besides the very tossing, which, of itself, is a cause; as appears in those who are sick with riding in a Coach); for, the stomach, being offended with the saltness, strives to cast it up; as appears by that salt humour we oft are sensible of in colds. 7. Hence, too, comes it, that the sea is not frozen; the mixture of salt hindering the freezing wind's entrance: For, where the sea is congealed, 'tis not the sea-water, but the snow falling on it, which makes the sea seem frozen; as our Countrymen, that go Northern voyages, witness. Yet, others report that, near the shores, a sharp wind will freeze the sea in some, even hotter, Countries. 8. But, when vast Rivers flow into narrow Bays, they must needs overflow into larger seas: whence, of necessity, there must needs be a kind of perpetual flux of some seas into others; as, of the Euxine into the Propontis, of this into the Mediterranean, of the Mediterranean into the Ocean. The reason is, because the lesser sea, with the same quantity of water, is more swelled and, consequently, has a higher level of water: Again, the power of the sun drinks more out of a larger sea than out of a narrower; whence, 'tis more easily sunk low to receive the adventitious waters. 9 Out of the sea, the sun, like fire out of a boiling pot, extracts continual vapours; which, either in Rains or Winds, it disperses over all the Earth: for, all those Winds, which we feel cool from the Ocean in the Summer, though we perceive it not, yet, both their extraction makes us confess they are moist, and their density and softness, savouring a similitude of and derivation from Water. 10. The Earth, therefore, heated by the Sun, being sprinkled with these, whether in Rain or Wind, (for the Earth, being once hot, a great while retains it) dissolves itself into Vapours: and so, by little and little, they are raised to the higher parts of the Earth; where if they feel the cold of the Air without, or, by any other cause, are coagulated into bigger parts, they become Water, and by degrees, break themselves a passage through and flow down upon the lower grounds. LESSON V. Of Fountains, Rivers, and Lakes. 1. ANd, because the causes of evaporations are continual, Fountains, too, continually flow; which, joining together, make Brooks and Rivers, and, when they have watered the whole surface of the Earth, restore to the Sea the superfluous moisture, to repair again the Earth with a new distillation. 2. Let him, that thinks not the Rain-water sufficient for this, imagine the Mountains, out of their innate heat, are more pory then the rest of the Earth, and hollow, as we have said; wherein there may be receptacles of water: out of which the heat, that is every where mingled, often draws vapours, which it transmits' to the top of Mountains covered with Rocks; whence, afterwards, water starts, as it were, out of bare Rocks. 3. That this is the generation of Fountains, the stones and earth at a Fountainhead, all dewed like the cover of a boiling pot, are an argument: also, the thinness & subtlety of the vapours so raised through the Earth; & certain herbs, too, nourished by such like vapours: by observing all which, the Water-finders search for Well-springs. 4. Of Fountains, the famousest are Baths, that is, hot ones. The Author of the Demonstrative Physic, ripping up some fountains, both learned himself and convinced others, by the very course of nature and by experiments Masterly made, that cold Water, full of a salt (which he calls hermetical) with a mixture of Sulphur, will grow hot. 5. The same may be seen in watered lime; and in Tartar, with the spirit of Vitriol infused in it: The cause of all these is the same, viz. The fiery parts, fettered, as it were, in dry bodies, being set at liberty by the mixture of a liquid body, dissipate into vapours that liquor, it consisting of parts easily dissolvable. 6. Hence, it appears, why cold fountains, sometimes of the same favour, are next neighbours to hot ones, viz. because they pass not through the same salt. 7. Why some are more, some less hot, viz. either through the abundance of this salt, or through its nearness to the mouth of the Fountain. 8. The same Author evidenced the constant lastingness of the heat to proceed, from the natural reparation and recruit of the same salt; when, extracting the salt, he found the remaining mud seasoned again within three days: not by the raining of salt down out of the Air (as that Author thinks) but by the nature of the Earth's being such that, mixed with Aire, it turned into salt, or, salt was made of the moist Air and that Mud. 9 It appears, again, why some Fountains have wonderful virtues, either in benefit or prejudice of our bodies: why others convert Iron into Copper: others petrifie sticks and whatever is thrown into them: why some yield gold, others silver. 10. Namely, because, flowing through several sorts of Earth, they rub off along with them little particles and dust; so minute, sometimes, that they are not discernible from the very body of the water, and then the water is reputed to have such a virtue; sometimes they are visible, and then the water is said to carry some such thing in it. 11. Of Fountains flowing out, Brooks and Rivers are made; whose running, they say, requires the declivity of one foot in a Mile: Their reason is, because a line touching the Earth, at a Miles end, is raised nine inches; Artificers, therefore, add three inches more, that it may conveniently run; (whence, the fountains of Nilus should be almost a mile and half higher than the Port of Alexandria); but erroneously: for, when ever the water running behind is so increased, that it be able to raise itself above the water before, this rule of declivity changes. 12. Among Rivers, 'tis strange one should swim upon and, as it were, run over another; as, Titaresus upon Peneus, Boristhenes upon Hypanis: The reason is, the gravity of the one and the lightness of the other; or, they will not mix out of some other cause, as, if one of them be oily. 13. The overflowing of Rivers in Summer proceeds, either from the melting of Snow shut up in Valleys, or from an abundance of Rain, falling in a far-distant Climate, and therefore not suspected by us; as is evident, in Nilus, Niger, and some others of no name and scarce any better than Brooks. 14. Fountains, if they emerge into a hollow place of the Earth, beget a Lake: and, if this cavity happen in any elevated Superficies of the Earth, whether in a Mountain or a high Plain; it comes to pass, that sometimes great Rivers flow out of Lakes: And sometimes vast eruptions of waters, without any appearing cause; when a Lake imprisoned in the bowels of a Mountain, suddenly overflows and opens itself a way. LESSON VI. Of the Air, & those things which are done in it near the Earth. 1. THe Air is evidently divided into two parts; that which is habitable by Animals, and that above: this last has no limits we can know of; that first is contained in the Sphere of Vapours which ascend with a sensible heat out of the Earth, that is, as much as the Sun cherishes with its heat and renders fit for the life of Animals: This, therefore, is comparatively hot; the rest comparatively cold, which the Snows and cold winds about the highest Mountains testify. A third, which they use to call the Middle Region, there's none; since the place of Meteors is very uncertain, some residing near the Earth, others above the Moon. 2. Out of the Globe of Earth and Sea, by the power of the Sun, little bodies are raised up, of the minutest bulk; which, the Sun deserting them, sometimes fall down upon the Earth like drops, and are called Dew; some drop from hard by, others from a great height; for, all night long vapours descend, and the higher more slowly, both because they are higher and because every drop is less: Hence 'tis that Chemists rather choose the Dew that falls last, as also the summer Dew, these being the purest and subtlest. 3. From this Dew 'tis, that the night grows cooler towards daybreak; though the first Drops breaking and diffusing themselves, intends the same cold by the expiration of their cold parts. 4. The drops of Dew, especially the least, are perfectly round: the cause whereof is, because the water of Dew is very tender, and encompassed in and bound together with a skin, as it were, by the more viscous Air about it. 5. As we see, therefore, Bladders blown-up become round, because in that figure they are capable of most Air: so, every fluid body, when 'tis straightened, must of necessity mould itself into a round form. And, this seems the cause why Quicksilver so easily runs into little spheres: for, since the least fire will vapour it away, the least cold, too, must needs compress it. 6. Some Dews are sweeter than the rest, especially in the hotter Regions; whence, a kind of Honey may be licked from the leaves of Trees, and the Bees are believed to make their honey out of Dew; also, the Manna, in Calabria and Arabia and other hot Regions, is a kind of Dew; Cloves, too, and Nutmegs are thought to derive their sweetness from a kind of Dew which falls in the Molucco Islands: Now sweetness proceeds from a concocting and digestion of Moisture, into a certain oily softness and equability of parts. 7. Frost is congealed Dew. A Fogg or Mist, properly, is the expiration of the Earth or Water out of a certain Vent made by their native heat: For, we sensibly perceive Fogs rising out of moist Valleys, Lakes, Rivers and the Sea: they presently fill all our Horizon: then, for the most part, they rise either in the Morning or Evening, seldom when the Sun shines hot: they rise, too, in great abundance, out of some certain place. All which agree not to Vapours extracted by the Sun. 8. And, because they expire out of putrid water, they stink and beget a Cough. But, that which uses to rest upon Mountains and in Woods, especially when it reins, is another thing: for those are really Clouds, not Fogs, which either fall or are sustained by the leaves of Trees; whence, in certain Islands, we read there's no other water, than what is so gathered and distilled from Trees. Some Mists are purely watery; others have a kind of slimy muddynesse withal, derived out of the quality of that body whence they are sublimated. 9 The Nets we see in trees & hedges, as also those thrids that fly up & down sometimes, are made by the parts of the Fog growing together; or, of little bodies, too, raised up by the Sun: minutest humid bodies gluing together other minutest dry ones; that we may learn, out of these rude principles, how Silkworms and Spiders Webs and even Flesh itself is woven. LESSON VII. Of Clouds, Rain, Snow and Hail. 1. HItherto, we have kept near the Earth. But, if the Sun drives the vapours higher, they are gathered into Clouds: Now, a Cloud is a swarm or heap of minutest bodies elevated by the Sun; of such a crassitude & thickness, that, like a solid body, it either reflects or deads' the Light. 2. That 'tis no solid body, is plain; both from the tops of high Mountains, upon which it appears like a Mist, and does not much wet those that go into it; as also, from its generation, and rising up in minutest bodies. 3. And the reason is plain, why they hang above; namely, because of the littleness of their parts, as, we see, Dust thrown up stays a great while in the Air: Besides, the motion of the Air hinders their descending; wherefore, in a high wind, we fear not the Rain, which, as soon as the wind is down, presently falls. 4. Now, that which makes it fall is the forcing those little bodies into a strait place; and, therefore wind brings Rain, because it thrusts the little drops one against another and makes them bigger. 5. Besides, the wind itself is often incorporated with the Vapour and, by sticking to them, makes those particles, which before were too little, now to be big enough and fit for descending: as, when a warm wind rushes against a cold vapour, or chose: and therefore, cold winds in the Summer and warm ones in the Winter chiefly bring Rain. 6. But, because those things that are raised out of the Earth ascend, not only from the Superficies, but out of its very Bowels, too, through the pores: nay, they are expelled and thrust out from the bottom of the Sea, and the Earth under it; the Sea-water forcing whatever is dissolved in the bottom, lighter than itself, to ascend: And, because there is a perpetual vicissitude of Vapours, bandied from the Poles to the Aequator, and from the Aequator back again to the Poles; these Consequents follow: 7. That little particles are drawn up into the Air and Clouds, of all kinds of Earth, clayey, stony, nitrous, bituminous, metallic, & whatever other sorts there are: again, of all sorts of Plants, Trees, Roots, Animals: all which being hurried up and down in the Clouds from one part to another, are scattered; and, if any where they come to find a convenient receptacle and nourishment, there such things or creatures are produced. 8. But, because some are apt to be formed suddenly; (as, Frogs easily grow out of Mud; and, 'tis told by a man of credit, that a certain Chemist, in a quarter of an hour, brought certain seeds to grow): it happens sometimes, such as these, too, rain out of the Clouds. 9 So, it reigned Wheat, some years since, in the West of England, or rather, something like Wheat; and the same, I believe, those other miraculous rains are to be accounted, viz. that it reigned not blood, but a red water, something crass it may be; and not Iron, but a kind of ironish stone; so, too, not Flesh, but something like Flesh may have reigned other where: For, we are wont to call things by the names of others which they resemble, especially when something of miracle is joined with it; so greedy we are of seeming to know or have seen something more than others. 10. Snow and Hail seem to be accidents of Rain; with this difference, that snow is rain whilst 'tis yet in such little parts that it cannot descend; but Hail is it congealed, when 'tis in such drops as are apt for descending: For, that the generation of Snow is higher than that of Rain, the tops of Mountains witness, covered all the year with Snow; which they could not be, were they ever drenched with Rain. 11. And, that 'tis congealed in minutest particles, is evident, to one that considers it, both from the height of its place and the very nature of Snow; for, the flakes are not of one continued body, but, as it were, ashes or little dusts made up together: Its whiteness, too, proves it, that is, its eminent virtue of reflecting light: for, suppose a world of little spheres, smooth and extremely minute, made up together into one body as little as can be visible; and, because every one of those convex Superficies are apt to scatter light; in its proportion, from every point, that quantity must needs appear extremely white. 12. The Rind, too, witnesss it, and a kind of snowy-hail we sometimes see like Coriander Confits: for, certain minute particles of snow are easily discernible; and, if one look very curiously upon a flake of snow, one shall discern a composition without end, as it were, of distinct bodies coagulated. Lastly, the whiteness of Froth proceeds clearly from the same cause. 13. Hence, the doubts about snow are easily resolved: as, why the vapours should not rather immediately fall down in Rain, then turn into Snow; since there needs a less intense cold for Rain? For, either they are admitted to be first in the degree of Rain, before they become Snow; but descend not, because the parts are too little yet: or it must be said that Rain does not signify every moisture, but a dropping one, such as is not in so minute particles. The cause, too, of its softness is plain; for, even Diamant dust, if it be small enough, will be soft. 14. Again; why 'tis often sexangular, or rather like a Star with six rays? For, since six other equal circles just encompass and enclose a Circle; if Snow be composed of little Spheres, the first composition will have six jettings out, to which those things may stick which, in motion, are apt to touch and stop against what they encounter: Such a compound, therefore, is apt to be formed into a starlike figure. 15. The cold, if it has been very intense and dry, slacken's before Snow, because of the Snow's moisture; especially, if it come with a gentle, a South, or West-wind: as also, because a snowy cloud more compresses and straightens the Air near the Earth; whence, the Vapours which rise out of the Earth, being thrust and crowded close together, grow warmer; and thus, too, Snow, lying upon houses, makes the upper rooms warmer, by hindering both the entrance of the wind and the issuing of the vapours. In the same manner, also, it protects the Earth and Roots from the cold. 16. But, the warmness, which is felt after the fall of Snow, proceeds from the free action of the Sun, which before was restrained by a gross cloud interposed against it: as also, because the cold wherewith we were infested, whilst the cloud hung over us, lies now, as it were, subdued and imprisoned under our feet. That the falling of Snow hinders Sounds, 'tis, because it deprives the Air of its agility. 17. Hail is Rain congealed in falling: it receives a figure either from the drops, or from the wind and the collision of the drops now growing hard, or else by chance or the concurrence of accidental causes. 18. Those that discern monstrous forms and shapes in it sometimes, polish and finish up, by the help of their imagination, certain rude lines: as 'tis often seen in Stones and whatever other figures. 19 That it so soon melts, the reason is, because there remains in it more water, then of the dry vapour; the wind or congealing Air having light upon great drops: For, that this is the cause of congelation, our expecting Ice and a Rind the next day witnesses; to wit, when the wind is grown sharper by the cold of the night. LESSON VIII. Of fiery Meteors appearing in the Air. 1. Who'd expect Fire out of water? Yet we have it sometimes out of the Clouds, and even out of Rain: Nay, in a very Tempest, there stick to the Masts things, the Ancients called Castor and Pollux; a wonder familiarly seen by the Mariners. 2. But these and many such like seem rather to relish the nature of vapours that reflect light, then of Fire: for, both (Will of the wisp, or) Ignes fatui do not burn nor flame out, but only shine; as also those Dioscuri (or Castor and Pollux) have the form of a globe, which is not the figure of Fire. Again, Flames, in a thin and tenuous matter, are not long-lived; as appears in Lightning, and in a Candle, which we see sometimes blaze up, enflaming the smoke about it; but suddenly extinguish again and retire to the Wiek: The flames, too, which belch out of the Vulcanian Mountains are often but short-lived. 3. Be this therefore a sure rule; wherever the figure is determined and constant, 'tis no fiery or flaming matter: For, the way of Fire is, to brandish Pyramids upwards, with an uncertain motion; the crasser matter pressing downwards. 4. Besides, an Ignis fatuus has been found fallen down in a slippery viscous substance full of white spots: The same, too, is the matter of Falling-starres; as, both a learned man hath found it; & amongst ourselves, when any such matter is found in the Fields, the very Countrymen cry it fell from Heaven and the Stars, and, as I remember, call it the spital of the Stars. 5. Ignes fatui (or Wills of the Wisp), then, are a certain viscous substance, reflecting light in the dark, evaporated out of a fat Earth, and flying in the Air. They commonly haunt Churchyards, Privyes, and Fens; because they are begotten out of fatness: They fly about Rivers, Hedges, etc. because in those places, there's a certain flux of Air: They follow one that flies them and fly one that follows them; because the Air does so: They stay upon Military Ensigns and Spears; because such are apt to stop and tenacious of them: In the Summer and hot Regions they are more frequent; because the good concoction produces fatness. 6. Flammae lambentes (or those we call Hags) are made of Sweat or some other Vapour issuing out of the Head; a notunusuall sight amongst us when we ride by night in the Summer time: They are extinguished, like flames, by shaking the Horse Mains: But, I believe rather, 'tis only a Vapour reflecting light, but fat and sturdy, compacted about the Mains of Horses or Men's Hair. 7. Cardanus tells of a certain Carmelite, that as often as he thrust his head into his Coul, it flamed out; and that 'tis usual enough in Spain, for sparkles to fly out of woollen garments rubbed upon one's head: Nor doubt I but these are real fire such as uses to fly out of Wood, Canes, or Flints, by rubbing or striking them, for these and such like are full, both of fire, and a certain vapour which is fuel for it; whence, when many hot parts light upon a considerable part of the vapour, they scorch and kindle it; whereupon, after such a production of fire, there remains in some an offensive sent, as of burning. 8. The Hair of Horses, and Cats, as also Sugar rubbed together in the dark, are said to produce the same effect: The Eyes, too, of some are said to sparkle, viz. when they shine with spirits, and reflect the light as if they were glass. Yet doubt I not but the Eyes may, by some preternatural disposition, yield real light; it seeming evident in Cats. 9 But, that the most part of these are idle stories, I collect from this experiment, that it has seemed, even to myself sometimes, that my Chamber was all light; and I saw every thing plainly: when, notwithstanding, I have often catched myself in it, and found mine eyes shut all the while; and that my memory within, was working upon those thiings which I thought I saw: and sometimes I found that I erred, too, imagining some things to be in this or that Place, which indeed were not. 10. Falling-Stars are a certain viscid or slimy matter, raised out of the Earth in very minute parts, and coagulated in the Air; which, when, in its fall, it comes within our sight, beautifies all its way with reflected light: Yet, sometimes, it falls not downwards; but, being carried traversly by some motion of the Air, 'tis called a Gliding star, till, either being dissipated, or by some other Accident, 'tis seen no more. 11. Caprae, Trabes, Bolides, Faces, Dolia, Clypei, (as the Ancients call them), or whatever other names such Meteors may have; whether they are real fires, or only certain Clouds brighter than ordinary; neither is it deducible clearly enough out of Histories, (they relating scarce any thing save that they burn in such a figure; but that they take burning for shining 'tis very credible, even from hence, that they mention no tokens of their burning); nor have I ever met with any very curious observer treating of this subject. LESSON IX. Of truly fiery Meteors, hanging in the Air. 1. THe true fires, therefore, are Lightnings, Dragons, and those they call Fire-Drakes: For, first, they have not a clear brightness, as falling and gliding Stars have (which is almost a sure sign of reflection), but a dimmed one (from the condition of the matter) as it were with smoke, as we see in our fires; though this rule may fail on both sides, unless it be prudently applied: Again, they are short-lived: Thirdly, the ashes of Dragons are often seen, and the effects of Lightning are well known. The Nature of Fire-drakes is like that of Lightning or the blazing of Candles; so that 'tis, unquestionably, a sudden kindling of an oily vapour; and it varies its figure with every motion, as fire uses, according to the various dispositions of the combustible matter. To apprehend the Causes of these things, 2. Let us imagine the hottest days effect that upon the Earth, which, upon a Chemical matter, the most intense heat does, that, after the gentler, is applied to extract Oils, that is, the most glutinous and crass moisture: Suppose that, out of fat and soft grounds, they raise Vapours, not liquid, but compacted with a deal of dense matter, not without a vast abundance of fiery parts imprisoned in them. 3. That these Vapours can neither be elevated into a very high station, nor long sustained above: That, yet, to the proportion of the heat, they are carried higher (according to the nature of the Region and of the concurring causes) in one Climate then in another: And that, through the motion and tumult of the Clouds, these vapours meeting with one another, being of a glutinous substance, stick together and are constipated; that, being constipated, they are kindled, and, being kindled, either break out or are thrown out. 4. Again; this matter, being the heaviest of all that are elevated, will be hurried downwards, as we see in Golden-gunpowder: for the dilating of the fire makes and applies an impression of the adhering matter, that way which the matter leads: It breaks, therefore, through the Clouds, there, where 'tis easiest descending; and being, in the time of its passage, for the most part, directed obliquely, because the Cloud is thickest towards the Earth, 'tis, so, hurried to us. 5. When nothing but the flame approaches us, 'tis said to lighten: when, without Thunder and in a clear season, any lightnings appear, we say it flashes. 6. Hence, 'tis apparent enough how Thunderbolts come to be darted out of the Clouds: For, the fire in the Clouds being extreme violent, it bakes a light stone, like a Pumice or those which are made in furnaces for Metals: and that, having the fire still adhering to it, and being light of its own nature, is carried, like an iron kettle or earthen Porringer in water, and descends with violence. 7. Again; 'tis evident how Thunder is caused: For, that most sudden rarefaction of Fire cannot be made, without a most swift compression of one Cloud to another; nor this, without a mighty noise, such as we hear at the sudden extinguishing of a violent and intense fire, and at the dashing together of the waves of the Sea in a Storm. 8. From the different matter of the Lightning there happens the variety of different effects: As, when, the Purse or Scabbard being entire, the Money or the Blade is melted; it proceeds from hence, that, in the Lightning, there is the nature of those Salts, which serve to melt Metals and yet have no power upon slighter subjects: when the Wine congeals, the Vessel being broken; 'tis a sign of cold Spirits in the Lightning, by which liquid things are rendered consistent and hard things are broken; as we see by the congealing of water in a glass or earthen vessel close stopped: when water will not quench it, it has a mixture of Wildfire in it, such as we see in burning Fountains. 9 Iron is used against Lightning, because 'tis a kind of matter something akin to Lightning, and draws the volatile spirits to itself, so that it does other things no hurt: Mushrooms, too, come on the better for Tempests, because the Rain which accompanies them is warm and fat; as the fields of Aetna and Campania are rendered more fruitful by the eruptions of the Mountains, because much heat and fat matter descends withal. 10. Hence, that they call the Fiery Dragon is a certain weaker kind of Lightning: It's livid colour, and its falling without noise and slowly demonstrate a great mixture of watery exhalation in it: nor is there any thing else of singular in it worth taking notice of; for, 'tis sufficient for its shape, that it has some resemblance of a Dragon, not the express figure. LESSON X. Of the generation and nature of Winds. 1. NOw, it happens that the exhalation shut up in the Clouds is, sometimes, very lean and dry; and then, instead of Lightning, a wind is puffed out: sometimes alone, and then 'tis called Ecnephias; sometimes mixed with flame, as when a fat and lean vapour are mingled together, and then 'tis called Prester. 2. But, if it breaks out through a narrow passage, and is whirled about like water, 'tis called Typhon or a whirlwind: for it brings down with it, even to the Earth, that whirling impetus, and, being reverberated, as it were, back into the Air, hurries away, wrapped up in it, whatever it meets unable to resist it upon the Earth: All these winds are properly called Storms and stormy. 3. Some signs, by the providence of God, they send before, of their coming; as all vehement things do: which proceed hence, that, in corporeal things, a part must of necessity be made before the whole; and, in motion, the weaker must go before, the violenter must follow. 4. Hence it comes, that Animals have a kind of sense of Storms before they come. Again, because, for great things, there must precede great preparations; a change in the causes may, by diligent persons, be observed: so Mariners foresee future Storms, by the Sun, the Moon, the Clouds; and Shepherds, Herdsmen and such others, by their cattle. 5. Out of what has been said, 'tis easy to conceive the Generation of Winds: For, if a vapour or exhalation be either so dry or so scattered that it cannot coagulate into great drops, it descends in the form of dust; and, where it first finds resistance, there it begins to take a determination and make, as it were, a channel of its Motion. 6. And, that way the first parts have gone before, the later follow, (by the force of consequence, now, and the impetus of the Air) and make way for others: Thus, therefore, they run through the Horizon, till either the Sun has sucked them up again, or their Atoms have adhered to other bodies, especially moist ones, with which they are easily incorporated. 7. Hence, may be resolved the questions about winds: For, first, if the exhalation be high, it makes the Rack ride, but it comes not near the Earth: when there happen to be many exhalations of several lightnesses, the Clouds appear to ride several ways: when the causes of the exhalations hold out pertinaciously, the wind lasts longer from the same corner: when the vapours, flowing in from one corner, are more dense and abundant then from another, than the wind is more vehement on that side. 8. And this happens, either from the quality of the Earth whence they are extracted: for, out of a moist and cold ground, the vapours are densest; out of a moist and hot, most abundant; out of a dry and cold, they are still lighter; out of a dry and hot ground, they are lightest of all. 9 As also, their way is to be considered: For, they mix themselves with the vapours through which they pass, and are imbued with their qualities. Again, much is to be ascribed to the Heat which dissolves them: for, a moderate heat dissolv's those that are more subtle, a violenter those that are heavy and thick. 10. It happens, too, that the nature of the Corners from whence the wind comes, is accidentally alt'red sometims: for example, If, from the North, for the most part, come dry and fair-weather Vapours; it may well fall out that the Vapours carried by the Southwind, when they are passed us towards the North, meeting with a stronger Northwind, will be brought back to us pouring down rain; and so, from a serene corner we shall have rain, and, contrariwise, fair weather from the South. 11. Out of the same Principles, may be understood the reason of Etesiae, that is, Winds that always return at such a set season of the year: For, the original causes of the Winds being certain and determined, (among which, the melting of the Snows is the principal), which return at set times of the year; the Winds, too, unless something interpose, must needs return at the same Seasons. Such are the Northern Etesiae: These constantly blow, in Italy and all over Greece, at Midsummer; rising, as I believe, out of the Alps, not from the farthest North, since they are not felt in the intermediate Regions: And they rise out of the Earth after 'tis moistened with the Snow; for the Snows are said to melt about the end of May; whence, 'tis plain, they that blow at the middle of june cannot be raised, but out of the Earth already well watered; unless perhaps some Snows hid in the Valleys are then first sensible of the Sun's violence, or that the Sun should draw a cool breath of Air out of the Snows without melting them. 12. Such are the East-winds, which we have in England, out of Russia and Muscovia, about the end of March and beginning of April, for forty days together sometimes, upon the first dissolving of the Snow in those parts. Such are the West-winds the West of England is subject to, at the latter end of Summer and beginning of Autumn; brought to us from that part of America under the same Meridian, over a vast Sea and out of moist Regions, whence, for the most part, they are rainy. 13. It appears, out of the same Principles, why some Winds are heavy and low, others light and high: For, 'tis plain, these conditions must needs follow the quality of the Subject whence the Vapours are raised, and of the heat that raises them: For, as Chemists, with a soft fire, extract the purest and lightest Spirits, but, with a violent heat, heavy and troubled ones; so Nature, too, with a moderate & gentle heat, raises the purer & sublimer winds; but the heavier, more vehement, and lower winds it forces out with extreme heats. 14. Hence, again, 'tis plain, some are wholesome, others hurtful: since, their effects must needs follow the condition of the nature of those vapours whereof they consist. But, we must note, that some winds have very guiltlessely got an ill name: for, those that in one place are unwholesome, in another are wholesome. 15. The Sea-winds are commonly unwholesome, as bringing along with them heat and moisture, the principles of corruption: Yet, in very hot Regions they are wholesome; and sometimes in the height of Summer, because, then, they refresh; and because they are drawn up higher by the Sun, they are penetrative, without any harm. 16. 'Tis to be noted, that the winds always take the compass of the greatest Circles: because, being thrust out with violence, they take the shortest line; which, upon the superficies of a Sphere, is the Arch of the greatest Circle. LESSON XI. Of Earthquakes and their Effects. 1. BUt, because we have said, there are Caves under ground; and both our experience of Pits sunk, and many extraordinary effects demonstrate Fire & water, there, too: there must necessarily be notable effects of the vapours extracted out of the bowels of the Earth. 2. If, therefore, out of some subterraneous humidbody, vapours chance to be raised, by a subterraneous fire, too; and they prove too big for their place: 'tis manifest that, always increasing and becoming condensed, by the continual access of new vapours, they'll seek themselves a way out, according to the force they have, where there's the easiest passage. If that chance to lead into any vast underground Cave, the Earth will quake with a great impetus and groan; but nothing will appear above ground. 3. But, if the easiest issue be towards the superficies of the Earth, the vapour will burst out through it: and, if it be noxious to Beasts or Birds, 'twill bring either Death or a Disease along with it; making with the eruption either a gaping Hollow or a Mountain, according as the Earth either sinks or is sustained and, as it were, vaulted. Sometimes 'twill bury and swallow up Cities; sometimes transport vast pieces of Earth; and produce other effects, whereof we find express memorials in History. 4. The Prognostics of an Earthquake, they say, are an infection of the Fountains with a sulphurous savour; an unusual calmness of the Air and Birds; a swelling of the Sea without any apparent cause; blackish streaks under the Sun of an unusual length: all (if they are truly Prognostics, and not only Accidents, which, sometimes and not for the most part, happen) are the effects of a spirituous Vapour bursting out from the bowels of the Earth. 5. They are said to happen chiefly in the Spring and Autumn, therefore, (if the opinion be true) because the Superficies of the Earth, being warm, becomes slacker with the rain: But, I should rather believe it a chance that many should be recorded in Histories about these seasons; for, both Winter and Summer have felt their Earthquakes, and in the Torrid Zone, where they are most frequent, the differences of Spring and Autumn from the other seasons are very inconsiderable. 6. The Seashores are most subject to these motions; because the subterranious flames and fumes receive no little nourishment from the Sea; and the moisture which soaks into the Earth, renders it very fit for breeding vapours. LESSON XII. Of the Meteors of the other parts of the World; and especially of Comets. 1. THese accidents of our Orb, and its parts, which are usually called Meteors, must necessarily be found, too, in the other bodies, which, we have said, are enlightened by our Sun: And that, out of the nature of quantity and the mixture of Rare and Dense; if they have their several degrees and differences. 2. Nor in these only, but in whatever bodies besides, wherein alterations are wrought, by the operation of fire upon denser matter; for the same reasons. 3. 'Tis evident, too, that our Sun cannot warm and enlighten all those bodies that reflect light to us: for, if it were as far distant from us, as Astronomers suppose the Sphere of the Fixed stars, 'twould appear to us to be but of the sixth Magnitude; and consequently, it could not communicate to us any considerable either light or heat: how much less, in the situation where 'tis, could it reflect so far as to us a light of the first Magnitude, from any Star so far distant. 4. Add to this, that one that should collect, from the proportion of the basis of a Cone to its Axis, how much light the Sun could reflect to us from the eighth Sphere, would find it absolutely invisible. Besides, the very Air, through which the light passes, by little and little drinks up and extinguishes it: whence, in a thicker Air, it spreads itself a less way, then in a rarer; so that, in so vast a journey, 'twould be utterly deadened and not seen. 5. A Meteor of the Planets, perceptible by us, is a Comet; which its very-little Parallaxis convinces to be, sometimes, sited above the Moon. 6. That 'tis not fire, its constant figure; its Tail, not opposed to its motion but to the Sun; its lasting consistency; its matter, light and to be seen through; and lastly, its Motion, more regular than we observe in fire, largely convince: farther, that it has nothing of fire but the colour: add to this, that Fromundus, with his very eyes, discerned the Tail of that Comet in the Year 1618., to consist of the reflection of the Sun's light. 7. Be it, therefore, A vapour which partly reflects the light of the Sun, partly, drinking it in, either repels it back again to us by refraction from itself, or, letting it through, by reflection from another body: And, its forepart will be the Head, it's hinder (whether part, or something only accessnry to it) will be the Tail. 8. And since, by this generation of a Comet, any figure of its Beard, any Motion, any winding of its tail, but, for the most part, the opposition of its Tail to the Sun and the lesser light of its Tail then of its Head, may be fairly solved; this entire subject is clearly displayed. 9 Out of the same principles may be deduced, that fading Stars are Comets; but, so far off, that the secundary or refracted light of their Tail, by reason of the height, either cannot be distinguished from the body, or cannot be extended to us, because of its extreme faintness: as also that, its motion cannot be discerned. 10. Even these, therefore, witness that there are Meteors among the very fixed Stars; and those, so much the more constant and lasting as the bodies out of which they are extracted are larger. LESSON XIII. Of the Ebbing and Flowing of the Sea, and its Accidents. 1. SInce, out of what has been said, Lesson 10. it appears that the gravity of the vapours and the straightness of their issue are the cause of the violent motion of the winds; and that the heaviest vapours are extracted out of the Earth, when 'tis well moistened: It becomes evident that, where vapours are raised out of the Sea only, they are lighter; & that, if they be turned into winds, without being straightened, they will be calm ones. And, since, in the great Pacifick Sea, in the Indian & Atlantic Ocean, quite through the whole Torrid Zone, there are vast waters, &, consequently, in some measure, secure from the incursion of Shore-winds: there must needs be light vapours raised up by the Sun through all that Tract, which, the Sun retiring, must turn into winds, taking that course which the Sun's rarefaction of the air makes most easy; & this, all the year long; & consequently, there must be a continual East-wind. 2. And, because the Air naturally moves in a Circle, still yielding and flying before itself; it must needs turn again by the Shore-side, drawing along with it the Vapours it finds; yet, not so constantly as under the Aequator, because of the Shore-winds. 3. Moreover, eye-witnesses affirm, that East-winds range for 27 degrees of Latitude from the Aequator on each side; and West-winds the next ten: and, of Longitude, in the Pacifick and Indian Sea, about eleven thousand Italian miles; and, in the Ocean which leads to the new world, from the Canaries to the Bay of Mexico, about 70 degrees, that is, some four thousand more such miles: so that, if we allow the Aequator twenty one thousand miles, these winds possess, thus, almost three quarters on't. 4. Since, therefore, notwithstanding its calmness, this wind carries great ships eight miles an hour; it must of necessity drive the waters themselves, in the middle, with great violence, towards the West: whence they must needs overflow upon the shores, and return again from the shores to the middle; and, where they meet any shores, withstanding their course to the West, be reflected towards the East: as also, they must rush into all the Bays, and, after a determinate time, return again, according to the winding of the shores; the account of which time must be taken from the common Channel. 5. We have found, therefore, an apparent cause why the Sea should fill the shores with its motion towards the East and West, and empty them again, with a constant course, which we call the Ebbing and Flowing of the Sea. That this proceeds from an extrinsecall cause, & not because the water moves less, that is, slowlyer than the Earth, appears from hence, that the Ebbing and flowing is discovered, in some places not very deep, to extend not above six fathoms; all the rest of the water is calm and like a Lake: whereas, if the Ebbing & Flowing followed from the motion of the Earth, it must always be moved ununiformly from the bottom upwards; without any sensible beginning of the contest of the Waters. 6. Hence the reason may be given why the Flux proceeds from East to West & back again, in the open Sea; why no swelling should be perceivable in the Mid-sea, but only at the Shores: The reason is, because there are no marks by which we might take the height of the Sea; for 'tis found to swell there, too, if any Island occur, how far soever from any other Shore. 7. Moreover, why there should be a continual Flux of the Sea observed, towards the West; viz. because this wind in the middle of the Sea perpetually drives the waves towards the West. 8. Why, too, the Flux should be more vehement in one part then in another: viz. from the abundance of waters flowing in, and directed by other causes the same way; as, by Rivers, or the repercussion of the Shore's beating the greatest part of the flood together against some one shore. 9 Also, why there should be six hours' Flood, and as many Ebb: for, since the wind proceeds from the Sun, and the Sun enforces its activity upon one part, for six hours, and remit's it as many; there must needs be the same general Periods of its effects, that is, of the Sea's Motion. 10. But, since the Moon, too, may suffice to increase the wind; and, the nearer 'tis the Sun, the more its power is conjoined with the Sun's, the farther 'tis from the Sun, the larger and stronger its force is upon the Ocean; who can doubt but the Flux must be increased twice a Month? 11. In like manner, since the Sun is twice a year in the Aequator, in which place, as just in the middle, it most vigorously raises the wind: every six months, too, the Flux must be more eminent; but especially about Autumn, because, between the Tropic of Capricorn and the Aequator, it reins mightily night and day, for three months together after the Summer Solstice. 12. But, that the Flux returns every day about an hour later still, 'tis from hence, because the Flux and reflux proceed from opposite causes; whole forces, before the victory, must needs be but equal, and, by reason of their equality, require a convenient time. Whence, allowing six hours for the flux and as many for the reflux, each must be allowed its interval; which, in the Thames, (if I well remember) is little more than a quarter of an hour: This space, therefore, thus, four times repeated, in one day, makes somewhat more than an hour. 13. Sometimes too, the winds stop the Flood; insomuch that, without a Miracle, the Flood has three times advanced and been beaten back in the Thames, by the force of an opposite wind. Lastly, it appears why, in some Seas, there's no mention of Flux; as, in the Red, the Euxine, the Meotis, the Caspian and Baltic Seas: there's the same reason for them all; that they are but little Seas, and have but narrow entrances; that, vast Rivers running into them, their superficies is higher than the Ocean's; that their current into the Ocean is so strong, that the Sea, especially the Mediterranean, whose Flux is not very high upon the Grecian Shore, is not able to repel it. LESSON XIV. Of the Motion of the Earth, and the Causes of it. 1. SInce, therefore, the upper part of the water is continually moved towards the West: (and, as, because the water in the middle runs one way, that by the Shore-side must needs run backwards; so also, because the superior water is hurried towards the West,) that which is next under it must needs be driven back to the East, and whatever so adheres to it that there is no cause of separation; that is, which will easilyer be driven towards the East then be separated from the lower water. 2. But, one part of the lower water is not separable from another, unless it either ascends into the place of that above it, which another part, supervening, prevents and hinders; or else, unless it repels that which is Easternly to it, and that again another, and, in the end, the last, the Shore that's opposed against it, which is incredible and impossible: The whole body, therefore, with the Earth adhering to it, must needs be driven towards the East, unless there be some resistance stronger than the impulse. 3. Whereof there's none in its gravity, because that motion is not contrary to the motion of gravity; and its bigness even much facilitates the motion: The Earth, therefore, will be moved in a Circle, and turn round about its own Centre, because this impulse is made in a Circle. 4. Again, because 'tis almost impossible this impulse should be equal on all sides, and cause a pure rotation about the Centre; there will, of necessity, a Progressive motion be mixed with it. 5. And since, as a body cannot be, but in one place, so neither can it move but in one line: all the motions which Astronomers assign the Earth must, of necessity, compose one line; and, if the lashing or impulse of the under-water advance the Earth in that line, 'twill be an adequate cause of the motion of the Earth. 6. Now, Astronomers teach, that the Earth, continually turning about its own Centre, runs under the Zodiac; its Axis retaining a certain inclination to the Axis of the Zodiac: wherefore, when we have found out a line, in which the Earth, being thrust on, will observe this motion; the Flux must be imagined to move the Earth according to that. 7. Astronomers prove these motions of the Earth: because, otherwise, greater motions of greater bodies must be supposed; and those, neither themselves constant, nor proportioned to the bodies, and, besides, more entangled, both in the Stars and in the Sun itself, as is apparent by its Spots: Which if you say make not up a perfect Astronomical Demonstration, that Maxim must be renounced upon which all Astronomy depends, viz. that the Phenomena (or appearances) are to be solved the best way we can. 8. Again; because there follows a variety in the fixed stars, from the diversity of the Earth's position in its Orbis Magnus; when there's once found out a Telescope, of such perfection as to be able to distinguish that variety, we may expect a Geometrical Demonstration: and because, for the same reason, there must needs be a variety of reflection from Mars and jupiter; when the laws & rules of light shall be better known, there will not want a Physical Demonstration. LESSON XV. Of the Oppositions against the Motion of the Earth and, of its effects. 1. AStronomers object, that this annual transferring of the Earth would cause a diversity of elevation in those Stars which are near the Poles, and a variety in the appearing bigness of those in the Zodiac: which, since we see not follow, neither is there any such thing as this Annual motion of the Earth. 2. 'Tis answered; The vast remoteness of the Fixed Stars renders such variations imperceptible: and, that their distance from us is sufficient to produce this effect, may be collected from the effect it has upon a Telescope; which, though it amplifies so much the Planets and even Saturn himself, yet adds nothing or an insensible matter to the Fixed Stars. 3. Out of this motion of the Earth rises, First, the reason of Night and Day: for, since, in a determinate time, 'tis roul'd about its Centre, (suppose in about 24 hours), the things that are in the Heavens must needs appear sometimes, and otherwhile disappear, to a determined place of the Earth: and, such a variety, in respect of the Sun, makes Day and Night; in respect of the other Stars, a variety not owned by any common name. 4. Again, by its motion under the Zodiac, it attains various conjunctions with the other Planets. 5. Lastly, in that it carries its Axis turning still towards the same parts of the Heavens, it comes to pass, that the part of the Earth, enlightened by the Sun, possesses sometimes greater sometimes lesser parts of the Parallels, according to which the Diurnal motion proceeds; and, consequently, that the days are longer and shorter. 6. Thence, too, is it, that the Sun becomes more perpendicular at one time then another; whence the natures of Winter and Summer are deduced, and the varieties of Declinations, Descensions and Twilights. 7. But, that the Winter is shorter than the Summer, proceeds from this, that the Motion, through the inequality of the bodies raised up in the Winter time, is swifter than in the Summer. 8. An effect, too, of the Motion of the Earth is the carrying of the water about with it; but not the Tide: First, because, if the Earth should stand still, the water would stand still withal; B. 2. Les. 10. N. 1. since, as we have said above, there's no impetus but from the gravity, and such there would be none in the present case. 9 Again, there's no cause of the unequal motion of the water; since, there's the same quality continually in the movable, and not by skips. 10. Again, if the whole water of the Sea were so moved, 'twould drown the Mountains: Lastly, the periods of the Earth's motion do not agree with those of the tide's. 11. But, that the Flux depends on an extrinsecall Agent, which impells only the Superficies of the Sea, is most evident; by the experiment of a late Diver, that discovers there's no Flux in the bottom of the Sea. LESSON XVI. Of the Motion of the Air with the Earth; and its effects. 1. OUt of what has been said, 'tis manifestly inferred, that the Air, which clings to the Earth, is roul'd, in the same manner, about or rather with the Earth: For, since, both by the nature of Quantity and the weight of its gravity, it presses towards the Earth, and sticks to and incorporates with it; it cannot, without some greater force interposing, be separated from it: Since, therefore, in it, there's no resistance against Motion, and only a resistance against being torn away from the Air next it, which takes another course; and this resistance is not greater than that against being torn off from the Air below, and perhaps not so great, (since Air is so much the lighter the higher it is); 'tis evident, it will follow the Earth: Wherefore, to the very confines of the emanations of some Star, that has a different Motion, the whole Air will be roul'd about with the Earth. 2. And, experience also proves it: for, else, the twilight vapours, Comets, and Birds above the highest Mountains would seem hurried extreme swiftly towards the West. Again, 'tis plain, those Clouds of dust, which we call the Sun's spots, fly along with the Sun; and that, the same way, (as appears, because the bright parts are burned still the same way,) notwithstanding they are judged to be a hundred miles distant from the Sun. The vapours, too, of the Moon are found to be carried about with the Moon. 3. From this Motion of the Air it follows, that bodies in the Air itself are so moved, in respect to the parts of the Air and the Earth, as if there were no Motion at all in neither; they being carried still along together with the Air itself: as, one in a Ship, under sail with a constant wind, exercises the same Motions and with the same facility in the Ship, as he could do if she stood still. 4. Wherefore, Arrows, shot just upright, will fall in the very same place; or, shot towards the East, they'll fly no farther then if shot towards the West: The Motion of the Earth will raise no wind, etc. This, too, will be certain, that the Air cannot be carried less than the Earth; as, one that sits in a Coach cannot rid less ground than the Coach itself. 5. Nor can all these be made good by an impetus, conceived upon the Earth, and remaining in the Movable after its separation from the Earth: for, neither could Birds retain that impetus for many hours together, at least, without any notable diminution; and less could little bodies, for many days: nor could that impetus carry an Arrow as swiftly across, as directly. Besides, as those that swim against the stream feel the strength of the stream under water; so, one that should move towards the West would feel the Air to be carried towards the East. 6. Much less, by the force of its circular motion, will the Earth throw any thing laid upon it into Heaven: For, circular motion has no such property in its own nature; since 'tis still about the Centre, and, by consequence, keeps every thing, according to its own line, in the same distance from the Centre: But, those things we see thrown off from wheels, are so, by reason of their adhesion, and the mixture of a strait motion with the circular; as also, because the centre of gravity of such thrown bodies is removed, from that position wherein it was sustained by the body under it. LESSON XVII. Of the causes of the Motion of the Moon and other Stars. 1. SInce, supposing this motion of the Earth, the Moon is carried with it about the Sun, and keeps always the same side towards it; 'tis fairly convinced to have a kind of adhesion to the Earth. 2. Yet, not a Magnetical one, being it changes not its aspect, nor has any declination, for its approaching the Poles; nor, though it hangs loose, does it come to the Earth: 'Tis, therefore, an adhesion of gravity. 3. And, since gravity proceeds from the Motion of things descending towards the Earth; the Moon must be situated within the Emanations of the Earth, be carried about the Centre of the Earth, and about the Sun. But, because it has a propension of its own towards the Earth, it is not carried so swiftly as the Emanations themselves; its progress being, according to Astronomical observations, but about a 28. part every day. 4. And because, under the Zodiac, there's a perpetual tumult of vapours which ascend, and being come up to a certain height, turn off from the Torrid Zone towards the Poles; the motion of the Moon is compounded of a Motion under the Ecliptic and towards the Poles. 5. It is not, therefore, carried purely under the Ecliptic: but, because 'tis moved in a Spherical Superficies, and by the shortest line, that is, by a greatest circle; it will cut the Ecliptic twice every entire course of its defects, that is, every month. 6. In its Opposition and Conjunction to the Sun, the body of the Moon, that is, the whole complex of its solid and vapours, becomes less heavy: In Conjunction, because its nearness to the Sun and the Sun's stronger reflection from the Earth raises more Vapours in the Moon: in Opposition, more vapours are raised out of its, naturally, colder part; and in the upper part there's always abundance. 7. Wherefore, the Moon, in these positions, must rise higher from the Earth, and, in the Quadratures, that is, about the passages from the first to the second and from the third to the fourth Quarters, appear bigger. But, because that part which looks towards the Earth is always the heavier, it never turns t'other side towards us. 8. Nor is there any fear lest the Moon, falling by reason of its weight, should overwhelm the Earth; both because 'tis furnished with a great deal of fire and vapours lighter than the Emanations of the Earth; as also, because very gravity itself, near the confines of the Earth's emanations, is not so powerful as 'tis here lower. 9 But farther, because 'tis hurried about two thousand miles every hour: whence, were it made of solid Iron, it could not fall down; since, we see iron Bullets sustained in the Air, by the power of Guns, though their motion be not two hundred miles an hour. 10. Out of what has been said, we may easily argue concerning the other Great Bodies. For, all those that belong to our Great Orb either are moved about the Sun, as being certain other Earth's: or else about other Stars, as the Moon about the Earth; such as are the Medicean Stars, and the Companions of Saturn. 11. And, because we discover Suns among those other parts of the world; 'tis very credible there are proportionable Planets disposed among them, too; and that all those Bodies are moved in the manner of ours. 12. The Sun itself must, of necessity, turn about its own centre: else, certainly, since 'tis Fire, 'twould appear divided into Pyramids; and, if it were born along with a progressive motion, 'twould show a vast train of flames like a Comet. 13. Lastly, since 'tis all full of Caverns belching out flames, and fire flames out according to the nature of its fuel; these flames must of necessity flash out with a fierce impulse against the sides of the Caverns: and, because they have an eminent proportion to the body, they must shake the entire Sun and turn it that way the Motion lies strongest; which, the Phenomena of its Spots and bright parts testify to be according to the Zodiac. LESSON XVIII. Of the Primum Mobile, the Duration, and Quiddity of the World. 1. BUt, because this fire, which bursts out from the Sun's bowels, is itself moved, too: either this Motion, which is the Mother of all other, must spring from itself; or else we must come to an incorporeal Agent. 2. But, that Bodies which rest, how many soever they are, cannot start of themselves into Motion, is most evident: For, being supposed to rest, all their intrinsecalls are supposed, without that effect which is called Motion: Since, therefore, all things remaining the very same in the causes, there cannot be any change in the effect; and yet, supposing Motion, there would be a change; 'tis plain, there cannot any Motion spring out of them, without altering first somewhat in the causes, that is, in the Bodies. 3. Moreover, every part of Motion being a new effect, the same evidence convinces that motion cannot be continued, without some Cause be supposed continually altering the First Body, on which depend the motions of all the rest. 4. Since, therefore, we have pursued the Original of motion into the very bowels of the Sun: we must conclude, that there is a Mover of another nature, viz. an incorporeal, from whom Fire receives the power of moving; who, being of an immovable Nature, establishes the Centre of the Sun, that it may be the Fixer and, as it were, Basis of all things rolling about it. 5. Les. 1. n. 1. That Motion cannot be infinite, the same argument convinces which made it plain before, that all Permanent Quantity is finite: For, suppose backwards from this instant or now wherein we are, an infinite Time already past, there must be infinite hours past; some one, therefore, will be infinite others distant from us; and, in that one, a determinate now, which, with this present instant, must enclose an infinite on both sides. 6. Nor, if the computation be made forwards, will the reason differ: for, there must still be infinite hours to come; and one of them will be infinite others distant from us; and, in that one, a certain now terminating an infinite, which is impossible, whereas yet, what is future is, in that very respect, possible. 7. The World, therefore, is neither from nor to eternity: because, the world includes the motion of bodies passing on in a determinate order, and, as it were, consists in this. 'Twas, therefore, created; but, not for itself: for, if it could have deserved to be made for its own beauty's sake; upon the same title, it would endure for ever. It rests, therefore, that 'twas made for something else; which cannot be successive, since the same evidence, with which we have disputed about motion, N. 5. 6. convinces that no successive thing can be eternal. The World, therefore, is made for some permanent thing: but, there's nothing permanent found in Nature, except the Rational soul, for whose sake the world could exist: Spirits, therefore, born in bodies and perfected in them, (not such as are purely abstracted from body, who have no use of corporeal instruments) are the End for which the world was made. 8. And, the world is nothing but a kind of vast womb, in which these Spirits may be begotten and brought up; which has so many Cells as there are several Races of these Spirits. Our Cell is the Earth we inhabit: the Cells of the rest are those masses of the Celestial bodies; except the Solar ones, which are the basest of all the rest, and, as far as we can guess, only ministerial. 9 The Quantity of the world, both for its Extension and Duration, is such as may fitly serve for the breeding up so many differences of Spirits: providing the Cells, according to the several kinds; and giving every Cell the bigness and duration which was sufficient for the number the Architect designed. 10. The Figure of the world is not rendered uneven, either with hollownesses or jetting out; since, the notion of Vacuum excludes both these: Wherefore, 'tis either Spherical, or of some other Curvilineall figure, which, most concisely, covers and encompasses so many and such great Cells. 11. The exterior rimme of it is not composed of any solid body, but of thinnest Vapours exhaled out of the outmost bodies: unless, perhaps, there be reserved in nature some farther use of the Outmost body, which we know not of. Peripatetical INSTITUTIONS. Fourth Book. Containing that part of METAPHYSIC, which explicates the Essential Notions of BODIES. LESSON I. Of the divisibility of Substance, into Formal parts. 1. SInce water is, B. 2. Les. 2. N. 2. manifestly, less divisible than Air; and yet they are but one, Quantitatively: if they are more than one according to their Substance, there must, of necessity, be a real composition of Quantity to Substance; since Unity and Plurality are not distinct from the thing whose they are. 2. But, if they are not two Substances; since there cannot be a different proportion of the same thing to it fells, & yet the proportion of Quantity to the Substance in Air is greater than in Water; it must needs be, again, that there's a real composition of Quantity to Substance and, therefore, a Divisibility. 3. Whence, 'tis inferred, that Substance, as 'tis condistinct from Quantity, is indivisible; since Quantity is divisibility. 4. As also, that the Notions of Rarity and Density consist in the proportion of the Quantity to the Substance whose it is: since rare bodies are more and dense less divisible. 5. You'll object, Such as are one in Quantity are one in Substance, B. 2. less. 1. N. 4. too: But, the whole world is one in Quantity; & that rigorously, since, there are no Parts actually in a Magnitude: Therefore, either Quantity is a distinct thing from Substance, or else all Bodily Substance will be but one thing, really and materially, whatever may be imagined of an Intellectual distinction between them. 6. 'tis answered, 'Tis a false assumption, to say, those things which are one in Quantity are one in their Substances, too. To that which is objected, That all things would be really and materially one; 'tis answered, Either 'tis but the same which we call to be One quantitatively, and then 'twould be showed what inconvenience would follow, that consequence being admitted: or else, that term, really and materially, would be explicated; for the Arguers seem to insinuate that it signifies, abstracting from our Notions, that is, they would be one in no kind of unity whereof we have any Notion. 7. All things, therefore, according to that unity which follows the notion of Quantity, (and that is accidental,) are one: but, according to their Substances, and that unity which follows the notion of Substance, they are many. 8. It follows, from what has been said, As oft as any division is made, the Substance itself is changed, which is subjected to the Quantity, according to the intrinsecalls of Substance, as 'tis condistinguished against Quantity: For, Division being that whereby more are made of one; and, they not being made more according to the proper unity of Quantity; this plurality must, of necessity, be in the Substance as 'tis condistinguished against Quantity; wherefore, the Unity, too, which is destroyed, was in the Substance, as condistinguished from the Quantity: since, therefore, Unity superadds nothing to Entity, but a negative notion of indivision; it comes to pass, that a change cannot be made in the unity without a change in the Entity, and consequently, that the Entity is changed. 9 But, the Entity is not so changed, that two Entities should be made out of nothing; but out of one that existed before: otherwise, there would not have been made a division. There was, therefore, a power or possibility in the Substance, to be many; as, in many, there's a possibility to be made one again. 10. The Substance, therefore, is changed, in some respect; and remains in the many, according to some part of its power: wherefore, 'tis divided according to its own proprieties; and, there is, in Substances, divisible according to Quantity, another proper divisibility, into the Power by which it can be what it is, and the Act by which it is what it is; or, into the Matter remaining and the Form changed. 11. Yet, the parts of the Substance, and the Quantity itself with the Substance against which 'tis condivided, are not actually in their compounds, before division: for, 'tis plain that, if they are in act, one of them, before division, is not another; they are, therefore, many, nor can be divided, that is, made many. 12. Out of what has been said, 'tis evident, that this Formal divisibility has not the true nature of divisibility, that is, 'tis less than the divisibility of a Magnitude into its parts: For, a Magnitude is divided into parts, whereof every one exists after the division, by their proper existences; but, one, at least of these parts exists no longer, and that which remains exists, not alone, but commonly with some other, instead of the part it has lost. LESSON II. Of the Formal parts of Substance, in particular. 1. HEnce it follows that, because a change, according to the parts of the Substance, changes the Substance itself; the parts are parts of the Substance, as it is such: wherefore, neither part is a Substance; since a part cannot be the whole: But, to be a Substance is, To have a nature capable of existence: therefore, neither part, separately, is, by its nature, capable of a Being: and, any Agent to give a Being to either part, separately, must first change its nature, that it may be capable of Being; for, to exist, cannot agree to that, in which there is not a power of receiving existence. 2. And, after the same manner, must it be said of Quantity and all other Accidents, whose notion is wholly without, and not comprehended in the notion of Substance; and consequently, their notion is less fit and apt for existence. 3. You'll say, if these things are true, it implies a contradiction that any Accident should exist out of its own Subject; the contrary whereof is a matter of Faith. 4. 'Tis answered, there's neither Authority nor Demonstration, in Theology, which convinces that an Accident may be preserved out of a Subject; as, 'tis plain, to those that look more attentively into it. 5. But, on the contrary, 'tis evident a Whole cannot be, without its Parts in potentiâ or power, therefore a Substance cannot be without Quantity, which is its parts in potentiâ; nor can a Magnitude be, without its Quantity's having a determinate proportion to its Substance, that is, without Rarity and Density; again, Rare and Dense diversely mingled, import all the rest of Corporeal Qualities: 'Tis evident, therefore, that Accidents cannot be without a Substance. 6. Farther, 'tis plain, the division of Substance is into a pure Power and a substantial Form, or, that which makes it be a Substance: For, since, by the division of a Substance into its parts, the Substance is changed; it must needs be, that the Part which is lost gives the being a Substance to the Whole, since, that being withdrawn, the notion of Substance is taken away; and that the remaining Part is a pure Power; for, since 'tis a power to the notion that's changed, and that is the first of all others, 'tis clear, in the remaining part there's no notion, and therefore, that 'tis a pure Power or possibility. 7. Whence, again, 'tis clear, there's a greater unity of the parts of a Substance, then of Substance to Quantity: since, Quantity and Substance are, intellectually, distinct; but, of the Matter and Form of compounds, there's but one only notion together. 8. You'll say, 'Tis impossible to conceive that Matter, of itself, has no notion; for, it would not be cognoscible. 'Tis answered; Since, to be capable of being something neither is, in that kind whereof 'tis capable of being, nor yet is wholly estranged from that kind: so, that which is a capacity to the first kind, that is, to Substance and Being, neither has it that first notion, and yet 'tis not altogether estranged from it; but, 'tis a certain degree to participate Being itself, by the mediation of another. 9 Now the ratio or notion in a thing is That, by which its nature is fitted to the Understanding, or the Understandablenesse of a thing, or the quiddity, the whatnesse and, consequently, that, whereby a thing is made to Be: The Form, therefore, primarily, is the Cause, or the whereby the Being is had. 10. Whence, 'tis evidenced, there cannot be more Substantial Forms, in the same Thing: nor subordinate ones; because, since the first Form gives the Being, the second must needs be adventitious to what has a Being, and not give it, but be an Accident: nor coordinate ones; since they have each their own notions and, consequently, constitute more Being's. 11. 'Tis plain, too, that the Matter has a Being through the Form, and cannot be sustained otherwise then by the Form; since, of itself, it has not a capacity to Be. LESSON III. Of the Unity and distinction of Bodies in common. 1. IT follows, from what has been said, that there is some plurality of Forms in nature, before all Division: For, since Division is made, by the interposition of one body, between the sides or parts of another, there must necessarily be, before division, a body to be the Divider and another that may be Divided; which, being they are not more than one, through any former division, (since, this is supposed to be the first,) this plurality must of necessity proceed out of the very nature and notion of the Things. 2. And, since Essence is nothing but that whereby a Thing is; such Things must be, essentially, distinct: Since, therefore, to divide belongs to dense, to be divided to rare; those things that are naturally rare and dense must be essentially distinct. 3. Since, therefore, such things are transmutable among themselves, and adequately divide the Universe; the Matter of rare and dense things must be the same, and consequently, that of the whole Universe. 4. The same is deduced out of the very notion of Matter; which, being a power to the notion of a Thing, is also a power or possibility to the notion of One: since, therefore, a Multitude consists but of Unities; before unity, neither distinction nor multitude can be understood: There can, therefore, be no multiplicity of matter; wherefore, that of all nature is but One. 5. Hence, then, those Questions are superfluous, Whether one Form can be the same in divers Matters? and again, Whether many Forms in one Matter? Since, if it be asked, of the proper unity of Matter, that of all Forms is the same; if, of the individual unity, that the matter attains by its conjunction with a Form, as it does its very Being. 6. From what has been said, 'tis clear, that every body, that is, every Compound of act and power is a Magnitude: For, since there's but one possible First matter, and that subject to Quantity; the Compounds of it, too, must of necessity be subject to Quantity. 7. Hence, again, it follows, that no body moves, unless, in some manner, it be changed first: For since a Bulk excludes another out of its place, by this, that it intrudes itself into the other's place, because two cannot be together in the same place; unless it become greater than its own place or leave it, it cannot exclude another: 'Tis manifest, therefore, that it must be altered first, according to one of these mutations, if it become a Mover of another. 8. Hence, again, 'tis collected that a Body is, essentially, an Instrument: For, since a Body has two properties, to be moved and to move; and, to be moved appertains to it, out of its power and the notion of Matter; 'tis clear, the essential notion of it is to be taken from its virtue of moving, by which it expresses act, and which follows the nature of a body in respect as it actually is: Since, therefore▪ a body does not move, but in as much as 'tis moved; clearly, according to its essential notion, 'tis an Instrument of its mover or applyer. 9 A BODY, therefore, is a Thing in Nature, or, A certain part of the Universe; provided by the Author of Nature, to produce a certain determinate Motion, when 'tis applied. 10. Whence, three notions, or manners of defining a natural Ens or Thing, are discovered: A Metaphysical one, which is deduced adequately under the notion of Being, and 'tis, A thing which has an existence spread into many potential parts, that is, a Thing in or of such parts: A Natural or Physical one, which, by Sensible Qualities, expounds the notion of those parts and, consequently, of the Thing: And lastly, a Moral one, as it were, which collects the same from the End, that is, from the quality of its Motion; for, the Metaphysical notion, properly, regards only its capacity of Existence. 11. And, he that has any one of these three notions, even by that, has all: for, the Sensible Qualities impart both a capacity of Existence and a power for Action. 12. Whence, too, it appears, that one Body can have but one primary Operation: for, since the sensible qualities give both the power of working and the capacity of existence, and they, in the same part of Matter, are the same; either they conspire to one operation, or not: if not, neither will it be one body, but many: if they conspire, there is, then, one primary operation of such a body; which could not be produced, either by another disposition, nor together with any other disposition then that. A natural Body, therefore, is that One Thing whose Operation is One. LESSON IU. Of the essential unity and distinction of the Elements and mixed bodies. 1. Les. 3. n. 4. SInce 'tis said above, that there's but one possible Substantial Matter, and Quantity is known to be infinite in power; the power of Matter, too, to Quantity must needs be infinite: Since, therefore, actually, Quantity is but finite; the Composit or compound must needs be, in some measure, dense. 2. And, if whole Nature were uniform, it must be established in a certain degree of Density and Rarity, springing from the proportion of Matter to this Quantity: but, the special and particular bodies which are in the Universe, as it is now framed, participate, out of this universal proportion, some more some less of Density and Rarity. 3. Since, therefore, the notions of Density and Rarity are the first differences of Magnitudes: those bodies, which first and least of all exceed the nature of Body in common, will be distinguished by these differences, that some exist in denser parts, others in rarer; which, in our Physics, we have said, are the Elements. 4. Since, therefore, the operations of rare and dense bodies, as such, are to divide and be divided; and this last is passion, out of which the essential notion is not deduced; it comes to pass, that all the Elements receive their differences, according to their power of dividing: and since, to divide is a kind of simple action; they are distinguished by no other differences then of more and less, that is, of velocity and slowness. 5. Among the Elements, therefore, those which are framed by nature to divide more swiftly must be more perfect; and those are they which are more subtle: wherefore, since the greatest force of dividing agrees to Fire, that must be the noblest; next to which must be Air, than Water, than Earth. 6. Which last, though, by its Bulk and density, it may seem more apt to divide, and has, as it were, in the first place, the nature of divisive: yet, by reason of the grossness of its parts, in natural action, it can do the very lest of them all; and consequently, 'tis the vilest and most beggarly Instrument. 7. It appears farther that, since a body is, essentially, an Instrument for a determinate motion; and there must needs be some least degree of rarity and density; and the littleness in bulk hinders both the divisive power and divisibility: there may be supposed, in every Element, parts so little, that, according to the order of the Universe, they may neither have a capacity of dividing others, nor of being divided by others; and so, there may not be in them the essential notion of an Element, nor of any other natural body. 8. Again, since all bodies are Conjoined; B. 2. les. 2. n. 7. it appears, that such minutest particles never exist, but in composition with others: nay, when ever two or more Elements are joined, it must needs be that their extremes may be supposed in so little a quantity, that one cannot operate without the other. 9 There must needs, therefore, in nature, out of the pure conjunction of the Elements, be a notion of a certain body, whose parts cannot act at all separately, but, in conjunction they may: that is, some body essentially distinct from the Elements, and yet, made out of their conjunction; that is, a body whose essence is to be a Mixtum or mixed body. 10. But, since, in bodies, universally, Unity and Magnitude are considered: 'tis plain, the differences of those bodies are collected out of three respects; the specifical difference of the Elements, that is, the degrees of Density and Rarity; the Multitude of parts of the same notion; and their Bulk. 11. A Mixtum, therefore, is a body of certain parts, of divers degrees of rarity and density, in a certain number and bulk compacted among themselves, ordained by nature for a determinate Motion. Moreover, 'tis evident, that the qualities of the Elements exist refracted and mutually abated in mixed bodies; since, the very lest must needs simply differ in degrees of rare and dense, and these degrees, by reason of the composition, must needs hinder one another. 12. And yet, that no substantial Form of any Element is found in a Mixtum: since, a Form constitutes a Thing, and a Thing is ordained for Motion; but, Motion is of the whole, not of the several parts. 13. Out of what has been said, 'tis evident, that the operation of a Mixtum is a certain Division qualified by the nature of the parts of the Mixtum: which nature, the better 'tis, that is, the more serviceable for the best works of nature, so much the nobler is the Mixtum, essentially. 14. Again, if the whole mixture of the Elements be shut up into so little a part, that one part cannot, separated from another, have its proper effect; then the Mixtum is simply one and primely mixed: but, if the mixture be extended so amply, that many parts may act, asunder, according to the divers parts of the temperament; then, 'tis not a Mixtum, but a Demixtum or Decompositum, that is, one made up of many Mixtums; as we see in Metals and other Mines, as Coal, etc. where many Mixtums are joined together, which are apt to be separated by fire or other artifice. LESSON V. Of the Essence of Animals, and of the Soul. 1. BUt because, among Mixtum's, some are solid and consistent, others fluid; and of these, by the course of nature, the conditions and temperaments are different and, in some sort, opposite: there must, of necessity, out of the conjunction of these, rise a middle temper, which cannot but be fit for some certain motions. 2. And, because all things, with us here, are beset with heat; the solid parts cannot be kept moist, that is, mixed throughly with actual moisture, unless there be some continual cause or Fountain, out of which the moisture, so consumable and subject to be wasted by the power of heat, may be perpetually supplied. 3. Now, that Fountain may be supposed within and intrinsecall to the Mixtum, or else conjoined, that is, in a body joined to it: But, if it be this later way, 'tis plain, that watered Mixtum is not, of its mere self, constantly what it is, but through its situation or conjunction to another, from which, if it be separated, it perishes. 4. But, that which is watered the former way has, within itself, what is necessary to keep it still a constant Instrument in nature, of that operation which 'tis framed to undertake: and, consequently, it has one Form, from that one Operation 'tis ordained to, and that one Order of parts conformed to such an operation. 5. And, because we find these in all and only Animals: an Animal is evidently counted to be One natural Thing having one Form. 6. You'll say, if the several similary parts of an Animal, subsisting in their proper forms, were connected; they'd have the same effect as they have now in the Animal: there's no need, therefore, of the particular form of an Animal. 7. 'Tis answered, there's no particular nature in any similary part of an Animal, which is common to that part alive and dead, as if there could be some form, as it were, indifferent; but, the nature of a living part is contrary to the nature of a dead part: Now, natural Things are natural parts of the world, unerringly flowing from the ESSENTIFICALL IDEAS; and, therefore, they receive essential notions, according to the Order they have in the Universe. 8. But, because the parts of an Animal are so framed, that one should water, that is, alter or move another; 'tis plain that, of necessity, they must be of several conditions and figures: wherefore, the complex of them is an Organical body, having within itself Life, that is, a power of moving itself; and, its Form is the Act of such a body, that is, a Soul. 9 But, since the notion of a Soul requires that the parts of its subject, whose orm it is, be some Movers others Moved; 'tis clear, that it does not inform each of the parts, or, is not in every part, as 'tis usually said, and as it happens in Elementary forms; but, that 'tis only in the whole and, immediately, the Form of the Whole. 10. Notwithstanding, the parts have not, therefore, partial or particular Forms: because they are not actually in the whole, nor have, actually, any nature by which they could subsist out of the whole; as appears, in that, being but divided, they presently die. 11. Hence, 'tis collected, wherein consists the Metaphysical notion of an Animal: viz. that, 'Tis a Thing of many parts, ordered among themselves, as to Action; that is, whereof some are active upon others, and the rest are passive from them. 12. To which the Moral definition adjoyn's, that 'Tis an Instrument for Action, that is, for that operation or motion to which they apply themselves; such as is local motion, which all participate. 13. And, the Physical definition considers that many Mixtums are contained in an Animal, as also Organical parts, that is, parts woven and composed of many Mixtums; and so conjoined, that the liberty of each is not taken away, but that they are active upon one another, as if they were distinct Things. 14. And, since, from the presence of an Object, an impression is made upon an Animal; whence it begins to act about that which is without, so as is convenient for the nature itself of the Animal; yet, this impression is, such as makes no sensible change in the Animal: we apprehend the Object to be in the Animal, as neither perfecting nor hurting it, but indifferently, and purely As another thing; and this we call Knowing: and, that the Animal operates out of itself, as it were, what is convenient for it, supposing this knowledge; and this we call working out of knowledge. 15. Again, because it appears, by our Physics, that the proper motions of an Animal derive their Origin from the Heart, which directs the Spirits into the nerves that are necessary for all kinds of motion; and that this Impulse is called Passion; moreover, that all Passions depend and emerge from LOVE and, in an Animal rightly disposed, are subject and conformable to love: It follows, that Its prime Love, or, the prosecution of its chiefly beloved is that Passion or Motion or Action, to which the fabric and compagination of an Animal is immediately ordered; and consequently, that Animals, by these, excel one another. 16. Now, the prime pursuit of an Animal is after Food; and Food is what is conformable to the quality of a body, and preserves and causes a right disposition: Since, therefore, an Animal agrees with other bodies in being an Instrument, to be applied by another, and an Instrument is, in so much, more perfect, as it can perform, more easily and more efficaciously, more or more Noble works; that Animal will be better than the rest, which is more easily appliable, and to more things: for commonly, the more noble operation consists of the more parts, and what's applied more easily operates more efficaciously. 17. The Food, therefore, of that Animal is best, which renders it of a calm Fancy and of an Appetite the most indifferent; which, commonly, follow one another: and, that Animal is the best, which is primarily affected to such Food. LESSON VI. Of the Chief Animal and the essential distinction of Bodies. 1. OUt of what has been said, it may be convinced, if some Animal can be applied to one or more determinate operations, and another to whatever, without any term or limitation; this later kind has so great an eminency above the former, that they are not of the same Order: wherefore, It will be the noblest, and something above the Order of the rest. 2. 'Tis plain, too, that nothing greater can be imagined, in the notion of an Animal; no, nor of a Body: For, if a Body be an Instrument appliable to a determinate action, an Instrument to all extends to both the noblest and the most: Wherefore, nothing can be conceived higher in the notion either of a Body or an Animal. 3. Since, therefore, in our Physics, B. 2. les. 24. n. 6. it appears, that a Man, even in his Body, is provided to do any thing whatever; 'tis plain, that a Man is the prime both of Bodies and Animals; and something beyond them. 4. It appears out of what has been said, that there cannot be any other differences of Bodies, which are not comprehended in the forementioned. For, the Elements, differing in Rarity and Density, divide Body, precisely, as it speaks Quantity united to Substance: The nature of Mixtum's, which consist in the Number and Proportion of rare and dense bodies, follows that divisibility of quantity, whereby bodies have number and proportion: And, the Site and Order of Parts we chiefly see in Animals, whose members can act one upon another: Lastly, the Infinitude of Quantity shows itself in Man, in that he is ordinable, after a sort, to infinite things. 5. Again, since Quantity is divisibility into parts, those are distinct either in Number, as it were, and Site only; and bodies divisible into such parts are the Elements: or, they differ in Nature; and such are the parts of Mixtum's: or, lastly, they are parts which, in the Thing itself, are, as it were, certain Things exercising their own proper operations; such are the Members of Animals; the complex of which, if it makes a body orderable to all possible Action, it constitutes a Man. 6. Again, the division which a body makes is, either simply dividing more and less; and, by this, the Elements are distinguished: or, 'tis a modified division, by which certain bodies, with a certain qualification, are distinguished; and this is the proper division of Mixed bodies, by which their so many effects are produced: or 'tis an abstractive division, that is, which, of itself, has no effect, but is a way and instrument to another division; and such is the motion of Animals; which, if it be in a certain determinate manner and number, constitutes the other Animals, if indeterminately and with infinite variety, belongs to Man. 7. And, that these differences are essential, appears from hence, that they, of themselves, divide and include the notion and end of a Thing consisting of parts, that is, of Body or bodily Substance; as cloven-footednesse includes pedality, and the being divided into three or four Toes includes cloven-footednesse: for, no difference, of any of these abovementioned kinds, can be understood without the notion of a Thing consisting of parts; nor, be apapplyed to any other common notion, unless accidentally. 8. Nor, is it less apparent, that these essential differences are the very Accidents, that is, the very complexion or clinging together of rare and dense parts: which is called Substantial or essential, in as much as it furnishes the body for its prime and chief operation; and as, saving the order to the chief operation, 'tis mutable, so far 'tis some of the Accidents: For, since the parts are not actually in a formal Compound; 'tis clear, that whatever is in the Compound cannot be this and that, several and distinct Things. 9 A transmutation, therefore, is accidental only or more than accidental, in as much as 'tis greater or less, or, as it extends to several notions. 10. Hence, again, 'tis evident, that generical unity, though it be founded in nature (as appears out of what has been said): yet 'tis not truly any other then Mental (that is, by being in the understanding) as to the effect of unity; though the similitude in which 'tis founded be real. 11. And that the ultimate essential unity, which they term Specifical, and imagine common, is no other than the very Individual unity: For, since all difference consists of the collection of rare and dense, and all operation follows the same differences in the very instant of the birth or first being of every thing, when the Individuation is determined; it must needs be, that whatever Accidents there are, in the thing once made, either fit or avert it from the primary operation, to which 'tis ordained: Since, therefore, every change in the Form makes an essential difference, and all variety in respect of the primary operation is a change in the Form, 'tis plain that every Accident concurs to an essential change; and (which was intended) that numerical difference, which is the ultimate and complete proportion of a Thing to its operation, is essential. 12. Wherefore, since, from the highest ratio or notion of a Thing consisting of parts, one may descend, by numberless degrees, to whatever Individual; generical degrees will be without any known number, but the specifical will be no other than that of an Individuum. LESSON VII. Of the mutation of the Individuality in the several kinds of Bodies. 1. ANd, hence, 'tis evident that, a Thing being changed but accidentally, the Individuality is not changed; because that's taken directly under the notion of Thing or Body; which is the last that's destroyed in the thing, as 'tis the last that's made. 2. For, since change is made by local motion, and that's divisible without end; if, upon every accidental variation, the Substance should be changed, substantial transmutation would be continually successive, and would not subsist but in motion, that is, so, that one part would not be whilst another is; and consequently, the notion of a Substance would never be nor its Being be Indivisible; nor would there be any Thing by whose mediation Accidents might subsist; to conclude, there would be nothing in Nature, the constancy and firmness of Substance being once taken away. 3. Among the Elements 'tis plain, the Notion of the Individuum is changed by mere division; so that, any whatever least particle being taken away or added, the notion of the Individuum is changed: But, the quality of Rarity or Density being changed, the notion of the Individuum is not, therefore, altered. 4. For, since the mutation according to Rarity and Density is a continual one, that is, divisible without end; there would be an infinite succession of Individuums: But, it appears to the Considerer, that it happens not so in division; whose Motion though it be continual, yet the being divided follows indivisibly. Besides, if, both by division and change of rarity, the quidditative notion of an Element should be varied, there would be no accidental change in the Elements. 5. Of Mixtums, the manner is partly the same, partly different: for, if a dissolution intervene between the heterogeneal parts which essentially constitute a Mixtum, there will be a change, not of the Individuum, but of the generical notion; but, if any parts of the same temperament be either added or taken away, the Individual notion is accounted changed. 6. But, the Unity of an Animal is not prejudiced by the withdrawing of neither similary nor dissimilary parts; but only of those, wherein the prime force of its Instrumentality precisely consists: and, that being maimed, it suffers a generical change. 7. For, since the divisibility of the Elements is, precisely, into the parts of a Magnitude; out of that division, by the course of nature, a variation in the Substances must necessarily follow. 8. As also, since the composition of Animals clearly aym's, by a certain Way, at a certain End; a substantial variatio in them must only depend upon the change of the adequate complexion necessary to the End of the composition. 9 Lastly, Mixtums; since their notion is constituted betwixt both these; as 'tis aggregated of similary parts and has a conformity with the Elements, so far, it follows, they must be subject to their way of change; but, as 'tis compounded of dissimilar parts, yet cohering in Proportion not Order, so far 'tis changed by the change of the Proportion without any respect to the Order. 10. You'll object; Since every Accident concurs to the designation of the Substance; upon any Accident's being changed, the ultimate substantial difference must be altered: especially, since a Substance is defined to be nothing but A certain Resultance from Accidents. 11. 'Tis answered, that, as, 'tis evident, Plurality is, so, nothing else but division ended, as, notwithstanding, not every part of the division changes Unity, but only the Figure: so, it happens in Rarefaction, that 'tis indeed the production of a new Element, when 'tis perfected; yet, every part of rarefaction does not partially change the Substance of an Element. 12. Now, rarefaction and condensation is perfected, when 'tis become such, that the former degree cannot be restored to the Thing that's rarified or condensed, out of the precise nature of Common causes; but there's need of a special cause for this effect: for, 'tis plain, that, otherwise, it is not, in respect of the world, a new Thing or part; since, by the very common constitution of the world, 'twill return to its former nature. 13. Much more, in the destruction of an Animal, every alteration is, so, a way to its destruction, as, notwithstanding, every part does not partially change the very Substance of the Animal. 14. Hence, 'tis collected, how there's made an Augmentation of the same numerical Animal, through the whole course of its life; and how, many of its members being cut off, the same still numerical Animal remains: For, it being said, that the Substantial notion of an Animal is to be rated from its prime Passion, and that That is the Love of Food, that is, of preserving itself; moreover, that an Animal being once made, the identity is not changed, unless the quality of its first operation be changed, according to the order of nature; it follows, that an Animal is not changed substantially, as long as the love of preserving itself remains in it. 15. But, the cutting off of members, clearly, does not take away this disposition; and, the change which is made by the digesting Food into itself is meant to continue the Animal: 'tis clear, therefore, neither of these destroy the bounds of nature, which, we have said, are the Ends and determiners of Substance; & consequently, the nature of Individuation remains firm. 16. Now, why an Animal, remaining the same in Substance, should not be rarefied although more quantity come to it: the reason is plain; because, the Substance of an Animal is, of itself, indifferent to many Magnitudes, that is, to be less and bigger, and that which it receives is derived to it by the destruction of other bodies; so that materia prima (which is a capacity of quantity) has that comparison to the augmented Animal, that is, is a Capacity of as much quantity in the Animal, as it was before in many Things: whence, it comes to pass, that in the Animal, the quantity and substance retain the same proportion to the Standard or universal substance, which before they had to it in the Animal and its food. 17. It appears, again, out of what has been said, how the Suppositum may be said to have more in it then the Nature; though these are, indeed, one and the very same thing: For, the Nature speaks the complexion of Accidents, precisely as 'tis a complexion; and so makes an Instrument of the operation intended by nature: and the notion of this is one and determined; and there's nothing in it but essentially and formally. 18. But, the Suppositum is the thing which the Nature constitutes: whence, because it so explicates the nature, as that, besides, it includes confusedly other notions; as also, because the nature is a complexion of many, the natures of every one must needs be conjoined with this Nature or Substance: it comes to pass, that all the Accidents, according to their particular natures, are in the Suppositum; and consequently, that there is more in the Suppositum, then in the Nature. LESSON VIII. Of the proper Action of the Chief Animal. 1. IT appears, farther, that, since an Animal is governed by Passion; and Passion rises from goods or ills to Nature, that is, those things which are conformable or dissonant to nature: Man, if he be appliable to all things, that is, prompt to embrace any ill of nature, or fly any good; must of necessity have such a faculty in him, that, in his Brain, ills of nature greater than any such good may be joined to the good which he is to eschew, and likewise greater goods to the ill he is to embrace; that, so, he may, by the applyer, be impelled to his destined actions. 2. These goods, therefore, with ills, and chose, since they are not conjoined in the things themselves, and yet must appear to him conjoined, and this not by mistake but by the design of nature; 'tis plain, there is in the Man a faculty whereby it may appear to him that those goods are conjoined with the ills, and that he from that appearance is moved; and not because the appearances are naturally conjoined (as, peradventure, 'tis in Beasts), which, not having any conjunction from a conjunction of the objects in nature, (as, future or past things), cannot from such conjunction, that is, by force of nature, have a power of moving through conjunction. 3. And, since this conjunction moves a man, not as being a manner of the knowledge of things, but because 'tis the thing known; the other conditions, too, of Things and chiefly their very Existence must be, so, in a man and, so, move him: The objects, therefore, as existing, that is, Existence as Existence must be known by a man. 4. And, because existence, by its own Form and its very being existence, excludes nonexistence; he that knows a thing exists knows that it does not not-exist, or (which is as much) that what exists, whilst it does so, cannot not-exist. Man, therefore, has a foundation whereby he may be certified of all Truth, viz. that The same cannot be and notbe, at once. 5. Since, therefore, than we are judged to understand, when we know a thing is and cannot be otherwise; a Man, certainly, is to be called an Understanding Creature. 6. Again, since our knowledge rises from our Senses, & our Senses, sometimes, are so imperfectly moved by the Objects, that, though we perceive there's something, yet we know not its quality, (for example, we see a body, which we know not whether it be alive or dead; or, we discern it moves itself, but doubt what kind of Animal 'tis): 'tis evident, we know some one thing, of more like to one another which we are acquainted with, to be, without distinguishing the individuality, that is, we have an universal notion which is indifferent to many. 7. And, compounding these former with this farther Consideration, that 'Tis the same thing to know One thing is another, & to know that Those things, which are the same with a third, are the same between themselves: 'tis plain that a Man is Discursive; and that his knowledge is derived from those things, whereof he's certain, to something, whereof he was not certain, but is rendered certain by the very derivation. 8. And because, of those things which are unknown, either part is indifferent to the Understanding, and the Understanding is undetermined concerning them: it follows, that a Man, by this Discourse, of undetermined, is rendered determined; and, because the Principles of determination are in himself, it comes to pass that a Man determines himself and moves himself. 9 Again, since, 'tis clear, that one part of a Man is affected from another part, as from a sensible object; for example, One hand Feels the other or whatever other exterior part of the Body; in like manner, we are sensible of ourselves by Smell, Hearing, and Sight: it follows, that a Man can think and discourse of himself and, consequently, of his actions; and, by consequence, that he can determine himself to act or not-act, the understanding descending by discourse to the good or illness of the action he is about to do. 10. A Man, therefore, moves himself to act and is Master of his action, and, out of the notion of good and ill, differently disposes his action; which we use to call being Free: a Man, therefore, is Free. 11. You'll object, that liberty, according to the common notion of men, consists in this, that, Supposing all things requisite for action, yet a Man can, out of an intrinsical faculty, immediately will to act or not-act. 'Tis answered, This is not the notion of the vulgar; which holds to act and not-act for the notion of liberty, without that addition of supposing all things requisite besides the action itself: nor is it the notion of the Learned, that have sought in Nature itself, how the notion of the vulgar should be explicated. 12. But 'tis an error in Metaphysic, in as much as it supposes an indifferent, as indifferent, to act; and that to be in Effect which never was in Cause, that is, an effect to be without a cause. 13. Again, 'tis erroneous in Moral Science: for the Notion of Virtue would be taken away; whose nature 'tis to incline to will actually, so that, a more virtuous person is more determined to will just things then a less virtuous. 14. Persuasion, too, and Negotiation would be taken away: for, if the determination of the will should proceed not out of the preceding causes, in vain would be the endeavours of drawing men to follow one thing more than another. 15. Out of what has been said, it may be determined, that Man, by force of his Intellective virtue, considered in itself, is capable of infinite Science: For, since, whatever is added is still a degree and disposition in the Man to farther Science 'tis apparent, the understanding is not burdened but rendered more capable by former Science: Wherefore, since Science, for its part, may, by addition, increase without end, and is only restrained by uninfinitenesse of the number of the Objects, it must needs be that Man is capable of comprehending all, that is, infinite Science, together and at once; that is, he is of a capacity absolutely infinite, in respect of bodies; comprehending infinite of them, as a Superficies comprehends infinite Lines, and a Line infinite Points. 16. Again, since, among knowable things, those are contained, too, which are to be done by a Man; to this, also, humane Science extends, even to know what's to be done. And, since Science is an active Principle, a Man, by Science, will be enabled to direct his actions; that is, to govern his life; and this most perfectly, because he is enabled to know what's best to be done. LESSON IX. Of the Soul of the Chief Animal, or, of the MIND. 1. OUt of what has been hitherto explicated, 'tis easily deduced that Man, according to this principle, is raised above the notions of Matter and Quantity. For, since Matter is a certain capacity of Quantity, Quantity of Figure, Figure is determined by Place, and all these in Time: but, 'tis clear, that the intention and thought of Man, in an universal conception, is entertained about something indifferent to infinite Figures, Places, Times, and Magnitudes; and this, not out of the nature of the thing, but because 'tis in the Mind of Man: 'Tis most evident that the Mind is something of another kind than Matter and Quantity; and consequently, nobler, since 'tis an addition to the perfectest bodies. 2. Again, since Thing and Existence is that which first and primely fixes the Mind, and to which it seems to be a certain capacity: but Thing (out of what has been said) abstracts from and is before great and little, Les. 7. n. 11. 16. both in rarefyed and augmented things: it follows, that the notion of the Mind is before and nobler than Quantity and, its com-part, Matter. 3. Again, since all the negotiation of our Mind reduces divisibles to indivisibility; as appears in Numbers, Figures, Points, Lines, Superficies, Instants, Comparisons, Denominations, Relations, Negations etc. but, nothing is so different as an indivisible from a divisible: 'tis clear, on all sides, that the nature of the Mind is wholly opposite to the nature of Quantity; and Quantity implying a kind of undeterminatenesse and confusion, that the Mind is still the nobler part. 4. Nor, with less evidence, is it proved that the Mind is a Substantial principle of Man: For, since his operations are manifestly indivisible; but, what is received in a divisible, ipso facto becomes divisible upon the division of the subject; 'tis clear, his operations are not received in a Magnitude, and, consequently, that his Mind is an indivisible Substance. 5. Again, if the Substance of Man be wholly material and divisible, his Mind itself and all its affections can be nothing but certain Manners and determinations of divisibility (as, 'tis plain, of the other qualities which are accessary to bodies): but, 'tis plain, out of what has been said, that 'tis no such thing: wherefore, neither that the whole Substance of Man is material, but, in part, Spiritual and indivisible. 6. 'Tis clear, too, that the Mind is not another, but the same Substance with the Man: For, since an Instrument to all things includes the being an Instrument to some; wherein consists the notion of an Animal: 'tis clear, that a Man is a certain Species of Animal; and consequently, that his Mind, by which he is a Man, is formally one and the same Thing with the rest of the Substance of Man. 7. And indeed, were it supposed a distinct Thing from the Substance of the Man, it would not suffer from the body, nor could it acquire any thing through its conjunction to the body, nor be at all conjoined to it: for, it must be either entitatively, and this cannot be otherwise then by unity of Substance, for a Thing speaks Substance; or, some other accidental way, whereof there's nothing common to a body and a Spirit. 8. You'll say, Since a Spirit is a Thing of another order then a body, how can it concur into the same Thing? then, how will it be cemented? and, what neighbourhood of one to the other? 'Tis answered, that, as, in a Magnitude, one part is fastened to another, and has the power of a Subsister without division, that is, the propriety of a severed Thing without separation: so, the Soul also, may be the same with the body, without confusion of properties. 9 And, because, in a corporeal Substance, there's admitted a certain negatively indivisible virtue antecedent to divisibility, viz. a not-yet divisibility of the Substance before the Quantity: such as is the connexion and gradation from the divisibility to the negative indivisibility; another like that will be apt to unite, without a Paradox, the Mind positively indivisible, to the Substance negatively indivisible. 10. And, how will it unite? but, according to those parts, in which the Substance primarily and principally resides: which, as 'tis principally in the Heart, that being a certain Fountain of the whole Thing; so, specially, as to the notion of Animality, 'tis in the Brain, whence Sense and Motion is derived to the whole Animal, which are those operations from which 'tis denominated an Animal. 11. Since, therefore, the other actions, which do not affect the Heart nor the Brain, strike not home to the inmost Substance; so, neither do they reach Mental Knowledge or the integrity of the Soul: but, the changes that strike upon these Principles affect the Soul, too; and, it comes to pass that not-the-same ordination of bodily parts, especially of the Spirits and Heart, follows in Man from the Brain's being affected, which would follow in another Animal; but one, from the propriety of the affected Substance, conformable to the whole, not to the body alone. 12. But, any other unity, then that the Soul should intimely be comprehended in the definition of Man, and consequently, should consist of the same notion and indistinct predicates, is not to be looked for in Substance. LESSON X. Of the Proficiency and Deficiency of Man, and of his Essence. 1. THis, therefore, is out of Controversy, that Man, as to his Soul, suffers from Corporeal Agents: For, since the Soul itself is a certain Affection or Qualification of a divisible Substance, which is introduced and expelled by corporeal actions; 'tis clear, that those actions, which reach to the very Substance, must, of necessity, affect and be received in it, after its manner. 2. Consequently, it acquires Science: For, since, 'tis nothing but a certain Possibility to Science, as to its perfection; 'tis manifest, that all its change is towards Science, viz. to be some kind of Knowledge, either perfect or imperfect. 3. Whence, even they, that deny the Soul acquires Science, say that 'tis excited and admonished by the presence of the body: but, to be excited and admonished is to receive knowledge: the Soul, therefore, acquires knowledge from the Body. 4. Nor makes against this Socrates' experiment of a Boy, orderly asked and answering right to Geometrical propositions: for, this questioning was a production of Science, not a renovation; for 'twas an application of the notion of the same Being, which is between the Terms, to the understanding of the Boy; whereby it came to pass that the Truth to be known was by the notion of Thing, knit to the Soul of the Boy, and made, as it were, a part of it, in which the virtue of knowledge and Science consists. 5. Yet, the Soul has not, by this Science, a power to move the body: For, we see, Science is often overcome by Passion; but, if it had any proper activity, it could not be resisted by any power of its own body: Moreover, it would no longer be a part of a Man, but something grafted in him of a superior nature, according to that virtue. 6. It follows, therefore, that, by virtue of the Soul, more motives of goods or ills are conjoined to the singular objects; by whose conjunction the Heart and the body is affected otherwise to those goods or ills, than it would be had they not that conjunction: So that, the force of Pain and Pleasure is that which moves a Man, even then when he seems to follow the firmest Reason; namely, because to be Reasonable to follow this and to fly that, is nothing else but that more of delightful is conjoined with this and more of painful with that. 7. In virtue of these, therefore, a Man is changed, and acts otherwise then if he had not understanding. Nor, is he carried, from the very beginning, by reason or any proper power, to this connection of goods with ills; but is prevented by some chance or obvious disposition of objects & corporeal causes, either intrinsical or extrinsecall. 8. Now, this disposition in the Soul, upon which Operation follows, we call the WILL, and the first beginning Volition; which, 'tis apparent, is left by precedent judgements, chiefly those that are about good or ill, since, by such judgements, 'tis plain, a Man is determined to action. 9 Hence, it appears, how the Soul fails in Opining: For, seeing Objects occur to the Soul, not deduced and drawn-in, by its own force and nerves, as it were, but, by the agitation of bodies; if the affection to any thing so presses a Man to action, that it leaves not room for the objects to run in that order which is necessary for demonstration; the Man must needs fall to acting, before he has any absolute evidence what's to be done. 10. If this be done by reflection, a Man see's that he's moved uncertainly; but, he see's, too, that nature requires he should move upon apparences; whence, he does no unbeseeming incongruous thing: But, if it be done without reflection, a Man takes an uncertainfor a certain; which is, to Opine; for he says, this is, which he has no determinate cause to say. 11. From this precipitation of action, it happens, that one Man operates better, another worse; according as one, more frequently or more grievously, precipitates his action, than another. And, those that come nearest to evidence, as far as nature will bear, do the uttermost of their power; which is to operate virtuously: but, those that very much recede from it, are called vicious: between which, a certain middle state of Men inclines notoriously to neither part. 12. 'Tis clear, therefore, whence the defectibility of Vice rises in Mankind: to wit, because, by too much precipitation of bodily motion, false or the worse opinions are generated. Whence, it follows, that man is not only changeable from imperfect to perfect, but also from good to evil, and chose: For, if he has opined a falsity, upon farther light, he may be led to the Truth, and if, invited by apparences, he has followed the Truth, by others he may be averted again. 13. Whence, 'tis evident, there's some opposition in the Soul, that is, some acts incompossible at once in it: for, since those things which are in the Soul inhere in it, in virtue of Being; 'tis plain, it must be gathered, out of the very notion of Being, what things consist together in the Soul and what not. Now, 'tis clear, that 'tis against the notion of Being, that the same should Be and notbe: but, of those things that are, all agree in the notion of Being, nor does any thing hinder that white and black, light and darkness, hot and cold should coexist; wherefore, neither does any thing forbid their being together in the Soul: but, for the same to Be and notbe, which is, to be affirmed and denied, 'tis wholly repugnant. 14. Since, therefore, Man suffers no repugnancy in himself to have whatever other things together in his Mind; it comes to pass, that he is capable and cognoscitive of all Things: He can, therefore, know what's best for himself, or, in what State he may most perfectly enjoy himself: Nor, will he doubt that he is to strain towards this by all his actions; wherefore, he will be governed against nature, if he be employed otherwise then is convenient to attain This last End. 15. Whether, therefore, one Man rules another, or whether some superior Power governs him; he governed against nature, if he withdraw him from This chiefest Good: And because Nature is the Principle of acting; a Man, as far as he is able, will reduce himself to a rectitude and strait course towards his ULTIMATE GOOD, and will resist all contrary operation. 16. Though Man, therefore, be an Instrument, framed to be moved by another, as all other Animals: yet, 'twill be with this difference, that other Animals are ordained to be moved to the End of the Mover, without any respect to their proper good; but, Man is governed to the Mover's End, no farther than as the same is a Motion towards the proper Good of Man. 17. MAN, therefore, is an Instrument, framed by nature apt for universality of Action, that is, to do any thing whatever, so it be in order to his proper good: or, a Thing, of connected parts, in a passive and active order, that is, which can order themselves: or, lastly, Consisting of a RATIONAL SOUL and an ANIMAL BODY. Peripatetical INSTITUTIONS. Fifth Book. Containing that part of METAPHYSIC, which treats of SUBSTANCES ABSTRACTED from Matter, and of the Operation of Things. LESSON I. Of the Souls separation from the Body. 1. OUt of what has been said, 'tis evident, that a Humane Soul perishes not at the dissolution of its Body: For, since, whilst it exists in the Body, it has immanent acts which cannot belong to a Body; it must of necessity have, of its proper self, the virtue of a Thing, or, of receiving Existence: Since, therefore, there's nothing farther required to exist, in a thing already existing, but the having in itself a power of sustaining existence; and, 'tis plain, that, the body being taken away, this power is not withdrawn, (since 'tis in the Soul, apart from and besides the Body); 'tis evident that, by the dissolution of the Body, the Soul is not dissolved. 2. Add to this, that, since there is no other substantial divisibility, but of Form and Matter; and Matter is not necessary to the Souls existence; there's no divisibility in the Subject of existence, as existence is in the Soul, by means whereof the Soul can be alienated from Being. 3. We see, too, that all mortality of Bodies either proceeds from contrariety, or from the divisibility of a quantitative Subject; whereof, since neither is to be found in the Soul separated, 'tis plain, that 'Tis not subject to corruption. 4. You'll object, if the Soul in the body is capable of existence, 'tis capable of action or of a Motive power; as quantitative parts, though they have a common existence, yet act upon one another. 'Tis answered, quantitative parts are accessary to and find the Substance already perfect: but formal parts (at least essential ones) do not presuppose the Substance established; whence, the active power follows not any one, but all. 5. You'll say, that Existence, too, supposes all the parts of a Thing, as 'tis a Thing: wherefore, neither will the Soul be capable of existence in the Body. 'Tis answered, that action belongs to the Soul in the Body as existence does: For, existence makes not the Soul, while 'tis in the Body, to be a Thing; for that's primely of the whole, and the whole Man is the Thing; but it makes the Soul to be That which may be a Thing: So, also, 'tis not absolutely a principle of acting, but 'tis a principle by which action becomes other than 'twould be without it; and consequently, it has a Being, whence action may be, but not whence ' 'tis. 6. It appears, again, that the Soul separated is not, truly, the same Thing with the Soul in the Body; but is substantially changed. For, first 'twas joined substantially to the Body and was one with it: but, 'tis clear, that when, by division, more things are made of one, the Thing divided is changed; especially when the Unity itself was substantial, as in the present case; since the Soul adheres to the corporeal Substance, not by quantity, but by identification. 7. Again, the Soul, now separated, is the immediate and adequate Subject of its own existence: whereas, in the body, the Man himself was the Thing, and the Soul only a part of the Thing, or, whereby the Thing was. Yet, 'tis the same Thing, as to its notion and definition; since it consists of those predicates it had in the Body. 8. You'll object, In the Body, it had not a power of receiving existence in itself; therefore, neither will it have out of the Body: for a part and a Thing are of an entirely different kind, and vastly distinct from one another. 'Tis answered, that, as, in the parts of a Magnitude, 'tis manifest, that they are neither Things, nor only parts of a Thing; but something between, which is so a part, that it may be some kind of whole: So, it repugns not, that there should be something in formal parts which is, de facto, a part, and yet may be a whole; and that should be a kind of Middle thing, which has enough in itself to become a whole, yet should not actually be a whole: Whence, when the Soul is separated, there is not any thing added to it, to make it more capable of existence, but that is withdrawn from it, which hindered it from existing. 9 Now, he that desires to frame to himself, in some sort, a notion of a separated Soul; let him ponder with himself that object which corresponds to the words Man or Animal, as such: which when he shall see, abstracts from Place and Time, and is a Substance by the only necessity of the Terms; let him conceive the like of a separated Soul. 10. Then, let him attentively consider some self-evident and most natural proposition: in which, when he shall have contemplated that the object is in the Soul with its proper existence and, as it were, by it; let him think a separated Soul is a Substance that is all other things, by the very connexion of Existences. 11. Lastly, when, in Bodies, he shall observe that Motion proceeds from the quality of the Mover & a certain impulse; and that this impulse is derived again from another impulse, and so up even to that which is first moved, and beyond: let him imagine the Soul is a kind of principle of such impulse; whatsoever thing that must be. 12. What is said of the Substance of the Soul, undoubtedly must be understood, too, of its proper Accidents; for, since they depend only upon it, (being something of it, nay even the very Soul), and it would be more imperfect without them; they must run the same fortune with it, unless some special reason interpose. 13. Whatever things, therefore, were in the Man, according to his Soul, at the instant of his Death, remain in the Soul after separation: wherefore, all his Resolutions or judgements, whether speculative or practical, shall remain in it; where, since they cannot be without Apprehensions, even they, too, shall remain: And, since all things, which are made to follow out of or have connexion with these, are in a separated Soul, in virtue of these, its Science must needs be extended to all those; all such, therefore, which have once been in it and are not blotted out, after death all remain. 14. Since, therefore, in a Soul there's an infinite capacity; and there's no opposition of apprehensions among themselves, nor any other opposition, but of contradiction, whereby the same is affirmed to be and notbe: all the apprehensions, scraped up together in the whole life, and judgements unretracted must, of necessity, remain; unless some special Cause withstand. 15. The whole Notion, therefore, of the past life, all the particular acquaintances of Familiars and other Individuums, all Sciences and Arts, attained in the life time, survive after Death. LESSON II. Of the Science of a separated Soul, and its unity with the Soul. 1. BUt, all these things being so, now, in the Soul, that time was, they were not; 'tis plain, they are so conjoined to it, that there's no repugnancy it may be without them: wherefore, so there be a cause, they may be divided from it: some kind of divisibility, then, there is between the Soul and the things in it. 2. Not that which is between the parts of a Magnitude; since, here's an indivisibility on both sides, whereas a Magnitude is not made up of indivisibles. Nor, that which is between Matter and Form; since the Soul, which is before, is able to preexist of itself; and whatever things come into it supervene to a Thing already existing. Nor that which is between Substance and Quantity; since Quantity is in a Thing, as somewhat of it; but things known are in the Knower as other things which preexist out of him. 3. 'Tis, therefore, a special manner of divisibility which is not exactly found in bodies: For, since a body essentially includes a power or possibility, the unity of a body is by the privation of act on one side; whence follows the unity of act in the Compound: But, a separated Soul is composed only of Act or Quiddity, as white or hot, and Existence or Being, as when we say, 'tis: whence, its unity to another actually existing must be, so, as an act can be joined to an act, that is, by identification or a community of Being: and, after this manner, are in a separated Soul whatever are in it. 4. Whence, first, this is evident, that a separated Soul knows itself: For, since, to be in another, by way of knowing, is distinguished, in this, from the other manners of inexisting; that, in others, what inexists is now no Thing in itself, but that's in which it is; things known, by inexisting, lose not the being what they were, though they acquire the being of that which they were not: for, Heat, in that which is hot, is something of the Subject, nor has any proper Being of its own; but, the hot Subject which is felt is, so, in him that's sensible of it, that he knows 'tis hot; therefore, this Subject to be actually hot is in the person that's sensible of it. 5. In like manner, the Soul exists substantially, because Being is made something of the Soul. Again, this, that the Soul is, is in the Soul: for, since the Soul is a certain Power of being all things that exist; and itself also exists; it cannot but, by reason of its intimate conjunction, be present to itself according to this its power, which is that it cannot but be understood. 6. Again, since all those things are in the Soul which we have, above, recounted; they must needs be, too, all known in the Soul: And, because, 'tis clear, that, in a Syllogism, the Conclusion is nothing but the very Premises; all is known by a separated Soul, which is deducible out of those things that are in the Soul. 7. And, because, such is the connexion of Truths, that, out of any one, all others, may, by links, be drawn in; it comes to pass that a Soul, which knows any whatever sensible Truth, knows entirely all cognoscible things; that is, every Soul penetrates absolutely all things. 8. For, if any Infant never knew its own Being, it is not to be esteemed to have arrived at all to the nature of Man: For, since, even in us, to be sensible of or to know is by suffering from another; we know another thing is, because we know we have suffered from it: but, if we know we have suffered from it, we already know we are: the first knowledge, therefore, even in the body, includes the knowledge of ourselves. 9 And, since Passion is a participation of the Thing from which we suffer; it must needs be that the Thing is in us, when we are sensible of it: and, because it does not denominate according to its own proper appellation, but according to the quality of that wherein it is, (for, we do not call an Eye white or wooden, but a Seeer of white or wood); it must needs be that 'tis in it, as another thing, and as of the nature of the sensitive Subject. Now, the reason why in the body, too, the Soul does not know itself, but the Man, a part of whom it is, is because 'tis he that is and not it, as has been said. 10. You'll object, this multiplicity of knowledge is framed or aggregated, either of several knots and articles, as it were, so that whatever was knowable in this world by new discourse, the same is, in some sort, a new addition in the Soul; or of one simple knowledge which, eminently and in one formality, in a manner, comprehends all these knowledges: but, neither of these seems possible; not the first, because 'twould be a certain infinity, either in act, which is impossible, or in power, and then 'twould be some continuity and a principle of continual motion; nor the later, for such an universality seems not to have any thing above it. 11. 'Tis answered, the manner of a separated Soul, in some sort, contains both; though 'tis neither way formally: For, since, the parts in formal composition are not actually; 'tis plain, that neither can there be, in this composition of the knowledge of a separated Soul, formal knots and articles of discourse, & consequently, no actual infinity: Again, since one part is not beyond another, that is, extended, as in quantity, but all, by a certain identificaon, grow together; there can be no continuity between, though the parts be in power, that is, only in the possibility of the Subject. 12. Besides, that this power is not such that there should be any correspondent natural cause to reduce it into act: but, 'tis only a certain defectibility of act, upon which there's no active power but only a Logical or a Creative one, which will never act. 13. 'Tis, therefore, a certain actual Metaphysical composition, in which there is a Logical possibility that any of these later known things may be away, without hurting those that were known before; yet so, that it can never come to pass it should be reduced into act: Wherefore, 'tis neither the precise contemplation of one formality precontaining infinite; nor yet any actual infinity, or natural divisibility. 14. But, it may be compared to the Metaphysical composition of degrees; in which we see Peter or Bucephalus so agree with infinite Things or Animals, that it contracts thence no multiplicity, and yet we may always frame some new apprehension of them in our Mind. LESSON III. Of the eminency of a separated Souls acts, above those it exercises in the Body. 1. OUt of what has been said, it may be evidenced, that simple Intuition or the inexistence of a thing in the Soul serves, in stead of that composition which is found, here, in our judgements. 2. It appears, also, that an actual universal intuition of Things supplses, abundantly, any need of Discourse. 3. 'Tis plain, too, that, with that, there's no want of Memory or Remembrance; there's no need of ordering or framing Ideas; and lastly, whatever the Soul operates, here, by distinct acts and in time, there, together and with one only labour, (not so much, is wrought out, as) exists. 4. Again, whereas, by reslexion, those things we have, in the body, thought on, we farther know that we have thought on them; so that we can never know the last reflection, though we had infinite: a separated Soul, by the simple inexistence of itself in itself, necessarily see's all its knowledge without any reflection. 5. Again, 'tis plain, that a separated Soul, in another manner, excels Place and Time, then in the Body: since, in that, it only abstracts from them, but, out of that, it comprehends them. For, this universal and actual knowledge places all Place and all Time within the Soul; so that it can act in every place at once and together (as far as concerns this respect), and provide for all time; wherefore, 'tis, in a manner, a Maker and Governor of time and place. 6. It appears, moreover, that 'tis active, out of its very self: for, since it comprehends all things, it needs not Sense, as in the body, to perceive that infinity of Individuality; but it knows, even, to the utmost divisibility of Magnitude, whatever circumstances are required to action: It knows, too, what is good for itself; whence, it, naturally & of itself, has both power and an actual will, which alone are required to act; for power depends on pure Science, and whoever is impotent is ignorant what is to be done, by him, to produce such an effect. 7. Hence, lastly, it follows, that the proportion of Pleasure and Grief, out of the body, is infinite, to that in the body: For, since Pleasure is nothing else, but a judgement concerning a good possessed, out of which follows an activity to enjoy and retain it; and Grief is the same, concerning an ill, which the Soul desires to repel: Whether we contemplate the Manner of the Souls Being, to which its acts are proportioned; 'tis of a superior notion, that is, of an infinite eminency. 8. Or, the Firmness and Evidence of its Knowledge; since all knowledge receives strength from antecedents and consequents, it must of necessity attain an infinite excellency: for every knowledge of a separated Soul has infinite things connected with it, out of which 'tis confirmed. 9 Or, its Eminency above Time and Place; 'tis raised in a like degree: Or, lastly, its force of Activity; 'tis beyond all comparison. Wherefore, to the least, either Pleasure or Grief, of the Future life, even abstracting from the Perpetuity, nothing can be comparable in this mortal state, or considerable in respect of it. 10. Again, 'tis collected, out of what has been said, that all separated Souls, or, at least, the most part are improved in this, that whatever false judgements they have taken up in the whole course of their lives, they throw them off by Separation: For, since, the excellency of a separated Soul is immense above the powers of an embodied one, & the connection of all Truths is, immediately upon the Separation, imprinted in it; it must needs be that a true judgement of all things is impressed: since, therefore, Contradictories cannot consist together in the Soul, the false judgements must be expelled; and Souls, as to this, be universally improved. 11. Nor, is it less evident that, among Souls, there will be some difference, by reason of the employments they have followed in their life time: For, since, whilst we live in the body, one exercises his Understanding more about one thing, another about another; and, as, the first act works a knowledge of the thing, so, the following acts cannot but increase this knowledge and more perfectly impress it upon the Soul: It follows, since all these must needs participate of the elevation caused by the Separation; the Soul must know more perfectly, too, in Separation, its accustomed Objects and whatever depend on them, in a due proportion, than other things; whence, it comes to pass, that the Sciences here acquired, not only, remain in the future life, but, are in the same proportion, there, as they were, here. LESSON IU. Of the Felicity and Infelicity of separated Souls, and their Immutability. 1. ANd, because the Affections in the Soul are nothing else but judgements, upon which operation does or is apt to follow; and the stronger the judgement is, so much the apt operation is to follow out of it, if it be a judgement concerning good or ill: it comes to pass, that our Affections to our Acquaintance and Friends, and the rest which we have cultivated in this life, shall remain in the future: wherefore, we shall both better know and more rejoice in our Parents and Friends, then in others, (other circumstances alike). 2. And, because the Affections shall remain, & that, in the proportion they were in, during life: it follows, that those who have, in this life, delighted in those things & Sciences, which the Soul is apt and fit to enjoy in Separation, (for example, in natural Contemplation, or that of abstracted Spirits, especially, if with great affection), will have a vast Pleasure in the State of Separation, through the perfection of the knowledge they'll enjoy. 3. But, those that have given themselves up wholly to corporeal pleasures will be affected with vast Grief, through the impossibility of those pleasures, there. 4. You'll object, that separated Souls will see the unworthiness of such pleasures, and consequently, will correct in themselves such erroneous and false judgements, nor will have such appetites as would torment them. 'Tis answered, these griefs follow not out of false, but inordinate judgements; for, 'tis true, that such like pleasures are a good of the body and of the Man (whose appetite is the appetite of the Soul); again, supposing the deordination of the Soul, 'tis true, that these pleasures are conformable and good, even to it: but grief follows, hence, that the judgements or affections about these are greater, then in proportion to those other desires, which ought to be preferred before them. 5. Whence, it comes to pass, that the Soul's seeing these objects to be unworthy and not regardable, in comparison of the better, increases its pains; whilst it can neither cease to desire those it desires, through the excess of these affections above the rest, and yet sees they are vile and unworthy. 6. Moreover, out of what has been said, 'tis deduced, that, in the state of separation, no variety can happen to Souls, from a body, or the change of bodies: For, since a change passes not from any body into the Soul, but through the identification of the Soul with its own body; and this identification ceases, by the state of Separation; it follows, that no action nor mutation can be derived from any Body, to the Soul. 7. Nor, has the Soul, of itself, a principle of changing itself: not from hence only, because an Indivisible cannot act upon itself: but also, because, since a mutation of the Soul cannot be any other, then, either according to the Understanding or Will; but the Understanding is supposed to know all things together and forever, whence, by the course of nature, there's no room left either for ignorance or new Science; and the Will is either not distinct from the Understanding or, at least, is adequately governed, in the state of separation: it follows, that naturally no mutation can happen to a separated Soul from within, or caused by itself. 8. Nor, yet, from any other Spirit, without the interposition of the body: For, since all Spirits are indivisible, their operations, too, will be such; but an indivisible effect, supposing all the causes, of necessity exists in the same instant: wherefore, if any thing be to be done between Spirits, 'tis all, in one instant, so done and perfected, that, afterwards, another action cannot be begun: for if it begin, either the causes were, before, adequately put, or not; if they were, the effect was put; if they were not, some of the causes is changed that it may now begin to act, and not this, but the former, is the first mutation, whereof, 'tis to be urged, whether the causes were put before? 9 If you say, the Spirit waits a certain time: First, time is motion and not without a body: Then, since, among Spirits, nothing is changed by time, one that acts according to reason could not expect a time by which nothing could be changed. Certain, therefore, it is, that There can be no change, by the power of nature in a separated Soul. 10. From the collection of all has been said concerning the Soul, 'tis deducible, that Our life is a Mould or a March to our Eternity; and, according as a Man behaves himself in this life, such an Eternity he shall, hereafter, possess: since Good-deeds and Rewards, Crimes and Punishments are equally eternal. 11. To conclude, He that has lived perfectly shall be perfect in the future life, he that has lived better shall be better, he that has lived well shall be well; he that has lived ill shall be ill, he that has lived worse shall be worse, they that live worst they, too, shall be worst of all for ever: so true it is that THINGS WILL NOT BE ILL GOVERNED, that is, their very Nature exacts and forces them into a good Government. LESSON V. Of the nature of Existence, and its Unity with the Thing. 1. OUt of what has been said, 'tis clear, that all bodies and a separated Soul itself, sometimes, are and, time was, they were not: whence, 'tis evident, that the notion of Being or Existence is different from the notion of that Thing whereof 'tis affirmed; since, 'tis denied, too, of it, and since, of all Substances that are so different, 'tis said, according to the same notion, that they are. 2. Besides, if, for Peter or a Man not to be, were the same, with Peter not to be Peter or a Man not to be a Man; 'twere a proposition destructive of itself, and, consequently, impossible; but now 'tis prudent and pertinent to Sciences. 3. Neither would there any one and the same thing be a Subject of contradictory enunciations, or of affirmation and negation; and consequently, the art of Logic and the foundation of all humane discourse would be taken away: Nothing, therefore, is more evident than that Existence is distinguished, mentally or by definition, from the Thing whereof 'tis spoken. 4. But yet, that it should differ, really, actually and, as it were, numerically or in the Subject, from the Thing whose 'tis, 'tis equally impossible: since, so, they would either of them be Things; B. 4. Les. 2. the whole, n. 1. therefore, would not be one and a Thing, as above, in the like case, is deduced. 5. Notwithstanding, since a Thing really acquires and loses existence, (for, to be made is to receive, to be dissolved is to lose existence); 'tis evident, there's a real divisibility between a Thing and Existence. 6. But, this divisibility is less than any of those, hitherto, explicated: both because, in separation, neither part of the Compound remains; as also, because existence out of a Compound is not intelligible, since 'tis its ultimate actuality or actuation. And, as 'tis commonly said, that Union cannot be understood out of Composition, nor Action without a Term; so, neither can Being without it actually be, and consequently, make those things be which are by it. 7. Lastly, 'tis evident, that existence is the perfection of every and all Things; since, the notion of all Substances (as 'tis explicated above) is nothing else but to be such a capacity of existing: B. 4. Les. 2. n. 1. whence, they have the notion of a power to that; or rather, the notion of an as-it-were (a quasi-) possibility, since they have a virtue terminative of the understanding (that we call to be a quiddity) which a possibility has not. 8. Notwithstanding, because this notion is nothing else, but a disposition and preparation to existing; Existence is not only the perfection, but, if it were perfect, it would be the whole perfection of any Thing whose it were. 9 It follows out of what has been said, that no Thing, of those that sometime are sometime are not, is of itself; but, all require some other thing to make them exist: For, since they are sometime and sometimes are not, 'tis evident, the notion in them, which is presupposed to Being, and whereof 'tis said it is, is, of itself, indifferent to Being and not-Being; and, which follows, this notion being put, Being is not put or the Thing is not, in force of this notion; and something else, therefore, is required, which being put, Being must necessarily be applied to that notion: 'Tis from without, therefore, that these Things exist, and not from their own intrinsical nature and force. 10. And, because this notion has not its indifferency from otherwhere, but from itself; as long as it has Being, so long an extrinsecall cause must make it exist: for, since its necessity of existing is from something without, that extrinsecall being taken away, it is no longer: And, because from an indifferent nothing follows, its exexisting is not derived from any intrinsical; and, which follows, if, the extrinsecall being taken away, it should exist, this, its existing, would be an effect without a cause. LESSON VI. Of the Existence, Simplicity, and Eternity of GOD. 1. AGain, it follows, there is some Thing, for whom 'tis impossible not to exist: For, since an effect is because another is, 'tis clear, the same cannot be the cause of itself: nay, if two should be put, as, adequately, cause and effect to one another, the same would be put as cause of itself; for, if A be because B is, and B again because A is, 'tis clear, that A is because A is, that is, 'tis cause and effect to itself. 2. Wherefore, since those things that may notbe need an extrinsecall cause to Be; nor can all things have an extrinsecall cause, unless some two be, reciprocally, causes to one another: it follows, there must be something which needs not an extrinsecall cause; and consequently, must have, from its intrinsecalls, that it cannot notbe, and for which it must be impossible not to Bebritia 3. Again, since an impossibility of not-existing imports and carries Existence along with it; and this impossibility is intrinsecall and essential to the Thing in which it is; it follows, too, that Existence is essential to such a Thing. 4. And, since existence is equally universal with the notion of Being or Thing, that is, every Thing has an existence correspondent to it, which it may actually have; and Being is the most universal predicate of that wherein 'tis; it follows, that Existence is the most universal predicate of the Thing to which 'tis essential. 5. But, on the other side, because Existence being put, the Thing is complete, as to its essence; nor can any essential predicate supervene to that which exists, but all are presupposed to existence: 'tis clear, that, to the most generical notion of a Thing to which Existence is essential, there can no essential Difference supervene; and consequently, that, between Things to which existence is essential, there can be no essential difference, that is, but One only such Thing can exist. 6. There is, therefore, some Thing essentially existing of itself; from which, being but One only, all other Things must, of necessity, receive their birth and existence: Now, such a Thing we conceive to be that we call GOD: There is therefore, a GOD. 7. The notion, therefore, of God's existing is, that his existence or essence is diametrically and contradictorily opposed to not-Being: not, in the Understanding, as a Chimaera is opposed to a non-Chimaera; nor, in possibility, as a man to not-a-man; nor, in an irradiate act, as it were, and impressed like a Seal in water, as our being and not-being, running and not-running: but, in the thing itself, by the highest and ultimate actuality, substantially, by the very essence of Being and exercising, by the very notion of existing, itself substantially and concentrally within itself and about itself and upon itself reflected, exercised, and exercising. 8. This is the solidity and stability of the First thing and GOD; whilst, the stability of all the rest is no other, but to depend and Be from Him. 9 Out of what has been said, is deduced the most eminent Simplicity and Indivisibility of God. For, since existence is essential to him; and there can be nothing in a Thing, neither before nor after existence; 'tis clear, that God is so Existence, that he is nothing besides, formally. 10. Therefore, He is not corporeal or composed of parts excluding one another: for, a Body, since it has a Being in parts, of necessity includes something besides Existence, divisible from that. 11. The same is for composition of Matter and Form, Subject and Accidents; for these, since they include something divisible from Being, cannot be pure existers. 12. Nor is there any room for composition of Genus and Differentia; since, Difference supervenes to a Genus, at least, with a foundation in the Object for so apprehending it. there's, therefore, absolutely, no composition at all in God. 13. But, whatever composition there is in our Understanding concerning God, proceeds out of the pure defect of our understanding, which cannot adequate the Simplicity of the Divine Essence. GOD, therefore, is pure Being, pure Actuality, the pure Brightness of eternal Light. 14. Again, hence 'tis deduced that God is Eternal, or, that there is not in God past and future, but only present. For, since God cannot notbe, by reason of the essential exercise of his Being; and, has this essentially, that he cannot not-have-been nor not-be-to-be, but possesses his essence indivisibly: it comes to pass, that 'tis the same thing to God not to-not-have-been and not not-to-be, as to Be what He is; but, there cannot be, either by imagination or in time, an instant supposed, in which God possesses not his Essence; in every moment, therefore, of time whether real or imaginary, He is his not not-to-have-been and his not not-to-be hereafter, that is, his to-have-been and his to-be. 15. In every instant of time, therefore, He is in every instant of time past and future: not, that the time past and future are; but, that the indivisible existence of God possesses all that length, which passing times make, contracted▪ by the eminency of his Simplicity, in an indivisible act; and never either loses or gains, because His repugnancy to not-Being is actual Being, and Actually-to-Be is his Essence. LESSON VII. Of the Perfection, Immutability, and Science of God. 1. FArther, the Perfection and Plenitude of God is deduced, that is, whatever goodness and perfection is possible, all this is eminently found in God. For, since existence cannot receive existence from another, but is by its own force; 'tis plain, that whatever existence is and whatever perfection is in existence has its Being from that power▪ by which existence exists: the whole perfection, therefore, of existence is in that existence which is of itself and by its own notion; but this existence is, as has been said, the very essence of God; wherefore, in God, there is all the perfection which is't in existence or can be in it. 2. Since, therefore, whatever is in any Thing, besides Existence, is nothing else but a disposition to existence, or a capacity of it, or a compart in which and by which imperfect existence is to subsist: 'tis clear, too, that perfect existence subsisting includes, more eminently and perfectly, all this perfection, and consequently, that All the Plenitude of Being is in God. 3. Besides, since God or Being-of-it-self is but One alone; whatever is besides must, of necessity, receive Beginning, Goodness or perfection from Him: but, that the adequate cause contains all the perfection of its effect is, of itself, evident: all that ample and inexhaustible plenitude, therefore, of entire Being is in God and flows from Him. 4. Out of these foresaid Attributes of God, his Immutability is demonstrated: For, from this Plenitude of Perfection, He is Immutable; because he can neither acquire nor lose any thing. 5. From his Simplicity, again, he is Immutable; because all mutation includes▪ a divisibility of that which is changed, from that according to which it is changed. 6. And lastly, from His Eternity, he is Immutable; because what is changed has sometime and sometime has-not the same thing; but, what God has he has indivisibly for ever, and, in that very respect, he cannot not-have it. 7. Out of the premises, too, 'tis collected, that God knows & understands both Himself and all other things, by his one only essential act of Being. For, since God is Existence itself & the Plenitude of Being, nothing can belong to existence which is not primarily in Him: since, therefore, to know, is to have the thing known, after a certain proper manner of existing, in one's self; God cannot notbe in Himself, after this manner of existing, that is, not-be-known by Himself. 8. Again, since all other things are in God; but, to inexist as another thing, is a perfecter manner of inexisting then simply to inexist; it appears, that all other things in God inexist after this manner, too, that is, are known. 9 Nor, does this any thing prejudice the divine Simplicity: For, since those things that are known inexist as another thing, the bounds and divisions of the Creatures in God are as other things, and produce not their effect, viz. of distinguishing, in Him; but, their being in Him has nothing whereby one should be opposed to another; as appears even in us, in whom two Contraries inexist together, that the one may be known by the other. 10. It appears, too, that God knows other things, in his own Essence: which, since it may doubly be understood; one way, that His essence should be the Principle of the knowledge of other things; and another way, that the knowledge of the Creatures should be, as it were, a part of the knowledge of His essence: 'tis to be taken this second way. 11. For, since the Essence of God is not from another, but by its own formal power of existing; 'tis plain, its manner of existing is opposite to the being from another: there ought not, therefore, to be put any Virtual causality, whereby one should be from another in God; because, whatever is in Him is because it is, or by virtue of self-being. 12. You'll say, the Creatures are something distinct and another thing from God; wherefore, the knowledge of them, too, is distinct from the knowledge of God. 'Tis answered, by denying the consequence: for, some distinct things are of that condition, that the knowledge of one is part of the knowledge of another; and so it happens in the present case. 13. For, since God cannot know his Essence, unless he know his Science and the, as it were-vertuall parts of his Essence; and, since the Creatures flow immediately from God, without any other help; it comes to pass, that God is a Cause actually causing by His essence: 'tis plain, therefore, that part of the knowledge of the essence of God is, to know that He actually causes such Creatures, which includes, that such Creatures exist: part, therefore, of the knowledge of the divine Essence is to know the Creatures exist, in all their differences and circumstances. 14. Again, the universal answer is evident to all those questions, Whether God knows Future contingents? the secrets of Hearts? Infinite things? Materia prima? Negations? Mental or imaginary things? etc. 15. For, 'tis evident, as far as these are apt to exist and to be known, so far they proceed from God; and the knowledge of them is part of the knowledge of God: but if, on any side, they have no entity nor cognoscibility, so far they are not known by God: But, to inquire, of each of them, what cognoscibility they may have, belongs to their proper places, not to this of the Science of God. LESSON VIII. Of the Divine Volition and Liberty. 1. NOr is it less evident, out of what has been said, that, since God, operating by Existence, of necessity applies himself to the particularities of the Creatures, (since Particulars only can exist); and more things cannot be in one but by Science; that, I say, He makes the Creatures by his Science: wherefore, since Science, when 'tis so perfect as to be able to proceed into action, is called Will; 'tis clear, that there is a Will in God. 2. And, since the Science of God is every way perfect, it appears, by the same evidence, that there is all the perfection of Will in God, or, all Moral Virtues, as far as they follow out of pure perfection. He is, therefore, Gracious, Just, Merciful, Patient, and whatever other use to be pronounced of Him; out of the eminent perfection of his Essence, as 'tis called Science. 3. And, since Liberty is among the Perfections of Will, by which the Will or the Person that knows chooses one out of many, according to the Principles of his proper nature; and, the Science of God is larger and more ample than His Operation; nor is there any thing, out of himself, by which he can be impelled to operate this more than that; 'tis clear, that God, freely and according to his innate inclination, chooses and operates this rather than that. 4. You'll object, since God is a pure Act, there cannot be put in God a natural inclination, according to which election may be made; because it would have the notion of a Principle in respect of the act of election: there cannot, therefore, be put Liberty in God. 'Tis answered, there cannot be put, in God, election in fieri, or, to-be-made, but only in facto esse, or, already made, that is, such a Will as is election already in act; and to this there is not required the notion of cause and effect. 5. Moreover, natural inclination, as 'tis put in God, is not any active principle, but a certain common and abstracted notion by which we know God; and, to which, that more particular notion is conformable, according to which we attribute the name of election to God: as, for example, to this Volition, by which God will's that which is best, the volition of the World's Creation is conformable, by which is chosen the best in particular. 6. You'll object, again, since God essentially has all Virtues, He always does, of necessity, that which is best; and would do against his own Essence, should he do any thing otherwise then he does: 'Tis, therefore, determined to him essentially, to do every thing as he does: but, that which proceeds out of Nature and Essence is not free: God, therefore, does nothing freely. 7. 'Tis answered, Even in us, after we see any thing to be better, 'tis against Nature to do the contrary: neither are we free, because we can decede from nature; for, so, Liberty would not be a perfection but an imperfection, since all perfection is according to nature: but, Liberty consists in this, That, among many, which, at the beginning, seem indifferent, we can find which is more according to nature; and embrace that, because 'tis conformable to Naure. 8. Therefore, in God, too, Liberty is, so, to be put, that it be understood He has arrived, by his Science and understanding, to act what is conformable to his nature: and though, after He's supposed to have arrived to that, 'tis against His essence to do another thing or not to do this; yet, His Liberty is not, thence, diminished: as, there is not less liberty in a constant Man, that changes not his judgement once established, then in a Fool, that, at every little appearance of reason, altars his opinion, but a greater; for, a constant Man, therefore, changes not, because he always exercises his wisely-made choice, that is, the better, whereas a light person exercises now the worse, now the better. 9 Again, for the most part, those things that are-not-chosen are not against the nature of the chooser, in themselves, but from some Accident or complex of circumstances; whence, the terms precisely considered, the chooser may do them according to nature, but, because of some circumstance, he cannot: And, even thus, Liberty may be attributed to God; for, to do some particular thing, which he does not, is not against the nature of God precisely compared to this Thing; but, when the other circumstances are collected, it appears another thing is better, and then 'tis against the nature of God to do this: yet, this prejudices not His Liberty; which consists in this, that He rejects that which, in itself, is according to His nature, because, by accident, 'tis against it; which we experience in ourselves to be the tract and path of Liberty. 10. You'll say, that God is determined by the very Being of his Essence; and, so in Him can be understood no indifferency to the utmost circumstance. 'Tis answered, this hinders not but that we are necessitated to conceive That perfectly-determined Essence, by divers abstractive notions; in one of which this determination is not, so precisely and by design, expressed as in another; and so, to us, the more particular of them becomes the determination of the more common; and of both is compounded the notion of liberty exercised in God. 11. You'll object, thirdly, If God were free, he could not-doe what he does; therefore, 'twere possible for him not to have the Volition and Science which He has; 'tis possible, therefore, there should notbe the same God. 'Tis answered, by granting God can make that which He does not; but, by denying the consequence, that He could have another volition than he has: for, when we say, God can make another thing than He does, we compound the Power of God or His fecundity with the Object whereof we speak; but, when we speak of his Volition, we speak of his Understanding completed to action, and This proceeds to action upon the consideration of all accidents, out of which, as 'tis said, it happens that this object is not made, because 'tis not-best and against Nature. 12. 'Tis, therefore, to be denied that there can be in God another act of volition, or, that his Will is indifferent to this and another act; though his effective power, taken abstractedly, is indifferent to more, because it respects the only notion of Being, or, Thing, in them: And thus, 'tis evident, how there is not, thence, inferred any possible mutability in God. 13. You'll say, His Will, abstractedly taken, is indifferent, too, to more acts. 'Tis answered, we speak not of the Will as it means the faculty, to be abstracted in God; but of the Will as it signifies the act or Volition; and that always imports that the last determination is made, though it expresses not what 'tis: whence, the notion of it is different from his Omnipotency, which, because 'tis referred to things without, does not of necessity imply the second act. LESSON IX. Of the Divine Names, how they are improperly spoken of God. 1. OUt of what has been said, hitherto, of God, we find farther, that the Names which we attribute to God are all imperfect, and, not one of them all has any notion whose formal object is in God. For, since God is a most Simple Entity, precontaining in one most simple formality, the whole plenitude of Being, that is, the objects of all our notions & the significations of all our Names: 2. And is, too, Existence subsisting; but we have but one only name and notion of existence, which signifies nothing besides: 'Tis clear, that our names do infinitely come short of the most simple essence of God; both in their generical notion, because God is in none of our Predicaments; in their integrity, because no name of ours represents all that is in God; and in their form, because none of our apprehensions have a formal likeness in God. Whatever, therefore, we pronounce of God, must needs be applied to Him improperly and by an accommodation of the name. 3. Whence, again, 'tis clear, that all the names, which are spoken promiscuously of Created things and God, are spoken analogically; and their primary signification is that in which they are spoken of the Creatures: For, 'tis evident, that men first imposed it on created things, and of them they have, in some manner, perfect notions; and consequently, names attributed according to those notions are, in some sort, proper: but, they are infinitely far from explicating the Divinity: whence, it cannot be doubted, but they are more properly pronounced of the Creatures then of God. 4. You'll object, Perfections simply-simple are formally in God, and more originally in Him then in the Creatures: names, therefore, signifying these, are more originally spoken of God then of the Creatures. 'Tis answered, that, 'tis evident, all names whatever are translated from the Creatures to God; whence, there can be no doubt which signification is the former: but besides, 'tis false that there are Perfections simply-simple (as Divines term them) in created things, which can be signified by humane names; but those things which are simply, that is, for-themselves-purely, desirable by us, we call simply-simple perfections, and, through ignorance, think they are simply desirable by every Thing. 5. But, there's none of these formally in God, as 'tis proved; and, if any were, formally, than the same name would signify God and a Creature, in the same signification, and would be univocal. Nor imports it, that these perfections descend from God: for so do all others, which yet they know are metaphorically transferred. 6. This notwithstanding, the names which are spoken of God are truly spoken, and it may be argued from one to another in Him: For, since he that speaks knows he understands not what that is which he signifies by this name; but knows 'tis such as has effects, like those proceed from that perfection, which is called by this name in Creatures: 'tis clear, that this name truly, both signifies what is in God, because the speaker means to signify this; and, in some sort, makes known God to us, since it manifests God to be something, whence such like effects proceed, as from a just, a merciful etc. Man. 7. And, since such effects contain others in them, or produce them out of themselves, or they accompany them: 'tis clear again, from the affirmation of the said names, we may proceed to the affirming others; which may signify, that the consequent effects, too, have their root in God, or, something conformable to their root in Men. 8. You'll object, at least, There are three kinds of names, which are pronounced properly of God: Proper names, which agree not to any other, as, to be GOD, Omnipotent, Omniscient, and the like, which suit not with any Creature, & consequently, are, of necessity, attributed properly to God: next, Relatives, as, to be a Creator, Lord, judge, etc. which, being they speak only an extrinsecall denomination from their effect, it cannot be doubted but they are properly pronounced, since, doubtless, their effects are from Him: lastly, Negative names, which, since they only deny something of God, cannot be counted improper; such are, to be incorporeal, immaterial, infinite, immense, etc. 9 'Tis answered, Even these names, too, are improperly spoken of God. For, first, those which seem to be Properly spoken of God include something common to be the basis of what is superadded, which makes a Proper name; since, therefore, that common is improperly spoken, that proper, too, which includes that common, is improperly spoken: as, when God is called Omniscient, the Searcher of Hearts, etc. if Science be improperly spoken, then Omniscient, if a Searcher, Powerful, etc. then Omnipotent and Searcher of hearts are spoken improperly; and the same is of the notion, GOD, whether we take it for a comprehension of all, or whatever else. 10. Again, 'tis false that Relative names speak nothing intrinsecall, but only an extrinsecall denomination: for, they signify a proportion and a community of the nature of things, which have either an unity or coordination in acting & suffering, or a natural subjection; which, if they are not in the things, (as, in God, in respect of his Creatures, they cannot be), at least, they are in the Soul, since they are expressed in words; and consequently, even such Names, too, are improperly pronounced. 11. Lastly, Negative names, when they are simple, signify some positive disposition; as, to be blind or lame express a vicious and defective disposition of the Legs or Eyes: and so likewise, to be incorporeal, immaterial, infinite etc. in God, explicate a difference of Substance distinct from corporeity and limitedness, that is, a difference under the same genus; whence, they are improperly spoken of God. 12. But, if a purely-negative proposition were pronounced of God, it would not be improper: Whence, that Science which inquires into the Impropriety of the names which are spoken of God, and denies all things of Him, is the most sublime and proper of all. LESSON X. Of the degrees of impropriety in the Divine Names. 1. OUt of what has been said, 'tis easily determined which names are, more or less improperly, pronounced of God. For, there being three degrees of them, The first, of those which signify things the most excellent in and simply desirable by men; such as are those we call the Virtues, both Moral and Intellectual: The second degree, of those Goods of the same persons, but participated in others which include imperfection; such as are the goods of Animals or the other Things below Man: lastly, The third, of those which signify directly and formally imperfection: 2. N. 5, 6, etc. 'Tis clear, these last are most shamefully attributed to God, and only by ignorance: but, the middle ones, by translation, that a name should be, as it were, first by a common Metaphor, used tosignify some Virtue and, then again that borrowed signification, should be transferred to God; for example, when we call a Man a Lamb for being Meek, a Lion for courageous, we pretend, too, to call God a Lamb and a Lion, by the same right as we, before, called Him meek or courageous. 3. You'll ask, since both the names of courageous and a Lion are improperly spoken of God, why this should be esteemed spoken symbolically and metaphorically, and that properly? 'Tis answered, that, in the Creatures we see both the terms, and, therefore, we easily discern when a name is spoken metaphorically and not properly; for we see a Lion to be another thing than Courage: but, when names are transferred to God, one of the extremes is obscure to us, and consequently, the translation, too. 4. Moreover, in a Lamb, a Lion, etc. besides meekness and courage, there are many other things, which 'tis not the intention of the speaker to transfer: but, in meekness and fortitude, there's nothing but their own particular notions; wherefore, it seems that, of necessity, either they must be in God to whom they are applied, or else the name cannot be at all pronounced of him: and, therefore, many think these are formally in the Divinity; though they mistake. 5. Out of what has been said, 'tis deduced, that some things cannot be attributed to God, which yet are commonly spoken of Him. First, a Distinction, whether formal or virtual, between his Predicates: for, they that affirm these things observe not that Distinction is a name of negation and imperfection; whence, for these to be in Him, either virtually or eminently, is as much as that He can be nothing or defect. 6. Worse, yet, is the notion of Cause and Effect, in respect of Himself, attributed to God; for example, that his Attributes flow virtually from his Essence, that He understands other things because He understands himself, that He wills the means because He wills the end, and the like: for, 'tis clear, that the notion of an effect, likewise, speaks imperfection; whence, 'tis no eminency to precontain it. 7. Like this 'tis, to put Instants either of nature or Intellectual, in one of which some thing should be and another thing notbe in God, till the next instant: for, by this, there is put a posteriority in God, which is imperfection. 8. But, foulest of all, God is put to suppose Creatures, or to depend on them, whether possible or actual; as, when 'tis said, the Intuitive Vision of God supposes the futurition of Creatures; that God knows not a free act but in its existence; that a conditionate futurition is presupposed, before the disposition of the divine Providence; and such like: which, since they make the Divine essence, really, both posteriour to and depending upon Creatures, are intolerable and absurd. 9 The Imperfections, too, either of the Things God has made or of our Understanding, they unwarily cast upon God: as, when God wills the Means should be for the End, they weakly suspect that He wills the Means because He wills the End; when any one act of God is conceived by us, we not conceiving another, they believe that there is something in God, too, whence one notion may be, though another be supposed not-to-be. 10. It appears, out of what has hitherto been said, that, of all the names attributed to God, the name of BEING sounds least imperfection: for, both it stands in the highest degree of Actuality, whereas the rest speak Act only; and 'tis most Universal, whence it has this, both to contain all things and not to be bound to differences, and therefore, to include the plenitude of perfection: and lastly, Being or Existence is perfecter than Essence, which is nothing but a capacity to that; but, all other things are in the order of Essences and more imperfect. LESSON XI. Of the Existence, Nature, and Science of INTELLIGENCES. 1. OUt of the premises, 'tis easily collected, that there is some Substance, by its nature and originally, incorporeal: For, since God alone is Being of himself, and whatever is produced participates existence from Him, and Existence, among those things which integrate a Thing, is the least unlike God, and is the most perfect and supreme; it appears, that all other things which are in a Thing are caused by God, by the means of Existence, and that alone immediately flows from God; and, by consequence, nothing is immediately made by God, which is not in the Creature in virtue of Existence. 2. Again, 'tis clear, that, supposing whatever Bodies to exist, they, because they are many, must be in a determinate place: and because, the same things being put and none changed, there always remains the same; all Bodies, in virtue of Existence alone, if nothing be changed in them, will always remain in the same place; and consequently, in virtue of God alone and Bodies, there will not any Motion follow. 3. Since, therefore, it appears in bodies, that there is motion; 'tis evident, there is some incorporeal Creature: which, because 'tis required to give the first motion to Bodies, cannot be a separated Soul, whose birth presupposes the motion of Bodies. 4. 'Tis plain, again, that, since this Creature receives its Being from God, of itself it may notbe; & consequently, includes in itself a divisibility of Existence from its Essence. 5. B. 4. Les. 3. N. 6. Again, out of what has been said concerning a Body, 'tis evident, that 'tis not compounded of Matter and Form; and a composition of Existence with any thing above it is impossible, since Existence is the most formal Form of a Thing, and consequently, there can be nothing more formal or superior to it in the Thing whose ' 'tis. 6. Counting, therefore, those things which integrate a Thing or Being, there are three kinds of Things: GOD, filling the highest degree of Existence; Bodies, by their latitude immensly expanding the infinity of Matter; and This middle kind of Act, neither essentially actualized, nor flowing into matter, possessing and filling a kind of middle order of subsisting. 7. 'Tis, therefore, a pure Act, because 'tis not mingled with a substantial power or possibility: 'tis not the purest, because 'tis compounded with Existence, which is a Substantial composition &, as is manifest, common to all but that One Thing of-it-self. 8. Again, 'tis evident, that an incorporeal Creature is Intellective; &, so, actually, Understanding: for, since the necessity of its existence is collected from the motion of Bodies, 'tis evident, it has some power to alter Bodies, that their motion may follow; wherefore, since action proceeds from an Agent as it actually is, that motion of Bodies must, of necessity, be actually in this Creature, & consequently, the Bodies changed. 9 Since, therefore, there's no Matter in this Creature, nor, consequently, any determination of matter, as its motion or quality; it comes to pass, that Bodies are in It as existing in themselves, that is, as another thing: since, therefore, to be known is, to be, as another thing, in another, this our Creature is Cognoscitive; and since, to be known by the notion of Being, or as existing, is to be understood; and movable things are known to exist; the Creature we are in search of is an INTELLIGENCE. 10. It follows, too, that an Intelligence, in its own essence known, knows God and all other things that exist: For, since an Intelligence has whereto an existing thing may be conjoined, retaining the property of its being another; &, it's own Essence existing is intimately conjoined to this power; 'tis clear, that It primarily and formally so inexists. 11. And, since, knowing that its own Essence exists, it must needs see that It exists accidentally; it sees evidently, that It has a Cause of existing, and that such an One as we have been in search of above: It sees, Les. 6, 7, etc. therefore, in its own Essence, that God is, and is such as we have been enquiring after, and far perfecter than we can decipher. 12. It sees, therefore, that nature actually emanes and flows out from Him; and, because it sees what is the End of nature, viz. that so many kinds and subdivisions of Animals should shoot-out and ripen into Spirits of eternal Being; It sees what is necessary for this; and consequently, the whole Plot of the World, and wherein Itself will be useful for it. LESSON XII. Of the comparison of Intelligences to Souls and Bodies. 1. 'tIs clear, too, that an Intelligence has a real divisibility of Essence from knowledge: for, since, 'tis of the notion of the knowledge of its Essence, that it exists, and its existing is divisible from Its essence; much more the knowing its existence, which is posteriour to and supposes its existence; 2. Since, too, its Essence is limited to a certain degree of existence whereof 'tis capable; 'tis clear, the plenitude of Being is not essential to It: Since, therefore, by Its knowledge, It has the plenitude of Being, knowledge is not essential to It: There is, therefore, a non-repugnancy in Its essence to the not-having such knowledge; and consequently, a real divisibility of its Essence against its knowledge. 3. You'll say, that power is in vain which is never reduced to act; but, this divisibility is not reduced to act; therefore, 'tis in vain, & there's none. 'Tis answered, 'tis not a power, but a non-repugnancy, which was in act whilst the Intelligence existed not. 4. Out of what has been said, we are arrived to the comparison of an Intelligence to a separated Soul: for, as they agree, in that they are both immaterial Things, existing by their own existence; so, they disagree, in that an Intelligence is adequate to its existence, but a separated Soul exists by an existence which is, by nature, common to the Body, and consequently, 'tis not adequate to its existence. 5. Again, though both understand their own Essence and, by that, other things; yet 'tis with this difference, that an Intelligence has this knowledge of itself from its manner of existing, but, a separated Soul, Les. 2. N. 8. from its Body: for, when, as 'tis above said, something strikes a man, it makes him know that is, because it strikes him; but, his being struck includes that he is; therefore, in all knowledge, a man must needs know that himself is: The Soul, therefore, has, in its first knowledge, the notice of its own existence and, from the body, receives the knowledge of its Being; which unless it carried along with it, it could not reflect upon itself whilst 'tis separated, because 'tis a power or possibility; for a power is indifferent to an act and non-act, and has neither but by force of an Agent distinct from it. 6. This, therefore, is the universal difference of separated Souls from Intelligences, and proper to them as they are incomplete Spirits: that a Soul, out of the pure notion of its identity with its Intellect, does not inform its Understanding; for, otherwise, it would not be a power: but an Intelligence has this, out of the very genericall manner of its nature, by the force of identity To be present to its intellective virtue. 7. Hence, again, it follows, that a Soul, in virtue of those things which are in it by the communion of the body, is carried to all other things: but, an Intelligence, in virtue of its own Essence existing. 8. A Soul, therefore, even in separation, uses these common notions it finds, impressed in it; and consequently, too, by other such like, attains to the plenitude of Being: but an Intelligence, by the pure degrees of Things, at sight of one Thing, transcends to another, nor needs incomplete notions. 9 Lastly, a Soul, because 'tis naturally the compart of a certain Body, is determined to that, nor can act upon another but by means of the motion and affection of its own Body: and, it affects its proper body by identification; because the impression or alteration of one is, of necessity, the alteration of the other, according to its manner, by reason of their identity. 10. But, an Intelligence is not determined to any Body, but indifferent, and is determined only by choice to this rather than that; and changes that, because, being of itself in act and exercise, the exercise, according as the corporeal nature is subject to It, passes into the Body, by reason the Intelligence is in such a determination. 11. Again, since an Intelligence and a Body are called, univocally, Things, and the notion of existence is found the same in both; and all existence which is a compart with essence is, of necessity, proportioned to a part of Being, and limited: but, between two limited Things under the same univocal notion, there must needs be a proportion: 'tis evident, that Bodies are not infinitely inferior to Intelligences, in the notion of Substance; and consequently, that the action, too, of an Intelligence upon a Body is not but in proportion. 12. And indeed, if the operation of an Intelligence, viz. motion, were supposed unlimited in respect of a Body: it would not be connatural for an Intelligence to move a Body, but to change it instantly, nor for a Body to be moved by It: That nature, therefore, might grow up by continued degrees, there would need a kind of Thing of a middle nature, between Bodies and separated Souls, on one side, as the Sum and fruit of Bodies; and an Intelligence on the other; to which middle Creature it should be connatural to move Bodies. 13. Be it, therefore, certain that an Intelligence's power of moving is limited; but yet, raised, too, above the motive power of a Soul: and immediately 'tis deduced, that, because there are many primarily-moved Bodies and, as it were, Suns; nor is it likely that one Intelligence can move them all; many Intelligences, too, viz. a several, to the several Suns, must be assigned. LESSON XIII. Of the Distinction, Subordination, and Number of Intelligences. ANd, because To be another thing, as another, is the notion of Knowledge, and, out of that, follows the comparative power, or, that many may inexist together; it appears, that the perfection of Understanding is argued from hence, that more may be together in one Understander then in another: but, since, in Intelligences, as also in a separated Soul, all things inexist together; this togethernesse must not be referred to the time but to the way of Knowledge, that they should be accounted together which are contained under one Step or divisibility. 2. Intelligences, therefore, will be essentially distinguished, in that One comprehends the Universe, by fewer links and knots, as it were, than another: so that, the Supreme, by one divisibility, knows whatever is and what, according to the order of nature, can follow out of these; and this capacity follows out of the amplitude and eminency of its Substance: the lowest is that which has, for the several Substances, several divisibilities. 3. 'Tis manifest, out of what has been said, that there is a perfect Subordination amongst the Intelligences: for, the Superiors comprehend the adequate perfection of the Inferiors, and not in part only, as 'tis in Bodies. 4. Moreover, a Superior is active upon a greater body, or more active upon an equal body, than an Inferior: whence, if each be supposed willing to act diversely upon the same body, the Superior will prevail, and the Inferior will not be able to act. 5. It appears, notwithstanding, that this Subordination extends not, to this, that a Superior Intelligence can act upon an Inferior, or chose: for, since there is not in an Intelligence any notion of power or possibility, consequently, neither is there any mutability; but, as Its existence once infused, by reason of the connection with its Form which has not an indifference to more, remains unchangeable as long as its Form; so also, the knowledges of an Intelligence cannot, like Accidents, be present and absent, but, once infused by the power of the Giver, they are subject to no mutation but from Him. Since, therefore, there is no other divisibility of an Intelligence, but either in Its being or its knowing; 'tis evident, It can receive no change from another Intelligence. 6. 'Tis apparent, too, that, because an Intelligence embraces whole nature, by necessary deduction; It has, of necessity, in its very birth, all the good which 'tis ordained to have: since, the good of every thing is that which is according to its nature, and, the whole possible good which can belong to a Creature, whose entire nature is to be intellectual, is to understand: whence, since an Intelligence understands all things by force of its nativity; by the same gift that gives It being, it arrives to the possession of all connatural good. 7. Every Intelligence, therefore, is blessed, in respect of the good it possesses; nor can it lose this Beatitude, more than Its essence with which 'tis conjoined. 8. Lastly, 'tis evident, there are three things chiefly to be considered in Intelligences, Understanding, Will, and Action: among which, Action is the meanest, as being about inferior things; & though, by it, they rule over Bodies as Instruments, yet those things must needs be nobler by which themselves are perfected, which things belong to the Understanding. 9 And, the Will differs no otherwise from the Understanding, than the imperfect Understanding from the perfect: for, when the things that are understood are appropriated to the nature of the understander, and are made something of it, than the Understanding begins to be Will. 'Tis evident, therefore, that the Will is of those intelligible things, the understanding whereof most of all perfects the understander. 10. Wherefore, the greatest nobility of Intelligences is, to excel according to Will; the middle, according to Understanding; the lowest, according to Action: though, 'tis clear, that these notions are so correspondent to one another in Intelligences, that, as much as the Will of one excels that of another, so much, too, must both its Understanding and power of Acting. 11. Now, that the multitude of Intelligences is but finite, 'tis evident from hence, because all Multitude (since it rises and is increased from One by Unities, and Unity cannot be a step from a finite to an infinity) of necessity, is finite. 12. But, since they are not made for the good of another thing, as their End; nor have any thing common, whereby they should naturally respect one another; nor any order of cause and effect; and there is no term, no limits of Understanding: limitation, among them, cannot depend on any other, than the occult proportion of their Natures, by which they integrate the complete order of being without matter. LESSON XIV. Of the Action of GOD, Intelligences, and Bodies, severally. 1. FRom the knowledge of the Agents, by the same steps we are led to the knowledge of their Actions. First, therefore, 'tis evident, out of what has been said, that, since God alone exists of himself and essentially, something flows immediately from Him; and consequently▪ is created, and that God creates: for, 'tis evident, what is made is made out of no presupposed matter; since God himself is mutable, and no Thing, besides, preexists. 2. 'Tis plain, too, this Action is in an instant: for, were it in Time, since, in the intermediate Time, there is no Substance wherein it should be subjected, it would neither subsist nor be in another: wherefore, of necessity, some Substance flows instantaneously from God. 3. 'Tis manifest, therefore, that both the Intelligences and the first Bodies proceed from God, by such Action. 4. Nor must it be asked, by what extrinsecall power they receive birth from God: for, since God is essentially Being itself, 'tis plain, that whatever is required, intrinsically, for God to be a cause actually causing, is essentially found in God; and, since nothing besides himself exists, that which is in Him is of such virtue that the effect follows; wherefore, 'tis a necessary consequence, because the subsistent Being is Being itself, Creatures are, or, if Being be, the Creature is; as if you should say, if the Sun be not capable of its own light, the things about it are illuminated, or, if the Fountain overflows, the neighbourhood is watered. 5. Lesle. 13. n. 5. Again, since an Intelligence can neither act upon God, because He is immutable, nor upon another Intelligence, nor upon a separated Soul, which, as to that, is of the same nature with an Intelligence; its action is wholly about Bodies: And, Action about a Body, if it be compounded of more, is known by the simples whereof 'tis compounded; now, that there are only three simple Actions has been evidenced, (by showing how all Actions are performed) in our Physics, viz. local Motion, Condensation, and Rarefaction. 6. And, for Local Motion, 'tis manifest that 'tis, really, nothing but the division of a Magnitude: and the division of a Magnitude consists both of the conjunction of the dividing body to the divided, and its separation from the body with which 'twas formerly one: to conjunction there's nothing else required, but that no Quantity keep off the Place from what is placed in it, B. 2. Les. 2. N. 7. since Magnitudes between which no other interposes, even by that, are one together; now, that there should not be another between them is a certain negative notion and, by consequence, is not made by an Agent on set purpose, but follows out of the Action of a Body intending another thing, viz. from a body impelling. 7. But, the body impelling either itself changes place, without any other mutation, and then, itself, too, is impelled; or else, from some other mutation only it receives the being impelled, or, without impulse, to impel: Since, therefore, besides division, there are but two simple mutations, Rarefaction and Condensation, and condensation is both a negative action, as being the less'ning of Quantity, nor makes it the body aspire to another's place; 'tis plain, there's no simple, properly called, action in bodies, but Rarefaction. 8. Since, therefore, 'tis clear, that the Action of an Intelligence is a simple and properly an Action, as, that which begins and causes the action of all other bodies; it comes to pass, that the proper Action of an Intelligence upon Bodies is Rarefaction: And, since there's no other action, properly, upon a body, nor has an Intelligence any action upon any other thing but a body; it follows, that Rarefaction alone is the action of an Intelligence. 9 You'll ask, wherein consists this action of an Intelligence upon a body? or, what consequence is this, An Angel wills, therefore a Body is rarefyed? 'Tis answered, out of what has been said, 'tis clear, that an Intelligence, by love or desire, ingrafts the thing to be done into Its own Essence and existence, in a particular manner, as if it were something of Itself: whence, 'tis plain, that the Intelligence, by the act of its own being stands bend to the Body upon which 'tis to act, according to all the circumstances necessary, out of its own knowledge to the Effect. 10. On the other side, 'tis plain, both that the Body is susceptible of the desired effect, and that the effect follows out of, or rather, is but the eminency and excess of its own act, or Form, that is, Quantity, upon matter, nay, of its commonest act or corporeity; as also, that the Body is, in some sort, continued to the Intelligence, by its Form or Substantial act. 11. And, though the act of the Intelligence is of another kind, yet, because the notion of existence, to which both dispose, is the same; the act of the Body must needs, from the assistance of the Intelligence, grow, as it were, and be cheered; and consequently, more overmaster its possibility; and, which follows, the Substance be made rarer, either to the transmutation of the Substantial Form, or within the same nature. 12. We answer, again, 'Tis evident, that, precisely out of the notion of Understanding, there's a connection between the understander and that which is understood: In such an one as receives his Science from the Objects, the Object is the cause of Understanding; in one whose Understanding is His being, the being of the thing understood is from the understanding; lastly, in one whose Understanding is neither his being, nor from the object, but concreated and natural to him, the changes in that which is understood (if it admit of any without the change of existence) may be from him. 13. Next, from hence is understood the operation of a Body, wherein that consists, viz. in nothing else but in the formal power of existing what it is. For, let there be three bodies, A, B, C. following one another between the parallel sides of three places, or of one place equal to all the three; and let an Intelligence rarify A: since that cannot increase, unless either B be diminished or driven on, so long as 'tis easier for B to be condensed then to drive on C, so long B will be condensed; when 'tis arrived to the term of condensation, by little and little it encroaches into the place of C, and force's C to enter into the place of another; till 'tis come into so ample or condensable a field, that the rarefaction of A operates nothing else but condensing the farthest body, and then the motion ceases. 14. The operation, therefore, of A is, to be greater, whence follows A 's being united, according to some part of it, to the place of B: Again, the operation of B is, either to be made less and so only to quit its place, or else, keeping itself in its Quantity, to unite itself with the place of C: Since, therefore, to be united to the place of C is nothing else, but to be a Magnitude between which and the place of C there's nothing interposed; the whole operation of B and A is no other, then to be what they are, by a kind of formal consistence. 15. Because, therefore, a body has no operation but division, 'tis plain, that the whole action of a body is reduced to Being what it is, or a formal consistency in its proportion of Quantity to Matter and its continuity to place; and, that its true power of acting is infused by Intelligences. 16. 'Tis plain, too, that an Intelligence, by that one rarefactive Virtue, can operate whatever is to be done by Bodies: For, since all corporeal action is perfected by division, and division is arrived to by this virtue, all action of a Body is attained to by this virtue. LESSON XV. Of the cooperation of the Agents, to the making of Substances, a rational Soul, and to all other effects. 1. HEnce, we are arrived to the production of Substances: For, since some are produced out of nothing, some out of others preexisting; the former must, of necessity, have flowed immediately from God: The Agent, therefore, which produces out of nothing, makes all the other qualities and conditions of the Thing, by the notion of existence: Existence, therefore, is first in execution; and, since the greater is not made for the less, it must be first, too, in intention. 2. Wherefore, since every Agent, by acting, endeavours to express its own essence upon the effect; the Essence of him that produces out of nothing must be Existence itself. 3. Nor is it to be expected, that another Creature should be made use of, as to preparing the matter; both because Existence is nobler than all the rest in a Thing, whence it admits not of any preparation for the rest, since preparations are only in the base in order to a better: as also, because, existence being put, the Thing is already put: whence, the operation upon nothing is complete by the very putting of existence, and consequently, of that cause alone which puts existence. 4. Supposing, then, that God has created certain Substances; and that, because, of themselves, they are defectible, they always have that being from God; 'tis inferred, that God perpetually pours out the power of being, as the Sun Light. Imagine, now, an accidental transmutation on Body's part, (such as is explicated in our Physical discourse), and, (as 'tis declared above) through certain changes, an arrival to a constancy of being in another degree. 5. It must needs be, that, As, when the Earth is turned to the Sun or Wood laid on the Fire, from the perpetual and minutable action of the Sun or Fire, joined with the mutability of the Earth and Wood, sometimes one sometimes another part of the Earth will be enlightened, and sometimes one sometimes another part of the Wood will burn: So, supposing that natural motions make Matter, in several Sites, sometimes capable of a perfecter existence, sometimes of a more imperfect; from the same constant effusion of existence on God's side, the Substance must needs be sometimes nobler, sometimes more ignoble, respectively. 6. Suppose, farther, an existent body so changed, that the matter may be capable of a Form which, in its essence, includes some notion, that exceeds the power of matter: is it not plain, that, out of the very same constant effusion of existence from God, a Substance will exist which will be, so, corporeal, that 'twill be, in some respect, Spiritual? 7. For, since the putting of existence puts a Thing; purely at the second causes determinating God to the position of such an existence, not that alone is put, but whatever follows out of it, though it exceed the power of second causes: And so, it appears, how, putting the generation of a Man, a rational Soul is put; and how the power of nature so concurres to it, that yet the notion of Creation, or rather of con-creation, supervenes, and is necessary. 8. Lastly, how it both is and isnot ex traduce, and, at once, by Generation and Creation; and how, in this case, an Instrument, in some sort, is made use of for Creation. 9 And, because the internal Dispositions of a Soul, as, to know and to will, even they are indivisible, and follow out of the material impressions made upon the Body: it must needs be that, as the Soul itself follows out of the generation of Man, by the help of the universal Action of God; so these Dispositions, too, from the impression made upon the man, and from the nature of the Soul, must indivisibly alter the Soul. 10. And, whoever would see an evident example of these things, let him conceive how, by cutting, a piece of wood is made more; for, all the time of the cutting, the figure is changed, yet the wood remains, by the same unity, one; but, indivisibly, the cutting being finished, they are, now, two pieces of wood; without the dualities beginning at all, before, or any thing of its nature, but only some variation about the Figure. 11. Out of what has been said, we are deduced to see, how God performs all the works of the Creatures in them. For, first, if we speak of Intelligences, Since their internal operations are nothing else, but to be all other things after a certain manner; 'tis manifest, they are, actually, even to the uttermost positive circumstances, by force of their Creation. 12. For, by force of that, their essence is conjoined to itself, as 'tis a cognoscitive virtue; and, out of this conjunction, the next divisibility, which is, of God to the same cognoscitive virtue, since all the causes are put, is, of necessity, in them. 13. And, what is said of this divisibility is, with the same facilnesse, discovered of all the rest whatever; since they are all connected: their external action, too, Matter, which is its subject, being put, follows, by force of their internal, without any other change in them. LESSON XVI. Of the government of God, and the locality of Incorporeal Things. 1. AS for the rest, the same way leads to the discovery that God is not the cause of any imperfection and not-being, or ill, which is in created things and their action: For, since the action of God is only to infuse Being, and this as much as the Creature is capable; 'tis plain, what there is of Being is to be attributed to God, but what there's wanting of Being is to be refunded into the incapacity of the Subject. 2. And, since the defect of action proceeds out of the defect of the Principle, that is, out of some not-being in the principle; in the same manner, all defect in acting is to be reduced, likewise, into some defect in being of the Creature, and not into God, as its cause. Wherefore, God is the Author of all Good, because all good is from being; but, of no ill, since ill is from not-being. 3. Consequently, 'tis evident, that God cannot annihilate any thing, or withdraw his concourse from the action of any Creature: For, to be able to annihilate is to be able to make a nothing; and, to withdraw his concourse is not to give Being to things created; either of which cannot happen, but from a defect of Goodness and of the overflowing, as it were, of Being in God. 4. You'll say, Therefore, God does not act freely add extra, that is, upon the Creatures: But, Les. 8. this Consequence is to be denied; as 'tis said above, when we treated of the Liberty of God. 5. You'll say again, In the same manner, therefore, it must be said, that God cannot make any thing which He will not make. But, this Consequence, also, is denied; for, his Power is referred to possible things, or, which have entity and intelligibility; and therefore 'tis not to be denied that he can do any thing that's possible; though, in another respect, it be impossible it should happen that He should, actually, make this. 6. But, the Power of God, which is the very notion of Being and Thing, has not, for its act, the not-being of any thing and not-acting; and therefore, 'tis not to be said, that He can give not-being, or can not-act. 7. Let us remember, now, that God understands all and every thing done by the Creatures, and wills all things which follow out of his operation; and, we have it, that God is Governor of the World, and that there can be no resistance against his Will. 8. For, since whatever is has its birth from his will, nor can there be any thing which is not effected by Him and His works; 'tis clear, whatever He wills not is not, nor can be so long as he wills not that it be. 9 Nor is it less evident, that neither the Contingency of natural causes, nor the Liberty of rational Creatures is infringed, by this government of God. For, since Contingency is nothing else, but that the nature of the cause is such that it may and uses to be hindered, by other causes; and Liberty, that a Creature, upon the consideration of more proceeds to action: and, 'tis so manifest, that both these are in nature, and no ways touched by the operation of God (as that operation is explicated) that it needs only the remembering: 'tis clear, that the government of God is sweet, and offers no violence to the natures of natural causes. 10. You'll object, that Propositions, concerning a future, whether contingent or free, Subject, are determinately true; especially, since they are known by God and are predefined: wherefore, the effect cannot notbe: there is, therefore, no either contingency or liberty; whether this happens out of the force of Contradiction, or of the irrefragable will of God. 11. 'Tis answered, 'tis false that Propositions concerning a future contingent have a determinate truth: for, since a man speaks out of consideration of causes, the Sense of his proposition is What the causes may bear: Nor imports it, whether it be pronounced actively or passively; as if you should say, what the causes will act, or what effect will be made by them; for, it signifies still the same. 12. If it be, therefore, asked, what men mean by such propositions, 'twill rain, 'twill be hot, Socrates will be angry or go to Sea, & c? 'tis clear, they mean to explicate effects, as in defectible causes, and consequently, they have no determinate truth. But, if it be asked, what the proposition will signify, if it be referred immediately to the effect, as it sounds? 'tis answered, no sensible man uses to speak so or make such propositions; and so it belongs not to the present question. But, if there be supposed such a power of Contradiction in the Objects, as to determine the truth of propositions; all things must fall out by the necessity of Fate and be from themselves, Les. 5. n. 9, 10. which is, above, sufficiently demonstrated impossible. 13. 'Tis plain, lastly, that this action of God, by which He moves a Creature, is miscalled a Concourse; since such a word leads the hearer into an apprehension of a certain equality in acting, between God and a Creature: 'Tis, therefore, more properly called premotion or predetermination; since God makes us do even to every the least positive circumstance of action. 14. 'Tis collected, too, out of what has been said, how God is said to act in all things, both by the immediation of his Suppositum or Substance and of his Virtue; but, an Intelligence upon one body only by the immediation of Its Substance, upon the rest by the immediation only of Its virtue. 15. For, since the action of God is the influx of Being itself, and nothing can act without Being, nor Being flow from any but God; God must needs immediately act upon all Substances by Creating and Conserving them: and consequently, in such his acting, no third Substance intervenes between Him and the Creature. Again, the action of all bodies proceeding from Intelligences, and They being made act by God; the virtue of God makes every thing act, and so is more immediate to the effect then the virtue of the nearest cause: whence also, God is, by the immediation of his virtue, more immediate, than the next cause which produces the action. 16. But, an Intelligence, which immediately rarefies A, moveth not B, but by the mediation of A; the Suppositum A, therefore, is between the Intelligence and B; wherefore, the Intelligence acts not, by the immediation of Its Suppositum, upon B: But, because A's being rarified is the cause that A moveth B; and A is rarified by the virtue of the Intelligence; the virtue of the Intelligence makes B be moved by A; the virtue, therefore, of the Intelligence, not the Suppositum, is immediate to B. 17. And, hence it follows, that God is said to be Immense; but, an Intelligence to be definitively in Place: For, since nothing either is or can be without Existence, 'tis clear, neither can there be any Place, upon which God does not, immediately, act: but, an Intelligence, having a determinate proportion to a body, so acts upon a certain quantity, that it cannot, together and at once, immediately act upon another. Since, therefore, incorporeal Things are not in Place circumscriptively; an Intelligence must be definitively, but God, without end, in all Place, by immediate operation. LESSON XVII. Of the Conservation of Creatures, and the Durations of Things. 1. 'tIs clear, too, out of what has been said, that this action of God is the conservation of things, both as to their Substance, and as to their intrinsical Accidents: For, since the essence of created things has not, of itself, a necessary conjunction with Being, but such an one as may, of its own nature, be lost; 'tis plain, they are not conjoined, by force of their own notions, for that time during which they may be not-conjoyned; and, by consequence, as long as they are conjoined, they have this, to be conjoined, from an extrinsecall; they, therefore, remain conjoined by an Extrinsecall power. 2. But, 'tis of the same nature, to be conjoined and to remain conjoined, or, to be for any duration conjoined; they have, therefore, this from the same cause and virtue: and, since 'tis not any change, but, on the contrary, the effect is that nothing should be changed; by the very same action, too, they keep their being, which is, to be conserved. The same action of God, therefore, is Conservation, in respect of Substances: B. 1. Les. 5. N. 8, 9 And, since 'tis declared above, that intrinsecall Accidents are nothing else but manners of Substance; the Substance being conserved, 'tis clear, that they also are conserved in their Being. 3. Out of what has been said, too, we may know, what Action signifies in the effect itself: And, if the question be of the Divine action, as it immediately flows from God, 'tis plain, that 'Tis the very Substance itself; not only, because it cannot be subjected in a Substance, which subsists no otherwise then by it; nor, because the existence of Things formed out of our conceits is universally rejected; but also, because any intermediate action (such as the Moderns feign the Making) which should be put, serves to no purpose. 4. For, either God, before this action, is determined in himself to act, that is, that this action should follow from Him, or, He is not; if not, this action will not follow, for, from an indifferent nothing follows; but, if He be determined, this action has not the power of determining Him, for which the Opponent requires it as necessary: but, the effect can, as immediately, follow out of Himself, as this action. And, this same discourse holds against the like fictitious action, too, of Creatures. 5. Again, in as much as the action of God is Conservation, 'tis nothing but the very Being of the thing conserved. For, first, the Duration of an Incorporeal thing cannot be divisible; for, if it were divisible, 'twould be continuate and divisible without end: either, therefore, some part, together and at once, in an incorporeal, that is, indivisible thing, or not: if together, that part will not include succession; if not, no part can ever be. 6. And, this Argument has not less force in a Corporeal Creature; for, though it be divisible in extension, yet, 'tis indivisible in succession, and consequently, it cannot sustain together more parts of successive duration. 7. Again, if, to endure be, for the same thing to be the same it was; is it not clear, there's nothing required but a non-mutation? and, on the other side, that, of two things which exist, if one perish, that's said to be changed; that which endures remaining still unchanged? There is, therefore, no novelty in permanency. 8. Moreover, to change the existence, the Essence, too, must needs be changed, since, 'tis the aptest capacity of existence: the notion, therefore, of Substance will be in perpetual change and instable, and consequently, out of God, nothing stable. 9 You'll object, Since 'tis often said, that a Creature may notbe, and yet, whilst it is, it cannot notbe; 'tis manifest, that its cannot notbe, or, to be whilst it is, successively supervenes to a Creature: Since, therefore, there's a greater necessity of indivisibility, on God's part, then on a Creature's; the succession is to be concluded on the Creatures side. 10. 'Tis answered, 'Tis just contrary: for, as, if the action of God were put (by way of imagination) to be successive, no man would require any other succession, to understand the duration of a Creature; so, if the action of God be put equivalent to continually successive, no man can complain of the unintelligibility of Duration. 11. Because, therefore, the action of God is conformable to His existence, and His existence indivisibly comprehends the past and future; it must needs be that the action, as it is the internal determination of God, in the same manner comprehends succession. This action, therefore, actuates the Creature, with a certain indivisibility that eminentially contains divisibility; and, without any divisibility, makes the existence of a Creature, by contradiction, impossible to be taken away successively; yet, without any more than a virtual succession intervening in the Creature. 12. For, what has formally the virtue which is in succession, can as well perform this as succession itself: but, such, we have said, is the action of God: whence, 'tis plain, that, even from this effect, the notion of God's Eternity is demonstrated à posteriori. 13. Hence, 'tis deduced, that the duration of corporeal and spiritual Substances is, intrinsically different: Since, corporeal Substances have, from the notion of Matter, an intrinsical possibility to notbe; and consequently, a weaker connection to Being, intrinsically, out of their own nature; but duration consists in the connection of existence and essence, as to the effect of permanence. 14. Add to this, that there are, in nature, causes which destroy Bodies, but, there are none which are able to infest Spiritual Substances: whence, since God destroys nothing, of Himself, Intelligences are absolutely immortal, as also, separated Souls; and Bodies, when motion ceases, will be immortal accidentally, in the mean time they are simply mortal, unless perhaps there are some exempt from the general order. 15. Out of what has been said, too, both the notion and difference of three Durations is evident: B. 2. Les. 3. N. 3. of Time explicated at the beginning: of Eternity, when we treated of God: Les. 6. N. 14, 15. lastly, of Eviternity in Intelligences. LESSON XVIII. Of the manner of Action, on the Subject's side. 1. THe solution, also, of that old Question is evident, Why God made not the World before? For, if we consider, that there's no beginning of an Infinite, and that, where there's no beginning, there can be no determinate distance from the beginning; it will appear, that 'tis impossible there should be any eternal flux of Time or instants, (even by imagination), wherein there can be taken a now and then, and any constant difference of duration, or, something to be before, something after, determined. 2. Wherefore, such a Question proceeds from the weakness and infirmity of our understanding, and signifies nothing; and consequently, bears no answer: For, for God to make this world before, in time, that he made it, would be to have made a world before a world; since, the time of the beginning of the world is nothing else but the very motion, with which the world began to be moved. 3. In like manner, evident is the solution of that question, Whether God could make a permanent Thing (that is, whose essence includes not succession) from all eternity? For, if there be no quiddity or possibility of an infinite in succession; 'tis clear, that God could not so make a Creature, that it should have Eternity, by relation to infinite succession: Therefore, not otherwise then by some positive eminence conferred on it: Since, therefore, Duration consists in the connection of existence to a Thing, He could no otherwise make a Creature from Eternity, then by giving it such a connection by which, simply, it could not notbe, wherein consists the very Eternity itself of God. Clearly, therefore, 'tis impossible that even a permanent Thing could have been from Eternity. 4. But, as for the not-immediate action of God, or (which is all one) as 'tis the same with the action of the Creature, 'tis plain, the same account is to be given as of the action of the Creature. And, of these, Philosophers have pronounced, that Action is something between the Agent and effect: as, in the change of Place, between the Rest in the term whence and the term whether, there interven's motion; which they falsely imagine to be more beings-in-place successively, since, as Aristotle has demonstrated, all that time the movable happens not to be in a place equal to it, whereas, yet, equality is of the very notion of Place. 5. So, too, in other mutations, especially that which is called Substantial generation, the Subject, by the precedent motion, which properly is the very action, is not, neither actually nor in part, in the term itself; but is changed only in its Quality. 6. So, too, it falls out in Rarefaction, which is immediately from an Intelligence: for, since the proportion of an Intelligence to a Body is finite; It cannot, instantaneously, reduce a body to any how-little-soever-a degree of rarity: wherefore, there must of necessity, between It prepared for action and the term, intervene some motion; during which, the body rarified is neither in any determinate degree of rarity, nor in any determinate Place. 7. Out of all which, this, at length, is concluded, what a kind of being Passion or mutation has in the Subject: for, since 'tis repugnant, the Formal parts in a Compound should be actual; they must be only in possibility or power, and some other third thing, resolvable into parts, actually exist. 8. This third thing, therefore, has a certain resolvable and changeable nature; wherefore, 'tis clear, there is some cause which has the power of changing it: Let B, therefore, be the changeable nature, A the changing cause; if A be applied to B, must not B, of necessity, become another thing than it was, that is, be changed? 9 This is, therefore, for B to have suffered by means of A, viz. to become another thing than it was: another thing, I say, or altered; for, if nothing perceivable remain, 'tis become another thing; but, if there remain whereby it may be marked to be this same as was before, 'tis only altered, because the foundation, or, that which is the sustainer still remains, but 'tis innovated in some respect. 10. For example, Let there be a Gallon of water in a cubical vessel, and (to avoid dispute about a thing that concerns us not) let's suppose the Figure to be nothing else, but that that very quantity, according to its three dimensions, be no farther extended then, actually, 'tis; (which conceit, being purely negative, can add nothing to the quantity): let the same water, then, be supposed in a vessel of another figure; and consequently, itself, too, to have put on other limits: Since the former terms were nothing but the very Quantity of the water, neither can the later differ from it. 11. 'Tis evident, therefore, that this Quantity, remaining a Gallon, (which is its difference, whereby, as quan-tity, 'tis limited), has a possibility to be, now Pyramidal, now cubical; and consequently, is changeable, no Thing being changed: To this possibility, therefore, if the power of two such vessels be supposed successively applied; 'tis clear, purely upon the water's and their conjunction, there follows a change in the Quantity of the water, by little and little, and, at length, what in one vessel was of one figure, in another becomes of another, changed according to the manner, unchanged according to the notion of Quantity. 12. Thus, Substances become altered, according to Qualities, the Quantity unchanged; according to Quantity, the Substance unchanged; according to Substance, the Matter remaining: for no other cause, but that the Subject or that which suffers is so mutable, and an Efficient, which has the power of changing, is applied. A THEOLOGICALL APPENDIX, Of The BEGINNING Of the WORLD. Wherein, 'tis essayed how subservient Philosophy is to Divinity. Same AUTHOR. Cant. 1. Equitatui meo in curribus Pharaonis assimilavi te, Amica mea. Printed in the Year, 1656. To the READER. SInce Philosophy has then attained its Dignity, when, applied to Action, it renders Man better, that is, more Man; and Christians are initiated to this by Divinity: this, evidently, is the highest pitch of Philosophy, to wait on and be subservient to the Traditions derived from God. Wherefore, I saw it absolutely necessary, to fortify the Institutions, I would recommend to Thee, with a subsignation of Theology. Nor was I long to seek whether I should first address myself: For, when, after the Notions of Nature digested in common, I had exposed the same in a Collection of the World, as it were, in an Example; by the same rule, having exhibited the Action of Things, like a sceleton, in its Principles, in the last Book of Metaphysic, I saw myself obliged to vest It, in the CREATION, with the Nature due to It. And, since in the ancient Theology, we had this accurately deciphered, beyond the Attempts of Philosophers; but untraceable, because the Paths of Nature were unknown: It seemed to me, a more express Seal of Theological Approbation could not be desired, then that the Institutions should carry a Torch before the Mysteries of Genesis; and, from those so discovered, receive themselves, with advantage; the Glory and Splendour of Authority. What more? I essayed: thou seest the Issue; which I wish may benefit Thee. A Theologicall Appendix. Of THE BEGINNING OF THE WORLD. CHAP. I. A Philosophical discourse, concerning the Creation of Heaven and Earth. 1. SInce we find by universal experience, without any exception, that, not only the Operations, but, even the very Subsistence of all bodily Substances is by continued steps brought from possibility to be in act; nor can we doubt that the parts and the whole are of the same nature; 'tis evident, the Beginning of the Universe itself, if we suppose it managed according to the nature of Bodies, must proceed by the same rule; that, from the nearest power and possibility in which it could be, it has been ripened by degrees to this excellent beauty, and did not by instantaneous Creation immediately start into perfection. 2. Because, therefore, God subsists by the very necessity of Being itself, and in Being itself there can be nothing of imperfection, 'tis clear, that His ultimate intrinsical formality and free act preexists before, not only the existence, but even, the very essence of all and every Creature, as much as whatever is most essential in Him. 3. As also that this Being, which they have received from God, is the nature of the Creatures, nor can they otherwise flow from God then according to their natural condition. Especially, since God acts not to attain an end prefixed to himself; but this is His end, (if we may call any thing an end in respect of God) that the Creatures should be, so, as, in his Essence, Science and Will, He has predesined their determinate nature fixed and inviolably to be; that the whole Universe might emane His most beautiful Image, and, in a manner, a most adequate participation of Himself. 4. So that, all things that are to have their most connatural quality, as far as it can stand, impartially, with the perfection of their fellow bodies; this is that which God willed, and what, in effect, he has brought to pass. 5. Be this, therefore, firmly established, that God not instantaneously, but by a congruous disposition of divers degrees brought up the world from its deepest possibility, that is, its simplest and fewest principles, to its due perfection. 6. Again, because neither materia prima nor any other part of a Thing, but only Physical Compound, is apt to receive Exiastence: and, of Physical Compounds the most simple and, as it were, most poten, tiall, that is, next above mere possibility, are the Elements: and something must, of necessity, have flowed instantaneously from God: It follows, that some one or more of the Elements were, by Creation, called by God out of the common Abyss of nothingness. 7. But not one only Element was created. For, since Motion does not follow out of the sole virtue of Creation: nor could Motion be without Division; nor Division without a Substantial difference of the divider from the divided; nor this be made, even by Angelical virtue, without time: it follows that more Elements were created immediately by God. 8. Yet not all the four: Since FIRE we call an Element that makes itself be seen, which implies Action; but corporeal action is not without motion; nor motion from pure Creation. 9 But, of the other three Elements no one could be conveniently omitted: For EARTH and WATER are those we see mixed by Fire through the whole course of Nature; and Fire is immediately generated and nourished by AIR: If any one therefore, of these three had been wanting; the matter had been unfit for Angelical operation. 10. Three Elements, therefore, were created; nor those confused in a Chaos: for such a confusion had not exhibited the most simple matter, but a disordered multitude of mixed things; since mixed things emerge from a mere confusion of the Elements. 11. Earth, therefore, was the inmost, as the densest and of constant nature: Aire was the outmost, as the most opposite to Earth: the middle both Nature and Place water possessed. CHAP. II. An Explication of GENESIS concerning the same. 1. LEt's see, now, whether the Christians most ancient Theology, derived from the Hebrews, speaks consonantly to this. God (says it) in the Beginning created the Heaven and the Earth. The Beginning, says, not so much a precedency to things that followed, since itself was something of what was begun; as that nothing was before it. Admirably, therefore, by this term, 'tis expressed, that the Creation of Heaven and Earth was, so, instantaneous and, in a manner, before the rest; that neither any Time intervened, nor was itself in Time. It shows, therefore, that they were created out of nothing; and that, instantaneously; and, that the rest immediately followed out of these once put. 2. Nor can it be doubted what it calls Heaven and Earth, since the name of Earth is immediately used afterwards: whence, 'tis evident, that, by the remaining name of Abyss, is expressed what before was called Heaven; otherwise, the sacred Text is confused and imperfect. 3. 'Tis added, that the Earth was void and empty; according to the Hebrew expression, solitude and emptiness, or rather, of solitude and emptiness; for, so, the Hebrews often express their Adjectives. The sense is clear, that neither were there men upon the Earth, whose properties are fellowship and conversation, the privation whereof makes Solitude; nor Plants and Animals, which, as bodies and utensils, might fill the place and house of humane habitation. 4. It follows, that Darkness was upon the face of the Abyss. The word Abyss, says a Gulf of waters whose bottom is unknown, or not reached; and because the most simple manner of reaching is by Sight, it properly signifies such a depth of water, that Sight cannot reach its bottom. Wherefore, the sense is most easy, that, what it had formerly called Heaven was a vast diaphanous body, upon which there was no Fire to enlighten it. It affirms, therefore, directly, that Fire was not created. 5. But it subjoins two parts of the Abyss, whilst it says, and the Spirit of the Lord was born upon the waters. Clearly, therefore, it affirms three Elements, EARTH, WATER and AIR, were Created by God; but not FIRE. And, that they were not confused is evident, in that, otherwise, it had not been an Abyss, that is, a capacity of Light, and a privation; since by the commixtion of Earth the other Elements had been rendered opake: Moreover, the Spirits being born upon the waters denotes a distinction of Places between the other two Elements. 6. But 'tis observable that the word, was born, according to the force of the Original term, speci●ies that motion whereby Birds sustain themselves with open wings over their nests, lest they should crush their young ones; and yet, to defend them from the cold. Whence, a certain person amongst the Hebrews explicates it, not weighing upon, touching, but not striking: wherefore, the Air covered the water, but pressed it not. 'Tis plain, therefore, that according to the propriety of the expression, 'tis specified, there was as yet no Gravity, and that the Air is the first of the Elements whose property it is to have any heat in it. 'Tis evident, therefore, there's no gravity in the Air, of its own nature; and consequently, that 'tis not an intrinsical Quality in the other Elements, but is in them from the operation of Fire and the order of Agents. CHAP. III. A Philosophical discourse of the works of the two first days. 1. THe Matter of the World being Created, it remains that we see what followed, by the additional operation of Creatures. And because the operation of Angels is no other than rarefaction: & nature wanted its natural instrument, viz. Fire; for This we see principally made use of for almost all natural effects, especially, the generation of Substances: and This is not raised out of Water and Earth immediately without first becoming Air: it must be, that the Angels or Angel whose task this was, by rarefying the Air raised a vast Fire. 2. And since there are many sorts of Fire; and that, which, far from the fiery body, smokes no longer, but shoots out directly with pure rays, is, by a special name, called Light: Light must needs have been made by the Angels, through the rarefaction of pure Air, as, from which no Smoke rises. 3. Nor is it less certain, this must be done in the very confines of Air and water. For, since the Angels could not in an instant convert Air into Light; and a local motion of the neighbouring bodies follows upon rarefaction; the Air must needs have been moved whilst 'twas yet in the form of Air: and since motion cannot be without a plurality of Substances, 'tis plain that the Air divided the water; and consequently, the first Fire was raised in the confines of both. 4. Since, therefore, the Fire being raised, of necessity, acted upon the water; it follows, that the Waters being stirred, those particles to which the Fire stuck, (being rarer than the rest, and coveting still a larger place), by their own and the denser parts of the Water's motion, must needs be thrust out into the Air, which is more yielding: and those excluded, be aggregated together, specially towards the Light, where, by reason of the more vehement action, there must needs be greatest abundance of them: and, more flowing from one side then another, (since natural causes work not rigorously even), the whole mass of Water, and Earth adhering to it, by little and little attain a motion towards the same Light; so that, successively and by parts, it rolled in a Circle and was enlightened, having in some places Night in others Day. 5. Besides, another effect must evidently have followed from this production of Light, viz. a vast abundance of Clouds be raised up into the Air, which, by the circulation of the Light about the inferior Globe, must necessarily be removed a vast distance from the Globe itself and the Light: Whence, being no longer sensible of the Globe's attraction, they could not, by any order of Causes, be remitted back towards the Globe. Thus, therefore, there's a vast space established, between the waters in the Globe, whence the Clouds were extracted, and between those very Clouds themselves; which may keep them from one another separate for ever or, at least, till the end of the World. CHAP. IU. An explication of Genesis concerning the same. 1. WHat says Theology to this? It says, And God said, Let there be Light; and LIGHT was made. Speech and command are addressed to another: clearly, therefore, it reaches that, by the intermediate operation of Angels, Light was made. 2. And it was made, clearly shows that the making immediately and instantly began, viz. that there was no delay in the intermediate Instrument; wherefore, that 'twas an Incorporeal Substance which needed not be moved that it might move: Moreover, the word he said, which implies Knowledge, declares it to have been an Intelligent Instrument. 3. It adds, And God saw the Light that it was good. Goodness is perfection: namely, because the nature of the Elements, by the addition of Fire, was complete and perfected; therefore, Light is said to be good: Again, because the rest of the Elements were passive, and Light active; therefore Light is called good or perfect: for, what has attained an aptitude to produce or make its like, is esteemed perfect, in its kind. 4. It follows, And he divided the light from the darkness etc. 'Tis plain, this division was made, not by Place but by Time, since Day and Night are parts of Time: and consequently, that motion or the diurnal conversion was now begun; which is declared by those words, and he called the light Day and the darkness Night. For, since, as yet, Man was not, to whom words might be significant; He called is as much as he established the Essence of Day and Night: for, a name or appellation denotes the essence or quiddity of the Thing named. 5. 'Tis added, and the Evening and the Morning was made one Day: in the original Text, and the Evening was made and the Morning was made, or, the Evening was and the Morning was. From which Phrase 'tis understood, that this motion had, for its term whence, the Evening, and for its term whether, the Morning; and consequently, that the motion was made in a Subject to which it agrees to have Evening and Morning, that is, in the Earth; and that it was from West to East, that is, towards the Light. 6. Again, And God said, let there be a FIRMAMENT in the midst of the Waters, and let it divide the Waters from the Waters: In the Hebrew, an Expansion. Either word is properly taken, since it was a Space unpassable for its vastness and expansion, and, by consequence, fixed, and fixing the division of the Waters. 7. But those words in the midst of the waters are to be noted; which teach, that no Substance was made a new, but only between the waters and the waters: which is evident, too, from the word, Heaven; which name he gave the Firmament; by which very word, 'tis expressed, that, before, God created the Heaven. The Etymology also of the word is to be noted; which, both in the Hebrew and Greek Idiom, signifies as much as whence the waters, or, whence or where it drops: that it may be evidenced, even from the name, that the Air itself is the Firmament. CHAP. V. A Philosophical discourse of the works of the other four days. 1. FArther, by the operation of this vast Fire, not only the Water, but much of the Earth, too, with the Water must needs have been raised up. For, Chemists know that the intense heat of fire can raise up and carry away crass Oils and Ointments; nay even Salts and very Gold itself. Since, therefore, the Earth, before the operation of Light, was dissolved in minutest parts and Dust, as, void of all Moisture: it must needs be that the Heat mixed every where the Water with Earth; and thus all muddy carried it up into the Air; but, most of all, about those parts over which the Fire perpendicularly hung. 2. Whence, 'tis plain, two Effects must needs have risen: one, that the Earth in that Circle should become more hollowed and low then in the rest of its Superficies; the other, that the Water, from the remoter places, should flow into these hollownesses: whether by the attraction of the Fire; or by natural connection; or by some power of Gravity, which, through the operation of the Fire, by little and little, attained a force. 3. 'Tis plain, therefore, that, since the motion of the Earth was, of necessity, by the greatest Circle: the Earth, by the course of the foresaid causes, must be drained and dried first about the Poles of that Circle; and the waters gathered together in the empty hollowness under that Circle. 4. I said, by the course of the foresaid causes: for, if we consider what was likely to be done by accident, this consequence will not be universally necessary. For, 'tis clear, that the Earth by the boiling of the water, being unequally mixed and remixt, with continual agitation; must, according to the law of contingency, have produced, by the meeting of different parts, as many kinds and species of Earth's, as we see diversities of Fossils'; which we divide, generally, into four kinds, Stones, Metals, Mold, and concrete juices. 5. And, since, from the varieties, also, of those great parts of that mass now tempered with water, a notable variety must needs follow; the Earth, yet covered with Waters, may easily here and there have boiled up into Excrescencies; as Islands have often grown up in the Sea. By this irregularity, therefore, some Mountains growing, may have appeared before the Polar Regions of the Earth. 6. From the same principles, it follows, that the Earth did not appear wholly squalid and desert, but already impregnated with the Seeds of all things: nor with Seeds only, but with Plants, too; those especially which either require or can endure more moisture; the rest, by little and little, as the drier Earth grew more apt and fitly disposed for their birth, they, too, sprung out. 7. And, because an Animal is nothing but a more-compounded Plant: by the same reason, the Earth, then most aptly tempered and disposed, brought forth perfect Animals; as it now being barrener, of its own accord, produces such as we call insecta, as Mice and Frogs, and sometimes new fashioned Animals. 8. But, because the waters must needs have been very muddy, even They, before the Earth, must have sprung into Animals fit to inhabit them; viz. Fishes, small and great; as also into certain middle Animals, which might fly up to the higher parts of the Earth, that is Birds: as, even now, we see all kind of Birds that are bred of Putrefaction, by the Sea shores and Lake's sides, grow out of the rottenness of wood tempered with water. 9 'Twas necessary, too, that, by the force of that mighty Flame, parts of Earth and Water of a vast bulk, carried up above the Air, should, by natural attraction and the power of the baking Fire, coagulate into many vast Bodies: whereof, some should more abound with fiery virtue, and therefore, both conceive and belch out abundance of Flames; so that being entirely lucid they should be apt to enlighten other bodies, too, within a fit distance: and, that others, less abounding with fiery parts, should be fit in a congruous order and method, to be concocted and enlightened by Them; and themselves, too, be able to reflect light from the former to the rest. 10. Wherefore, were they set & moved in a convenient site to the Earth now inhabited, they might always more or less enlighten it: nor would there be any longer need of that vast light made by the Angels. And this formation of things the Egyptians, Aethiopians, Empedocles and other natural Philosophers, as it were, by the conduct of Nature, out of the very steps and order of Generation which they still observed in nature, have emulated and attempted, though not throughly attained. CHAP. VI An Explication of Genesis concerning the same. 1. THe sacred Commentaries, concerning these things, tell us thus, And God said, let the Waters which are under the Heaven be gathered together into one place, and let the dry Land appear. Here is the first mention made of gravity, whose effect is said to be, to congregate into one place: that we may see Gravity is not a motion towards any particular Site, but towards the unity of a body; and that it was made out of the Order of the Universe now established, after that, between the acting Light and the Earth upon which it acted, a great distance full of Air was interposed, wherein the motion of things ascending and descending might be free. 2. job 38. 'tis said, that the Sea flowed, as it were, out of a womb; whence 'tis understood that the Earth throughly moistened with Water, sweat out on all sides, into the lower Vaults, and increased the Water, where, by the extreme force of the light, it had been too much sucked out; and so left the Earth in its due temperament. Whence there's evidenced, another cause, too, Chap. 5. N. 5. besides what we have explicated of the Earth's appearing, viz. because, by the permixtion of hot water, it swelled into a far greater bulk. 3. It follows, and God called the dry, Land, and the gathering together of the waters he called Seas: For, it was not Earth in the same sense wherein, at the beginning, 'twas said God created the Heaven and the Earth; for, there, the Element of Earth was called Earth, but here a certain mixed body consisting of infinite variety. And, for the same cause, he called the Firmament, Heaven: for, at the beginning, Heaven signified Air and Water in the purity of their natures; but, here, a mixed body made of the Elevation of the Waters with the Air. 4. We understand farther, because the waters are commanded to be congregated into one place, and yet the effect is called Seas; the waters, which, from that mighty celestial fire, had contracted Saltness, though, to appearance, they possess several places, yet have a communion between themselves & truly constitute one place, though outwardly interrupted: as 'tis evident of most of them, out of Cosmographical History. 5. It follows, And God said, let the Earth bring forth the green herbs and which produces Seed etc. Whence 'tis understood, that the generation of Plants proceeded from the very springing fecundity of the Earth, through the activity of so much heat; without any extraordinary and miraculous concourse of God. For, if, in fifteen days, Plants ripen under the Equator, which, with us, require a three month's space for their generation; what doubt, but, much more copiously and sooner they started out of the womb of the Earth justly tempered by the operation of Angels? 6. Nor need we believe, because the Plants were perfect, therefore Oaks and such like Trees must have been at the full strength which they attain not under an entire Age: for, it suffices, that the barren Trees yielded Shade and the fruitful their Fruits, against the sixth Day. 6. The Text goes on, Let there be Lights in the Firmament of Heaven, and let them divide the day and the night. And, even from hence, 'tis evident that the office of Light created the first day, was to dry the Earth; which being done, there was no longer need of so mighty a Fire, and therefore the Angels ceased from that operation. 8. There appears, again, the difference between that Light and the Sun: for the Sun is not called light, but a light'ner, as a Candle or a Torch, wherein one part is flame and another fuel of the flame, or that yields the light. It appears, therefore, that the SUN is a concrete of combustible matter, and a certain Vulcanian Globe all over full of pits vomiting flames: and, that it received the office of the former light, which was to divide between the day and the night. 9 But, in that 'tis said, in the firmament of Heaven (the Original expression has it, in the expansion of Heaven, or of that whence the waters) 'tis evident, these lights were placed in the Air; and that there's no difference of nature between the Firmament wherein the Stars, and that wherein the Clouds and Birds are, and, consequently, that neither are there any Spheres in which the Fixed Stars should be, but they are moved as Fishes in the water. 10. Upon which grounds, 'twill not be hard to believe them made of Waters raised up out of the Earth; as the 103 or 104 Psalm clearly teaches: For, where our text has it, who covers with waters its upper parts, (viz. of Heaven), the Hebrew has, who framest its chambers of waters: Chambers are lodgings or abiding places aloft; the Stars therefore (if indeed there are any People in them) are elegantly called the chambers of Heaven: and they are said to be framed of water, that is, built and compacted; the watery parts, commixed with which the terrestrial were raised up, partly being drained into the concavities, (as we said concerning our Sea), partly keeping a consistency about the globes to thicken the Air, partly remaining in them, for a due mixtion sake, according to the variety of the parts of the Globes. 11. But, that the Angels, which before kindled the Light, were divided amongst the Stars; especially the Suns (whereof, 'tis evident, there are many) job shows by those words, when asked where waist thou when the morning Stars marched triumphantly, or, exulted alike or together; and all the sons of God sounded their trumpets? that is, when the morning stars began to be moved (as, in the Psalm, 'tis said of the Sun, he roused up himself as a Giant, to run his course), that is, stars making morning or light; to which conjoining the sons of God, he teaches that each of them had its Angel, to excite their first motion, as it were sounding the Alarm and giving the sign for motion, or, making the start and first impression. And this interpretation is best accommodated both to the Hebrew words and to the matter whereof He spoke: and the word, together, shows that, in one day they all began their motion. 12. The holy Author adds the End of these Lights, that they might be eminent day and night, for so the original propriety has it, where our text says to rule over; that is, that they might be very conspicuous: And, for Signs, or, according to the force of the original word, Miracles or Prodigies; that is, that they might make men admire; whence by little and little they might be elevated from terrestrial things, to know God and his works, and worship him. 13. Lastly, for days and years. Whence, 'tis deduced, that the Earth had been hitherto moved only about its own Centre; but, from thenceforward, began to be moved under the Ecliptic; viz. Because the motion made by the first fire was so violent, that the waters were only drawn towards the light, or if any moved any other way, they were so few, that they were in no measure able to alter the course towards the light: But, the force of the Sun being far less, did so make the Waters move about the Earth, that yet the impulse of the returning Waters was notable; whence the Earth was moved about the Sun in a line mixed, in a manner, of a Circular and a right. CHAP. VII. Some Animadversions about the Text of the first Chapter of Genesis. 1. FRom the whole Story 'tis evident that our Earth is situated in the very middle of the Universe. For, since all the rest of the World was formed by evaporation from the Globe whereof our Earth was the Centre; & this, by Fire intermediate between the Earth & the other parts of the World: 'tis evident, that the rest of the world is, with a certain equality, remote from it, and consequently, that it is placed in the midst. 2. Which I would not have so understood, as if the Centre of the Earth were the very middle point; but, that the Great Orb, (that is, all that Orb, which the Earth makes with its circle about the Sun) has the notion of a Centre: for, that it scarce makes a visible Magnitude, in respect of the rest of the world, Astronomers find by experience. 3. Add to this a conjecture from the Phaenomena's. For, the Zodiac is fuller of great and conspicuous Stars than the other parts of the Heavens; as it must of necessity have happened, if the World began, after the manner we have explicated: Besides, of all those Stars which are illuminated from our Sun, the Earth alone is carried under the Ecliptic, that is, through the middle of the very Zodiac, to whose course the rest seem to yield and give place. 4. In the middle, between the generation of Plants and Animals, the Celestial bodies are reckoned: because they are compacted of the crassest evaporations; and therefore, ought not to be counted, till the Earth had already showed itself, wherewith the generation of Plants was conjoined; but, before Animals, because they are not animated themselves, but are only for animated things: And, because they are adventitious to the Earth, as helps; before that Animals were created, but especially Man, for whom the Earth was chiefly made, (who, yet, is but a kind of Animal, and therefore aught to be generated together with the rest), 'twas necessary a habitation should be prepared, and consequently, furnished with lights. 5. From the same order 'tis deduced, that Plants are not said to be animated or living, in the same sense as Animals: Since Animals have in themselves the principle of their increasing; but Plants are filled from without, from the order of the Universe. 6. Now, three things are to be remarked concerning the explicated Texts. First, that God saw all things good, besides the Firmament and Man: the reason whereof is, for the Firmament, that it had only the notion of a Place, and (the Stars not being yet created) remained imperfect; whereas the name of good signifies perfection: but Man was the compliment of all, and therefore, not in any special regard, but, looking upon the whole, he's comprehended in this, that all things were very good. 7. The second is, Why God, of all others should name Day and Night, the Firmament, the Land and Seas, and lastly Man; but none of the rest? The reason is, because, of those things that are made, some belong to the Universe as formal parts, that is, without which 'tis no longer a Universe; others, as material parts, which may be changed without the destruction of the Universe: the first God named, that is, fixed and established their nature; the rest he omitted, as mutable. 8. The third is, Why God blessed only the Fishes, Birds and Man; and not the Plants nor Animals? The reason is, because the blessing was to fill the Earth and the Sea: and, if he had commanded the Trees or Animals to fill the Earth, there had been no room for Man: These therefore were to increase to such a degree only; whence, otherwhere, God said to his People, that, by little and little, he would destroy their Enemies, lest the Beasts should be multiplied against them; and 'tis a saying, too, amongst us, concerning domestic Animals, that 'Tis a good land which nourishes more Men than Beasts: But, because the Sea was not the habitation of Men, 'twas said to Fishes, that they should multiply without any other measure then that of the Sea itself; and the same reason is of Birds in the Air. 9 Farther, we have the reason why the Creation of the World was distinguished by Days. For, since all these works were perfected by means of fire or the Sun's heat; and that, not in one Quarter only, but over the whole globe of the Earth: by consequence, the whole Orb of the Earth was entirely turned to the Light, whilst every thing was made; now, we call a Day an entire conversion of the Earth to the Sun. 10. It appears, too, that these days were unequal. For, since the Globe which was to be turned, at the beginning was vast (for Water and Earth were created of such a bulk, that all the Stars might be made out of them); 'tis plain it was a mighty Mass, and not to be entirely converted to the light under a long time. 11. The first three days, therefore, were very long, and the following still shorter than the former: but the later three were shorter and like ours or little longer; so that an Animal, at least in three of those days, might be brought to a congruous bigness, a Fish in two; but the Plants, even before the Earth was altogether dried, already sprung up. 12. But, 'twas necessary that those things which could not be produced at the same time and together, should be made in several days: wherefore, three days were assigned for constituting the orb, other three for its adorning: and for establishing the Firmament, viz. that vehement sucking out and elevating of the vapours, the second day; the first having been spent in acquiring, as it were, velocity; but the third day finished the work▪ that we might look upon these three days, as it were, the beginning, middle, and end. 13. In like manner, because some space was to be allowed for breeding the Fish, the first day is assigned to the Stars; in which whatever was to be wrought (at least, in respect to us) required nothing but their being shown in the Firmament, which is▪ perfected in once turning about: And, because the procreation of the Water is more abundant and quick, then that of the Earth; the generation of Fishes is placed between that of the Stars and Animals. And thus, the necessity of twice three days is resolved. CHAP. VIII. A natural Discourse of the Creation of MAN. 1. BUt, because all these things consisted in Motion, nor could sustain the proper notion of an end, 'twas necessary a Creature should be made, which should so transcend and grow above Motion, as that, yet its beginning should be in motion: which, because, according to its form it exceeded Motion and Matter, a pure and, as it were, casual heap of Physical indivisibles, and a Mixtion otherwise then particularly artificial could not frame. 2. A Body, therefore, by Angelical hands, was formed, which God alone, beyond the power of Angels, could effectively Animate; and so, by their joynt-labour, MAN was made: with that capacity of Body and, particularly, of Brain, which should be most fit to polish his life conformably to Nature, according to the conditions of the Time wherein he was set. 3. In a little while, therefore, beholding all kind of Plants, as also of Animals and Birds, he learned the nature of things: but, when he would have told his thoughts in words; there was nothing among them all which could apprehend or answer him. Falling asleep, therefore, with much solicitude, God made a WOMAN to spring out of his side: To whom, at first sight; the Man joined himself with extreme love; and taught her which fruits were wholesome, which noxious and unwholesome. 4. She, believing her Husband, but not knowing, herself, as he did; being overcome with the deliciousness of a certain fruit provocative to Lust, both eat herself & gave it to her too-uxorious husband: Whereupon, being out of countenance with the swelling of their natural parts raised without their consent, they sought for cover. 5. Mean time, by the command of God, the Sun, raising the Wind and the Flux of the Sea, turned the Earth aside, which before had its Axes direct and even with those of the Ecliptic; and spoiled the Country where Man lived, of all its beauty: and introducing colds, brought in the mortal state of the World: and Man was forced to guard himself with Garments. CHAP. IX. An explication of Genesis, concerning the Creation of MAN. 1. THese things are dictated out of Nature; concerning which, there's an ampler relation out of the sacred Records. For first, God is said to have spoken thus to the Angels, let us make Man to our Image and Similitude: the word, let us make, signifies a special concourse of God and not a general only, as to the other things. 2. An Image differs from a Similitude, in that an Image speaks a relation of a thing either measured by or derived from a pattern; but, a Similitude neither: Besides, an Image may be and, for the most part, is of a nature inferior to its pattern; but a Similitude falls so far short of the perfection of a Similitude, as it participates of another nature. Man, therefore, was created to the Image of God and to the Similitude of Angels; according to that, and they shall be like the Angels of God, and again, Thou hast abased him a little lower than the Angels. 3. The Creation of Man is described thus, He formed of the Mud of the Earth; the primitive propriety has, thinking to make, or, to frame as a Potter; whereby is expressed, that the work of Man was a greater task than that of other Creatures, and that it specially required the operation of an Intelligence. Where our Text says, of the Mud of the Earth in the Original 'tis, dust of red Earth: Now, of framable Earth's, that the red are the best; Pots for Pleasure made of them witness, which yield a savoury relish to the drinkers: And the force of the word Dust is, to make us understand the Earth was decocted into minutest parts; for, almost in all Arts, the more the matter is divided, the more exquisite the work proves. 4. It follows, And He breathed into his Face the breath of life: in which words, there's a clear expression of another operation, after the forming of his body; to show that the production of a Rational Soul does not adequately proceed out of second causes. 5. And the words which follow, And Man was made a living Soul▪ show that there is no other but the rational Soul in Man, since his vegetation proceeded out of that. That there are not, therefore, more subordinate Forms in any Matter, appears from the propriety of the sacred Doctrine. 6. Again, the holy Writ says, God, therefore, took the Man, and placed him in a paradise of Pleasure, to work and keep it: and He commanded him, saying, Of every Tree, etc. Though it be not expressly taught that the knowledge of God was infused into Man; yet, in that 'tis said, He breathed into his face, and again, that He took him and commanded him, 'tis apparent enough, that God was first known to him, and, by God, his science was derived to other things. For, his first object, at the opening his Eyes, was his Inspirer before his face: Him, therefore, first he knew, adored, and loved; and being showed by Him the Herbs and Plants, the Beasts and Birds, he distinguished both the Virtue & natures of each, & received them of Him for his own Use & Service; 'Tis plain, therefore, that he could not choose but Believe God's sayings, Hope in his Promises, & Love him as his Father. 7. That he learned of God the Virtue of Herbs and Plants, 'tis evident, out of those words, Thou shalt eat of every Tree, etc. for, whilst He puts both an Universality and an exception, he insinuates that Adam knew both. Moreover, those words, where he's said to be placed in Paradise, to work and keep it, (which he could not do, unless he knew the nature of Plants,) argue that he knew them. Lastly, since 'tis expressly said of the Beasts and Birds, that, by only seeing them, he throughly saw into their nature, in those words, to see what he would call them, and again, whatever Adam called any living Soul, that is its name; since 'tis most certain that the names were fitted▪ to the natures of things, and consequently, were imposed upon the knowledge of them: 'Tis clear that the inferior natures, too, were as easily known to him. 8. The sacred Author adds, But to Adam there was not found a helper like him: the primitive expression is, And to the Man he found not a help as it were before him, or, as others explicate, as it were against him. It appears, therefore, that the WOMAN was made, not out of the necessity of nature alone, but by the consent and will of Adam: God governing Man, a Reasonable Creature, by persuasion and induction, not by force and command; that is, according to the nature which he had given him. 9 It appears, again, that the Man was not only in his Matter, but even in his Mind, the Author and Superior and, as it were, the Maker of the Woman. 10. But, since Adam had not yet felt the stings of the Flesh; neither knew he, as yet, the need of a Woman, as Woman: but only he desired one to discourse with, to whom he might declare his knowledge, and confer about his doubts. This is that which was so grievous to the Man, that God said, 'twas not good for him to be alone; and provided, not only for the present but for ever, that he should have such as he might teach and converse with. 12. Nor makes it against this, that a Man may seem more proper for the conversation of a Man: for 'tis not true, neither in regard of his Mind, nor of his Body: For, 'tis known, that, as to his Body, a Man chooses to converse with the beauteous, and Beauty is proper to Women (as they are condistinguisht to Men): And, as for the Mind, a knower chooses to converse with one that will learn & acquiesce, rather than one that will be refractory; but Women are more credulous and obedient than Men: And, in respect to both Body and Mind, the conversation is more sweet and agreeable with such as reciprocate love; but Women are more obnoxious to love then Men. 12. And that she was required for Conversation, the very genuine expression shows, in those words, a help, as it were, against him: For, since the countenances of those that talk together are mutually turned towards one another; and Man is made to be moved forward; it appears, that the faces of those that discourse together are, as it were, of entrers by opposite and contrary ways, and consequently, the faces themselves, according to the same line, are opposite and contrary. Such a help, therefore, was not found amongst all the Animals: whence, 'twas ill with Adam. CHAP. X. An explication of the same, concerning the Creation of WOMAN. 1. GOd, therefore, cast (the holy Text proceeds) a sleep upon Adam: the Propriety is, and He made a sleep fall: for, sleep begins from the Brain and the Head, & descends upon the rest of the Members: as also, the Cold of the Night (which proceeds from Vapours that, having been raised up high by the Sun and, refrigerated by its departure, descend) is a cause of sleep: in both respects, therefore, 'tis more aptly expressed He made fall, than He cast. 2. Moreover, both Sopor and the primitive word express a deep sleep and like to a Lethargy: the Septuagint interprets it, an Ecstasy; which so binds up the Senses, that the ecstatick person cannot feel any, under the intensest, pain. 3. Now, 'tis easy to observe, that this sleep, at least in part, proceeded from the former great contention and travail of his Mind to discern the natures of all Animals, and from his pensiveness that he found not his comfort or satisfaction in them all. 4. Adam lay down, therefore, on his right side: for Aristotle teaches, that this posture is the aptest for sleeping. And what did God? He took (says the holy Writ) one of his ribs, and filled up Flesh for it: In the Hebrew, the Letter is more obscure, but thus, with propriety, 'tis expressed, and He took one of his sides; and shut up flesh under it; and built the side, which He had taken from the Man, into a Woman. The word which we have expressed by He took is very large, and includes whatever manner of taking, for example, to lay hold on; and the word which we have interpreted He shut up, is taken largely, too, for He compassed about: The very Letter therefore, in fine, yields this sense, God took to him one of Adam's sides and encompassed it with flesh, and built, that is, framed or erected it into a Woman: So that the sense may be, that God multiplied the flesh about one of his sides, and the flesh or side already swollen He, by little and little, distributed and fashioned into a Woman; so that, the Woman may seem to have proceeded out of the Man, as a Bough out of the Trunk. 5. For, as the Sun drawing up the moisture of the Earth into the Trunk fixed in the Earth, by percolation through the substance of the Trunk, makes the moisture assume the nature of the Tree, and increase the Trunk, & rise up and be distributed into parts befitting the entire Plant: So God, straining that sleepy humour through the side of Adam, first made the side swell out with a great deal of flesh▪ then be distributed into all the similary parts, and lastly into the dissimilary. 6. And, besides that this Sense is very apt to the words, nothing is more agreeable to the nature of things. For, to the three degrees of Man, the triple procreation corresponds; Adam, as a Mixtum, was formed; Eve, as a Plant, grew out of Adam; Abel, as an Animal, was born of Animals. Besides, reason requires, that, since in Adam there was the next & immediate matter of the Woman, she should not be made out of any other then that: but, like is made out of like by accretion, according to Nature. Moreover, She is produced out of his Side, because there's both flesh and bone and, through the nearness of the Bowels, especially of the Heart to the left side, it necessarily participates more of the Vegetative Virtue than any other member of the exterior Cataphragm. Bringing to, here, is, clearly, to be interpreted, not for a translation from place to place; but, for an Oblation or exhibition. It follows in the Divine History, This, now, is bone of my bones; and for, now, the Hebrews read this time: The force of both terms is the same, viz. that God otherwhiles offered him incongruous things; but, now, something agreeable, and natural. 8. Under the name of Bone and Flesh the whole Body is understood; that is, the rest of the similary parts whereof a Man is compacted. 9 She shall be called, etc. Since what Adam called every living Soul, that is its name, the term given the Woman must signify the proper notion of Woman; which is desumed, not from her Matter, but from her Form and End: how comes, therefore, this name which Adam imposed (even himself being witness) to be taken from the Matter? It must be said, that those words, because she is taken out of Man, do not signify because she is made of Man, which is common with her to Lice and Fleas; but, because she is of the same nature with Man. And, 'tis to be observed, that the Hebrew word signifies prince, or chief, or fundamental, or subsistent: so that the sense may be, Because she is of the nature of Man, to excel the Animals as He himself. 11. Adam says farther, that they should be two in one flesh, or, as the primitive reading has it, into one flesh, viz. three manner of ways; in the Issue, which proceeds from both; in the Woman, since Physicians affirm that the Seed of the Man disappears, being transumed into the flesh of the Woman; and lastly, by Consent for Copulation: for, since that is perfect which is apt to make its like, neither the Man nor the Woman, without one another, is perfect; both, therefore, as they combine to the production of their like, integrate one, Physically-perfect, Animal. 11. Whence, 'tis understood, why God neither said let Woman be made, nor, let us make Woman; but, I will make; for, so, the truth of the holy language has it: namely, because the mixtion of the Elements into Flesh, which was the proper action of the Angels, was already done in the forming of Adam; and the augmentation of that exceeded not the power of Adam's nature; the rest, therefore, was only the concreation of a Soul, which belonged to God alone. CHAP. XI. An explication of Genesis concerning PARADISE. 1. THus, Man was entirely perfected: what misfortunes afterward befell him let's inquire out of the mystical Book. It says, therefore, And the Lord God had planted a Paradise of Pleasure from the beginning, wherein he put the Man whom he had form: The Hebrews read a Garden, which says the same thing; but, what is signified by these names must be sought out of the description. First of all, therefore, we are taught, that, out of the ground, there was born in it every Tree fair to sight and sweet to eat; which, from the description of the Third day, 'tis clear, agrees to the whole Earth. 2. The next is, that the Tree of Life, and the Tree of the Science of Good and evil (as Eve witnesses) were in the middle of Paradise; now, 'tis an Hebrew propriety to say in the middle, for that which is among or within: The letter has it thus, And God made to spring out of the Earth every Tree, fair to sight and sweet to eat; the Tree also, of Life in the middle of Paradise, and the Tree of the Science of Good and evil: that is, All kind of Trees pleasant to sight and taste; among which were good Trees and conducing to life, and some which were apt to make a Man experience evil things as well as good. 3. 'Tis added, that A river went out from the place of Pleasure; the force of the Hebrew word is, out of Pleasure; to water Paradise, & thence 'tis divided into four heads; in the Hebrew, and from there (that is, already in Paradise) 'tis divided and is into four heads. The sense is, that out of the abundance and fertility of the Earth, water sprung in four heads or great Rivers: for 'tis incongruous that one river divided into more, should be said divided into heads, but into branches or arms; nor are there any where found appliably to Paradise, four Rivers, which can ever be conjectured to have flowed from one head; nor can any other place of Pleasure or a more fertile place then Paradise be imagined, from whence this river should flow to water Paradise. 4. And what is here called fertility and abundance, is described to have agreed to the whole Earth, at that time; it being said, that a Fountain ascended out of the Earth, watering the whole superficies of the Earth: Where, the native Text, in stead of Fountain, has a Vapour; whereof the Book of Wisdom seems to speak, when it says that She covered the whole Earth as with a Mist; and, perhaps, the Psalmist, when, after the forming of the Earth, he subjoins, The Abyss is the vestment of its clothing, waters shall stand upon the Mountains. 5. An example, too, of such like we have in some very hot and moist regions; in one of the Canaries, in the Island of Saint Thomas, and some others; that there issues a Vapour out of the Earth, which being refrigerated with the shadow of the Trees, descends in a Rain and feeds the Fountains and Rivers. And, it cannot be, but, out of the Earth yet moist, by the power of the Sun, for some time, such a Vapour must issue and water the Earth, and be derived into Rivers. 6. But, now, the enumeration of the Rivers makes the matter manifest: for it takes the four greatest Rivers known to the Hebrews, and which washed the whole world that they knew; and says that Paradise was watered by them. But, those that labour to derive these Names to other Rivers, run into mere and incoherent Conjectures. 7. The Scripture adds, The Lord God took, therefore, the Man and put him in the Paradise of Pleasure, that he should work and keep it. Ch. 10. N. 4. The Hebrew word for, he took, is the same with that above, when we spoke of Adam's side, and signifies the same as, take in the largest sense; nor, in this place, does it express any other thing then an application or conjunction of God to Adam, and not a local carrying, as, before, 'tis said of the word He brought. But 'tis said above to Adam, that he should take the Earth for his matter to work on, and fill it: We have it, therefore, that the Garden which Adam was to cultivate and inhabit, is the same which he was commanded to fill and subject; and whereof 'tis said that, as yet, there was not the Man to labour it, but a Vapour ascended and watered its universal superficies. Add to these, that the whole Earth was cursed; that the whole, before the curse, was created for Adam and his Issue; which, in a Garden only, could not have had room enough. 8. Consider the honour of Husbandry: both that, of all the Mechanics, 'tis the work that's most proper to mankind: and 'tis a keeping or preserving of the Earth; for the Earth grows better by cultivation, but uncultivated it grows barren &, as it were, perishes. 9 Besides this precept, God added another positive one for nourishing himself, and a negative one for not killing himself by intemperancy. CHAP. XII. The History of ADAM'S FALL, out of Genesis. 1. THe divine Author begins the following History, saying, Moreover, the Serpent was more crafty than all the living Creatures of the Earth: the word which corresponds to Serpent, in the original, is derived from a Verb which signifies to observe or to pry into secrets; wherefore, à priori, it signifies, an Observer, a liar in wait and what in the Gospel, the Tempter: and where the Latin Interpreter puts all living Creatures, the sacred Author uses a very large word which comprehends Man too: So that the sense may be, the Tempter was craftier even than Man himself; as, also, it appeared by the event. 2. He came, therefore, to the Woman and said, Why has God commanded you, etc. in the original letter, even that God has said: as if it should say, was it not enough for God to have obliged you to keep his Garden, but even must he not-permit you to eat? To whom the Woman answered, Yes, we do eat of the rest, but should we eat of the Tree of the Knowledge of good and evil, we should die. 'Tis evident, therefore, this command was given by God, not as out of power and prerogative, but for the good of those to whom 'twas given, and Man is governed by God always for the good of Man himself. 3. The Tempter therefore replies again, You shall not die, but you shall be like Gods: the Analogy of the two Temptations is to be noted, Say that these stones be made bread, and, He forbids you to Eat: He has commanded his Angels concerning thee, and, Ye shall not die: lastly, All these will I give thee, and, Ye shall be like Gods. 4. 'Tis added, The woman, therefore, saw that the Tree was good to eat, and fair and delightful to behold, etc. The Tree is put for the Apple; or, certainly, in respect of the Apple, these things agreed to it. And whereas 'tis said, she saw the apple to be sweet to the taste, or good for food, as the original reading has it; it argues that the Woman, too, to some degree, from the sight of Plants, especially the earnest looking on them, knew their natures. And the Author, instead of this, delightful to behold, has, desired to look earnestly upon, or, to understand; and the sense is, that the Woman saw her Appetite so to have increased, that she could not turn away her Eyes: Or else the word saw signifies considered; and the sense will be, She considered that the Apple was desirable for the Knowledge that would follow it, upon the Tempter's words. 5. The Woman, therefore, eat, and gave, too, to the Man; who was not deceived, that is, did not eat upon a false persuasion, but, as 'tis subjoined, obeyed the voice of his wife: For, alas! he was effeminate, and durst not, through excess of love, oppose his Wife. 6. 'Tis collected out of the circumstances, that the Tempter or lier-in-wait had observed the Woman absent from her Husband, near the forbidden Tree, at the hour when her Appetite to eat made way for his treacheries. 7. But, let us see the effect. The sacred Text, therefore, says, that the eyes of them both were opened and they knew they were naked. But 'tis plain that, not presently upon their eating, but after some time (suppose, when, by concoction, the poison of the Apple was digested into their bowels,) this effect happened: for, if, immediately as soon as the Woman had eaten, her eyes had been opened, she would have blushed and not dared to appear before her Husband; or, at least, being solicitous and troubled about the change she felt, she would have told it him. 8. But, how their eyes were opened and how they knew themselves to be naked, appears by the following action, that they made themselves aprons or girdles, to cover with them the parts destined for generation. Evident, therefore, 'tis that, by their eating the Apple, their flesh rose and was moved without their consent. The effect, therefore, of the Apple was immediately to provoke Lust; &, through the intoxication, as it were, of luxury, to shake off the use or command of Reason. 9 The very description, too, of the Fruit insinuates it to have this virtue. For, Physicians say that sweet is primely nutritive, as consisting of hot and moist connatural to the Animal; and that, whatever nourishes does it, in as much as 'tis sweet: Good, therefore, for food (when 'tis spoken by way of eminency) is, what is very nutritive: but Seed is made of the superfluity of the nourishment: Good, therefore, to the taste, or, for food, shows it was provokative of lust. The splendour, too, of colour, since it proceeds out of a good commixtion of subtle and oily parts, is apt to follow the sweetness. CHAP. XIII. Of the Punishment of our first Parents: out of the same. 1. IT follows in the History, And when they had heard the voice of the Lord God walking in Paradise, at the cool, after noon; The Hebrew says, when they had heard the noise of him coming into the garden at the aspiring of the day, or daybreak: and the sense is, that God, in the Morning, with the cool air which goes before or accompanies the Sun, came into the Garden; namely, to be adored by Adam: whence, when Adam appeared not, but had hidden himself in the middle of the Trees of Paradise, that is, among the Trees, which were very thick, He called him. And this sense seems the better: for, what could be the end why God should appear a-walking? besides, that the cool of the day is better understood the Morning than the Evening; whence, in the Canticles, 'tis said of the Morning, Till the day aspire and the shadows be inclined: for, not that which is done by the day retiring, but what the day brings along with it, is properly attributed to the Day. 2. 'Tis added, how God examined Adam and Eve; but He punished the Tempter without an examen, as being a professed enemy and of a known malice. The first punishment is, that He should be cursed of all living Creatures; for so, the primitive expression has it, not among living Creatures. The second the Latin Interpreter puts to be, thou shalt go upon thy breast: but the Hebrew word derives from a verb which signifies to sigh, or, to burst out, as it were, the issue out of one in travail; so that, the sense may be, In sighing and grief as of one in travail, that is, Thy whole life and all thy actions shall be full of grief and pain. 3. The third is, Thou shalt eat Earth, but the Hebrew says, thou shalt destroy Dust all the days of thy life; which seems the better; for Serpents corrupt the Earth with their breath, but do not eat it, that I ever read. Nor hinders it, that, in Isaiah we read, To the Serpent dust is his bread: for, That was not to be in the holy Mountain, which was the effect of Malediction: Better, therefore, 'tis explicated, to the Serpent ashes to warm him; that is, the Serpent shall be no longer an enemy to Man, but shall dwell in the Chimneys, (as 'tis read of some domestical ones); whence, 'tis immediately subjoined, They shall not hurt nor kill in all my holy Mountain. In the text of Genesis, the same word is put for dust which was in the forming of Man: that the sense may be, Thy design shall not be against Angels, like thyself; but how thou mayst undo such as are made of Earth. 4. Out of what has been said concerning the Tempter, it appears, there's no necessity of interpreting that the Devil should have come to the Woman by the means of a real Serpent, or in the figure of a Serpent; but in a form like that, in which he came to our Lord Christ: For, first, most of the things that are said agree not to a real Serpent; viz. to be craftier than any living Creature; to be able to speak, without frighting the woman; to speak not of things they saw, but of Gods. 5. Again, his being cursed of all living Creatures, his being cursed to eat Earth, agree not to a real Serpent: and that one only thing which agrees, viz. to go in upon his breast; since 'tis a natural manner of creeping, was had by Creation. Wherefore, the opinion of a Serpent or a Serpent's figure seems to have proceeded from the equivocation of the Hebrew word, or, a Metaphorical use of a Serpent for the Devil. 6. The following Prophecy, too, concerns the Devil, not a Serpent: For a Serpent is no more an enemy to Man then to the other Animals; but the Devil is to Christ; and he bruises the heel of Christ, in as much as he debauches and masters the lowest rank of Christians, or the wicked; Christ too, breaks his head, both because He is to judge the Angels, as also because He takes away the power the Devil has in the world. 7. There follow, the Evils which seize on the Woman through sin; that She should have more and harder labours; that She should be under the power of her husband, and be oppressed by him. And, that this violent Subjection proceeds from sin, is plain enough; since it rises from the indiscretion of both parties: Bringing forth, also, with pain, evidently, proceeds from the same; for, even yet, many Women under the Aequator, bring forth with little or no pain: now, the pain in Travail comes through the dryness of the members, by reason whereof the Bone cannot give place, which is easily conjectured to proceed from the intemperateness of the Air and of Meats. 8. Lastly, that her Conceptions are more is manifest, in respect of Abortions and imperfect Conceptions: but, whether through the intemperancy of Copulation; or the shortness of the time of going with child, which, may be, should have been longer; and lastly, whether, because in the immortal state of Paradise there should not have been requisite so copious an Issue, therefore the Conceptions should have been fewer, 'tis disputable. 9 Among the maledictions of Adam, the rest appear plainly to proceed from the sterility of the Earth; but this, that he should eat the herb of the field, seems, from the beginning, to have been indulged him as a blessing, & here 'tis reputed amongst his punishments: But, the sense is, that he should be compelled to lay up in Barns the herbs of the field to eat; because, sometimes, the Earth should yield none. 10. Moreover, those words, till thou returnest into the Earth out of which thou art taken, etc. clearly show that he should have been immortal; that is, have lived a long time, and afterwards, not be devested but cloathed-over, as the Apostle speaks. 11. It follows, how he was cast out of Paradise; and 'tis said, that, Adam being cast out, God placed, before the Paradise of Pleasure, a Cherubin & a flaming and turning sword, to keep the way of the Tree of life. To understand which, we must reflect upon the universal cause of the Corruption of all things, especially of Living Creatures. And, because Animals are cold in death, 'tis plain, that Cold is the cause of Death; whence, we see, that Winter is, as it were, the old Age of the Year, The years, therefore, had continued in one state of heat and cold in Paradise; and to introduce Winter, is to make life shorter, & to have brought Death nearer. 12, The cause, therefore, of the variety of the year is the cause of Death: and this, Astronomers teach, happens, because the Earth keeps not still it's same parts to the Sun, or in that it conforms not its Axis to the Axis of the Ecliptic, but always turns it from the Poles of the Ecliptic to the Poles of the Aequator; & this, Naturalists teach us, happens through that motion, by which the Flux of the Sea turns the Earth; and, the Flux of the Sea, from a Wind which the Sun under the Aequator raises. 13. Let's see what the sacred monuments express concerning this: First, therefore, They say, that which was to be done was, therefore, done, lest, perhaps, he should reach out his hand and take of the Tree of Life, and eat, and live a full age, or a thousand years: whence, 'tis evident, that the virtue of the Tree of Life was not wholly to exempt from Death, but to defer it and make to live in seculum, that is, a long time; which virtue there's no doubt is taken away by the impairing of the Fruits. 14. Then, that which our translation says before Paradise, others render from the East to Paradise. If, therefore, (as we have said) the whole Earth was Paradise, and the motion of the Earth proceeds from the Sun, the cause of the conversion of the Earth is from the East, and, to be from the East is, to be before the Earth and Paradise. Moreover, that which ours renders a Cherubin and a flaming and turning sword, in the original is a Cherubin & the edge of a sword turning itself. The one Phrase shows that the force of Death proceeded from a Cherubin by flames and fire; and the other, by turning: Now, that the Sun's motion proceeds from a Cherubin or an Angel, Metaphysics demonstrate: If, therefore, that winding of the terrestrial Axis to the Poles of the Aequator, be derived from the Sun; and, from that, the nature of Death, by the variation of light and heat; is it not evident (if a sword may signify a kill power) how a Cherubin, with a flaming and turning sword, keeps the way to the Tree of life, lest Man should live by it a full age. 15. And, he that thinks this interpretation, of a sword for a kill power, too hard; let him remember the Angel, in the threshing floor of Ornam, holding a drawn sword to bring the Plague upon Jerusalem. Let him consider, also, if the name of Sword be taken materially, how disagreeable the narration will be: for, the Angel should have been placed, not from the East, or, before Paradise, but round about: nor would there be any need of a turning sword, but of a sharp one; for, the Angel could have turned it, as he pleased. 16. Lastly, the clothing of Adam and his wife with Coats made of skins, manifestly insinuates that the Cold grew upon them; the Year, as it were, now inclining towards Winter: whence, it seems, 'twas Autumn in that Region where Adam was created. Yet, 'tis not necessary, that God must have given them those Coats of skins immediately upon the malediction, but after some time; when, having done Penance, they had sacrificed Beasts to God: with whose skins God covered them, not so much for their nakcdnesse sake, which was covered with Aprons, as for the Colds, and therefore they were made of skins with which Beasts are kept warm. CHAP. XIV. Of the Evils derived to posterity: out of the same. 1. NOne doubts, nor can, according to what we have said, but this state of infelicity and Death is derived to us, the Posterity of Adam, from his Sin: but, what evil or corruption we derive, as to the Mind, 'tis to be considered. And, first, 'tis evident, that the Understanding of Adam was most happy; which so easily attained the knowledge of things, that, at first sight, he could impose significant names upon every one. 2. Which is not so to be understood, that he perfectly saw through all things: for, from the deceit of Eve, and both their hiding themselves from the face of God, 'tis clear, their discourse was short and imperfect at that time. Nor, is it believed that they lost their natural force: wherefore, by nature, their understanding was so hinderable by Passion, as to bring them to such Inconsideration. 3. But, we read, too, that they were naked, and blushed not before their Sin, but afterwards: whence, we understand, there were before no inordinate Motions in them, since, in lust, the most vehement kind, they had none. 4. Now, for Man to have no inordinate Motions in him, may happen two ways: One, that we should assert there were indeed such Motions, but, as it were, rooted out by a long use and exercise of Virtues: another way, that we should imagine his nature so temperate and equally balanced between Passions; that it should submit itself entirely to Reason, out of its own equability, and not out of an acquired dominion of Reason. 5. And, since God might have created Man in the perfection of either of these; if we consider the circumstance of the newness of nature, we shall rather assent to the later description: for the former state is of one already proceeded from power to act; but this later is a certain species of potentiality, or of Man, as to his Soul, existing in power: that, the state of Man grown good, of evil that he was; this, of Man not yet knowing good and evil, or, untaught by experience: To that Man 'tis now hard to Sin, and certain that he will not be separated from the love of Christ; to this, 'tis easy not-to-sin, but Sin is rather unknown to him then hard, and consequently, his entrance to good or evil is doubtful: That state is more established in the Brain through the exercise of Reason; this more in the Body, through the goodness of its Temperature; whence, this is more propagable to his Issue, though that be so, too, in some degree. 6. Since, therefore, Philosophy teaches, that even that complexion of nature, which rises from acquired habits and exercise, is apt to be derived to the Issue; much more that, which was by Nature planted in Adam, would have passed into his Posterity. His Children, therefore, had he not sinned, would have attained, from their Origin, a certain equability of Passions, whereby they would have grown easily obedient to Reason; or rather, they would have had no passion more vehement than was just fit, so that they would have felt no difficulty in following right Reason: from which disposition he seems not to have St. Bernard▪ been far, of whom 'tis wonderfully said, that Adam, in him, had not sinned. 7. Whence, the perverse motion of the will in our first Parents, was apt to proceed only from extrinsecall solicitation: So, we see, in the answer of Eve, that she was content with the command; till the Devil, proposing a show of fallacious reason, which she could not see through, had fastened, as it were, her mind to the delectable form of the Apple before her; by which fastening, that natural equality was corrupted: which, too, in like manner, happened to Adam, through his amorous fixedness to his wife; as may be collected out of his words, wherein there's no praising of God the giver, but only a commemoration of the loveliness of the woman. 'Tis evident, therefore, that the natural principles of motion and passion were corrupted in both our Parents; and so, in Generation, an inequality was derived to their issue: not one equal to Theirs, but one far greater; it being now corrupted from the change of site to the Heavens, and the quality of the Air and Food: and so, irrecoverably their Posterity drew from the Womb of their Mother an Origin or inclination to sin. 8. Which negation of equability, because 'tis in a subject to which an equality is due by its Creation, attains the nature of a privation: and, because the guilt of Adam is in it, or, because we derive our Origin from him, 'tis, therefore, called ORIGINAL, not formal, SIN: and, because 'tis impossible that Man, infected with this, can live without sin, by the strength of nature & without new Grace; therefore Nature is called the Slave of Sin, and given up into slavery to the Devil. But, whether Original sin comprehends, besides an indisposition of the sensitive Soul, a privation of Charity consequent from it, in the Issue, (because there's nothing offered out of our text, spoken concerning that matter) I leave to the curious. 9 It suffices us that, out of what has been said, it may be understood, how Original Sin is singular in every one, how 'tis derived by Generation, and how it proceeds from the fault of another. 10. Of these things that have been said, I know not whether we have not, in some measure, an Example in Cain and Abel: Cain being conceived in Sin, (perhaps, the very night after eating the forbidden fruit, before God, by punishment, had provoked them to Penance); Abel, in the time of Penance: whence, Cain contracted, in the conception, his Mother's envy against God; Abel her humility and piety; wherefore, what our Interpreter renders I have possessed a Man by God, may be more truly translated, I have loved a Man against God. CHAP. XV. Of the Propagation of Mankind: out of the same. 1. AFter the Death of his Brother, Cain departed into the barrener parts (as appears, from his Curse): And, this was the first occasion of filling the several quarters of the Earth. And, he is said to have sojourned towards the East from Eden; or rather, towards the West, for the original letter has it, he sat down in a strange Country before Eden, that is, he dwelled in a far Country before Eden, that is, to which the face of Eden is turned, (Adam and his Family being supposed to look after him when he went from them), that is, to the West, or, having Eden Eastward. Now Eden seems to be called that Country in which Adam dwelled, in memory of the Pleasure he had there. 2. And the sacred Author prosecutes the Generations of Cain to the seventh descent; and tells us the Cities that were built, and the Arts both for use and pleasure invented in them. But, how many years each generation contained, he mentions not: but, 'tis likely, they were shorter than the generations assigned to Seth; whence, in the time of Enos (which extends to about a thousand years after the nativity of Henoch, the firstborn of Cain) the children of Adam, on Cain's side, may have been exceedingly multiplied, and that happened which is written, that, in his time, The invocation of the name of the Lord was polluted, viz. in most of the posterity of Seth and Adam, through their Marriages with the daughters of Cain. 3. For, since the Sons of Seth, and the rest that lived with Adam, may seem to have followed a Pastoral life, and to have lived temperately; but the Daughters of Cain to have been delicate and luxurious: there appears on the Male's side strength and virility; and, on the Female's, abundance of Moisture, figurable by heat; whence, 'tis consonant, that a vast and robust issue was born out of their conjunction. And, out of confidence of their great forces, men are prone to fall to injuring and oppressing the weak: whence, Lamech called it a consolation, to kill all mankind; according to the byword that says, 'Tis better to be alone then ill accompanied. 4. But, whether they were of a huge stature of body, such as we call Giants, appears not out of the sacred History; where nothing else is said, but that they were Oppressors, Strong, and such as got themselves a Name, or fame. CHAP. XVI. Of the FLOOD: out of the same. 1. WHen, therefore, they were impenitent, whilst No built the Ark, to save the few just, that is, eight persons; the waters began to pour down upon the Earth; which Genesis describing, says thus. Such a year, month, and day, all the Fountains of the great Abyss were broken up, and the Cataracts of Heaven were opened, & there was made a Rain upon the Earth forty days and forty nights. The original text, for were broken up, has, slit themselves, and, for Cataracts, a word which signifies occult cavities, from a word which imports as much as, to lie in wait; as if it would say, that the Repositories of heaven, wherein God had placed, as it were, waters in ambush, were opened. 2. To these is to be added that place, in the Second of Peter, wherein 'tis said, there was of old a Heaven and an Earth, of waters and by waters consisting, by the word of God, by which that world, then, overflowed with waters, perished: But, it cannot be understood, as if the Earth consisted of Water; which is no where written, but rather the contrary, viz. that the Earth was created together with the Waters: the sense, therefore, is, that Heaven consists of waters, the Earth by waters, to wit, mingled together by that mighty fire (whereof largely above): Chap. 3. Consisting, therefore, is referred to both, though it be construed with the later. 3. It says, then, that the old world was overflowed by these two waters; whence, 'tis evident, those are distinct waters which are, here, called the Cataracts of heaven, from those called the fountains of the great abyss. Now, we find no more about Heaven, after the Fourth Day, but that, a vapour ascended from the Earth to water the universal face of the Earth: and, that the Earth was covered with a Mist: and as much concerning the Sea; job speaking in the person of God, when I put it on a Cloud for its vestment, & wrapped it in darkness as in the clothes of Infancy. For, these signify, that the Air was thick, and misty; there sweeting, by the Sun's force, as it were, a perpetual watery humour out of the Earth, whose thinner parts were of necessity continually raised up into Clouds: which could not fall, for a time, whilst the Air, quite up to them, was thick and as heavy as they: but, after, the Earth being dried, the Air between the Earth and the Clouds, became itself, too, more dry and subtle, the terrestrial humidity being spent; then, at length, with a mighty vehemence, the long-treasur'd-up waters in the clouds descended; in such abundance, that the Fountains which broke out from the more eminent parts of the Earth were so overcharged, they slit their channels and, with open Torrents, roul'd into the Rivers, and they, oreflowing their banks, all at once into the Sea. Thus, therefore, by the waters whereof the former Heavens consisted, that is, the midst between the Earth and the Stars, and by which the Earth consisted, viz. which lay hid in its bowels, the whole Earth was o'erflowed in the time of Noe. 4. And the History tells, that the waters rose fifteen Cubits above the tops of the Mountains: now, 'tis not incredible that some Men were so tall; so that this quantity of water was altogether necessary; nay, if there had been strong Trees upon the highest Mountains, which could have resisted the water, this proportion of water had been less than needed. 5. For, since, after the Deluge, Og may seem to have been nine Cubits high; before the Deluge, 'tis credible enough, there were some near fifteen: Though, to persuade one's self, there were ever Men of that vastness which is attributed to the Cyclops, and certain Relics found in the New World, there needs a great faith; for, these stories depend on uncertain memories, or on conjectures of Men talking, according to likelihood, of old Bones. 6. But, to return to the abundance of the waters. The severer Mathematicians, now adays, do not believe any Mountain to be higher, perpendicularly, than one Italian mile: nor need we believe the Mountains, before the Flood, were so high as they are now the valleys are hollowed deeper with continual Rains. If, therefore, fifteen Cubits be abated from the highest Mountains, make account the water rose a Mile, perpendicular, about the Earth. 7. Whence, 'twill be deduced, that about an equal proportion of water out of the Clouds and out of the bowels of the Earth concurred to the Deluge: for, if a Pail set in the open Air in a very violent rain, will be filled a cubit's height in an hour; in forty days and forty nights, a continual and vehement rain from all parts of the Heavens, would o'erflow the whole Earth little less than a thousand Cubits high: as much, therefore, or more water was to be strained out of the Earth, that the Flood might rise to a thousand Paces high. 8. Which to render credible, reflect upon the artifice of Husbandmen, not unusual amongst us, by which they draw some feets depth of water over their barrener grounds; with the weight whereof the superficies of the Earth being loaded, is pressed down & constipated with the lower Earth, & so fills those hollownesses into which the Air's entrance caused the barrenness; whereupon they are rendered fruitful. From which experiment, 'tis evident, that a huge weight of water brought upon the Earth must compress it, strain out the water which was hid in it, and repress its swelling; and consequently, constipate the Earth and force it into a lesser Circle. Since, therefore, the power of the Deluge may easily be believed to have extended itself three miles perpendicular within the Earth, (for the Sea is judged so deep, now, in the deepest parts): let the Earth but have contracted itself one sixth part of those three miles, and you have water pressed out of its own bowels to cover it five hundred paces round about. We have, therefore, a fit proportion of water for so great an effect, if we can contrive whence so much water may have ascended into the Clouds. 9 But, if the little less than two thousand years' space be reflected on, in which the Sun raised up perpetual vapours to the very Sphere of the Moon, and perhaps higher; and kept them there, by reason of the continual thickness of that Air between the Earth and Heaven▪ It will be easily credible, that there were Clouds amassed together enough to pour down forty days and nights violent Rain; which, we have said, is sufficient for the effect. CHAP. XVII. Of the Cessation of the Deluge: out of the same. 1 THe inspired Writer prosecutes the abatement of the water; which he divides into four parts: to the resting of the Ark upon the mountains of Armenia, a hundred and ten days; thence, till the appearing of the mountains tops, about seventy days; from those, to the time when the superficies of the Earth showed itself; and from thence, to the entire dryness, almost as many days as in he first part, divided almost equally. 2. The causes of so unequal decrease are two, deduced from the letter: a Wind which God raised; and a motion of the water, proceeding from the Wind. As for the Wind, 'tis clear, when the Sun began, now, to shine bright, the Clouds being dispersed, and there was nothing but water upon which it might act; there could no other wind be raised, than such as, even now, we experience in that vast Clime of the Pacifick and Atlantic Seas: though we must needs think 'twas far more both vehement and ample, when there were no Shores at all whence Contrary winds might blow, and contract its bounds. 3. The first part, therefore, of the abatement was made by this Wind, through the mediation of the Sun, which turned the Waters into Wind: and the Wind, now dried, dried the waters by adhesion, as we see it does Linen clothes, by carrying away with it the watery parts. 4. And the Ark is believed to have rested upon the highest Mountain in those parts. The Hebrews say, that it sunk twelve Cubits into the water; still, therefore, by this account, the water was twelve Cubits above the neighbouring Mountains: but, these Cubits by reason of the former contraction of the Sphere of the waters, were less, in proportion, than those whereof there were fifteen before above the highest Mountains; as also, than those which the water had abated, from the top of the highest Mountain to the top of that upon which the Ark rested: wherefore, to these Cubits, about seventy days are assigned. 5. From the discovery of the Mountain-tops, to the appearing of the Earth's superficies, about fifty five days more are counted: both because every day the Sphere became more contracted, and the Sun more ardent through the reflection from the higher parts of the Earth; as also, because the motion of the water, now, concurred; whereof the divine Book says nothing but and the waters returned from the Earth, going and coming, and again, but the waters went, and decreased. There can be no doubt, but this motion of the waters, since it proceeded from the Wind, which rose from the Sun, followed, principally, Its course, that is, was from East to West; and consequently, that the water is said to have gone and come, because the water which was moved under the Aequator, farther off from the Aequator returned, by the force of gravity; because the water was lower in those parts out of which it had been expulsed by the Wind: And this, till the mountain tops appeared, was regular; but, afterwards, by encountering the mountains and higher parts of the Earth, this course of the water, at least in those parts, was interrupted. 6. Whence, there's no farther mention of it; though its effect towards drying up the water began then to be greatest: For, by this flux of the water, the Earth, by degrees, was heaped up towards the mountains, and there was a more ample Channel digged for the waters, especially in that part which was to remain covered with them. Whence, the fourth book of Esdras witnesses, that, at the Creation of the World, there remained only a seventh part covered with waters; but, now, Cosmographers will have the Superficies to be half Sea. 7. Moreover, by this agitation, if any Cave remained empty within the Earth, there was a passage opened to it for the waters. Whence it appears, what became of such a mighty bulk of water: for no little part of it was consumed by the Sun in Wind, and to condense the upper Air to that proportion which was convenient for the nature of things; another part was swallowed up into the cavities of the Earth; the rest, having digged itself a vast Channel, remained in that part of the Earth, which we, now, call Sea. 8. But, I must not pass over this place, without advising that the Cause of the flux and reflux of the Sea is clearly taught to proceed from the Wind, B. 3. Les. 13. as 'tis explicated in Physics, the Scripture strait adding, and the waters returned from the Earth, going and coming, immediately after the bringing the Spirit upon the Earth. But, some may object, that, during the forty day's rain, there was no such wind; and consequently, no Flux of the Sea neither; and, because the Diurnal motion follows from that, neither can there have been Days and Nights. 9 'Tis answered, Such vast Clouds and Rain could not happen without Tempests; and consequently, since this Rain was regular, a regular Wind, too, accompanied it; and this, according to the course of the Sun, since the greatest heat is not to be expected but under the Sun: The Wind, therefore, was more vehement those forty days, to roll about such a Mass of waters; whence the equality of days and nights may have been preserved either wholly or very near. 'Tis a sign, too, of a Wind, that the Ark is said to be carried upon the waters, and to have rested upon a Mountain, whereas 'twas made in a Valley. 10. The sacred Historian seems to add two other causes of the decrease of the waters, viz. the shutting up of the Fountains of the Abyss, and of the Cataracts of Heaven, or the prohibition of Rain from Heaven: But, this later cause is clearly an effect of the wind's being calmed and of the Clouds being all spent, as already fallen down upon the Earth: And the former is an effect of the drying of the Mountains; for because the Mountains were dried, vapours began to ascend into their tops, which flowed out in little channels and rivulets, as before the Deluge: whence, it appears that their reading, too, who interpret it the fountains of the Abyss were revealed, comes to the same thing. CHAP. XVIII. Of the Covenant made with NO after the Flood: out of the same. 1. AT length, No and his family being gone out of the Ark, God made a Covenant with them, that he would overwhelm the Earth no more with waters: and placed for a sign of the Covenant, His Bow in the Clouds. And that the Rainbow is, indeed, a sign there shall be no Deluge at that time, is evident from hence, that, unless the Sun shine otherwhere, there appears no Rainbow; 'tis clear, therefore, that there is not enough Rain in the Clouds, to overwhelm the Earth. 2. But, since, these words were said to No, who had already lived six hundred years; if he had beheld the Rainbow so many years, and afterwards experienced the Flood; he could not but have wondered it should import such a signification: We must say, therefore, that, without doubt, the Rainbow was never used to be seen before the Flood; nor is it hard to render a reason on't, out of what has been said. 3. For, since Naturalists tell us, a Rainbow is made out of a double or triple reflection or refraction of light in every drop of a light show'ry cloud; whence proceeds this variety of colours: and light, so weak and scattered, or, the foresaid colours, cannot reach our Eyes at such a distance, unless the Air be very clear and pure: and, through the humidity of the Earth joined with heat, a thick Air enveloped the Earth all that time: 'Twas absolutely impossible a Rainbow should be seen. 4. Besides, it seems, that, for all the later years, a great mass of Clouds must needs have so covered the face of the Heavens, that the Sun was rather felt then seen; as we find 'tis, for whole weeks, sometimes, together, in Winter in those Northern Countries which, yet, are not excessively cold. No wonder, therefore, the Rainbow had not showed itself before the Flood. 5. Next, 'tis to be observed how God contracted the Age of men, and with what he requited it. Now, 'tis evident, that the Earth, by means of the Deluge, became far colder and drier: That 'twas colder, after such a Mass of waters, so long, not only covering and compressing it, but penetrating into its very bowels, any one will believe. 6. But, that water should dry, will perhaps hardlyer relish: but, if we consider, that sodden things are rendered dry, through the extraction of their natural moisture, when they are too much boiled: if we reflect that Trees are thrown by Timber-men into water, lest their native moisture should exuberate into rottenness and worms; and after a convenient time they are taken out again dryer then at first: if we observe that Distillers, to extract the moisture of Herbs, besprinkle the plants they are about with water or some other proportionate liquor: if lastly, we remember that Goldsmiths, to separate the Silver, mixed, in a little quantity, with other metals, mix more Silver withal: 'Twill be evident, that, when the Earth redounded with well-digested moisture, there was no better way of drying it, then, by adding another moisture, to render that was in it more separable, and press out both together; as Nature itself operates in rottenness. 7. Supposing, therefore, the Earth became both colder and drier, the Plants and Animals must of necessity have drawn a more malignant juice & food out of it. For, since Vegetation consists in heat & moisture; Death, and Old Age must be in their opposites, and out of them, be derived to living Creatures: wherefore, since, after the Deluge, men sometimes lived 150 & 200 years, the long life of the Patriarches before the Flood, mentioned in the Scriptures, is not incredible. Hence 'tis that Animals were now assigned to man for food: and, 'tis not said, that he shall rule over them, as at the beginning; but the terror of him shall be upon the other Animals: For, at first, they served him as Instruments; but now they were to become fierce and wild, whence man would contrive to kill them, and they, consequently, like perverse servants, fly and be afraid of him, as their chastiser. 8. And, these indeed God gave to man; but another thing far greater. For, because the Earth was become drier, the Air too round about man was made purer and thinner; and, both by his Food and by the Air, his Body was rendered, as, not so vast and durable, so, more subtile-spirited and more apt to be subjected to his Soul, and fitter for the operations proper to it. 9 Men, therefore, grew sharper witted and more addicted to Sciences and Arts; and, by consequence, computing all things, the World became better and perfecter: since, there would, necessarily, be many more men, by reason of the littleness of their Bodies, and such frequent changes, through the shortness of their lives; and yet, nay much the rather, more forward and riper for the eternal life of the future world. CHAP. XIX. Of the second propagation of Mankind into several Countries: Out of the same holy History. 1. IT remains, for describing perfectly the Beginning of the World, to declare how the benediction, given to No and his Sons, to increase and fill the earth, began to be fulfilled. The divinely-delivered History, therefore, says, that the first offspring of No agreed perfectly together, and were very unwilling to separate: which is collected out of those words, that, in the original text, say the Earth was one lip and the same words: for, that a lip signifies the words of men, is found, by the sense, every where; as, when they are called Deceitful lips, Our lips are from ourselves, and in a thousand other places; but, where 'tis taken for a Language, I know not. 2. But, because the sense of the following terms must be different, and the same words; this Phrase will signify that they desired and sought how to remain united, as 'tis said more manifestly below. Whence, 'tis no light suspicion, that this mind in them proceeded from the instigation of some One that affected a Tyranny over Mankind; which some Historians, also, witness. 4. Proceeding, therefore, in this thought, they sat down in the fields about Babylon; and there, either mutually impelled by one another, or else by some one, as I said, they deliberated from the opportunity & commodiousness of Bricks and Pitch, to build themselves a City and a Tower: for two reasons, To get themselves a Name, and to prevent their being dispersed over the Earth; for, so the Hebrew reading has it, lest perhaps, or rather, least at any time, which ours renders before. 5. They imagined, therefore, that, fixing their abode, by reason of the commodiousness of the vast City, and for the famousness of the Tower, which would have no fellow, all men would willingly stay about those places. Of the Tower 'tis said in the Hebrew, whose head in Heaven, that is, where the Birds fly, or even the Clouds; intimating, that they designed to continue on this edifice even to the Clouds, which Naturalists say, sometimes, are not raised more than 340 paces above the Earth: which height is not so vast and extravagant that it might not fall into the thoughts of men, and even be perfected, too; according to what God said, that They would not desist, till they should have accomplished them in deed. 5. But God turned their own very counsels upon their own heads: for the fond pains, and perhaps, (which some Histories insinuate) because the Tower, when it had been brought to a very great height, was thrown down by the winds and lightnings, (as it uses to happen to extreme high Fabrics) made them weary of the work and its Author, so that they would no longer obey him, nor even agree together: but several Companies, as they could agree among themselves, departed into several countries; the Author of the work, with those that consented to him, remaining still in Babylon. 6. And, this explication is clear, nor in any sort violent to the letter; and according to the nature of things: whereas, that which the most follow contains so vast a Miracle (and whereof we have no other example, unless, perhaps, in the effusion of the Holy Ghost); that it may seem violent to extract it out of words, in their ordinary sense, signifying another thing. For, to be of one lip, & lips to be confounded or Tongues, agrees with common sense to signify, the one, consent, the other, dissension: but to transfer these to multitude of languages is less natural: which yet, if otherwise there were a sufficient Authority, to show the effect done, is no ways to be rejected; but, if the whole story draws its original from this only Text, it will have no bottom nor solidity. 7. But hence, perhaps, some may ground their belief, that 'Tis not easy to imagine whence Languages should have been divided amongst mankind, and have grown into so many kinds. To which we reply, that, whoever shall but observe what is usual in his own City or Country, will easily discern how so great a variety of Dialects has grown into the world. For, 'tis evident, the perfection of a Language consists among the Better-bred; and the rude People corrupt the less usual words, those that speak fast cut them short, the Country folks likewise make a special pronunciation of their own. Add to these, that divers Cities and Provinces have formed Dialects of their own; which yet, there's no doubt, are contained all under one Idiom. 8. Consider, then, the minglings of distinct languages; a Country sometimes being subdued by a Nation of a different Idiom; sometimes, by the frequent Travels of single persons, the words of one Idiom being derived to another. 9 Lastly, let's reflect on the original root of diversity: Which consists in this, That, words are composed of Vowels and Consonants; and the differences of Vowels rise from a wider or a more formed and regular opening both of the Mouth and Throat; but, that of Consonants proceeds from an interception of the Breath going out through the divers organs of the Teeth, Lips, Tongue; from its allision to them and the Palate of the mouth; with some help of the Nostrils and the shutting up of the Throat. 10. Now, 'tis evident, these members and instruments of Voice are composed of the Elements; and consequently, from their temperament, are more disposed to one motion then to another; and, which follows, that, from the Site of the Regions where men live, they are more inclined to some Vowels or Consonants then to others: whence it comes to pass, that, without any farther pains, Vowels and Consonants are changed by little and little, and there's such a diversity made, that they can no longer understand one another. 11. And, that the difference of Idioms grew after this manner, from the very beginning; it may be hence conjectured, because the chaldaic, Syriack, Arabic Tongues discover a manifest derivation from and affinity with the Hebrew. And, that the Egyptian, too, of old sprung from it, seems hence conjecturable, that In all the Peregrinations of the Patriarches, or even the commerces of the Kings with Egypt, there's no where any mention that They did not understand one another: moreover, the Egyptian names commemorated in Scripture, as Moses, Pharaoh, Nechao, Putiphar etc. are Hebrew names, too. Farther, 'tis plain, that the very name Babel is Hebrew; which, yet, remained to the City from which the Family of Heber is believed to have departed, and to have gone and resided far enough off; if indeed Melchisedech was of that Family. 12. To conclude, it seems natural to the Original Tongue to be very short, viz. of Monosyllables only, as much as concerns the primitive words: and the primitive words, of necessity, are of a determinate number, since, we scarce find more than seven first-Consonants; for the rest are varied either in a greater or less aspiration, or by the composition of more together; whence, 'twould be no hard thing to find the number of all the primitive words: wherefore, 'tis clear, there cannot be many original Idioms, whose primitive words should be Monosyllables. 13. Some will object, the Hebrew is an Original, and yet not all its primitive words are Monosyllables: v. gr. Adam, Eva, Shamaim, (which name God imposed upon Heaven) Abel, etc. and finally, Babel itself. 14. 'Tis answered, Adam, Abel, and Eva are monosyllables; for, in Adam, and Abel, the Article is joined to the name: For, since God imposed the name upon Adam, 'tis impossible he should have called him Adam from the name of the Earth: for, since Adama signifies primarily a special nature of Earth, which is red, and the name is transferred thence to the whole Earth; moreover, that sort of Earth took the name of its Colour, and the colours name is from the primitive dam which signifies blood; 'tis not credible that God gave such a derivative name to Man. Adam, therefore, is, as it were, hadam, that is, the like, viz. to God. In like manner the name of Abel is Bel, that is, confusion; as also Babel signifies not confusion, but in confusion. The name of Heaven is a derivative from the primitive mai, which is a monosyllable. But, the Dissyllables which constitute the Substance of that Language as 'tis amongst us, are compounded, though they seem to us primitives. 15 Thus, therefore, the second time, was the world, by division, replenished with men: God turning our Evils and Vices into Good to us; and His Providence so punishing our ills, and changing our goods into better, according to that of the Apostle, We know that, to those that love God, all things cooperate for good, to those who, according to his purpose, are called Saints.