YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

Bought with the income
of the
STARLING W. CHILDS FUND

ON THE INFINITE.

LONDON :
PRINTED BY" WALTON AND MITCHELL, WARDOUR STREET, OXFORD STREET.

OUTLINES
OF
A PHILOSOPHICAL ARGUMENT
ON THE
INFINITE,
AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION;
AND ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY.

EMANUEL SWEDENBORG,
Ct I
LATH MEMBER OP THE HOUSE OP NOBLES IN TUE nOYAI, DIET OF SWEDEN,
ASSESSOR OF TUE ROTAL METAlJilC COI.IEGB 01' SWEDEN,
FELLOW OF TCE ROYAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES OF, -UFSALA, AND OF TIIE ROYAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES
OF STOCKHOLM,
CORRESPONDrNO MEMBER OP TIIE IMPERIAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES OF ST. FETEBSBtfBG.

TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN

JAMES JOHN GARTH WILKINSON,
MBMHER of the royal college of SVRGEONS of LONDON.

LONDON:
WILLIAM NEWBERY, 6, KING STREET, HOLBORN ;
OTIS CLAPP, SCHOOL STREET, BOSTON, U. S.
1847.

CONTENTS.
Page
Introductory Remarks by the Translator  ix
Dedication  1
Preface  3
CHAPTER I.
Rational philosophy— what  5
The infinite is the difiiculty of philosophy  6
Speaking generally, there is no relation between the infinite and the finite . . 7
Specifically, with regard to extension and space, there is no relation between
the infinite and the finite  8
In respect of motion and celerity, there is no relation between the infinite
and the finite  9
Is the infinite the pure and simple ?  ib.
Is the infinite eternal .'  10
The subject taken up, and concluded in the aflirmative  12
Ought we to reason about infinity ?  ib.
Reason is to be used  14
Is there an infinite, or not ? is the first question  15
What can be the cause of the existence of the first natural principle ?  ib.
The mind is bound to acknowledge the infinite, as an answer to the question
of cause  17
 In answer to the question of the cause of the least or first principle of
nature  ib.

vi CONTENTS. Paso 1 Q
Whence the infinite ? 
When did the infinite originate ?  '*•
What is the distinctive quale of the primitive entity of nature .'  20
We grant that all things issued naturaUy ii-om this primitive entity  21
In the primitives lay the quality of producing the consequences  22
We admire all natural things in their cause  **•
Was all natm^e once in the leasts ?  24
The greater worshipers of nature we are, the greater worshipers of Deity we
may become  '"•
From the perfection of the primitive  25
Were there contingencies in the primitive ?  *"¦
God is not the cause of imperfection  26
Nevertheless aU things are from God  27
We may attribute [causation] to nature  H-
By the contemplation of nature, we are led to an acknowledgment of God . . 29
By the heavens  '*¦
By the structure of the human body  30
All parts of the body tend to their own proper ends  43
There is a tacit consent of human souls to the existence of an infinite God . . 46
Objection : Was the Divine in the primitives only, and not in the derivatives ? 48
The reasonings of some philosophers conceming God  51
The infinite is not to be reckoned as nothing, although compared with finites
it is quasi nothing  55
The connexion between the infinite and the first finite  58
The primary end is for the infinite  60
There is a nexus, and the infinite is the final cause of creation  63
Man is the ultimate efiect in the world through which the di-vine end can be
obtained  66
Objection : That the divine end is not obtained in the ultimate effect  72
God has exercised his prevision and providence at once, to ensure obtaining
the primary end  76
By giving a soul to the body  77
By the only-begotten Son, who took upon Himself the ultimate eflfect  79
How the end may be obtained in the Gentiles  80
There are many secondary ends  82

CHAPTER II.
Is the soul finite, or infinite ?  93
Is the soul amenable to laws ?  ib.
Are there any but mechanical laws in finite things ?  95
Is the finite conceivable apart from extension ?  97
Is the soul a pure simple .'  100

CONTENTS. VU
Page
Is the soul a simple finite ?  101
Is there passivity in the soul as well as activity ?  102
Is the soul bound by geometrical and mechanical laws ?  104
The comparison of the soul with machines, in what sense justifiable ?  106
Is the soul immortal ?  107
Mechanical laws admit of superlative perfection as much as any other laws . . 109
From ignorance of the state of the soul, we may easily pass to a denial of its
existence  110
The soul is immortal  112
There is no connexion between finites without natural contiguity  118
The nexus between the soul and the body has its limits or ends included in man 119
No perceptible operation can take place between the soul and body, without
some previous mutation  120
No mutation can happen without motion in the natural sphere  121
There must be substances in man recipient of motion  122
There are several elements connected with each other by contiguity  123
The elements operate on the substances of the animal frame ; and the like
exists in the elements as in animals  129
There are membranes in the human body to receive all the motions of the
elements  131
The membranes are formed geometrically, with exquisite precision, for the
reception of the motions existing in the elements  135
The laws of motion in the elements, and the similar laws in human organs . . 137
The soul is the centre of such motions  141
The seat of the soul in the body  142
The soul is the same wherever it is seated  144
How the actuality of the soul is to be considered  146
Actives cannot be finited without passives or a surface  ib.
The souls of brutes  147
Index of Subjects by the Translator  151

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY THE TRANSLATOR.

The following Work was originally published by Swedenborg in
Latin in 1734, at Dresden and Leipsic,* together, as it appears,
with the Opera Philosophica et Mineralia of which the Prmcipia
forms the first volume. It seems to have been written after the
Principia, at least if we may judge from the circumstance of
the latter being referred to several times in these Outlines.
Besides which, the Doctrine of the Soul is carried out in the
latter into many more details than in the Principia.
In the Acta Eruditorum for 1735, pp. 556 — 559, the present
Work is reviewed, but no positive opinion is expressed of its
merits, although the critic hints that it has a materialistic
tendency. The Outlines was one of the first of the author's philoso
phical works which excited attention in England, and a transla
tion of it was executed at Manchester, as early as 1795,t by
two of the scholars of the Rev. W. Cowherd, at his Classical
School ; but which, as might be expected, was by no means a
* "Emanuel. Swedenborgii Sacrse Regise Maj. Svecicse CoUegii MetaUici Asses-
soris Prodromus Philosophise Ratiocinantis de Infinito, et Causa Finali Creationis :
deque Mechanismo Operationis Animae et Corporis. Dresdse et Lipsise, sumptibus
Friderici Hekelii, Bibliopol. Regii mdccxxxiv."
f " Prodromus, or the Forerunner of a Reasoning Philosophy : concerning the
Infinite and the Final Cause of Creation : and concerning the Mechanism of the
Soul and Body's Operation. In two parts. Designed principally as an Introduction
to the Economy of the Animal Kingdom. Originally printed in Latin, at Dresden
and Leipsic, a.d. 1734. By the Hon. E. Swedenborg, S.R.M.S.C.M.A. Man
chester, 1795."

X INTKODUCTORY KEMAKKS BY THE TRANSLATOR.
successful rendering of so difficult a work. There is, however,
a brief Advertisement prefixed to the edition, which contains
some observations by the Master so just and pertinent, that we
need offer no excuse for inserting them here.
" To establish rationally," says he, " on solid gi-ounds, some satis
factory knowledge respecting God, the soul, and eternal life, was indeed,
professedly, the primary end, the ultimate scope, of all our author's
philosophical disquisitions, as well as theological researches. And,
directed towards objects in themselves so interesting, he will be found
to have selected such means, in the guidance of his laudable pursuits,
as necessarily carry him to discoveries and conclusions no less impor
tant than convincing. Facts, natural and revealed, were alone what he
either could, or did, rely upon with security. From visible effects in
nature, and in the human body, by retracing all things philosophically
to their cause, he was led, and will lead others most fully, to acknow
ledge that there is a God of infinite love and wisdom, and that man
hath an immortal soul. And from the actual, though divine and super
natural, manifestations recorded in the Sacred Scripture, he hath been
enabled more immediately to ascertain what God is, and what the soul,
as to form in particular. For do not the Scriptures positively declare,
that God hath been manifested to the patriarchs of old, to Moses and
the prophets, and finally to Christians in the person of Jesus Christ,
ever in Human Form ? And doth not John the Revelator say ex
pressly, that when he was in spirit abstracted into heaven, he could
equally as in the body, hear, see, converse, walk, and, in short, live and
act as a man ; and that he saw there, as men, ' the smils of them that
were slain for the Word of God, and for the testimony which they held?'
" Let not those, therefore, who can accompany our author with
pleasure in his philosophical excursions through the shady walks of
inferior nature, neglect to rise with him, in the way to their highest
edification and improvement, into that superior light which beams efful
gent from the Word of God. Neither let such as have already read
and received his Theological Works, look down upon his Philosophy as
to them unnecessary, or comparatively below their notice ; for without
a rational idea of the soul, as scientifically given in his Philosophical
Works, it may be doubted whether his scriptural doctrines, which
apply so immediately to the spirit of man, can be rightly apprehended
and fully understood."
The above particulars, we believe, nearly complete what
can be said at present of the literary history of the Outlines.

PRINCIPIA.

The present work may be regarded as in some measure
intermediate between the Principia and the Economy of the
Animal Kingdom, which latter did not appear until seven years
later. The reader of the Outlines will find himself continu
ally in want of some sketch of the views of the Principia, and
we shall therefore here transcribe from that work the author's
own statement of his doctrine of the simple, and of actives,
finites and elements. The following is from the Rev. Augustus
Clissold's translation, Vol. I., pp. xciii — xcix.
" I am apprehensive lest, at the very outset of our philosophy,
particularly its First Part, my readers should be deterred from proceed
ing further, when they meet with views which cannot but appear
strange and foreign to those which are generally received ; as also with
such unusual phraseology as that of a Finite, an Active, an Elementary,
&c. ; terms which are unknown in any of our philosophical treatises ;
that is, which are not applied to the principles of mechanism, geometry,
and the elementary world. For this reason it will be requisite, by way
of preface, to present a general outline of our work, and thus a key to
its contents. "Every one from the light of reason may perceive, that nature,
conforming to principles of geometry, is ever pursuing a most simple
course ; a course proper to herself, and truly mechanical. He may
likewise perceive, that all things in the world originate from what is
uncompounded ; consequently from one single fountain-head and one
primitive cause ; that this primitive cause is derived into the various
things which are caused (a truth which necessarily follows, if further
products are to be derived from those which have already been brought
into being) ; also that no other cause could possibly have had existence
than the one which had proceeded by genealogical descent, as it were,
from its first parent or simple. This cause, therefore, must be latent
in the first simple ; and into the first ens derived from it, or into the
first finite there must be derived a similar cause. Now since the world
deduces its origin and subsequent increments, by a connected and con
tiguous series, from the first or single end through intermediates to
another end ; and since there must be present a cause, and indeed an
efiicient and active cause, before anything can be produced in a series ;
it follows that there must be a passive, an active, and as a product from
both, a compound, or elementary ; if therefore there be anything com
posite, it must consist of two principles, namely, a passive and an
active ; without which nature herself would be as it were in a state of

XU INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY THE TRANSLATOR.
celibacy or solitariness, destitute of progeny, without any new efficient,
hence without effect, without series, without phenomena ; in a word,
without worlds. With this view of the subject then, I have endeavored
to evince that in the Finite, which is the first in successive derivation
from the Simple, is contained each principle, hoth passive and active,
from which, by the accession of a contingent or physical cause, arose
the Composite or Elementary ; and further, that in every derivative,
whether a Finite, Active, or Elementary, there always coexists a similar
cause, and consequently a similar faculty of producing an effect, namely,
from the one into the other; thus as it were from one power into
another, from one degree into another, and so on farther and farther ;
that in the derivatives therefore there is latent a principle similar to
that which exists in the primitives ; in composites a principle similar to
that which exists in simples ; in effects a principle similar to that which
exists in causes ; consequently also that nature in her various kingdoms,
especially the elementary, is in the cause and in the effect simulta
neously ; so that from well known principles of mechanism, under the
guidance of geometry and the faculty of reasoning analytically, we may,
from an effect visible and posterior, safely draw our conclusions not
only with regard to effects invisible and prior, but with regard to the
very entities which are active and passive ; nay to the very cause which
is latent in all.
" Let us then, in a few words, present the sum and substance of
our philosophy ; and in so doing begin from the first Simple. 1 . We
observe, that in a Simple there is an internal state tending to a spiral
motion, and consequently that there is in it a like conatus or endeavor
to produce it. 2. That in the first Finite thence resulting, there is a
spiral motion of the parts. The same obtains in the other elementary
Finites, in all which there is thus a like principle. 3. That from this
single cause there arises in every Finite a progressive motion of the
parts, an axillary motion of the whole, and, provided there be no ob
stacle, a local motion of the whole. 4. That if there be a local motion,
there arises thence an Active, similar to the agent producing it, and
differing only in degree and dimension. Hence that we admit of en
tities only of a threefold degree, namely, Finites, Actives, and those
which are compounded of the two, namely. Composites or Elementaries.
With respect to Finites we affirm, that one is generated by the other ;
and that all the Finites of the genus thus arising, have the greatest
possible similitude one to the other ; and differ only in degree and
dimensions. Hence the fifth Finite is similar to the fourth ; the fourth
to the third ; the third to the second ; the second to the first ; the first
to its own proper Simple : so that he who knows the nature of one

PRINCIPIA.

knows the nature of all. In the same manner we affirm, that Actives
have the greatest possible similitude the one to the other ; that the
fifth, fourth, third, second, and first Active are all of the same nature ;
differing only in dimension and degree, in the same way as Finites.
That Elementaries also are similar one to the other, since they are com
pounded of the Finite and Active ; the Finites occupying the superficies,
the Actives occupying the interiors; that hence the first, second, third,
fourth, and fifth Element are all similar one to the other ; so that he
who knows the nature of one knows the nature of all. We affirm,
moreover, that in every Finite there are three motions, namely, a
Progressive motion of the parts, an Axillary, and a Local motion, pro
vided there be no obstacle; nor am I aware that in these extremely
simple entities any other natural motions can be assigned, or, even if
they could, that there are any other than such as I have mentioned; or
whether granting the motions of these entities, which no rational person
would I think deny, that any other could be assigned more convenient
to nature. We observe again, that all these motions proceed from one
fountain-head, or from one and the same cause, namely, from a spiral
motion of the parts. This motion, inasmuch as it is the most highly
mechanical, is also the most highly natural; being that in which, as is
well known, the whole potency of nature and all mechanical force is
inherent; and if it be granted that it is motion which is the cause of
things, then no other motion can be admitted, in this case, than such
as is most highly mechanical and most highly geometrical ; for from its
centre to its circumferences in space, a spiral is one perpetual ens, cir
cular in all its dimensions ; and as such it cannot possess in itself any
thing but what is most highly perfect, most highly mechanical and
natural in its motion ; being both as to the site of its parts and as to
its motion most highly geometrical. In a Simple, however, in which
there can be nothing substantial to be put in motion, nor any medium
in which motion can exist, we must conceive that instead of a mechani
cal and geometrical motion, such as there is between parts and in a
medium, there is as it were a total or pure motion, that is to say, a
state and a conatus hence arising from a similar into a similar quasi
motion ; in which is latent the one only cause and primitive force that
produced all the entities subsequently existing.
" Inasmuch as in all its kingdoms the visible world is of so diver
sified an aspect, and consists and subsists in the series of parts succes
sively and simultaneously arising, it cannot possibly have its termina
tion in the same point in which it had its beginning ; thus it cannot
possibly have its termination in its own first or mediate series or line of
progression, or in its first or second part ; for were this the case, there

xiv INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY THE TRANSLATOR.
would be no series in existence, neither would there be any ends;
because there would be no distinctions into intermediates ; consequently
no element to constitute vortices; none to constitute ether or air;
nothing to constitute fire ; much less anything to constitute the innu
merable parts of the mineral, vegetable, and animal kingdoms ; in a
word, there would be no world. Hence it is, that my first aim has
been to demonstrate, that the first Finite derives its origin from the
Simple ; the second Finite from the first Finite ; the third from the
second; the fourth from the third; each being attended by a cause
similar to that which exists in the primitive Simple, and which passes,
by successive derivation, into the Finites. Hence I shew that a series
of Finites thus springs from a Simple, or from the first Finite, in suc
cession to the fifth Finite. These five Finites have a mutual relation
to each other, and differ only in degree and dimension, or in their ratio
to each other according as they are raised to successively higher powers
or degrees. Again; inasmuch as all Finites are capable of becoming
Actives, or of performing gyres from a like inhering and concomitant
force or cause, that is to say, from a spiral motion of the parts ; and
inasmuch as they can pass also into a Local motion, provided there be
space and nothing in it to present any obstacle ; it follows of course,
that there may be a fivefold series of Actives ; an Active of the first,
second, third, fourth, and fifth Finite points respectively ; and hence
that by means of the last or fifth Active, the fire of our system may
pass into our atmosphere. The same law obtains in regard to the
compounds or Elementary particles ; which I hold to consist of two
principles, namely. Actives and Finites ; the Finites occupying the
surface, the Actives occupying the interiors. And inasmuch as there
is thus a series of Finites and of Actives, there will also be a series of
Elements such as the first or most universal Element, the second or
Magnetic or vortical Element, the third or Ethereal Element, the fourth
or Aerial Element ; before the elementary kingdom belonging to the
world has yet been fully completed. And since every single particle of
each Element is elastic, encloses Actives, and possesses the faculty [wi]
of passivity and activity ; hence the first Element encloses within it the
Actives of the first Finite ; the second, the Actives both of the first
and second; the third, the first Elementary particles; the fourth, both
the first and second Elementary particles ; the two latter Elements
participating in each principle, although th*y enclose not real Actives
but Elementary particles. For the Elementary particles are not only
passive but active ; they are consequently elastic, and are moveable in
particles and volumes ; the motion and mechanism of their volume de
pending upon the motion and mechanism of their particles ; although

PRINCIPIA. XV
they are not mobile and elastic in the same degree as the enclosed first
and second Elementary particles from which they receive their elasticity.
Thus we shew that the Elements also differ in degrees and dimension,
progressing equally with the Finites, &c., in a certain order and suc
cession. "The series of these several subjects will be found in the work
itself, as follows : — On the means of attaining to a true Philosophy.
On the first simple or first natural Point. On the first Finite. On the
second Finite. On the third Finite. On the fourth Finite. On the
fifth Finite. On the pure material Finite, or water.
" With respect to the Actives, the series is as follows : — On the
Active of the Point. On the Active of the first Finite. On the Actives
of the second and third Finite. On the Actives of the fourth and fifth
Finite, or on fire.
"With respect to the Elements, the series is as follows : — On the
first or most universal Element. On the second or Magnetic Element.
On the third Element, or the Ether. On the fourth Element, or the
Air. On the fifth product similar to the Elements, or on Aqueous
Vapour ; where we finally shew, that iu every drop of water is con
tained every single thing which had hitherto existed from the first
Simple, as also the whole genus of Finites, Actives, and Elementaries ;
consequently that in a single drop of water is latent the whole Elemen
tary world both visible and invisible.
" Now since causes and things caused are similar to each other,
although they differ in degree and dimension, it follows that nature is
similar to herself, and cannot be different in the larger system or ele
mentary kingdom from what she is in the lesser ; in the macrocosm
from what she is in the microcosm ; in a volume from what she is in a
particle ; hence in the elementary particle may be seen the quality of
the volume, and in the volume the quality of the particle ; from which
we infer that the sun consists of the Actives which first originate, or
those of the first and second Finite ; particularly since it is the cause
of all the subsequent mutations ; the first motor of the things in its
series ; inasmuch as other things could not have successively existed
except from the first Actives, or the solar space consisting of them.
Consequently that the solar vortex and the vortex of the other stars
consists of the first and second, hence of the most universal. Elements.
That the sun itself, in the formation of its vortex, being surrounded with
a crust of Finites of the fourth genus, was thus the original chaos of
the earth and the planets ; and inasmuch as this crust enclosed within it
the sun, or the space consisting of the Actives of the first and second
order, while the fourth Finites occasioned a pressure from without.

xvi INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY THE TRANSLATOR.
such a chaos could resemble no other than an elementary particle ; in
which, in like manner, the Actives exercise a pressure from within,
while the Finites or Passives occupy the surface ; so that it was by a
process the most simple that nature produced a chaos, from which she
afterwards brought forth the earths ; being thus similar to herself in
her greatest as well as her smallest productions. That consequently
the earth, when just produced, and in proximity with the sun, con
sisted of the fourth Finites, and possessed in the larger system, like
the Finite in the smaller, a motion of its parts, an axillary motion,
and also a local motion ; so that in itself it was the representation of a
large Finite ; and as to its local and annual motion, the representation
of a large Active ; that hence both in the earth and in the other planets
we may see what is the quality of the Finite and what the quahty of
the Active in its minute boundaries ; and also in the chaos what is the
quality of the elementary particle."
This, we hope, will put the reader in possession of the pre
liminaries requisite for commencing the study of the present
Work ; and we now proceed to make one or two remarks which
are rendered necessary by the difference between the modern
tendencies of philosophy and those which were apparent when
Swedenborg wrote. At the same time it is pretty evident, that
Swedenborg received comparatively little impetus from his con-
temporEiries, but that the greater part of what he has written,
wears the impress of his own active mind. He, therefore,
needs not to be accommodated to this age any more than to
that which has passed away ; but it is the modern reader for
whom, on his own behalf, we feel it expedieiit to make the fol
lowing observations.
When Swedenborg wrote his philosophical works, modern
scepticism had not attained that predominance which it has
since exercised in European philosophy; nor had Transcend
entalism, under the pretext of answering scepticism, admitted
its conclusions, changing the form of their enunciation from
the sceptical to the dogmatical. This has since occurred on the
continent of Europe, and the breath of the movement has not
been unfelt even in England. Here, however, the national
temperament forbids that Transcendentalism should be known
and received as a system ; although notwithstanding some im
portant conclusions of the system have deeply infected the me-

TRANSCENDENTALISM.

taphysical faith of the country. This it is that makes it
incumbent upon us briefly to notice that state of mind which
the majority of learned readers will bring to bear upon the
Work now before us ; and to declare in limine, that so far as
Transcendentalism in any of the forms under which we know
it, is the medium through which these Outlines, or the other
philosophical works of the author, are viewed, so far they will
be misunderstood; so far they will be seen not directly, but
through a medium ; and that medium composed of falsities in
words and notions, which must alter and distort whatever they
surround. Now what is Transcendentalism ? It had been argued by
Bishop Berkeley in his ingenious Dialogues, that what we term
the world is after all but our own sensations, and that given the
totality of these sensations, we have no need of an outward
universe. His logic was accepted as irresistible by "thinkers" in
all countries, and at all events no counter-statement having the
neatness, portability and plausible character of the Bishop's
scheme, was made at the time, or has been made up to this
hour. If the principle of the Dialogues were true, the Irish
metaphysician had demolished the validity of the external uni
verse ; and in so doing had achieved a triumph for scepticism
which implied clearly enough those other victories that it was
afterwards to gain in the hands of David Hume and his con
tinental admirers and successors.
The Scotch metaphysician took the matter up where the
Bishop left it, and, as it is supposed by learned philosophers,
proved that the law of cause and efl'ect was without foundation
in the nature of things, and was but a prejudice, useful enough
in common life, but not valid in philosophical argument. It
was therefore the glory of this thinker, that he had repealed or
rather disproved all real cohesion in man and nature, and made
of the universe an incoherent nuUiverse, a whirl of fleeting
sequences, and a delirious " chase of Pan."
At this stage, his own countrymen, Reid and others, very
properly rejected his whole theory, centre, antecedents, conse
quents, and all, as a useless and fruitless thing, one of the
entities over the number requisite for mankind ; and they betook
b

xviii INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY THB TRANSLATOR.
themselves to common sense, as an asylum from monstrous ratio
cinations, and a heavy check to absurd principles and conclu
sions. Not so the continental philosophers. On the contrary,
Germany produced a mind, in the person of Immanuel Kant,
that thought it worth while to accept this progeny of scepticism,
thus self-condemned by its fruits, and to give it grave considera
tion, a positive form, and a life-long education and develop
ment. It grew up into transcendentalism, a system worthy of
its seed, and directly perpetuating the powers and qualities of
its parent scepticism.
The point of Transcendentalism was this, that whereas the
arguments against the possibUity of our seeing an external world,
are unanswerable, let our world be freely conceded to consist of
our own sensations, valid for us, though not for itself; time
and space being " forms of sense," true of man, though not of
objects. Furthermore as the law of cause and effect, and several
other fundamental notions, are found to have no abiding place
in the surfaces of sensation. Transcendentalism says here again,
These laws are the forms of thought, true for the understand
ing, though not for objects, and therefore you may fairly declare
that they are valid within the circle of that faculty, but not to
be predicated or defended beyond it. For instance, we have a
right to say that the universe has a cause in God, if we thereby
mean that such is the way in which our minds are obliged to
think ; but if we further mean that our proposition is an out
ward or objective fact, independent of our own minds, we be
come guilty of an inconsequence. It is true that we have the
idea of God, but how do we prove that there is a real object
existing out of us, corresponding to that idea ; that there is a
God as an outward or inward object of reason ? May not God
be only the pruritus of our own uneasy faculties ?
In a word the upshot of Transcendentalism was, to regard
all sensation, knowledge and thought as subjective, and to
make the individual believe all the manifestations of God, nature
or humanity which are made to his mind, as so many presenta
tions of his own being. In this way each man becomes shut in
the case of an opake and impenetrable selfhood, which not only
absorbs and destroys all outward truth, but makes it impossible

TRANSCENDENTALISM. XIX
to have any confidence in the existence of our brother man.
To accept these consequences is the manner in which Tran
scendentalism has answered scepticism !
It will easily be seen that on the foregoing principles Tran
scendentalism utterly ignores all those reasonings which are
based upon the truth of outward nature, and that it shews a
long list of subjects of which the investigation is declared " im
possible." Never in fact did any one man proclaim so many
things " impossible" as Immanuel Kant : to limit the human
faculties was his glory ; to accumulate impossibilities was his
science. Theology was impossible, and ontology especially was
impossible ; and indeed scarcely anything possible was left,
saving nonentity and terminology.
Thus metaphysics, after dreaming a while in Berkeleyism,
became rambling and delirious in Hume, and sank into con
firmed idiocy or Cretinism in Kant, who, to the false move
ments and functions of past scepticism, gave a corresponding-
false organization or body, and endowed the monster with a
power of propagating its kind, and filling the world with a
lineage of abominable inventions.
We have spoken particularly of the Kantian Transcendent
alism, and not of the manifold systems of Kant's successors,
because it is the former which has had the greatest influence in
England, into which it was slowly introduced by Coleridge and
others, long after it ceased to animate any particular school in
Germany. And we assert that the identical principles of Ideal
ism, Scepticism and Transcendentalism, have so corrupted
thought even in England, that scarcely any subject or problem
can appeal to learned and thinking men with its direct natural
force. Thus as the world without is referred to the senses of man,
and denied to exist except so far as it is perceived, so the inner
world of which the mind is a part, is similarly referred to other
faculties, and made to consist entirely of their perceptions.
The consequence is, that both spiritual and natural experience
are shaken to the base, and all scientific vision of the deeper
parts of nature is set down as a dream, in which the fig
ments of the mind are mistaken for the unattainable truth of
" things in themselves." In this case sensualism with locust
52

xx INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY THE TRANSLATOR.
wings advances over the earth, till there is not a green patch
left to sustain animal life, or to cheer the traveller's eye, or
soften his path. The legitimate end therefore of all this high
flying metaphysics, is no other than that old Epicureanism,
"Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.'^
To one who is deeply committed to this unhappy meta-
physic, it is in vain to cite experience of any degree. To what
ever sphere it professes to belong, it is the mere child of the
mental faculties. If God manifests Himself, He is but an idea
of the pure reason ; if the spiritual world is represented, it is
but the conceptions of the understanding ; if nature lies out
spread before the eye, both it, and the eye itself, are but sensa
tions. The matter is not at all mended by the Kantian admission
of that most immoral and absurd of " all possible worlds," viz.,
the world of " things in themselves ;" for the cognizance of
these things, according to Kant, their inventor, is impossible.
Now it may easily be seen what a bearing these principles
must have, in indisposing the human mind to an attentive con
sideration of Swedenborg's writings, in which the questions of
Idealism, Scepticism and Transcendentalism are unasked and
unanswered, and the objects of reason are treated as outwardly
true, and the outward spiritual world itself, independent of our
perceptions like the natural world, becomes a direct object of
human knowledge.
Among the least sincere parts of metaphysics, we may justly
reckon its continual profession of the dangers of materialism.
Not that materialism is other than a gross error and evil, but
much has been wrongly classed as materialism which properly
comes under the designation of reality. Many writers exhibit
great sensibility on the score of materialism ; and this, it may
be feared sometimes, not with a view to curbing ill-directed sen
suality, but in order to banish external and commanding truth
from the mind. They allege the grossness of the mind to the
score of the material body, much as improvident men blame
the stars, and as sinners of all classes make circumstances the
pack-horse of their sins. The truth, however, is, that moral
wrong is wrong precisely because it is not material ; the actions
of the body are qualified by good and evil only in proportion as
they are actions of the spirit. Automatic or purely organic

MECHANISM NOT MATERIALISM. • XXI
action, or the lower forms of mechanical action, cannot exhibit
sensuality, or in any way call down blame or praise; although
according to the above metaphysicians, the deadest of things,
for example, a stone, ought also to be the most vicious. But it
is plain that the belief in matter, and in the necessary embodi
ment of the human spirit, has no bearing whatever upon the
question of materialism considered in its moral relations. The
only subject worth a moment^s consideration is, whether the
persistent attribution of form, and body, and ultimately of
mechanical and geometrical laws, to the human soul and spirit,
does amount to materialism, or not. And here we at once
answer that it does not. It is impossible to conceive matter
without form, — impossible even for the most learned Aristotelian.
Again, it is impossible to conceive form without substance, —
impossible even to the Berkeleian and the Kantist. But mate
rialism, as we understand it in the opprobious sense, does not
imply a belief in the formal and substantial existence of the
mind, (e.g. as a brain,) but rather a predication of low and un
worthy forms of the human essence. Let us illustrate this by
an example. If I ask you of the distinctive essence of West
minster Abbey, and you answer me that the stone of which it
is built is that essence, I am in this case bound to accuse you
pro tanto of materialism. For it is evidently the form of the
Abbey, the architect's plan, which gives the building its indi
viduality. The same stone might be ranged difl^erently on other
plans ; but the same plan would continue the same in whatever
latitude it was built, or with whatever materials. The very
stone, it is true, has a form, and could you but see it in its in
timate constitution, a stupendous form, but here its form is not
made use of, excepting in so far as it lies at the root of the
hardness, durability, &c., or the ^eweraZ properties, of the stone:
consequently it is the stone considered as mere matter, not as
form, which enters into the construction of the Abbey. In
every orderly gradation in which aught worthy to exist is
founded and upraised, the subsidiary forms count but as matter
to those above them, and these again, in their turn, as matter
to others higher still ; or to consider the descending scale, the
highest forms enter into those beneath them, and group them
in their own manner ; and the edifice or organ thus produced,

xxii INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY THE TRANSLATOR.
enters into a lower series, and arranges its parts or matters into
new groups ; which thus become fresh forms capable of exerting
a corresponding operation upon other materials again ; and so
forth. Thus all things are indift'erently matter, or form, accord
ing as they are circumstanced or viewed. And the only mate
rialism for the understanding consists in attributing the opera
tions of high forms to low and inadequate ones, i.e. to matter
as a relative being. Thus when the operations of the mind are
said to depend upon the nervous pulp, we are at once struck
with the materiahstic animus of the expression. And why ? —
simply because the construction of a pulp is felt to be lower
than the form of the brain, which is the indubitable form and
embodiment of the human faculties; and because the senses,
to which the pulp is presented, are allowed to climb into that
theoretical faculty by which the higher forms are discovered,
aud to insinuate that the pulpy appearance exhausts the reality,
and that there is no wondrous order and mechanism penetrating
the pulp, by which the brain is made receptive of its functions.
In a word, it is not the bare annexation of form, quality, pro
perties, space and time, real or analogical, or matter either, to
any subject, that can degrade it, but the misplacing of the
various degrees of which these predicates consist, so that vege
table efiects are assigned to the mineral, or animal effects to the
vegetable, or human effects to animal organization, or lastly,
divinity to nature.
Thus much we feel it necessary to say to the reader of the
Outlines, in rebuke of that exceedingly artful charge of ma
terialism which the metaphysicians are so prone to make against
all real views of the soul ; in which views, as we said before, we
fear it is the commanding reality that is repugnant, and not the
materiahsm. For if the human mind is conversant with the
gross bodies, forces, properties and things of sensation, as it
undoubtedly is ; and if there is nothing in the higher faculties
corresponding in palpable reahty to sensation; if the under
standing and the reason have no real but only a formal validity
in their ideas and conceptions ; then how fearful the weight and
preponderance of the five senses ! They have all things on their
side, with no counterbalance whatever. If, however, as we
maintain, all the intellectual faculties are likewise senses, and if

NON-SENSE. XXm
their objects are real, outward, forcible and impressive, like
those of the visible world, then there is some hope of an equili
brium between the inner and the outer man. In moral battles,
reason may have sense with it as well as against it, and in hours
of despondency, faith may find comfort in the endowment of
sight. En passant we may note it as curious, how readily the down
right nonsense of the theologians, finds its counterpart in the
cautious non-sense attributed to reason and understanding by
the metaphysicians. The one appears to be the organ of which
the other is the object : the one generates contradictions ; the
other adopts the negation which is the result. 1 — 1= Theolo
gical Mystery; 0 = Philosophical Faculty. We observe that it
is the same amount differently expressed.
The failures of philosophy in the above respect, have in truth
a simple root, and one which it is not difficult to discover by the
light furnished in the writings of Swedenborg. Neglect of
facts, internal and external, as the basis of certain very ordi
nary inductions, — this neglect, which Bacon came to signalize
in his own day, is the source and cause of the shortcomings of
metaphysicians ever since. I. As a principal error, man has
not been steadily regarded as a finite being ; and consequently
the investigation of forms, which is a path of fruitfulness, has
been superseded by a barren quest after unformed matter, and
disembodied life; both of which are necessarily inappreciable,
and finitely speaking indeed, are non-entities. 2. God has been
regarded otherwise than as given in revelation and experience,
and consequently philosophical theology has had no basis and
has made no progress. 3. Nature has been limited to the phe
nomena presented to the senses, because its internal parts, like
the human powers, have been considered divine and infinite, and
consequently occult ; in other words, nature has been emptied
of series and degrees, and principles have consequently been
deprived of their legitimate unbroken connexion by similar
means with effects and ends. These are some of the reasons
for which philosophy has remained a blank, with much preten
sion on its side, and small human usefulness.
This condition of metaphysics has undoubtedly arisen from
great theological perversions, which in their turn are due to

xxiv INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY THE TRANSLATOR.
moral causes ; since " God appears to every man according to
the state of each ;" for philosophy ever has been, and ever will
be, the servant of the reigning theology, to do its bidding, either
tacit or confessed. Yet we may, without deeply investigating
the moral estate of the church, observe one fact with respect to
the intellectual constitution of philosophy, which will go far to
account for its inertia and incapability ; we mean the lymphatic
temperament it manifests; the lazy attitude in which it per
forms its tasks ; the easy- chair study of its own consciousness as
the grand book and volume of instruction. The poor Hindoo,
gazing into his navel for a resolution of difficulties and a com
prehension of mysterious things, is worthily engaged in com
parison with those who are occupied year after year in " probing
their consciousness." The only /ac^ of which they are thoroughly
conscious in their introspections, and which might be usefully
recorded and remembered, viz., their flat ignorance of them
selves, is, alas ! not written among their discoveries. But what
profit is there in studying a consciousness which does not involve
among its conscious elements the knowledge which they seek.
Or if it does involve this information, then the information is
already obtained, and there is no need to seek it. We must be
sorely perplexed indeed when we do not know our own minds.
But men have yet to learn that the consciousness and the self
may be totally different things ; that Tvmdi, aeavrov is a precept
which enjoins anything but egotism.
The notion of eliminating a philosophy from the analysis of
consciousness, is so profoundly, so intimately absurd, that it is
extremely difficult to discuss it without falhng into truisms which
it seems ridiculous to enunciate. The office of man is far other
than at any point of his life to bring himself to a stand-stUl,
that he may examine his own wheels and mechanism. The fact
of motion, of action, of will, is the grand human potency, and
this fact is necessarily abrogated to the last degree, and as far
as may be, unnoticed, during the pretended examination of
consciousness. The business of life, and especially of philoso
phy, is to alter and enlarge and improve the human knowledge
or consciousness ; by no means to fix its limits at any given or
any possible stage. A philosophy which seeks to rivet a parti
cular consciousness as a boundary upon the human mind, is the

INTELLECTUAL CATARACT. XXV
organon of a preposterous conceit, and would consistently nip
childhood in the bud, prevent all improvement, and deny
the possibility of education. Yet such a philosophy is the
inevitable growth of that false view, that man is not finite but
infinite, that he is a life, and not a recipient of life.
Had the latter point been thoroughly acknowledged, we
should then have had before us a creation and a subject in
which everything was knowable ; a universe of forms generating
qualities, and adapted to uses, which was the object of science
and organic philosophy in aU its departments, from Theology to
Cosmogony. On the other hand, the denial of form to the
mind and soul, and the consequent tacit predication of infinity
of both, has made knowledge cease with the senses, and the
surfaces thereof, and has, in point of power and intelligence,
finited man's reason in many respects to a degree much below
the instincts of animals. In theology the same cause has de
graded the Christian below savage tribes, and made the conso
lations of that Gospel which brought life and immortahty to
light, incomparably inferior in reality and distinctness to the
poor Indian^s belief in the Great Spirit and the happy hunting
fields. Thus much it has seemed necessary to say, in order to vin
dicate the present volume from coming under the judgment of
the philosophies of the day; and in order to warn its readers
to put aside metaphysical notions and prejudices, such as the
necessary infinity of spirit, the identification of form and me
chanism with matter, the existence of "things in themselves,"
the assertion that sensations are unlike objects, and the possible
subjectivity of any idea in an absolute sense. For these are but
forms of that dense " intellectual cataract " which philosophy
has drawn over the intellect, and which, binding down mankind
to a groping sensualism, prevents all direct contact between man
and his field of alteration and improvement, viz., the outward
and inward creations of God, in which he is a part among parts,
a body among bodies, a spiritual form among spiritual forms.
We had intended to give a brief account of the subject and
scope of the Outlines, but this may be readily gathered from
the Index of Subjects appended to the volume. In the mean
time we beg to remind the readei", that the work was published

XXVI INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY THE TRANSLATOR.
fourteen years before the first of the Author's theological trea
tises, and that during the interval his mind was undergoing
continual and rapid progress ; so that it is by the latter treatises
alone that he is to be finally judged, although his philosophical
works are indeed a considerable help to a correct appreciation
of his labors as a whole. Nevertheless his theological works are
so far superior to his early productions, that we are bound to
put in a distinct caveat against a last opinion being formed from
any others.
The reader will see at the first glance that the work
before us has a mechanical tendency, and aims at a reality of
knowledge on the deepest subjects, such as the moderns them
selves, often accused as they are of a mechanical spirit, would
scarcely venture to hope for even in the sciences of chemistry
and physics. Yet on account of this very tendency, we augur
that it has a function in the busy world, and will be ac
ceptable to its true citizens. It tells us not to be ashamed
that we " live in a mechanical age." The laws of mechanics —
do not they, too, come from the infinite? May there not be
superlative perfection in them, as well as in any other laws?*
So long as the laws of the soul are unknown, how shall we be
certain that the deeper analogies of mechanics are not those
very laws ? Let us then look for a moment at the privilege we
enjoy, in that we are among the first to " live in a mechanical
age." Remark at the outset, that the question at present is not
between the age of gold, and the age of mechanics. Were we
stiU living, an undiseased generation, fresh from our Maker's
hands, in his glorious primeval universe ; at home in pure and
most perfect love in the celestial warmth of creation; reading
the Word only in the works ; suckled by the maternal earth, or
fed with nectared fruit, in quick anticipation, by the obsequious
trees; brotherhood and sisterhood, wedded love, and family
nearness, the unfailing promise of a heavenly society; space
not putting asunder those whom God had united; — were we
still enduring in this original estate, there can be no question
how superfluous would be the officious ministrations of art;
* Outlines, p. 109.

MECHANICAL AGES. XXVll
and with what well-founded composure we should repugn for
ourselves the influences or offers of a mechanical age. But this
flrst estate has gone, and it is the laziness of philosophy to
regret it. That sensuality which was once the fall, has be
come the floor of a new heaven, and henceforth the natural
man is infinite in the infinite. The conditions are inverted.
Natural truth has become the basis of all truth ; the necessary
foundation of society ; and mechanical truth is the ultima ratio
of natural truth. The question, then, lies between mechanics,
and rude, unskilled adaptations : between the casual and igno
rant gratification of animal wants, and the steady maintenance
and healthy expansion of the body of the soul : between occult
qualities in the sciences, abstractions in philosophy, and por
tentous mysteries in theology, on the one hand ; and definite
objects of all degrees on the other : between the affections re
duced to blind instincts, and separated by the chasms of space
and time ; and the same affections intellectualized, and com
bined naturally, and hereafter morally, into an indissoluble
society, which the laws of creation, equally with the influences
of the spiritual world, tend to perpetuate for ever. In a word,
the dispute is between mechanics as an exponent of the inward
sphere, and an indication of the future time ; and metaphysics,
hanging in middle air over the fruitful earth, bewailing a sup
posititious past, dreaming of an unlikely future, and in the
meantime leaving the present to the conduct of the abused
spirit of mechanics. The issue is as certain as the triumph of
capacity over incapacity, or as the preponderance of something
over nothing.
In justiflcation of a mechanical element in philosophy, we
might fairly appeal to the important part which the mechanic
sciences are performing in the advancement of the race; we
might shew that they tend to the production of competence, to
the spread of knowledge, to the mitigation of suffering, to the
restraint of crime, and to the communion of mankind, with all
that is imphed in these prodigious qualifications. But fortu
nately it would be useless to dwell on a point which is never
disputed. Dismissing then the innumerable services which the
mechanical spirit performs in the groundwork of human so
ciety, let us retrace our steps to its first manifestation in the

xxviii INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY THE TRANSLATOR.
writings of Swedenborg, and hint at one or two benefits which a
true application of it promises to philosophy and theology.
Observe, however, that by mechanics we understand the
whole doctrine of forms, as either analogically or really mechan
ical; and when we say, "analogically," we imply, that theworld
of the soul itself is such, that it is connected with nature with
out the intervention of any necessarily occult or mysterious
laws; in a word, that all spirit and all nature is but One
Creation with its parts rationally contiguous. But we do not
limit mechanics, which, as Swedenborg says, " is conceived and
born of the elemental kingdom," and indeed of the spiritual
world, to material machinery, but comprize under it at present,
for the behoof of the argument, all the possible states of ani
mate machines, and of living finite beings.
The first grand fruit of the mechanical spirit, is the infusion
of industry into the soul of philosophy. For what is now re
quired of philosophy ? Simply this, that it shall be the Science
of sciences. The mechanical spirit insists that philosophical
teachings shall be equally definite and real with the facts of the
senses, and the texture of positive knowledge. No umbilical
contemplations, no non-sense, have the slightest power with the
student who has acquired positive knowledge in other depart
ments. If philosophy has " no assets," it must work and ac
quire. It must till the ground of creation, to produce the
noblest crop of all, which nature wiU acknowledge and claim as
her own production. Its results must not be contrivances, or
inventions, or wooden systems, but juicy fruits, which have
absorbed the choicest dew of the sciences, and embodied it in
forms of beauty, brilliantly real beyond competition, and big
with utility. And whenever philosophy mutters " impossible,"
it must submit to be treated as a forward menial, usurping the
dress and name and functions of another, and its education
must recommence at the bench and in the workshop of the
sciences. In short, philosophy must teach in learning; and
discern the nature of man from his extended works, from the
entire body as the physiognomy of the soul, from the great
frame of nature as the means to an end, and the analogue of
humanity, from revelation as a divine fact and enlargement of
nature; from the highest powers which the human mind has

MECHANICAL AGES.

yet attained, considered as means to a further elevation. It
will then have something tangible to present, which "a me
chanical age" can handle, and the intellectual months will offer
their yield of precious grains, each in his season. In this case
the sciences themselves, uninterruptedly supplied from the foun
tains of doctrine, will be but philosophy in its lower derivations,
and will carry its tone and its informing spirit to the humblest
door, down to the very limits of the senses. Thenceforth phi
losophy can never fall ; for to attempt to shake it, would call
forth not gowned disputants, but human nature in its defence.
For what, after aU, is true philosophy, but the rational mean to
an unbounded charity, the quick-eyed intelligence of brotherly
love; a thing appreciable in one form or another by all the
dwellers upon earth.
Aud if a philosophy is naturally indestructible that rests
upon the basis of the sciences, — if a philosophy comprising real
metaphysics, metamechanics, metacosmics, metachymics, meta-
zoics, and the other powers of knowledge, be " absolutely safe
from harm by aught that can befall in this sublunary region,"
who can doubt that theology also may be similarly exempt,
when it, too, acquires a natural foundation, and is equally posi
tive, and directly connected, with the truths of a mechanical
age. Once for all God has come into nature ; His truth is now
entering into the natural sciences. To pass over the other fruits
of this great Advent, and to instance perhaps one of the least,
wiU not the corroboration of theology by the various spheres of
nature and art, tend to remove controversy from the ground of
principles which ought never to be questioned, to the outer
courts of truth ; and while perpetuating the intellectual labors
of the world as a means of heavenly prolification, preserve un
broken the joyful sabbath of the inner man? And as that
machinery which is inferior to the hand, has yet released the
hand from many an unworthy toil, and will in the end enfran
chise man from brute occupations, and leave his body free for
its own peculiar works ; so in like manner will the sciences, as
the dead machine of theology, address themselves to the confu
tation of scepticism, to the settlement of disputation, and to
the management of those insurrections of the mind, which
though comparatively harmless in physics, are pests and heresies

XXX INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY THE TRANSLATOR.
in a church ; and thus will leave Revelatioii at leisure, for its
own high task, of the moral regeneration of mankind. We look
upon it, therefore, that in the coming time, the religiously sci
entific mind will be the true Church Mihtant upon earth.
But be this as it may, one thing is certain, that the last of
the non-mechanical ages has passed for ever. It remains then
to make the best of mechanical things and mechanical views, or
to connect them with spirituality, which is impossible without a
certain ratio, or common organ partaking of both. Such an
organ do we happily find in these wonderful writings of Sweden
borg. They exist to give ends to science, the precision and
flexibility of nature itself to philosophy, and to theology a con
joint natural and divine Realization. In place of the garden of
Paradise, they formally point our vision to the City of the New
Jerusalem, in the midst of the street of which, as in a second
paradise, is there the tree of life. Different though the garden
from the city, yet the one is reconcileable with the other ; nay,
the crown of the one, or the tree of life, is to exist within the
other. But perhaps we have dwelt at too great length on the seem
ingly mechanical tendency of a portion of Swedenborg's philo
sophy. We have, however, taken this course, from the expe
rience that mechanical views have been alleged against him as a
special disqualification. To remove which objection we have
endeavoured to shew, that mechanics are the last exhibition of
spiritual forces, and that so far as they correspond to those
forces, and work for spiritual ends, they too, like the human
form, are spiritual forms, and not material. It is true that we
might have shewn, on the other hand, that mechanics is too
gross a term to be adequate to the state of inner forms as opened
by Swedenborg, but we preferred to meet the accusation on the
very ground of the accusers. And we now, therefore, tell them,
with great plainness, that in an eminent sense we admit their
charge, but we further declare that they will find that Sweden
borg, not of his own right alone, but by nature and Providence,
furnishes also the just spiritual complement of the Mechanical
Ages.

CHAPTER I.

THE

INFINITE,

THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION.

To Eric Benzelius, Counsellor to his sacred Majesty the
Kinff of Sioeden, Doctor of Theology and Bishop of
East Gothland: from his loving Kinsman.
When in one and the same individual we venerate merit
and acknowledge the source of personal kindness, especially
if other and extrinsic ties be superadded, in such case,
through the harmony of nature and circumstance subsisting
between us, we embrace him with perfect love. In you.
Right Reverend Bishop and beloved Kinsman, I vene
rate a wisdom equal to your exalted rank, and worthy of
your sire ; and the learned world with one accord con
fesses the same. In you I acknowledge the source of per
sonal benefit, inasmuch as it was by your advice and
wishes, that my mind, (then ripening and eager for study,
though hesitating and ignorant nevertheless, as at that
early age it is wont to be, to what pursuits to turn,) was
directed to the present and similar subjects, which were
auguries of a prosperous career in literature. Moreover
there subsists between us the bond of relationship. From
this threefold ground, that is to say, from veneration

2 DEDICATION.
for your merits, from acknowledgment of your kindness,
¦and from family ties, springs sincere love, which I trust
you will permit me here to put on record. And as it was
at your instigation that I applied myself to these studies,
so I hope you will in a measure acknowledge this off
spring of my powers, poor though it be, as in some part
your own; and therefore allow that of right it should
be dedicated to no one but yourself: and I claim for it
your favorable consideration, if not on its own account,
yet because of the cause it pleads ; if not for its merits,
yet for the love you bear its author. That your hfe may
be as long and happy as those desire who are your rela
tions by love, — this, and more than this, as I love you
more, is the heartfelt wish of,
Right Reverend Bishop,
Your most obedient Servant and dutiful Kinsman,
Emanuel Swedenborg.

PREFACE.

You here see philosophy reasoning upon the infinite and the
soul, yet using the most familiar words and a humble style,
and endeavoring to divest herself of the aid of metaphysical
terminology; and this, lest any obscurities or sublimities of
expression should cause the mind to dwell upon words, and
turn it aside from things and the subject. When any high
theme is treated of, a vigilant care should be exercised to avoid
the minutest expression that can make the reader pause. We
have, therefore, been anxious to present our philosophy under
the simplest aspect, and in a guise no way different from the
familiar speech of the world.
Philosophy, if it be truly rational, can never be contrary to
revelation : that is to say, if the rational principle partake of
the soul more than of the body : or the reason arise from no
gross corporeal instinct, whose end it tends to realize, forming
the soul by use and exercise for perpetual obedience and consent
thereto. Reason or understanding is a faculty partaking both
of the soul and the body, whose end is, to enable the soul to be
instructed through the body and its organs, that afterwards it
may dispose all things in such an order and connexion, and
call them forth with such distinctness, that a rational principle
may be the result. The end of reason can be no other, than
B 2

4 PREFACE.
that man may perceive what things are revealed, and what
are created : thus the rational cannot be contrary to the Di
vine ; since the end why reason is given us, is, that we may be
empowered to perceive that there is a God, and to know that
he is to be worshipped. If reason be the mean, endowed with
the faculty and power of perceiving, and if the actual percep
tion be the end, then the mean, in so far as it is correctly
rational, cannot be repugnant to the end. The very mysteries
that are above reason, cannot be contrary to reason, although
reason is unable to explain their grounds. But of these subjects
we speak in the following Work.

CHAPTER I.

THE INFINITE, AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION.
§1-
In order that we may be favored and happy in our endeavors,
they must begin from the Infinite or God, without whom no
undertakings can attain a prosperous issue. He it is that
bestows on all things their principles; from whom all things
finite took their rise : from whom we have our souls, and by
whom we live ; by whom we are at once mortals and immortals ;
to whom, in fine, we owe everything. And as the soul was
created by Him, and added to the body, and reason, to both,
in order that the soul might be His : so our thoughts, whether
we revolve them within, or utter them in words, or commit
them to writing, must always be so directed, as to have their
beginning and end from Him : whereby the Deity may be pre
sent with gracious favour, as the First and the Last, in either
end, as well as in the means.
Rational philoso. Human philosophy and wisdom are for the
pJiy—what. most part anxious to be taken into company
with theology. They glory in a manner in perceiving and scru
tinizing divine and transcendent subjects. Often too they accom
pany theology to her very oracles and mysteries, and refuse to
credit or embrace their responses, until after they have con
sulted the tribunal of reason, and endeavored to attain to some
grounds of belief. It is the distinctive mark and character of
the philosophical temper not to bestow unhesitating assent on
matters of dubious, unrecognized, and obscure pretensions.

6 THE INFINITE,
unless concurrently it be persuaded by a statement of causes,
and by its own pecuhar mode of philosophizing, and its own
analysis; and unless its illustrious companion, theology, van
quish it in fair, even argument. This, I say, is the mark of the
philosophical temper, and a disposition of this kind will not be
withheld from sacred subjects by the dictum that they are
revealed. It holds that it is living in a state of nature and in
the utmost freedom, and is bound to acknowledge no superior
but him that can command its reason, who alone has the force
to tie its hands. I am now speaking of things as they are, not
as they ought to be ; de factis, not de jure. And although
there be Uttle that the mind can perceive in the natural sphere,
and infinitely little in the Divine, still our philosopher thinks
that he can and ought to perceive ; and whenever he does not
perceive, he either declares the matter to be inexphcable, or
denies it altogether, or wraps it up in the darkest words, to pre
vent all possibility of convicting him of ignorance. So ambi
tious is the mind, that it endeavors to philosophize to the
utterly unknown, where it fixes the boundary, not of its own
knowledge merely, but of the knowledge of the whole philo
sophical world besides.
. ¦ -K ¦* ¦ *}, ^ the mind, in the course of philosophizing,
difficulty of phiio- peers into and courses over finite nature, its
"* ^' parts and its whole, it cannot but at last arrive
at the utterly unknown and inexplicable, i.e. at the infinite, and
the essence of the infinite ; and as the infinite is identical with
the non-finite, the mind there stops, — there finds an insur
mountable and impenetrable difficulty, and remains involved in
its Gordian knot. And when by a thousand curious efforts the
philosopher labors to know what the Infinite may be, what the
infinite God is hke, and what can be the nature of an essence
that requires to be conceived as without end or boundary : what
that something is of the qualities of which philosophy is doomed
to perpetual ignorance > he then considers and enquires whether
such infinite be identical with the Divine ; whether there be
aught in nature that can be said to be infinite ; whether the in
finite is beyond nature, or the contrary ; and whether its quali
ties are investigable by means of nature, or not. For where
the human mind is not hindered by circumstances, or oppressed

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 7
with cares, it ever loves to rise and mount ; and the steeper the
difficulty, the more heartily the mind engages with it ; for it
burns to possess denied knowledge, and to tread forbidden
ground ; longs also to know secret things, and glories in grap
pling with difficulty: and the longer it sticks in the knotty
point, provided there is hope that aught approaching to perfec
tion of knowledge be attainable, the more earnest and burning
do its efforts become. The pleasure of the pursuit hves and
feeds upon itself, and dallies with the laboring soul, winning
it over to its side; and this continues until the mind has
found what it sought, or else in sheer weariness is forced to
leave it as hopelessly inexplicable ; although even in this case
it is not without reluctance that the philosopher can consent to
forego his emprize.
Speaking gene- The more deeply human wisdom commits
'^t^ZZ::: ^tself to the investigation of the divine or infi-
finite and the finite, nite essence, the more deeply is it involved in
a labyrinth. For example, let the infinite be the difficulty
that the philosopher is impatient to solve. As soon as he arrives
at the point where he begins to enquire into the qualities of the
infinite, he at once whets his mind, consults all the oracles of
reason, and collects a thousand arguments from whatever parti
culars are fixed scientifically in his memory. These arguments,
however, be it observed, are taken in the first instance from the
finite sphere ; for in consulting the oracle of reason, they can
come from no other source. Besides, the reasoning mind knows
none other than the finite, consequently can produce none
other : for it is informed and developed by finite things, and
through finite senses ; and seeks the unknown by the analysis
of the known : and moreover, being finite itself, none but finite
things can be known to it. In the first place therefore the phi
losopher institutes a comparison of a general kind between the
finite and the infinite ; or between a living, intelligent and
active finite, and a living, intelligent and active infinite. But
rational philosophy at last rejoins, that no comparison or rela
tion can subsist between the finite and the infinite : that if the
philosopher must enquire, by relation and proportion, into the
essence of the infinite from the essence of the finite, the infi
nite wiU necessarily appear null in relation to the finite ; or else

8 the infinite,
the finite, null in relation to the infinite. For the infinitely
small becomes proportionately as nothing in relation to the
greatest or least finite, if we may so express ourselves. On
the other hand, the greatest or least finite becomes nothing
relatively to the infinitely great. Whence if we postulate
either the infinite or the finite, the other perishes in the com
parison. Specifically, with The human mind, however, does not rest
''air^IccllTrTis satisfied with even the above answer, but in the
no relation between course of its enquiries into things, descends to
the inflnite and the , .. „, ,i i t i- ii
¦finite. one detail after another, and distinctly proposes
to solve the difficulty, by scrutinizing in the first place every
hole and corner of the subject. As yet indeed it does not
thoroughly doubt, neither deny or reject, nor yet affirm, but
cherishes the hope of still solving the question, so long as any
thing whatever remains untried. It therefore now goes into
details for the enquiry, to enable it the better to see, whether
what at first appears impenetrable and inexplicable, may not
somewhere, or somehow, be explained. And for this purpose it
directs its attention to magnitude, space, extension, form, or to
quantity and quahty, or other similar geometrical conditions.
And as it knows that there is an infinite in the least sphere, and
an infinite in the greatest, so it compares the substances, quan
tities or qualities of the finite with the infinite ; and in the first
instance probably supposes, for the supposition is extremely
natural, that God is the least or simple element of quantity and
space, and likewise the greatest. Yet as the reasoning goes
deeper, the inference comes, that if God be the least, then he
cannot be infinite; for the least or minimum of quantity or
quality still retains somewhat of the finite ; according to which,
God is not infinite : and so the mind plunges deeper into
the knotty labyrinth, and can hardly emerge from it again.
For what is that minimum which is infinitely little? What
is the infinitely little, or the infinitely least ? Such an entity
is impossible, and therefore there is no escape in this direction.
There is no quantity infinitely small. All quantity must be
either finitely least, or it must be a simple of some kind ; or the
subject must be infinite without predication of quantity, mag
nitude, space, extension, form, quality, or smallness. Further-

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OP CREATION. 9
more, as there can be no proportion between the infinite and
the finite, there is therefore the same between the least finite
and the infinite as between the greatest finite and the infinite.
The difference between the two finites, or between the greatest
and the least of nature, is itself finite; and therefore makes
nothing relatively to the infinite ; so that no possible ratio exists.
Here then the mind is again at fault, and this time is deeper
plunged than ever in the formidable maze.
inrespect of motion ^® t^^u the infinite is not the least of sub-
and celerity, there is stautials, the least of extension, the least of
710 T'GlotzOtl liGtWGGTh
the infinite and the quantity, or the least of form, that is to say.
Mite- is not the least of geometrical entities, the
human mind goes onwards, turns over the subject in every way,
and asks whether the infinite may not be the pure and least ac
tuality ; at once the least and the greatest in motion, in celerity,
in motive force; in short, whether it may not be at once the
least and the greatest of mechanical entities? The mind is
aware that no finite can exist without a cause ; that nothing can
result or happen from causes without a mode ; that modification
can never take place without a change or variation of limits,
either of those of the parts or the whole : that nothing can
experience such variation of limits, or of the parts and the
whole, without motion : that motion cannot exist without a
substance that is moved : and that no substance can undergo
motion without assuming reference to degrees and moments,
which give birth to succession in celerity, or what is the same
thing, in time ; and hence to motive powers in mechanics. As
then motion or mode supposes the finite and substantial ; or as
the mechanical always immediately supposes the geometrical;
and as the infinite cannot admit of modification, the mind con
cludes again that the infinite cannot be the greatest mechanical
entity in the sphere of leasts ; more especially as it is not the
least geometrical entity ; the former being a causate and effect,
while the cause and efficient lies in the latter.
Is the infinite the Still, howevcr, the mind is dissatisfied and
pure and simple ? perplexed, and to enable it to investigate the
essence of its infinite and its divinity, it passes analytically from
geometrical and mechanical grounds, to a something analogous
to the geometrical or mechanical; to something conceived as

10 THE INFINITE,
pure ; to an entity that is not finite ; that is indivisible, not ex
tended, not consisting of parts, and therefore neither formal, nor
modified ; in a word, to the pure simple. And in this it recog
nizes a kind of primitive, causant, and agent, preceding the
state in which finites can exist from it, and finite existences
subsist. For extended entities must originate and subsist ulti
mately from non-extended : entities possessing magnitude, di
mension, space and form, must come from entities destitute of
these categories : limited beings from non-limited : geometrical
entities from geometrical points : in a word, all compounds from
relative simples ; and these latter from positive or pure simples.
But if the pure simple be the primitive, from which compounds
could exist by succession, as the limited exists from the un
limited, the extended from the non-extended, the geometrical
from geometrical points, or as numbers from simple units;
still they could not have existed without a mode, or some ana
logue of a mode ; nor without reference to some sort of limit in
the simple, although it may be only a single limit, the simple
therefore being not finite ; for the finite must consist at least of
two terms, or of two ends ; and therefore must originate out of
the multiplication of simples in a simple mode or analogue of a
mode. The result is, that still the mind does not see that it has
approached the essence of the infinite, because the infinite is
devoid of all parts, terms and modes; and moreover involves
nothing that can be said to resemble geometrical and mechani
cal entities.
Is the infinite Still finding himself here entangled in an
eternal? inextricable difficulty, the philosopher turns to
other sides of the question, and considers whether God be infi
nite, or not; or whether there be any infinity in respect of
time ; or what amounts to the same thing, whether there be any
eternity, or not ? Generally speaking the conclusion is, that
there is nothing but has had an origin. When anything is pre
sented as existing, there must be a commencement, time and
source from which it began to exist. No entity or actuality can
possibly be, without having an origin, if not within myriads of
years, at least within myriads of myriads ; or if not within these,
the mind only multiplies and multiplies again innumerable
myriads by innumerable other myriads, until it supposes that

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. II
it hits the origin by this process. Now therefore it occurs to
the philosopher, that there was a time when God took his rise,
according to which he cannot be eternal. Yet He is styled
eternal, and eternity is time without end, or is, in respect to
time, the infinite we seek. And time itself is no more than a
peculiar relation to modes proceeding from finite and substan
tial beings ; like celerity in motion, namely, its successiveness ;
and denotes only the degrees and moments thereof; and thus is
like to, and almost identical with, celerity; and consequently is
mechanical, and therefore similar to the geometrical ; for where
there is no substance there is no celerity, and where there is no
celerity there is no time. Pondering these considerations, the
mind doubts and hesitates respecting the existence of eter
nity, and whether there is aught from eternity ; aught that has
never at any time had an origin, however far back such origin
might be in multiplied series of myriads of years. It falls then
again into precisely the same difficulty, and stumbles over this
identical and inexplicable first question : particularly as quan
tity, space, motion, time, and aU things, conspire and consent
naturally and rationally in declaring, that there is no infinity in
any one of them.
If the philosopher be determined of purpose, he does not cut
the knot, or reject the difficulty, until he has wandered over the
whole of rational philosophy, both in general and in particular,
and at one time diffused, at another concentrated his attention,
and divided, and again divided, and multiplied by degrees and
powers, and gone from one deep part of the question to another,
and this repeatedly; and until he finds that although in his cal
culus he can apparently approach the indefinite, yet that never
theless he is coming no nearer to the infinite, or to anything
like it, or to anything without end. At last, when he sees all
these impenetrable mazes, when he has had such repeated expe
rience of their difficulties, and has found that they all combine
to form one and the same unfathomable problem, viz., this, that
by all the reasons of the case no infinite can possibly exist,
because it does not exist for any rational, natural, or geometrical
analysis, — after this result, he secretly concludes that the divine
essence is probably not infinite, but indefinite, and the least and
the greatest in all things : and as he sees in the greatest too a

12 THE INFINITE,
natural and geometrical condition, or an analogue of the least in
quantity, space and time ; he guesses that the Divine is the prime
being of nature ; and consequently that nature and God are in
a manner one and the same. And thus occasionally the philoso
pher may at length, by his own imperfect investigations and
analyses, become a worshipper, not of God, but of nature.

§11.
^, ,. , , , We have hitherto shewn how the human
The subject taken . ¦ /~i j j
up, and concluded in mind, ill philosophizing concerning God and
the affirmative. ^^^ infinite, at last may incHne to the wrong
side, and no longer see how an infinite or eternal being is pos
sible : or how anything can exist that is absolutely devoid of
extension, space and matter ; devoid of all attributes or essen
tials that have any similarity to geometrical, mechanical, and
finite things ; or to anything whatever that can possibly be per
ceived by the imagination. I will however make common cause
with the philosophers, so far as to admit that by no comparison
with finite and perceivable things, and by no similitude, and by
no force or faculty of the soul aud the understanding, can we
penetrate into anything that is in God, or in his infinity. I will
also go further, and grant that not angels, — if the reader believe
in angels, but whether or not, suppose for the present that they
exist, and suppose that their souls are similar to ours, or even
not similar, but more sensitive, perfect, pure and wise, — I grant,
I say, that not even such beings can penetrate into the essence
of the infinity of God. T will further add, that from reasoning
of this kind, there is no help against our faUing into doubt
respecting infinity. For we cannot perceive it by analogy with
what we know akeady; on the contrary, the object is in a
manner nothing in relation to all our knowledge ; and conse
quently, all respect of the infinite by the finite is inevitably
lost. Ought we to reason I^ut perhaps the reader thinks he has cause
about infinity ? ^ object, that philosophy has no right at all to
reason upon the essence and infinity of God, since such a proce
dure is vain, and leads direct to errors; but that we ought rather

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 13
at once to comprehend and embrace it in faith, as a sacred, re
vealed, and indubitable truth ; for whatever is proved by Holy
Scripture, stands in no need of proof by reason, by rational phi
losophy, or by geometry : and whatever is proved by the infinite is
proved in all these ways quite sufficiently. I confess that this is
in all justice the preferable view, and that reason may properly be
banished from mysteries and holy ground ; and moreover, that
those persons are the happiest to whom it is given by grace to
do thus. Nevertheless it is impossible to deny, that there are
vast numbers in the philosophical world who have no choice left
in this particular, but who fall into deep thought on the divine
essence. For the law of humanity is, that if the mind begins
to reason, it cannot help going deeper and deeper. Not only is
the pleasure of the pursuit heightened and increased by the
exercise, but it strongly tends to fix the mind upon the object,
and makes it descend into particulars and specialities one after
another, leaving it no longer free to curb its ratiocinations.
There cannot be the shadow of a doubt, that the human mind
has an innate desire to philosophize on the unknown, and all
the more if God, the soul, or human salvation, are in discus
sion, or any other subjects that our thoughts and minds are
ordered constantly to keep before them. Every one, however,
has not the power to dictate the manner in which he shall think,
and to adhere to that alone. Thus, as we said before, the per
sistency of the philosopher is natural and human. As then it
is human for the mind, when thinking, to choose to think phi
losophically, we are forced to say, I see that it is so, although it
ought not to be so : I see that on these subjects it is wrong to
philosophize, and yet that men do notwithstanding reason philo
sophically; although they are unable to conceive, still they
desire to conceive; and their reasonings actually hinder them
from comprehending by faith the objects of faith : that without
the peculiar grace of God, a secure, certain, and undoubting
confession of infinity can never be expected from free reason ;
although the error here comes not from reason, but from the
mode of reasoning on the infinite by comparison with things in
the finite sphere.

14 THE INFINITE,
§ ni.
Assuredly pains and labor are needed to enable us to con
vince the mind when in error. Thus, if we hear any one speak
ing philosophically, as above described, we cannot possibly
acquiesce in all he says, or be silent before his arguments. On
the contrary, we ai'c bound to talk with him, to take up his dis
course, and to convince or vanquish him by reason. Without the
assistance of reason, it would be useless to expect success. If
then, we wish to shake him in his opinion, we must use reason,
and not prayers alone. We must indeed be scrupvdously careful
to conquer him mediately, or by the use of means ; that is to
say, by words, and by arguments, and in short by his own
philosophy. If we leave him without using means, we shall
always be in doubt whether or no he has the power to conceive
the contrary and the better opinion, and whether he wiU not
Reason is to be argue otherwise at another time. Duty requires
«««<^- us to discuss reasons by reasons, particularly in
matters and points of faith, which affect the human mind so
powerfully, that when once the individual is convinced of them
by reason, there is nothing whatever, not even the loss of
human dehghts, no, nor death itself, that can afterwards make
him swerve from them : so greatly does the mind respect itself.
To convince reason, reason must inevitably be made use of, and
persist in the even tenor and series of argumentations and in
ductions. Were we to seek causes and reasons from any other
source than reason, the mind might be turned away in a false
direction, the conclusion be foreign to our aim, and the reason
ing faculty be established in its errors. And as we are treating
of God, the soul, the salvation of man, and his happiness after
death, it is worth our while to put forth all the powers, and
strain every nerve, of reason. Still it is easy to foresee, (if we
persist in the same series of arguments, with the intention of
searching out the infinite essence of God, and of deducing his
infinity as a result of our exploration, or if we question whether
the infinite be the origin and cause of nature,) it is easy, I say,
to foresee, that we can never vanquish the philosopher with
arguments hke the above, which are in fact his own, but more
likely we ourselves will fall into his maze, and be unable to find

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 15
an outlet without undergoing another and more considerable
labor. Is there an infi- '^^^ essential question at present is, whether
nite, or not ? is the there be an infinite, or not, or whether there
firs ques ion. ^^ ^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^ nature that he can be called
infinite ? This is made a question, and this therefore must in
the first instance be canvassed and demonstrated by reason.
Until it is settled, we have nothing to do with the other ques
tion which respects the quality or character of the Divine
Essence, or its infinity, or non-infinity. The essential question
is of existence first, not of character or quality. The question
of AN sit precedes ; that of qualis sit must follow. If we
would enquire into the quality of the infinite, (in other words,
the QUALE sit,) we must antecedently be certain of its exist
ence, (or the AN sit). The same apphes to our enquiries into
nature. If we desired to know what angels are, or the soul, or
man, the question of whether they are anything at all — of
whether they exist, or not, — must preface our enquiries. Al
though if we have attained to a knowledge of the quale — of
the character of the thing — it will be impossible any longer to
entertain the question of an, or of its existence. In whatever
mode, whether philosophically or geometrically, we attempt to
explore the unknown, we are bound to certify ourselves whether
the subject exists, or not, or whether a quality lies in it, or
the contrary. As soon as it is our fortune to be assured of its
existence, we have then permission and right to enquire into its
quality. Let us then be true to the series of reasons, and post
poning all arguments derivable from the nature of the infinite,
or the essence and quality, let us simply moot the question of
existence; i.e. Is there an Infinite, or is there not?
For the purpose of prosecuting our inquiry, let us accept the
very conclusion with which reason presents us, viz., that natu
rally, or in nature, the infinite is impossible ; that that which
is the first or least of things, is a natural something, or similar
to a natural; the infinite being as nothing in proportion.
Granting then a first or least natural something, or any analogue
What can be the thereof, the question occurs. Whence, and by
cause of the emst- yjjj,],uE OF WHAT CAUSE COuld SUch an entity
ence of the first na- ....
turai principle ? exist ? This of itself incites our reason to en-

16 THE infinite,
deavor to ascertain its cause. If we suppose that it existed
from itself, or was its own cause, we at once have a conse
quence which is flatly repugnant to reason. If it be finite, if
natural, or if similar to a finite or natural, that which is finite
in it, or which is natural, or analogous to natural, must have a
cause or origin. If it admits in it aught that is similar to the
finite, whence comes this similar ? How can it admit anything
in it without a cause ? Thus the philosopher straightway sees
that his mind is toiled anew in the old difficulty ; and he finds
that he now doubts what he had before concluded on the ground
of his own reason respecting the origin of nature. For he wishes
at all events to give a competent answer to the question of the
source and cause, whereby this first natural could exist, and
exist in the manner that it does. Reason dictates clearly, that
it could not originate itself, because it is finite, or similar to
finite, and must in the first instance be finited, or made similar
to the finite. The philosopher therefore now revolves in his
mind whether it can exist from itself: he affh-ms, denies, doubts;
he sees that it cannot be, but that there must have been a cause
for it. If it did exist from itself, it could not even do this by
accident; because one sees, that where no cause is present,
neither is any case or accident : casualty itself demands not a
simple or single but a multiple causation. Furthermore, if the
natural primitive arose by accident, and were such as accident
could make it, how could all its derivatives and subsequent
issues be of such distinguished harmony, that not only the ele
ments, worlds and planets, but the vast and beautiful kingdoms
founded upon them, should exist in an order and tenor at once
so stupendous and so delightful. Nothing of the kind could
come by accident ; for if it did, then all the productions subse
quent upon it, would be similar to the accident, and destitute
of order : in short, the supposition of accident is unsuited to the
occasion. If we say that the above natural did not indeed
proceed from accident, but from something remotely like it,
the same nodus, the same inextricable difficulty still remains.
Whence this something? If again we say, from itself; pray
then whence this precise finite with its distinctive qualities?
And here the mind again suggests, that if finite it be, there
must have been a time when it was finited : therefore time must

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OP CREATION. 17
enter into the case, and origin also. If it came from itself, or
by accident, why did it not come sooner; since it might as
easily have arisen before as when it did ? Therefore one does not
see in this way either, how primitive nature could have existed
from itself. The end is, that we conclude with reason, as
nothing finite or similar thereto can arise without a cause, that
primitive nature had a cause.
The mind is bound ^^ ^^^^^ primitive nature existed from a cause,
to acknowledge the the cause could not be finite, either in itself, or
infinite, as an answer ... . . ^ -p ., .± -i it t .
to the question of I'l !*« Origin ; for if it were, it also would desi-
<'''"«• derate a cause, to finite it. We conclude there
fore again with reason, that the infinite is the cause of the
finite, albeit we do not know the nature or quale of the infinite.
Thus, though we are so far ignorant, yet are we bound to ac
knowledge the infinite as a cause ; and consequently to acknow
ledge the first and least natural entity as a causate. Thus by
the question of whence, of cause, or of unde, we may be
brought to a confession of the infinite, but not by the question
of QUALITY, distinctive nature, or quale.
— In answer to ^^^ ^^ revert once more to the arguments
the question of the brought forward previously!,' and prosecute them
cav.se of the least or ... , ¦ ^ ^i • ¦ ^ ^i
first principle of na- seriatim, and persistently enqmre into the
ture. WHENCE of things, and we shall see that the
mind and reason will answer us that all things came from the
infinite. For example, if we enquire first into quantity, exten
sion or space, in which the mind had acknowledged that there
was a least dimension ; and if we divide and subdivide them into
lesser and least, still we shaU never arrive at the first or the infi
nitely least portion of them ; although we may think that we
come at the indefinitely least. For the world cannot exist with
out a first principle. Therefore this least extension or quantity
must be either the least of nature, or like the least, or else the
simple. If we press onwards (and onwards we are forced to go,
since we perceive that nothing can exist from itself, but that aU
things have causes), we endeavor of necessity to proceed hx mind
from the finite to something that can be called indefinite ; nor
can we rest in the indefinite, and make an end there without
reference to a cause, or suppose the indefinite the first cause.
On the contrary, we are forced to terminate our view with a
c

18 . THE INFINITE,
being that involves no quantity, no extension, and no relation
to quantity or extension ; no relations or proportions whatever,
no likeness, i. e. no finite ; in short, a being identical with the
Infinite. If we would pass from this primitive or simple to
the first mode or motion, it must either be simple or pure, or
merely an effort or internal state tending to motion. But
whence? Granting that it is a state or conatus to motion, it
again cannot originate itself, but must certainly have its source
from something else : if from another finite, then whence its
motion, effort, or state ? As there is finiteness in its motion, so
there is the same, or something similax to motion, in the effort
or the internal tendency to motion. Thus ultimately by this
way also we arrive at the infinite, and are enabled to make con
fession thereof.
Whence the in- Seeing then that the cause of the Simple, by
M'te <" the joint confession of reason and the soul, is
not otherwise derivable_than immediately from the infinite, our
philosopher may choose to persist in asking for the cause of the
infinite itself. The answer to this from his own reason, as from
the lips of Themis, or from behind the veil of the Temple, is to
the effect that the infinite cannot possibly admit of a foreign
cause, but must have its cause in itself, or be the cause of itself.
Every finite must be finited by a cause. The indefinite is only
so called in relation to the finite ; and has a quale or distinctive
nature that obtains its very distinctness by a cause, or from
some other being. But what is infinite, cannot be finited or
rendered finite : it cannot be made to have a distinctive quahty,
it cannot be affected in one way or another, or in one time or
another, because it is not finitable, or finite, but infinite. Prior
and posterior, great and small, are not to be predicated of the
one infinite. As then it cannot be finited, so, being infinite,
it is involved in its own cause.
When did the in- And if again it be asked. When the Infinite
finite originate? originated? the same answer must be given,
viz., that the infinite is infinite in point of time also. If infinite
in one thing, it cannot be finite in another. In time, as weU as
in space and extension, there is a greatest and a least ; in time,
as well as in motion or celerity, there are succession, degrees,
and moments. Indeed, finites cannot be caUed finite unless

and the PINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 19
under the relations of time and succession. Of the pure simple,
as not being finite, neither time nor succession can be predi
cated; but with respect to origin it is regarded as instantaneous;
yet still not etemal, but in a manner, before time. And as the
infinite has no cause in anything, so it can have no origin in
anything ; for origin involves cause, as being in relation to time
considered as finited by moments : and as the infinite is the
cause of itself, or more adequately speaking, is in the cause of
itself, so also it is in the origin of itself. In a word, where there
is no substantial or finite, there is no mode, motion or celerity :
where there is no celerity, there are no degrees and moments,
and consequently no time. The infinite is therefore identical
with the eternal, and is in truth eternal in aU time ; time being
only a peculiar relation of the finite sphere; whence nothing
past, future, or successive can be predicated of the infinite, in
which aU is present and sempiternal, both with respect to the
past and the future.
By this Hue of reasoning I think that the human mind
acknowledges God as infinite, and as the cause of the finite,
and consequently of nature ; and that it no longer rests in the
primitive substance of nature, so as to make God and primitive
nature one and the same ; or to attribute all things to nature ;
but, on the contrary, sees that all are due to the Infinite, or in
other words, to God. § IV.
Having thus at last attained to confession of the infinite, so
that, nolens volens, reason is obliged to admit a something that is
utterly unknown, and can never be resolved by the known, a
being who is properly termed Infinite, — let us now take this
confession and tacit admission, and proceed onwards, and see
whether we can, by reason, attain to a stiU more distinct ac
knowledgment, that there is an infinite, or that God is infinite,
and that God is the author and producer of nature. Reasoning
a priori we have found in the foregoing pages that this unknown
being exists, or that there is an infinite : we wiU now enquire
experimentaUy whether the same conclusion becomes irresistible
when we reason a posteriori.
c2

20 THE INFINITE,
What is ihe dis- Let US coufiue our attention still to the first
"«»ri:41; ^^^ smallest natural principle, so that we may
nature? not disturb the worshipers of nature in their
circles and spheres, but may keep them constantly attentive to
their own principles, and allow no foreign considerations to
interfere between their minds and the conclusion. It is granted
then that the least natural entity derived its origin from the
infinite, for we have already seen that no other origin of it was
possible : the question now is. What are the distinctive quali
ties of this least natural or primitive entity ? Is it the first seed
of nature ? Does it involve any natural predicate, like what we
find in nature ? Or is it only an analogue or simile of the sub
stances, essentials, attributes, modes, &c., that we observe in
nature ? Here I will answer agreeably and in conformity to the
principles of those I am reasoning with, that it has in it every
primitive quality that there is in nature, and every simple also ;
that consequently it is the seed of all natural things ; that it is
their principle ; that it is that out of which, by degrees and
moments, ultimate nature is unfolded : in a word, that there is
in it, as primitive entity, everything whatever that we can pos
sibly conceive as existing in nature ; and that thus in this prime,
or in an indefinite number of these primes or leasts, nature
exists in her very seed; out of which, whether considered as
one or many, she ultimately issues forth in all her diversity, in
aU her manifoldness, with all her distinct and abundant series,
mighty in the heavens, in the worlds, in the planets, in the
kingdoms of each peculiar planet, elemental, mineral, vegetable,
in the parts of aU these kingdoms, and in the parts of the parts;
in short, with whatever can be predicated of her as nature, in
her least or her greatest sphere. But as to what the Simple
seems to have been, we have treated of this subject at some
length in our Principia,* in the Chapter on the Eleihents.
Be it then according to the opinion of those who hold that
all things issued in natural order from the first entity, simple,
seed, least, or primitive. I am now anxious not to disturb
* The Principia; or, the First Principles of Natural Things, being new
Attempts toward a Philosophical Explanation of the Elementary World. (Trans
lated from the Latin by the Rev. Augustus Clissold, M.A., 2 Vols. 8vo.,
London. 1846,- and published by the Swsvenboilg Association).— ('2V.^

AND THE PINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 21
them in their new-born acknowledgment of infinity and God,
and therefore I shall not attribute anything to God immediately
that they themselves think, or can think, should in right reason
be attributed to nature. For I am willing to make concessions,
in order to secure a kindlier and more cordial unanimity between
us in our arguments. Nor is there any harm in taking their
side of the question, inasmuch as they now acknowledge nature
to be not the first cause of the world, but the second, and the
second cause to be not self-active, save in so far as it has re
ceived, and perpetuaUy receives, its activity from the first cause,
that is, from the Infinite. Moreover they now grant that
nature was produced by the Infinite, or God, for they acknow
ledge it as a causate, and the Infinite as a cause. Let us then
see whether the Infinite may not be still better acknowledged
from this ground, namely, if we concede these points; and
whether it does not necessarily follow, and indeed shine forth
with fresh distinctness, that nature cannot be its own cause, but
that the Infinite is the cause of nature.
We grant that all Let it be granted then that all things what-
Syrlir^n-: ever in both the visible and invisible worids are
miiive entity. derived from the least natural primitives ; more
over that they issued successively therefrom by a natural, me
chanical, geometrical, physical, or any other necessity you
please. What is the consequence ? Plainly this : that in these
primitives lay the peculiar nature and power to produce all things
thus by natural necessity ; and that all things inhered in this
power or nature, either as analogues, or as causes ; under which
forms they would be similar to their natural effects, both in
attributes, essence and modes. In whatever numbers and of
whatever character they may be conceived to exist, either philo
sophically or rationally, still it will follow, that a power, aptitude
and faculty of producing aU things, as ultimately they were pro
duced, lay in them. I am unwUling to deny the principles of
those I am reasoning with ; for by no possibility can I frame so
many details in this involution of causes in primitives, as I am
ready and willing to grant: for the more I grant, the more
surely my reader must acknowledge the conclusion.
Let us now repeat our first deduction, viz., that the infinite
is the cause of the first or least finite. On this point we are
already agreed. Then I just now granted that the whole world.

22 THE INFINITE,
including its series, appendages, and parts, came forth in na
tural order, and by any necessities you please, from the same
least and primary finite. What is the result but this, that the
In the primitives quality of producing these consequents lay in
'plduL^t^cS tlie primitives or leasts? For nothing can be
sequences. produced from a seed, unless the seed contain an
aptitude for, and a quahty of, producing it, or developing itself.
And though this quality may seem to exist in the sequences or
derivatives as weU, yet still they must have received their share
of it from their first principle ; shewing therefore that in the
latter lay cause, and quality, and the whole scope and power of
the primitive. Let us then consider it certain that there was in
it everything whatever, be its characteristics what they may,
that one can naturally dream of or imagine. Now comes the
question. Whence all this in the primitive entity? It is no
longer denied that it derived its origin from the infinite ; and
that its origin was answerable to its distinctive nature. It
follows therefore that aU that one can suppose to have lain in
the state of primitive entity in the first principle, derived its
origin from the infinite, — from God who alone is infinite.
We admire aiina- ^^ ^'^ ^^re Ulustrate the foregoing subject
turai things in their by a few Comparative instances. We see that
man has numerous members, numerous senses,
and a large faculty of reasoning ; also numerous internal parts.
If we fix upon any of the parts, as for instance the cerebrum,
it again has numerous parts of its own, both membranes, sub
stances, nerves, marrows, and other appendages, besides fiuids.
And the rest of the body the same. When we examine its
parts, we find them severally furnished with manifold arteries,
fibres, tendons and tunics, and possessing a fine mechanical
adaptation for every movement they are intended to perform.
If we consider the parts one by one, in every nerve we see
numbers of membranes, numbers of branches, and infinite
details ; and if we take any part of these again, we find num
bers of vessels of different classes; and the same if we take
parts of parts, and repeat the observation. Then if we choose to
exalt our vision by the microscope, how much more stiU shall we
bring to light ! Yet all these objects and details have arisen
out of one seed, — out of one primitive substance. If therefore
we now direct our attention to the human body, and its parts.

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 23
and their parts, and at the same time to its first substance in
the ovum, and submit both to the operation of the mind, we
shall in that case more greatly wonder at the ovum, least, or
natural primitive of the body, than at the body itself. The
greater case of admiration puts out the lesser. What we wonder
at on a great scale, in large objects, we wonder at stUl more as
able to exist on the minutest scale, in the least of things. Ad
miration and astonishment are concentrated on that least sphere,
wondering how it could involve the power to produce the whole
system ; and such a system ! When we say that in this least
Ues the cause of the whole, we are struck with admiration of
the cause. If I say that this has its cause, admiration rises to
higher powers in contemplating that cause. If I say that this
lay in that least first principle, and not this alone, but an inde
finite number of similar things, and of other things besides,
then our amazement is increased almost to infinity ; and we ask
ourselves how such a power, or anything like it, could lie in
the primitive, as to enable the whole to exist as it does with all
its distinctness. The closing wonder is felt when we declare
that the first cause of this distinct least principle lies in the
infinite. Then if the mind were capable of the state, it would
be infinitely wrapt in amazement, at finding that in the least
first principle there lay a distinct ground and cause for the pro
duction of so grand a result or system. Did we choose at
the same time to consider other individual objects of nature,
which exist in indefinite number in the visible world, we should
but see the same fact, and be presented by every object with
the same conclusion ; to wit, that in the first entity or principle
we must wonder at the infinite most ; and that that which is
visible, allures us to admire it in the first instance, because it
plays before our senses ; but that afterwards it leads us onwards
to a greater admiration of its origin or cause, not merely as a
cause, but as involving in its single self a power of producing
modification in all its derivatives : and that ultimately it forces
us to sheer astonishment at the quality in the first principle :
and as wonder cannot possibly end there, so it must end of neces
sity in the very first cause, that is, in the Infinite, in whom lies
all that we wonder at ; in whom we wonder at the Infinite only,
and by no means at the natural on its own account, but in its

24 THE INFINITE,
cause. In instruments and machines, such as clocks or watches
of exquisite and elaborate workmanship, we admire the motion,
the wheels, and the fine mechanism, yet these are not objects
of wonder, since wheels, powers and mechanism are famiUar to
us : what we really though unconsciously wonder at is the first
cause ; not the first cause considered as organic or mechanical,
for this may be of the simplest construction ; but the cause in
the person of the inventor; and not the inventor as he who
made, but as he who invented ; that is, foresaw that this con
sequence would flow from that ; and that an instrument of such
a make would produce such or such an effect, and no other.
Was all nature We wUl now admit further, that aU things
once in these leasts ? proceeded in natural order from these least first
principles to the greatest effects, in series, by causes, by neces
sity of causes, by motions manifold in derivation, and by the
powers and forces of the same. StiU it follows, that the cha
racterizing power of this distinct procession, lay in the first
principle or least entity, and that this least obtained it from its
own cause, that is, from the infinite. The more then we choose
to send the mind abroad over the details of the subject and the
series ; the more we wonder at in nature ; the more we heap
causes upon causes ; the more we multiply, divide, and reckon
up motive powers ; the more must we wonder at the first and
the least of nature, and the more at the Infinite, its cause.
Amazement cannot stop short in the causate, or end but in the
cause ; nor in the cause, as a cause, but as an infinitely intel
ligent cause : in this it must necessarily increase to the dimen
sions of the cause, in short, it must become as infinite as its
object. The greater war- I* ^^J ^'^^ ^^ Concluded, that the more
shipers of nature we highly WC think of nature, the more we attri-
are, the greater wor- i . , ., ,, n • •, ,i
shipers of Deity we "'•^te to it, the more WC worship it, the more we
may become. explore and wouder at it ; and the more nume
rous the causes, mechanical, geometrical, and natural, that we
make necessary, the more must we wonder at the Infinite, who
is the cause of all things. For the greater adorers and wor
shipers of nature we are, the more we go back to the causes and
primitives of nature ; the more also we come to simple prin
ciples, and the more we acknowledge that all the others origin-

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 25
ated successively from the natural primitive ; and the more again
we are led to wonder at the state of this natural primitive ; and
how all things that we see, and can possibly imagine, nay, how
not only mechanical but even physical causes themselves, can
have lain involved in it. I am anxious therefore that the
reasoner should centre all his admiration in that first or least
principle with which he supplies me ; for by this means wiU it
not aU end in the cause of that principle ? that is, in the infi
nite, as having produced the principle ? Therefore in proportion
as we worship nature, and beUeve in her as the origin of natural
things, in the same proportion we may become worshipers of
the Deity; because, out of the entirely perfect succession of
things, modes, causes, contingents, we may experience deeper
wonder over primitives, than others can do in contemplating
the whole field of derivatives.
From theperfec- Moreover in the phUosophical primitive or
tion of the primitive, least, or in the simple principle of nature, we
may in a measure contemplate infinity in another way; we
mean, by regarding the perfection of the primitive. For if it
be so perfect as to result in the production, by multitudinous
causes, necessities, motive powers, and all-pervading series, of
the entire imiverse, — of a universe, in which there is no part
but conspires most perfectly from one end to the other, through
an unbroken chain of means, — can we not contemplate infinity
in this; or at any rate an attribution that we are unable to
conceive analogically or finitely, and yet which must have been
present in a manner in the primitive; in short, a superlative
perfection of nature which can come from the infinite alone. In
this way then, again we must acknowledge the infinite.
§ V.
Before the world could have attained its pre-
Were there con- i i • i i -u j. u p
tingencies in thepri- sent completeness and desirable beauty, before
mitiw? ^ series could have arrived so harmonicaUy
at the actual end; innumerable contingencies, and contin
gencies of contingencies must have been present, and innu
merable modes and modifications also. Granting that aU things
proceeded with the greatest unanimity, by mechanical and phy-

26 THE INFINITE,
sical necessity, from the least first principles, to the ultimate
compounds of the world, — though I am unwilling yet to state
that it was so, before it is proved by arguments and reasons, —
but granting it for the present; it foUows, that nature could
not cause contingencies, and give causes to causes, so that all
things should conspire and proceed in combination in the won
derful manner that they do, to a single end, uiUess the essential
and absolute cause were present in the primitive entity, and by
its derivation through a succession of compounds, completed the
world in a continuous chain in one distinctive manner. If then
the contingencies also were in the primitive entity, it follows as
a matter of course, that that could be nothing less than infinite
wisdom from which only the most perfect principles and order
immediately proceeded. It follows also, that in this way, aU
things that as regards time were future, were present, and in
trinsically existent in act, in the primitive entity. It foUows
also, that we have an indefinite perfection to consider in the
primitive ; and that the existence of the infinite takes new plain
ness from this ground. Nor does this seem to be so far from the
truth as perhaps on a first consideration might appear. For it
is not denied that aU things were present with God at the
beginning of creation ; or that he foresaw all things, and at once
exerted his providence in aU things ; and consequently formed
them in such vrise as to tend spontaneously to the truest end.
What God produced immediately could not fail to be superla
tively perfect. Consequently nothing but what was equally per
fect could lie in the first principle ; for nothing of imperfection
can issue from the infinite. If then it were the very pinnacle of
possible perfection, aU things must have existed in it in potency
that would ever exist from it in act ; which leads to the further
inference, that aU the causes also, physical as weU as mechan
ical, that were destined in succession to perfect the world, must
have existed by implication in the same. These premises, how
ever, by no means involve fatalism in the series of nature : or
that God is remotely the cause of imperfection, which began
to exist, in the world and in man, by reason of the existence
[God is not the °^ ^^^ luiperfectioii, as the result of evU, must
cause of imperfec- have its cause in the finite, and not in the infi
nite. If the primitive, as it arose immediately

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 27
from the infinite, were superlatively perfect, and the other deriva
tive existences were less and less so, it is a plain proof, that the
latter had their origin from finites successively and immediately,
which would account for a successive or graduated series of im
perfections. It is a proof, moreover, that in the origin of these
other things which are comparatively imperfect, there was more
and more of the natural principle involved, — more and more of
that which was divine only mediately, or after the intervention
of nature. Nature, then, or the finite, and not the infinite, is
the cause of aU imperfection.
Nevertheless all Furthermore it may be argued with good
things are from God. reason, that aU things whatever, whether com
pound or simple, the whole or the parts, the heavens or the
worlds, were created and produced by God alone, and not by
nature. To nature nothing can be attributed, because all things
are so made as to conspire and proceed together, spontaneously
and necessarily, from the first end, through the means, to the
second or last end ; that thus the cause of one thing may come
from the cause directly preceding it; and all the causes be
therefore centred in the first cause : so that to attribute any
thing to a natural cause, is the same ultimately as attributing it
to the first cause, or to God alone. Nature is then but a me
chanism, which is bound to keep certain sequences because the
first cause has so willed, or what amounts to the same thing, be
cause He so wills now. Therefore all that there is in the world
is the work of God, and none of it is the work of nature. So
likewise whatever we wonder at in nature — whatever we think
wise, exact, harmonic, whether below or above our senses — we
wonder at, not as natural, but as divine. There is nothing
natural but is divine ; and so in every portion of the world, to
whatever corner we turn our eyes, there is nothing existing
wherein we ought not to wonder at the Creator and the cause.
Hence it follows, that the more we wonder at nature^s play, the
more do we wonder at the infinite in nature : because the na
tural is nothing but obedience ; and not even obedience, inas
much as nature is forced by necessity to obey.
We may attribute Since then there is nothing natural that we
[causation'] to nature, p^n wonder at, still Icss worship, on its own
account, but only as divine, we may now, acknowledging this.

28 THE INFINITE,
nominaUy attribute to nature, or make use of her name, al
though nature is not the infinite, but the finite. Much in the
same manner as when we frame an artificial machine with our
hands and fingers; after which, we have a right to caU it
a machine, and to say that force or power resides in it; in
which case, although the force is now in the machine, yet we
do not wonder at the machine, but at him who made it. For it
was put together by the hands and fingers, and in this way may
be called their work ; and so we wonder at the maker's hand as
the real machine : though even this improperly ; for the hand
cannot claim to be more a machine, or to have more the force
of one, than as it was the means or instrument of construction.
We may therefore go further, and declare that the ultimate ma
chine was the work of the human body, and so wonder at the work
man in a gross sense ; but even then the object is not worth the
wonder, because, in so far as the machine was the work of the
hand, it was already the work of the body. We may then again
extend our inferences, to the consideration that the machine
was the work of this or that individual; and further, to the
conclusion, that it was the work of man considered exclu
sively as a rational being, and therefore the produce of his ima
gination and scientific skUI. Nor is even this true, unless
we add, that it was the work of his soul too, that is to say, in
so far as it is a work of reason, by whose instrumentaUty it was
invented, and indeed by whose command it was ultimately con
structed. And in the work therefore we admire the wisdom
and intellect of the inventor, but not the actual machine, ex
cept for its abstract mechanism ; nor do we admire the hand,
the body, or any of the other instruments whose obedience to
the soul is a mere matter of necessity.
To lead us then to acknowledge in the work and machine
the Builder and the Infinite, and to see not only his greatness,
but his infinity, and that nature and the finite can have no
claim to be more than means or instruments, which are bound
by necessity to do what they do : — to lead us demonstrably to
this issue, there are no better arguments than are furnished
by the contemplation of His very works themselves. For the
objects of nature touch the senses, which ultimately move the
soul, and mediately create a profound astonishment ; which can-

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 29
not SO Uvelily be done by reasons, without the survey and con
templation of some actual work of which the whole, as well as
the parts, are brought before the mind.
By the contem- Having premised so much, let us turn our
piation of nature, eyes to the heaveus, and contemplate the uni-
we are led to an tt n /¦ t , .¦< t 'i
acknowledgment of verse. How wouderiul to US are the heavens !
^°^- filled with stars innumerable ! enriched perhaps
with innumerable worlds like our own ! their very vastness in
our conception, sufficiently wonderful ! although it is probably
little that we see, and aU of it not a point to the Infinite. If
we regard the stars as so many suns, each having its planets
about it, and forming with them a separate world* or mun
dane system; then what a ground of wonder we have in the
multitude of worlds ! What a special wonder in the inde-
By the heavens, finitely finite ! And if we continue and extend
the contemplation, we find that a world, a single world, which
appears so boundlessly vast to us, is but one and a small part of
the universe. If we consider the parts, stars, or suns, or the
worlds, severally, we find them unitedly constitute one system,
which cannot subsist without the parts. Perchance every part
is so necessary to the system, that it could not be absent with
out breaking a link in the chain. If we use our eyes and
minds together in no greater field than our own world, small as
it is in relation to the universe, how innumerable are the objects
that greet us ! that move our amazement ! The sun, a planet,
a sateUite, our own specific earth, any part of any one of them,
would more than exhaust our space and time. Nay, there is
not a part but is necessary to the rest as well as to the whole,
and all together constitute a system with the parts so harmo
niously combined, that there is nothing therein that could be
absent with impunity ; nothing but has its peculiar use, both
for the subsistence of the other parts, and for the perfection of
the whole : to realize which, in anticipation of the end, inde
finite series and causes were required, mechanical as well as
physical or contingent, and coexistent as well as successive. If
these things were as perfect at once in the first momentum and
potency as they are perfect now in act and fact, — if aU things
* By a world, mundus, Swedenborg means a sun with its planets, or a single
solar system. — (Tr.)

30 THE INFINITE,
were present in the first entities, — what wonder should not
overcome us in considering the causes of the whole and of the
parts. By the structure As we are upon this subject, we wUl also
of the human body, contemplate the structure of the human body,
and shew therefrom, that there is nothing throughout it but is
necessary to the parts and the whole, or but is of use to the
subsistence of the whole : likewise that all things therein con
spire to a common end. But can nature by itself produce such
a combination of parts ? Can any machinery without an infinite
inteUigence ? Without a cause in God ? Without a Providence
most wise, reigning in contingent, physical, and mechanical
causes; which, had they not conspired in the wisest manner,
could never by possibiUty have originally come together of
themselves or by accident ? But as we are about to treat speci-
ficaUy on these subjects in our Theory of the Intercourse be
tween the Soul and the Body, we wiU here confine ourselves
to a general account of the use which the several parts appear to
perform for the whole.
Man, as we all know weU, was created to enjoy the delights
of the world, and to possess the earth for himself and his pos
terity. Wisdom and reason were given him, to venerate and
worship the infinite Deity, that he might better make use of
worldly delights, and have a finer or more delicious sense of
them, to lead him to associate them with heavenly : also to
carry the world to a new perfection, which it could not attain
without a material being and human means ; lastly, to com
mence a life and existence which should thenceforth be sempi
ternal and immortal, that he might increase the number of the
angels. And that man might accomplish these ends, a body
was given him, and parts and members were added to the body,
aU conspiring to the same end : a head was given him, with a
brain therein, and this brain endowed with senses, and the
senses with a soul.
Passing the bones of the skull,* (which are meant to defend
* The anatomical particulars in this work are taken almost word for word from
Heister's Compendium Anatomicum, to which reference has been made by the Trans
lator, for the purpose of correcting numerous errors, and of supplying what was
necessary to complete the sense. — fTr.)

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 31
and preserve the machinery of the brain,) and passing also the
coverings or integuments of the bones, namely, the cuticle,
cutis, pericranium and hair ; let us proceed at once to the inner
parts. And here the first structure that occurs is the dura
mater, a membrane consisting of tendinous fibres, lining the
skull, and united to it in numerous places ; whereby it defends
the underlying membranes and the substance of the cerebrum ;
strengthens both the brains, maintains their figure, and pre
serves their respective boundaries ; so that all the parts are kept
immoveably in the genuine and natural position, and the cere
brum is not injured by immediate contact with the bones ; be
sides which, this membrane serves as a means to bring certain
sensations inwards [to the soul]. Underneath it Ues the pia
mater, between which and the dura mater, according to some
anatomists, there is a third membrane, viz., the arachnoid : but
foi* the present let us keep to the pia mater, which dips down
deep into the cerebrum, and besides investing its parts, also
sheathes the spinal marrow and the nerves. This membrane is
beset with innumerable blood-vessels, seeming to consist of
hardly anything else. The end or purpose of it is, not only to
envelop the cerebrum, but also to invest its intimate convolu
tions and folds ; to distribute blood to it ; partly to bring heat,
partly to supply liquid, for nourishing, irrigating, and giving
substance and combination to the parts : also not only to receive
a fine sense, but to derive it inwards along the subtler mem
branes, that those which are subtler stiU may be able to receive
the tremble of the delicate sensations ; which exquisite mem
branes are brought into communication with all sorts of nerves
by the pia mater; for the latter invests these nerves, and is
their grand constituent, because it is their common covering.*
We pass over the division of the cerebrum into hemispheres,
and of the hemispheres into lobes, also the division of the brain
into cerebrum and cerebellum, and into cortical or cineritious
and medullary substances; each of which subdivisions, both
generically and specifically, has its own particular use in convey
ing more and more inwards not only the rude sensations of the
body, but the sensations of aU the senses, tiU they arrive at the
* Respecting the integuments of the cranium, and the dura mater, arachnoid
membrane and pia mater, see Heister, Op. Cit., n. 266— 269.— fTV.J

32 THE INFINITE,
very soul or subtlest parts ; likewise in nourishing, and keeping
in their places, the neighboring and the hard parts ; of all
which not only the parts, but their parts again, contribute aU
their endowments to ensure the nourishment, subsistence, action
and passion of the general system ; in a word, to enable man
to live, to feel ; and so to live and feel, that his subtlest part
shall live in a sense above all others. And in order that all
things may tend to this end, there are, besides other provisions,
certain remarkable cavities in the cerebrum, two of which are in
front; and when these are exposed by the knife, other parts
again come in view, as the septum lucidum, a transparent par-
. tition of medullary substance covered with pia mater, and divid
ing the above cavities or ventricles from each other. Also the
fornix [under the septum lucidum], likewise composed of me
dullary substance. The choroid plexus, a membrane replete
with blood-vessels. The corpora striata, two bodies [cineritious
on the outside, and] through which the cortical or cineritious
substances run in stripes and rays from one end to the other, to
enter and originate the noblest of the marrows, i.e. the medulla
oblongata, which is the source of nerves of all descriptions.
The thalami nervorum opticorum, a pair of bodies, white [on
the outside], and cineritious [internally]. On opening the third
ventricle again, we find several parts deserving of notice ; as the
pineal gland, the nates, the testes, under these the great valve
of the brain, and [the aqueduct of Sylvius], at the posterior
orifice of the latter, the anus, and the iter ad infundibulum,
through which all the four ventricles communicate with each
other. We will not now dwell upon the fourth ventricle, which
is situated between the cerebellum aud the medulla oblongata,
but will content ourselves with observing, that aU these organs
minister to keeping the parts of the cerebrum in the most dis
tinct order of mutual subdivision, so that each is not only
nourished, but enjoys communion with its fellows, and what is
of main importance, superfluous matters are excreted from it,
and prevented from embarrassing its functions.*
We now come to the cerebellum, which is separate from the
cerebrum, and only one-sixth its size, and lies in the occipital
* Respecting this paragraph see Heister, Op. Cit., n. 270. — (TV.J

AND THE PINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 33
region, to be nearer to the involuntary actions of the body, and
consequently nearer to the heart and lungs. The cerebellum
claims our especial regard for its singular lamellated composition
of parallel and circular portions, which terminate in the vermi
form processes, anterior and posterior. It is composed, however,
of the same cortical and medullary substances as the cerebrum,
although these constituents are varied in their proportions in
the cerebellum^ and their relative situation is different. The
spectator may also justly be amazed when he views its lobules
separately, and contemplates the position of the medullary por
tions in their interior ; likewise when he sees the peduncles of
the cerebellum, one of which forms the great valve of the brain ;
a second, the annular protuberance [of Willis, or the pons
Varolii], while the third descends to the medulla of the nerves,
or as it is commonly termed, the spinal marrow. And his
amazement may be the more when he considers, that whatever
is effected in the body by the ministration of the cerebellum, its
near neighbor the cerebrum knows hardly anything about ; and
yet that the cerebellum knows all that the cerebrum does. For
which reason, whatever the former accomplishes in the body, is
termed involuntary, implying that there was no antecedent per
ception of the object before it was realized in act. We have
instances of this in the motion of the heart, in that of several
muscles and nerves in the body, as well as in innumerable other
effects.* But let us revert to the cerebrum, and note the medulla
oblongata. This arises from the corpora striata, and running
back towards the occiput, joins in contiguous relations with the
medulla spinalis, whereby it becomes the common parent and
nurse of all the nerves wheresoever situate in the body ; likewise
of all the nerves of the senses ; that is to say, of sight, hearing,
taste, and smell; on which account indeed all the sensorial
nerves enter it and end in it. Moreover it is of medullary sub
stance externally, and contains [some little] cortical [or cine
ritious] substance within, in which respects it is the inverse of
other parts in the cerebrum. f But how aU the sensations, and
* Respecting the cerebellum, see Op. Cit., n. 2n.—(Tr.)
t Respecting the medulla oblongata, see Ibid., u. 272.— ('TV.) D

34 THE INFINITE,
likewise all the ideas and operations of the soul, are concen
trated in this organ, and how it is the fountain-head of aU the
senses, however fine or gross, — these are points that we have to
shew in another place. And as the spinal marrow is connected
by contiguity to the medulla oblongata, we have also to consider
how the former runs down the back in the bony canal formed
by the vertebrae ; how it is invested by tunics and membranes ;
how it has communication within and without with those of the
cerebrum; whereby whatever is done in the body is at once
conveyed to the cerebrum, and by it felt, and then referred to
the soul, and expanded into will. And as the spinal marrow
performs this grand office for the body, it is protected by a
chine of bones consisting of twenty-four vertebrse [and the
sacrum] ; by a most robust ligamentary membrane, which binds
the vertebrae together ; by the dura mater, the arachnoid mem
brane, and the pia mater, which follows the nerves through all
their subdivisions : and it sends forth transversely into the body,
for the performance of various functions, from thirty to thirty-
two pairs of nerves, which thereafter split into branches and
twigs the most diverse, and are ultimately expended in exqui
sitely smaU corpuscules of lamellar structure, or else in the
tunics of the body.*
Let us also briefiy review the points in the anatomy of the
eye,t and see the wonders of nature working in combination
with a thousand parts, for the single end of producing sight.
We will here say little of the eyelids, eyelashes, palpebral mus
cles, sebaceous glands, caruncula lacrymalis, membrana semi
lunaris, puncta lacrymalia, lacrymal gland, [the muscles of the
eyes], the fat, and many other parts, which contribute to the
motion, nutrition and support of the organ, and hold and keep
it in situ, to ensure the uninterrupted peribi-mance of its func
tions. In dwelling, however, on the other point, viz., the me
chanism of vision or the sense of sight, and not of its instru
ment, the eye, we have to consider the various tunics of the eye ;
the tunica albuginea or adnata, which is freely supplied with
vessels ; the transparent cornea, which is [convex, and] divisible

* Respecting the spinal marrow, see Op. Cit., n. 274.— fTV.;
t Respecting the eye, see Ibid., n. 276.— CTr.)

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 35
into various layers ; the sclerotica, which is a hard and opaque
coat, extending from the cornea to the optic nerve ; the choroid
coat, which abounds in distinct vessels, and is black in color ;
the uvea, or anterior portion of the choroid, which may be seen
through the cornea, is of a convex shape, and presents again
several points for observation ; as for example, an anterior
colored surface, named the iris ; also the pupil situated nearly
in the middle of the iris, and which admits of contraction and
dUatation : again, the posterior surface, black ; on which, when
the black portion is cleared away, we see the sphincter of the
pupil, the ciliary fibres or processes, and the ciliary ligament,
the circulus arteriosus and venosus ; and certain black Unes run
ning between the cUiary processes and the ciUary ligament.
Then we have the retina, a very delicate, glistening tunic, of a
peculiar mucous texture, whither in the first instance all vision,
or aU the organs of vision, centre or tend, thither inclining and
conveying the rays, which are afterwards carried on by the optic
nerve towards the anterior and inner parts of the cerebrum ; the
retina seeming to be the receiving chamber for the rays, as
being the expansion of the optic nerve. In all these details we
perceive a peculiar mechanism, analogous to that of the motions
in the particles of ether ; and an admirable harmony of all the
parts, whereby the several motions received are variously con
centrated in, or conveyed to, the retina, which expands upon
the optic nerves, that in their turn run through the cerebrum
towards the meduUa oblongata, and plunge thereinto, in conse
quence of which the remaining stages of the progress lie beyond
our senses. And in order that the eye, as an organ, and the
parts of the eye, may maintain the natural and mechanical posi
tion that will constantly fit them for receiving the modulations
of the ether, humors or liquids are supplied which provide for
the expansion of the tunics, and at the same time are pervious
to the rays, and in no way hinder the transmission of Ught.
Thus we have the aqueous or albugineous humor, in which the
uvea floats freely ; also vessels by which this humor is continu
aUy renewed, and provided in just quantity and of proper
quality. Then there is the vitreous humor, extremely pellucid,
fllhng the posterior portion of the eye as far as the retina, to
which it is contiguous throughout on the back part ; and with-
D 2

36 THE INFINITE,
out which the retina would get too dry, and neither be duly ex
panded, nor have any power of receiving the motions that are
passing inwards. Furthermore, there is the crystaUine humor
or lens, of a denser structure than the other humors, and en
closed by a tunic within a depression in the vitreous humor ;
this lens is suspended freely [by the ciUary Ugament] between
the aqueous and ritreous humors, [just behind the pupil] ; its
mobility being thus secured ; and it is composed of a number of
pellucid, vascular lameUae, [after the manner of an onion with
its skins]. The crystalline and vitreous substances are sur
rounded by a fine vascular tunic, which by enclosing the lens in
the bosom of the vitreous humor, tends to protect and preserve
it. We shall not now dwell upon the minute arteries and veins
that enter into the organization of the eye in so wonderful a
manner ; or upon the nerves ; as for instance the optics, which
running back from the retina plunge into the medulla oblon
gata; and those other nerves whose office it is to preside over
the motions of the whole organ, both in general, and in parti
cular; or upon the muscles. The result of our considerations
is, that we now see how all the parts one by one conspire to
make the whole, i.e. the eye, a fit organ and instrument for re
ceiving the modifications of ether or light, and a means of sen
sation ; which exists not at all in the eye, but in the cerebrum,
and in those little membranes where the true representation of
the object takes place; of aU which subjects we shall treat in
detail on another occasion. The eye of itself is an organ desti
tute of sense, for sense consists in the inner parts ; in the other
end ; that is to say, above all, in the soul.
But let us confine our attention to a single organ ; for there
is not an organ in the animal body but if examined specifically
and particularly wiU afford infinite grounds of amazement ; at
the manner, for example, in which one part joins vrith another,
in which one part moves another; one part determines the
shape of another; holds another in its place, preserves and
nourishes it ; the least in this way ministering to the greatest,
the invisible to the visible ; and all conspiring to one end, to
enable man either to see, or hear, or enjoy some other sense ;
and all collectively, or the whole, to empower him to lead an
active bodily life, and to be a rational creature ; which results

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 37
themselves conspire to the primary end of creation. Let us
dwell then, as we before said, upon the anatomy of a single
organ, which shall be the Ear, and let us see whether it alone be
not sufficient to transport us with astonishment ; and afterwards
let us conclude what our astonishment would be if we entered
upon the anatomy and examination of the remaining structures.
Hearing is the principal organ or instrument of the soul ; for by
hearing we are educated, and taught to perceive; by hearing
the sciences are formed and imprinted on the memory, after
which the soul can call them forth distinctly one by oUe as it
requires them, and make the human being rational. And this
being the end, therefore the principal parts of the organ of
hearing, as the semicircular canals, the cochlea, and the ossicula
auditus, are nearly of the same dimension and size in the infant
as in the adult, and neither grow, nor undergo adaptation and
remodelling by habit and exercise, like other organs. The
auricle or external ear, including the concha and meatus audi-
torius [externus], is so shapen, that every vibration of the air
is collected from all sides, and nicely directed to the membrana
tympani. Hence the auricle is cartilaginous ; for were it osse
ous, or too hard, it would reflect the vibrations; and were it
fleshy, or too soft, it would yield to, and absorb them; whUe
as it is, it can always regain its form and position, however bent
it may have been, and always assume that figure which best
accommodates it for catching sounds. To ensure this result, it
has two or three muscles ; one lying upon the temporal muscle ;
a second, consisting of five or six fleshy fibres, arising from the
upper and anterior part of the mastoid process, and terminating
about the middle of the concha. And though these muscles
are very small and not very active in man, yet they keep the
ear in situ in a state of tension'; for indeed it is not necessary
that man should have the power which animals have of pricking
up the ears. The human ear is kept in that position which en
ables it to take up and drink in most fully all vibrations, from
whatever corner and direction they come, whether from above,
or below, or with whatever degree of obliquity. This would be
impossible if the ear were not reflected as it is, and if it did not
lie back on the temporal bones, but were conical, Uke the ears
of animals. At present we need say little of the nervous mem-

38 THE INFINITE,
brane of the auricle, which is immediately adherent to the car-
tUage, and helps to keep it in its place ; or of the thin cuticle on
the squamous portion, which serves as an integument to the ear
in common with the rest of the body, and on account of its su
perior deUcacy in this part is eminently adapted to receive the
vibrations of the air. Nor need we dwell at any length on the
blood-vessels ; i.e. the arteries, arising from the external carotid,
and the veins, from the jugular, which the ear receives both on
its outer and inner parts. It may however be mentioned, that
the branches of the carotid, after having suppUed the face,
ascend to the internal and external ear ; and that corresponding
veins accompany them : in consequence of which, a contiguity
reigns, in respect to heat and fluid, both through the ear, and
throughout the face, as well as through the inner membranes
and meninges of the brain. The blood-vessels keep all the
tunics warm and tense, adapted for whatever motions arise, and
presently nourished, and perpetually capable of being nourished,
by the blood. The external ear is insulcate, and folded upon
itself, and we notice in it the pinna, or upper part, the heUx
and antihelix, tragus and antitragus; also the lobulus, which
hangs at the bottom, and is softer than the rest of the auricle.
Then we have the [scapha and] concha ; to which, according to
some anatomists [i.e. Valsalva], are to be added certain seba
ceous glands or cutaneous foUicles. AU these parts are formed
with the intention, that whatever vibration reaches the ear, may
be carried distinctly towards the concha in the stream of a pecu
liar spiral curve, and so, by an uninterrupted succession of
moments and degrees, along the meatus auditorius externus,
towards the tympanum ; whither all the spiral cavities and pas
sages without exception tend. And if any superfluous accom
paniment arises in the course of the vibration, it has a means of
passing off between the tragus and the antitragus. Or if the
sound should reach the concha immediately, and be reflected,
yet even in this case, being reflected upon parts which serve as
so many reverberating tongues, it will all be taken up, and con
veyed mediately towards the meatus auditorius, and thus none
of it will be lost ; but its course wUl be determined by the sides
of the ear, following which it will creep and skirt, and be guided
to the membrana tympani by all the walls and borders of the

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 39
organ. We will not now dwell upon the various points that we
find in the meatus, all of which have their uses ; thus the mea
tus is partly cartUaginous and partly osseous ; its course is tor
tuous and oblique, in a forward direction ; it is made up of as
it were broken cartilages, covered with an elastic tunic ; on the
convex part of the membrane lining it internally, and which is
continuous with the cutis, there are innumerable small yellowish
glands, that secrete a cerumen of the same color, and of a bitter
taste ; besides which there are hairs in the meatus, and several
other contrivances. Let us, however, address ourselves to the
membrana tympani, which we find to be [eUiptical] ; not com
pletely expanded or flat, but convex ;* not placed perpendicu
larly, but very obliquely [inwards] ; not isolated and free, but
united to the maUeus ; not tense, but rather loose or lax, so as
the better to enable it to receive articulate sounds, and transmit
them onwards. The handle or manubrium of the maUeus is
attached to the membrana tympani from the upper border to
the centre, and so governs the membrane as to capacitate and
adapt it for receiving every variety of vibrations and tones;
which it could not do with any distinctness unless the manu
brium were affixed to it in the way of a radius or semidiameter.
But by this arrangement, no tone can set the membrane vibrat
ing anywhere but correspondently to some distance from the
manubrium or radius ; so that as many distances are formed in
the membrane by the instrumentaUty of the manubrium, as
there can be possible varieties in sound. On the other hand,
were the membrana tympani hung in its place without this pro
vision, without the cms of the maUeus giving it relations of dis
tinction, it would scarcely be capable of any distinct vibration
at all. The membrane has also a [nervous] cord [the chorda
tympani] subtendingf it, whereby the soul, as the directive
power, is able to teU whether or not the membrane is properly
tense all round ; and as soon as ever it is too lax or too tense on
any side, this little cord or nerve, (after being duly educated or
* Heister says. Op. Cit., n. 287, " Not flat, but concave." The truth, how
ever, is, that the membrana tympani is concave towards the external ear, and convex
towards the intemal : see the next page, line 13. — (Tr.)
t Swedenborg says, " running through it," but Heister has " subtending it,"
wliich latter we have followed in the text.— f TV. ^

40 THE INFINITE,
informed by use and exercise, and in the end spontaneously, by
habit, without its possessor being aware of the fact,) advises the
soul that so it is, and that a different tension is required. For
this reason the malleus has two muscles ; one that can twist and
more or less bend round the manubrium ; by which action, if
the membrane is more lax or tense on one side than on the
other, a slight flexure at once suffices to equalize the discre
pancy. The other muscle exerts a different action upon the
malleus, and raises the membrane when the tension requires to
be restored below, that is to say, in the lower part of the cii'cle.
In a word, by the action of these muscles, the tympanum may
be evenly tightened or relaxed in all directions, just as the deli
cate nervous cord gives intimation. Of the concave figure of
the tympanum we need say little. Thus much, however, is
obvious, namely, that all vibrations have a natural tendency to
run in circles and curves, as the forms peculiarly suited to for
ward their dissipation. We come now to the three ossicles or
little bones of the ear, viz., the malleus, incus, and stapes. The
first of these, or the malleus, has its articulation, like other
bones ; and this, with the incus ; it also has tendinous attach
ments to other parts, whereby it not merely obeys its own
muscles, but every vibration of the membrana tympani besides.
The incus in its turn is connected to the stapes by what some
consider a fourth ossicle, and term the os orbiculare; this is
situated at the end of the long cms of the incus ; and is received
in a minute depression in the head of the stapes, to which it is
connected by a ligament or tendon.* The stapes has two equal
crura, which are not only grooved or excavated, but naturally
flexible and elastic ; and leans by a circular and similarly exca
vated base or border on the fenestra ovalis. By this admirable
arrangement, each vibration is transmitted from the membrana
tympani to the fenestra ovalis : nay, such is the connexion of
the little bones with each other, that in an instant the identical
effect that was received by the membrane is present in the
fenestra. The stapes moves with every twinkle of motion in
the manubrium of the tympanum; and the flexibility of its
* I have been obliged to modify tliis sentence, as it seems not intelligible in the
original.. — f^TV.^

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 41
claws or hooks nicely adapts it for setting the fenestra ovalis in
corresponding motion. The cavity in the neck or head, and in
the crura and borders of the stapes, whether containing air or
ether, causes the vibration to be felt inwardly likewise ; and in
this way also the vibration admits of being communicated to the
fenestra, and at almost the same instant to the labyrinth. The
fenestra again is tightened, or relaxed, by these modulations,
just according as the stapes is raised or depressed, which enables
it to receive the vibration of the enclosed air, which is ever pre
sent in the grooves of the stapes. And by these means the
vibration is transmitted in many ways from the membrana tym
pani to the fenestra, and all the parts conspire unanimously to
promote its reception. Moreover, a peculiar muscle is attached
to the stapes, to maintain them all in the proper state, and
ensure their equilibrium; and this muscle has the faculty of
adapting itself to the requirements of the muscles already men
tioned as belonging to the malleus. In the labyrinth again we
find innumerable parts well deserving our regard. Thus there
are the semicircular canals, three trumpet or cornet-shaped
tubes, which open by five orifices, (for two of them have a
common aperture) ; and are filled and in a manner distended by
the same elemental fluid as the labyrinth. They are lined in
ternally with a fine membrane, which is connected in aU direc
tions to the bone.* Thus the vibration transmitted thither
from the fenestra ovalis through the membranous parietes of the
labyrinth, and the intermediate air, is in a moment present in
each of the canals, and is fixed and commences in each case at
the appropriate distance from the orifices, and creeps in both
directions towards the same. Moreover, to communicate to the
soul a knowledge of the progress of the vibration, nervous twigs
from Ae portio molUs of the auditory nerve run through all the
canals ; and conscious of the sound articulated, as weU as of the
distance that it moves through, and the velocity of the motion,
they carry it through the whole of the auditory nerve, until it
reaches the cerebrum and medulla oblongata, and in the last
instance, the soul itself. But to give stiU nicer articulateness
* The same remark applies to this sentence also.— ("TV. J

42 THE INFINITE,
to the perception of sound, the cochlea, an organ embracing
the whole mechanism of harmony, is added to the other struc
tures. [This consists of a lamina] winding in a spiral around
a central nucleus or axis [called the modiolus], and which spiral
graduaUy tapers from the base to the apex. Thus there is no
possible sound but may have its proper distance or centre, from
which to begin, and go on to the extremity : for an integral
scale of dimensions is provided. The gradual exaltation of the
sound is also secured, so that in passing from one end to the
other, it is heightened in proportion as it approaches the fenestra
rotunda. With this view, the canal of the cochlea is of different
thickness in different parts, and very thin about the nucleus ;
which capacitates it for receiving all degrees of vibrations.
Furthermore, it is divided from the top to the bottom by a thin
bony and membranous lameUa of a hard and brittle texture ;
and by the attachment of its membranous portion thereto from
the base to the apex, it is the better enabled to vibrate, and the
vibration arrives at the end with greater distinctness. For the
same reasons the cochlea has an aperture leading to the vesti
bule, which ensures community of effect between it and the
semicircular canals. And as hardly any two tones are alike,
but the variety is indefinite, so the cochlea itself presents every
variety, of form, thickness, calibre, and other conditions. Vibra
tions moreover love spiral, circular and hyperboUc curves : and
hence whatever is possible in sound can find its place in this
spiral organ. There are nerves also which pass through the nu
cleus and lamina in numberless parts, and which receive aU the
various sounds ; for there is no sense without nerves, and no
mean to sense in nerves but motion. Hence every vibration in
the cochlea and its membranes, is at once correspondingly felt
in the nerves, which for this reason are spread over the inside
of this organ in so many different situations. And every motion
is the more sensible, since the nervous filaments traverse the
cochlea longitudinally, and run towards the fenestra rotunda,
near which the nerve itself enters. Which seems to indicate,
that as the vibration courses along the filaments, it passes gra
dually from the thinner to the thicker portions, so as to be
ultimately taken up and conveyed with all the distinctness pos-

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 43
sible, and with the greatest amount of sensation, by the whole
auditory nerve.*
We see from the foregoing description what a peculiar me
chanism of nature there is for the simple purpose of conveying
inwards the vibrations of the air, and of proffering them to the
soul when aught that is rational is involved in the sound ; such
involution being effected by the articulation and vocal expres
sions of speech, and the higher forms of rationaUty being pro
duced or expressed by new combinations of the same. We see,
I repeat, not only the mechanism itself, but all its numerous
parts tending to one and the same end, to enable man to hear,
to perceive the delights of this world in a reasonable manner,
so as to teach him that his soul is his Uving part, that he may
have the wisdom to mingle the delights of the world with the
deUghts of the soul ; and the delights of the soul with other
delights from a purer, finer or subtler world ; and at last, with
God, in whom, as the one only end, all must therefore termi
nate. But on these subjects we shall treat more properly in a
subsequent part of the work.
.„ . -, ., If we were anxious at present to extend this
All parts Of the _ J^
body tend to their Subject further, we might describe all parts of
own proper ends. ^^^ ^^^^^ following up the Organ of hearing
with those of smeU and taste, and proceeding afterwards to the
heart, the lungs, and a thousand other parts, and parts of parts.
For the reader will here observe that they all conspire to one
end ; i.e. the lesser parts to their end, that the larger may ob
tain theirs ; the lesser still to theirs, and the least, to theirs :
therefore all these least parts conspire through the larger and
larger ; in other words, they all conspire separately and jointly,
to the common end, which is that of the whole. In this way
* The anatomical facts mentioned in this paragraph are for the most part not bor
rowed from Heister's work, but probably from some other anatomist. Among the
author's manuscripts there are two treatises on the Ear and the Sense of Hearing ;
one in 29 pages folio, the other in 24. There is also a tliird MS. on the Ear, but
which consists only of certain excerpts from J. S. Cassebohm's work, Tractatus VI.
de Aure Humana, Halae, 1735.
There are also two treatises on the Eye and the Sense of Sight ; one in 40 pages
folio, the other in 39.
For further particulars respecting all these MSS., the reader is referred to Dr.
Svedbom's Memoir inserted in the Animal Kingdom, Vol. II., p. 653 — 658.— fTV.J

44 THE INFINITE,
there is nothing in the human body but conspires to the end for
which man was created; which is, the enjoyment of worldly
delights ; and thereby the reference of human delights to the
soul and its reason, and their unison with the delights of the
soul ; the making of mundane delights rational ; the qualification
of rational delights until they derive their essence, — their de
Ughts, — from a higher source ; finally, their termination in
divine delights, in which the absolute, genuine and finest sense
of aU delights consists ; for the centre and the end of them is
not included in the centre or end wherein the soul abides. Thus
if delights are to be true, they can only terminate in the infi
nite, in doing which there is pleasure the most perfect. All the
members of the body, all their parts, and parts of parts, all
their very least forms, conspire, I say, to this end ; aU there
fore tend, as means, and means to means, to no other than
that total and general end for which man was created and intro
duced into the world.
Now all these provisions could not exist by accident, although
they may have existed, and may exist, naturally. For we have
ocular demonstration of means tending to one end ; of a consent
and harmony of all things and parts, and mainly of the least
parts, whereby they tend in a manner to their proper centre ;
and we see also that they simply look on themselves as means
to the common end. And could we penetrate deeper, and per
ceive the finer parts, — those we mean that influence the least
and flrst constituents of the man, — conspiring to their end, we
should recognize in them a still purer and more perfect aspira
tion to the same common end ; and in the very least of aU we
should find the primary ground and principle of power, whereby
all the parts tend thereto. In this way then we may reckon aU
the rest as effects and consequences conspiring to a certain end,
which begins in the least or minimum, and in which, of neces
sity, all these things must be involved; proving that all the
means reaching to the end, were concentrated, included, and
consequently present in the natural minimum. We also see
that the means cannot by possibUity attain this end, unless
causes, contingencies and necessities, innumerable and innu
merable, both mechanical and physical, concurred to their com
bination in this distinctive manner, to the exclusion of aU others.

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 45
Should the reader wish then to recognize nature as the author
of the universe and of man, he wiU at aU events agree with me,
that all those things which afterwards existed in actuality, were
[in potency] in the minimum itself; and this, both in order
that contingencies might thus exist, and that all intermediate
causes might conspire to the precise end in view. It is clear
they could not conspire by accident. Accident recognizes causes,
although causes apart from intelligence, whereby such combina
tion takes place ; wherebj'- parts or causes conspire simultaneously
and successively to one end ; particularly where the conspiring
causes are indefinite in number. To bring the matter home let
us suppose that there are only a thousand causes. If chance or
accident governed them aU, and the whole thousand arrived at
the end, and this end was of such a character, that all, in a way
truly stupendous, stood related to the first and last cause, and
to the Infinite, — the first and last relations of ends thereby in
volving somewhat of infinity ; — then, I say, there would be a
thousand chances ; and for these thousand chances to eventuate
thus, would be against all reason to suppose ; that is to say, if
chance be chance, and if chances arise from causes.
We will still assume the same argument, and suppose that
there are chances, and also innumerable circumstances to pro
duce them ; there being therefore an adequate number of
circumstances to account for the existence of all the chances.
Yet review the lineage and series of chances ; review their
direction to a single end. Are we not forced to acknowledge
here an immensity over and above them ? Are we not forced
to admit a directing, an applying agent, — a power by which all
the elements of the series proceed from the beginning and
arrive at the end in a given order ? Are we not bound to admit
what amounts to infinity? A somewhat whose existence and
nature alike we are at once unable to understand and bound to
acknowledge. If therefore all things in nature be means to this end, and
if there be mechanical and physical necessities conspiring to it,
then the philosopher cannot do less than wonder at the central
cause of such necessities and causes with their manifoldly suc
cessive degrees of efficiency : he cannot but see all things con
centrated in his philosophical minimum ; whence he may natu-

46 THE INFINITE,
raUy conclude from real effects, by way of the senses, imagina
tion, perception, and the soul, that there lay something in the
first entity that could proceed from no other ground than a
cause in the infinite. Thus by effects and the senses, and by
visible or sensible nature, we are better and more clearly led to
the acknowledgment of the infinite, than by the other reasons
or methods of the soul. And indeed senses were given us, and
a rational soul superadded to them, precisely that, in the natural
state, we might be conducted sensually to an acknowledgment
of deity in the infinite. § VI.
We have now to shew in conclusion, that the infinite is the
cause of the finite, and the infinite God, the builder of the
universe. This comes in the last place, because it appeals partly
on self-evidence, or springs from the human soul, and comes
partly as a consequence from the arguments adduced above.
There is in fact a tacit consent, or a tacit conclusion of the soul,
to the being as weU as to the infinity of God. This is dictated,
There is a tacit I Say, partly by the soul in its own free essence,
consent of human partly by the soul as instructed and advised by
souls as to the exist- ... i i /y. t .
ence of an infinite the diverse innumerable effects presented m the
^"^^ world. Not unhke reason in the soul, which
comes partly from the soul and partly from the body, although
we do not know whence it comes, because we do not know the
state of the soul. Nor unlike the involuntary and congenital
actions that take place in the body, which proceed spontaneously
•without the body being aware of them ; such for instance as the
innumerable internal motions of the frame, of the senses, the
muscles, the heart, the fluids ; or such as the issue or procession
of the efficient causes designed to set the muscles in motion at
the will of the soul, or in obedience to predetermined conclusions.
The body is indeed unaware of the ground from which these
and simUar actions come, and whether they are determined to
motion by any cause, or none ; (although the senses see that
the motion exists, and perceive that it is constant ;) and hence
they appear to originate spontaneously, and without the partici
pation of the body. And there are numberless other pheno-

AND THE PINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 47
mena whose effects we know, but cannot explain the cause ; for
example, harmonies of many kinds, where natural perfection is
almost attained, which arrest us at once, surprize us into praise,
raise smiles of deUght whenever we see or hear them ; and yet
of their cause we may be said to be ignorant ; although they
have a cause, at least in a perfection and harmony either truly
natural, or that corresponds with the perfection and harmony of
our individual nature. We give these illustrations simply in the
way of comparison, to shew that there are many things in our
own organization that we derive from a source different from
either the soul or its harmonic connexion with the body ; many
things, therefore, which seem to happen spontaneously. And
so also it may be with that tacit consent and feeling of our souls,
which dictates to us the existence and infinity of God.
But it is scarcely philosophical to derive from the soul a
spontaneity corresponding in character with the involuntary
power in the body, or with the harmony or perfection existing
in things and proportions. And yet it cannot be denied, that
there is that in man as man, provided he enjoy the use of reason,
which acknowledges an omnipotent God, an omnipresent and
all-provident Deity ; it seems therefore to be innate, and to be
a power or action of reason, when not on the one hand troubled
too much by its own ideas, nor on the other hand too destitute
of aU cultivation and development. But we care not whether
it be spontaneous, or the contrary, if it be admitted, that there
is no one Uving, provided he be not over or under rational, but
acknowledges the existence of a deity, however ignorant he
may be of the divine nature. Hence it is that after man has
exerted his powers and whetted his reason to find out this
nature, he falls into strange darkness and ideal conclusions.
He knows indeed that there is a Deity ; that there is an omni
potence ; but he has been unsuccessful in eliciting the nature of
either from any dictates of reason. Much as the philosophers
themselves, who after probing the subject with unceasing per
severance, have stiU been unable to approach by reasonings fo
the TO quale in God ; and therefore they have fancied a to quale
coincident in qualities with nature. And thus the source of
error among the idolatrous vulgar is identical with its source
among those phUosophers who make an idol of nature: the

48 THE INFINITE,
only difference being what there is between the gross and the
subtle, between the more and less plausible, between reason Uttle
developed and reason over developed.
However that we may not state for certain what is not per
haps very clearly accordant with reason and philosophy, nor
prematurely take up conclusions without previous demonstration,
we wUl for a time relinquish the point, and agree with those
who declare that the acknowledgment of God is not sponta
neous, but is an effect of the soul admiring the universe, or
amazed at the wonders of nature ; or perhaps ignorant of the
source from which they spring. Still the end is the same ; for
still we admit a tacit consent of human souls to the existence of
God. At the least this feeling and consent of our souls arises
from visible nature, in which dirine effects exist, wherein every
part summons us to admire, and to acknowledge that it issues
from an infinite fountain. From our admiration of the parts
and the whole, and from our amazement at everything that
sense perceives, and that reason, knowing not the cause, yet
unknowing admires, the soul deduces and concludes, whether
by its own action, and tacitly, or by reasoning, and not tacitly,
that a divinity exists. After which it follows spontaneously, if
we conclude in favor of this divine principle, that at least it has
the power to bring this, as well as that, to pass ; and thus
worship exists. § VII.
Objection : Was But here it is probable that some will inter-
"«^^:ttE'. rupt our argument, by declaring that we have
in the derivatives ? no right to reason about God in any such
a priori manner, or from any principles of the kind, but that
all we have to do is simply to proclaim, without any ratiocina
tion, that God is the provider of all contingent circumstances ;
that now and ever he is as provident as he was at the very crea
tion of the world ; that he did not exhaust the whole of his
wisdom, or spend the entire force of his providence, in his
original creation ; but that these remain still infinite in the
provision and government of causes and worldly things accord
ing as he pleases, in conformity with what he sees ought to be ;

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 49
shewing that he always expects the issue before he wUls it into
existence. Likewise that God is present to every contingent
circumstance in succession, as at the day when the machine of
the world, and the bodily machine of the soul, or the human
frame, , were first constructed : and that now, as ever, his state
is, that at his good pleasure, he can either change, or not
change, all things, agreeably to the causes and effects that he
sees in operation. There are, we know, great numbers of per
sons who think this line of reasoning preferable, because thereby
we have the divine omnipotence manifest in time, and know
that at all times it will provide for human iaffairs, accompanying
them through all their windings and changes. And especially
do those appear anxious to urge this view of the subject, who
cherish a finite conception of God, and cannot refrain from
likening his power and will to those of some earthly potentate,
who can issue his mandates either in obedience to causes and
laws, or the contrary ; or frame new laws at will, and impose
them on human action ; and afterwards either modify or reverse
them. Such sentiments are peculiarly grateful to all who fancy
themselves to be the near objects of regard to the Infinite, and
his favored friends ; and deem therefore that they can win him
to their side, to work their wiU, and to enable them to govern
human souls and societies under a pretext of divine authority.
But even this opinion is in no way contrary to mine, pro
vided its abettors are not so gross as to think that it pleases God
to be changing daily, and constantly framing new designs for
every new conjuncture of circumstances; that is to say, to be
continually modifying his plan at the bidding of events ; so that
what he would do to-day, he would not do to-morrow, because
of the altered condition of things ; or so that his will and
decision would depend upon a succession of mutable causes,
as is the case in finite man. In these respects I grant whatever
can be granted with reason, if on the other hand you wUl grant
me this, — that God is infinite. And surely you neither can nor
dare deny it. If he is infinite, then all things were present to
him that are future to us. For can anything be predicated of
the infinite in a finite sense ? Is not that then present in him
which is successive or future in time ? If in his infinity he has
foreseen all things, has he not also provided all things ? In the

50 THE INFINITE,
Infinite, providence cannot be distinguished from previdence.
If the providence foUowed the previdence, what would become
of the infinity? If he, the Infinite, operated and provided
successively and in time, with a constant substitution of new
acts according to events, and if he must wait for the events
before he knew what they would be, or whether they would
happen, or not, — if this were the case, we again say, what
would become of his infinity ? If providence is successive, like
time, where is the infinite? Succession itself is an implied
condition of the finite ? Seeing therefore that God is infinite,
why should we seek to Umit him by time, chance, or any other
predicament whatever that would necessarily involve the exist
ence of finiteness in his essence? If all things are realized
simultaneously that will ever be realized in time, is not the infi
nite manifested here ? If we admit that his foresight and pro
vidence are instantaneous and coincident, is not this identical
with declaring that he foresaw and provided in time ? In respect
to us it is assuredly so ; for all things appear finite and suc
cessive to those who are finite, and live in time. Therefore
what happens after a finite manner, and in time, is relative to
us ; but is not similarly relative to the Infinite. We agree then
thus far, that previdence and providence do exist ; but we differ
here, that in my opinion these are infinite ; while according to
the other opinion, somewhat of the finite is involved in the
infinite. Therefore perhaps the whole discrepancy is a matter
of words and not of understanding. But if there are any who
think they have something to lose in the decision, because
according to our principles they wiU not be enabled to bend the
infinite to their own particular interests, or to claim from the
common people that obedience which is due to God — if there are
any such, it is not our intention to reason with them. It is too
probable that worldly things, and not divine, are uppermost in
their thoughts. Perhaps they would have the vulgar believe,
that God by his own immediate agency, interposes the clouds
between our eyes and the sun ; that he successively rouses the
tempest, sends down the rain, and paints the rainbow in the
sky : that at one time he frames our members in the womb ; at
another, breathes the soul into the body ; and so forth. Perhaps
in a word they mean to teach, that God is justly represented

AND THE PINAL CAUSE OP CREATION. 51
under the image of a finite man, who would operate immediately,
or by modes immediately proceeding from himself, on the grosser
circumstances, and lowest parts, of the sphere of nature. And
so they would see in God the proximate cause of all things.
However, as all things are the effects of his divine providence,
the only question at present is of time; whether one after
another they are created immediately ; or whether they were aU
foreseen and provided at once ? The latter predication involves
the infinite ; the former, the finite. Choose then whichever of
these opinions seems most consistent with the Divine Essence.
We leave the matter entirely to the decision of the reader.

§ VIII.
The reasonings of "^^ are now in a condition for understanding
some philosophers how it is that the philosophers, ever since the
concerning o . time of Aristotlc, have racked their ingenuity
in the attempt to express and represent to themselves and the
philosophical world the nature and quaUties of God. They all,
as we said before, have begun by investigating these. In truth,
mankind is always desirous to imagine the qualities of God ; to
bring him within the bounds of reason and rational ideas ; and
to finite and fix him in something, by something, or to some
thing. For this reason the above investigation has all along
been the issue and offspring of reason and philosophy. And
though the phUosophers have heard that he is infinite, yet on
behalf of poor reason, which is always bounded by finite limits,
they imagine the infinite as finite ; being unable to perceive at
all apart from the finite. We now therefore see why reason has
faUed, and that the cause is the same in the vulgar as in the
learned. For the greatest master of learning can no better
imagine what the infinite is, than the merest vulgar or the
least informed of the community. Thus if we say that God is
like an idol, or a man ; or if we say that he is like the least or
the greatest finite, it all amounts to the same thing ; since there
is no proportion between the infinite and the finite : wherefore
it is as gross to say, that God is like the least or greatest finite,
or that the least or greatest finite is God, as to say that the idol
E 2

52 THE INFINITE,
or image is like God, or that God dweUs in the idol : or with
the ancients, that this or that man is, or will be, a God.
Finitely speaking the one simile is grosser than the other ; but
before God, as being infinite, both are equally gross. No finite
difference makes any difference at all in the infinite, in proportion
to which all finite differences are permanently the same ; because
there is no ratio, either of likeness, or unUkeness, between in
finite and finite. The root and cause of all such perceptions as
the above, is one and the same ; viz., the very inquiry into the
quality of the infinite, and the fact that when the mind could
advance no further, it admired its last result, and accordingly
took it for God ; seeking its God from the ground of mere ad
miration, at the point where reason ceases, and thought itself
is forced to stop. And hence it was that in former ages, when
the simple-minded multitude greatly honored a leader, they at
once deified him, and erected altars at which they paid him
divine worship as their tutelar god. And when they saw any
idol, to which they thought they could ascribe events that ex
cited their wonder; particularly if miracles were alleged, and
the admiration of the miracle prevented the perception of the
cause ; in this case they were lost in amazement ; and conse
quently the idol or image became their god. Some have fancied
the universe to be God, from seeing and conceiving in it such
great and vast resources, which seem to transcend both sense
and perception ; or else from the circumstance, that the more
they thought, the less did it seem possible to assign any Umits
in this sphere. On these grounds they deified the universe in
its largest sense ; and the more readily as their admiration for
the whole was filled and iUustrated by their knowledge of the
astounding marvels and harmonies, of situation, figure and
motion, which are extant in our own particular world. Others
again deified the minimal or atomic world; from the same
cause as before; viz., from admiration or ignorance of its pro
perties ; especially as under the operation of reason the minimum
seems more and more to approach the indefinite, or to exceed
the Umits of conception. Others indeed believed in the infinity
of God, and yet for the sake of representing his qualities to
their own imaginations, they at the same time thought that he
had finited himself, or had made himself finite, and so had

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 53
created the world. And if these had held that aU which there
is in the natural sphere proceeds from an infinite cause, or from
the infinite, and consequently in this respect is a divine work,
they would not have been far from the truth : but the reverse
if they concluded that the finite or nature is God, and that all
things stand in nature's disposal ; which becomes identical with
the worship of nature. Others again thought that God is in
such sense all in all, that the actual aU of the finite universe is
God ; that we men Ukewise, as parts of the universe, are parts
of God ; according to which, whatever there is in the world is
God : which amounts precisely to the same as the beUef that
universal nature is God ; for it is like the former opinion, and
springs from a similar ground. Others, to avoid all dissension,
say that God is a spirit, but an infinite one, and that angels and
human souls are spirits, but finite. Yet it must be confessed
that even this is an incompetent statement. For probably when
they talk of an infinite spirit, and a finite spirit, some Ukeness
is impUed between these spirits, or between the finite and the
infinite, although the latter in itself admits of no such likeness.
Or perhaps, as we do not know what finite spirits are, and as
we do not know what the infinite is, it is from ignorance of
both, and from admiration, the offspring of ignorance, that
they wish to institute a paraUel, and to call one the infinite
spirit, the other the finite. Yet on account of the epithet infi
nite, it is all the same whether they choose to call it a spirit, or
an angel, or this, or that, so long as it is not repugnant to the
predication of infinity ; for the conjunction of the infinite with
any of these substantives absorbs whatever is finite, in short the
whole of the other term. It is therefore all the same whether
we say infinite spirit, or simply infinite. For if aught of finite
is involved in the conception of spirit, it becomes intrinsically
nothing in respect to its adjective, the infinite. Thus if you
would iUustrate the qualities of the infinite by likening them to
those of finite spirits, and on this ground would speak of the
infinite spirit, you would fall into the same error with the rest.
For you admit that there is nothing infinite in angels, who are
created beings. Therefore the illustration is not available in
this sense, although it is not without meaning in a different
sense, of which we shall speak presently. And from this ground

54 THE INFINITE,
it is that some have tried, in their way, to reduce the infinite to
particular shapes or forms, Ukening it to a circle, to a triangle,
or to this or the other geometrical figure ; all which springs from
the root we have already indicated ; to wit, that men have chosen
to reason of the quality of the infinite from the analogies of
the finite sphere. They Uken the infinite to a circle, because a
circle has no end; or to a triangle enclosed in a circle, because
it has a trinity of angles. In a word, they have attempted to
perceive the quale or properties of the infinite by ideas framed
upon a geometrical model ; not seeing that quaUty is supposed
in all geometrical entities, and that form cannot exist without
extension. If we take the circle, this has necessarily a centre,
and an area ; which again imply angles, parts, and succession
from point to point, constituting a line ; or to say the least we
have a conception of aU these attributes in the circle ; and in
consequence we regard it as a natural entity, because it is ana
logous to a geometrical one : and the same remarks apply to the
triangle. All enquirers then of aU descriptions who have suf
fered their reason to seduce them, have tried to search out God
by comparisons derived from the finite sphere, and so have fallen
into error, and formed one idol or another to represent their
Deity ; and have all in this way become idolaters.
But as some have seen by the Ught of reason that God is
not finite : that neither the universe, nor the maximum or
minimum thereof is God, inasmuch as it is natural and finite,
so they carried reason to a new height, and attempted to make
out that the natural universe is not finite but infinite ; that the
heavens are illimitable and unending ; that the world is eternal
and everlasting ; which was the belief of Aristotle and certain
of his followers, who fancied that in this way they had found a
God who was both infinite and finite. For example, they saw
that the universe was natural, and to human senses, finite ; but
they thought that if they took away from it aU its Umits and
boundaries, or supposed it to be circular, or could in any way
ideally imagine it to be without end, they would thereby attain
a knowledge of the infinite ; which, in short, they regarded as
nature without end, and as time without beginning. When
they perceived that time involves succession, and is finited or
distinguished by moments, to reduce it to the conception of the

AND THE PINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 55
infinite, they declared the world to be eternal, time to be eternal.
But had they chosen to reason deeper, they would have per
ceived that the one of these terms is contradictory to the other.
If they recognize parts in the universe, they thereby recognize
mere finites as composing it. If they recognize moments in
time, they thereby recognize mere finites. How can this finite
thing be infinite ? How can it be without end ? without begin
ning ? How in any way can it have been produced without a
cause ? How without a beginning ? How can so vast a uni
verse be without boundaries ? Each part has Umits ; why not
the whole ? However desirous you may be to conceive the finite
without boundaries, you must answer these questions, after
whatever anxious thought you will, by admitting that the uni
verse cannot but have boundaries. Yea we add, that though
you proceed on and on, through myriads of myriads of worlds,
you still must come to an end : and as the world is finite in its
parts, we may conclude that it is also finite in the whole :
wherefore it cannot be infinite, or without end. Therefore these
philosophers also are deceived, though not so grossly as the
others ; for notwithstanding their hallucination, they continue to
affirm the intrinsic infinity of God; which they attempt to
explain by finite things, making time eternal, the universe
without end, and the finite infinite ; not aware that the con
junction of the finite with the infinite causes the finite term
utterly to disappear, and be reduced to nothing; the infinite
alone remaining, and becoming all. And however they choose
to add or multiply, subtract or divide ; i.e. to perform analogical
operations between the infinite and the finite, stiU the finite
becomes a nonentity, and the infinite alone is left : so that it
is all the same whether they make use of the finite in their cal
culus, or not ; for here the finite has no value, no significance,
may be either present or absent indifferently : and thus the in
finite is infinite, and God is infinite : we cannot express him
otherwise. The infinite is not ^"^^ ^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^pokeu of the infinite and its
to be reckoned as no- qualities as if almost nothing could be predi-
pareT^aJni'tTit cated or conceived of it in a finite sense; as we
is quasi nothing. have shcwn that the reader is entitled to say
that God is infinite in the least sphere, and infinite in the great-

56 THE INFINITE,
est, and that the finite is relatively nothing ; or on the other
hand, that the infinite, to our conceptions, is as nothing to the
least of natural entities, or the natural minimum : so perhaps
he may now be inclined to argue from this, that it is indeed
necessary to assume the infinite, but nevertheless that it is
equal to nothing. For when we multiply, or divide, a finite
number by (0), the former becomes nothing. If we add or
subtract (0), the finite number remains, and (0) can be wanting.
Shewing that according to the previous conception, the infinite
is nothing, because it is in a manner nothing relatively to finite
numbers ; and all the more as there is no likeness between the
two. A number indeed may be so small, so indefinitely little,
as in some sense to equal nothing, and although not really
equivalent to this, yet it has a likeness thereto, and conse
quently it is not infinite. We see this in the calculation of
indefinites, where the differences are so small, that they cannot
be multiplied by constant finites without being annihilated;
and their differences, and differences of differences, cannot even
be conceived. Yet even these are by no means infinite, inasmuch
as they involve a likeness or analogy to finites ; by which as a
proportional we may come to the investigation of quality in
figures and spaces : whUe on the contrary no such analogy is
supposed in the infinite. The mind, therefore, cannot help con
cluding by this process that the infinite and nothing are one
and the same. But, friend, here too you are thinking after a
finite manner. What do you say to the maximum Infinite ? If
you choose to state that God is infinite in the greatest sphere, is
not all proportion with the finite lost thereby? The whole
universe, with all its possible qualities, is yet not a point to the
infinitely great. But can you then conclude that your finite is
nothing, when your very senses and reason dictate that it is
something; and relatively to those senses, vast enough to be
indefinite, especially in the case of the finite universe? We
may therefore logically argue, that the finite is not nothing,
although it be nothing in relation to the infinitely great. Take
the finite universe, and let thought go forth and expatiate over
it, far and wide to the verge of possibility; then let thought
extend beyond it, and conceive to yourself not only this uni
verse, vast as imagination can compass, but an indefinite amount

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 57
of similar universes : surely you cannot conclude, simply because
you can conceive a repetition of universes ad infinitum, that
therefore the universe, or any part of it, is nothing, although
it is nothing relatively to the infinitely great. In the same way
I would have you not confuse yourself, or conceive the infinite
as nothing, merely because when it is represented to you in the
minimal sphere, with relation to the finite, and the analogues
of the finite, it is quasi nothing : for you may say the same of
your finite relatively to the infinite represented in the maximum
sphere. Whence you may conclude, but by no means finitely,
that there does exist an infinite. Moreover the infinite is the
cause of the finite, which it could not be if it did not exist.
No cause can produce an effect, unless the power to produce lie
in it : but that the infinite produced the primordial seeds of
nature, and consequently the world, has been already stated.
Actual NOTHING can furnish us with no cause : nothing comes
of nothing. It follows that the infinite was the cause, and that
whatever is in the cause is infinite. The circumstance of all
contingencies in the finite sphere conspiring so marvellously to
a single end, can proceed from no other ground than a cause
involving an infinitely intelligent being; whence it follows that
there is a preeminent being in the cause, and an infinite intel
ligence in the being. It is clear also that there is a Unk or
nexus between the primitive and the cause, because whatever is
most perfect in the primitive, is infinite in the cause ; the nexus
or Unk, however, is infinite, as we shall explain presently.
Hence we may conclude demonstratively, that such nexus is
possible, but as to its nature or quality, this can never be dis
cerned by analogy in ever so remote a degree. Thus we may be
certain that there are infinite things in the infinite, the nature
and quality of which can never be conceived by the finite. The
conclusion is, that beyond our finite sphere there are verily
infinities, to the knowledge of which it is useless to aspire ; and
which in the infinite are infinitely many, and can be known to
no one but the infinite. In order that these may in some
measure be conceived by the soul introduced through faith into
communion with the infinite, it has pleased God to discover by
revelation much whereby the mind can finitely conceive and ex
press him : not however that finite perceptions or expressions

58 THE INFINITE,
are similar or adequate to him, but only that those made use of
are not repugnant. § IX.
™ . , Having now, by the formal resolution of the
The connexion he- _ o 'J
tween the infinite question of cause, OT the wkencB of things, ob-
and the first finite. ^^^-^^^ ^j^-^ ^^^^0^^ ^^^^g^ ^2., the infinity of
God, so that the human mind is plainly convinced of it ; as also
that God is in the infinite, or himself is infinite ; we will in the
next place foUow the mind in the further enquiries which it
makes as to the how and the wherefore. The infinity which the
mind unhesitatingly ascribes to God, is now no longer assumed
as unknown, but as known. By affirming it, the mind makes
it positive, because it has no more to be sought, but is sought
and found; though stUI indeed, however known and positively
affirmed, the mind remains in the dark as to its quale. But
enough, that this is no longer sought, and no longer dwelt
upon. The mind being disembarrassed of this quest, it is not
surprising that it now desires to go further, and to enquire into
the nexus or connexion between the infinite and the finite, be
tween the cause and the causate. In the course of reasoning,
when the mind acquiesces in a point as no longer doubtful, it
there leaves it, and ceases all attempt to descend into particulars
where it knows that this is impossible. In the present case there
fore it now comes closer and closer in thought to the first finite ;
but before taking hold of it, and determining to explore it, the
mind proposes and ruminates certain middle questions, touching
the actual existence of a nexus, and the possibiUty there is of
discovering the nature and quality of the nexus which subsists
between the cause and the causate, or between the infinite and
the first finite. The phUosopher hopes indeed to detect quality
in the first finite, however he despairs of it in the infinite.
StiU, as we before observed, he assumes the infinite as known
to the extent of affirmation.
When at length he fixes upon the nexus as an object of
mental investigation, he directs his attention at one time to the
infinite, at another to the first finite, hoping to discover the
nexus from the latter, though not from the former ; and stands

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 59
hardly knowing which road to take, between some Ught and
more darkness. And so he hesitates in his course, and asks
whether a certain amount of illustration may not haply be bor
rowed from the finite side. In this way he elicits for his own
mind the various states of the question, rejecting some and
accepting others, until at last he sees one aspect on which he
can dwell and reason.
Perhaps the reader may think that the present point is one
which ought not to be enquired into, but that we ought to rest
satisfied with what we know already. But what if reason does
not rest, and cannot unhesitatingly believe many of the conse
quences which flow from our positions, until this doubt also is
resolved ? What then is to be done ? Must we not enter, with
the phUosopher, into the field of ratiocination ? Shall we not
attempt to clear up the doubt and untie the knot by the aid of
reason? Shall we not strive with all our might to make the
nexus positive as we have already made the infinite positive ?
We have no right to despair of succeeding in this also, after
solving, as we have done, that primary doubt which attached to
the infinite.
In attempting to simplify and unravel the difficulty, it first
occurs to us to enquire, if reason be competent to decide
whether the infinite is the immediate, or whether it is the me
diate, cause of the finite? On pondering this question, and
carefully considering its phUosophical relations, it is evident at
once by all the laws of reason that there can be no mean be
tween the infinite and the primitive. Were there a mean, or a
middle cause, either this cause would be infinite, and therefore
distinct from the first infinite ; which would be contradictory of
the infinite ; (for how could there be two infinites, one the cause
of the other, unless in point of infinity they were one and the
same) : or else it would be finite, and therefore distinct from
our finite, and consequently a finite like the first ; which would
be to multiply entities unnecessarily ; for the question is at pre
sent. Is there a cause intermediate between the infinite and the
primitive ? The suggestion then occurs, whether a middle cause
be possible, partaking at once of the infinite and the finite. But
this is soon rejected when we remember, that any finite what
ever, the least or the greatest, attached to the infinite, would be

60 THE INFINITE,
equivalent to nothing; which proves that the two must be dis
tinct. As it is evident therefore that no intermediate or proxi
mate cause of this double nature is possible, the conclusion
foUows, that the infinite is the immediate cause of the finite or
first simple. And this is the answer to the first question ; so that
it is no longer doubtful that the infinite is the immediate cause
of the primitive or pure simple.
„. , Next the mind goes deeper, and enquires
The primary end ° r ' j
is for the infi- into the nature and quality of the nexus be-
"' *¦ tween the finite and the infinite. It is erident
enough that in point of essence the finite cannot partake of the
infinite, because there is no ratio or relation between the two.
Nevertheless the mind desiderates some nexus between the infi
nite and the finite, because the one is the cause, the other, the
causate ; and if the one depends on the other in the way of
causate and cause, there must be a nexus between them, or a
principle derived from the cause in the causate, — a principle to
which the causate owes everthing. Therefore the mind assum es
that there is a nexus; and this, not merely as regards existence,
but also as regards essence. For unless the essence and its
actuaUty were presently and continually dependent upon the
cause, there could be no essence or actuality in the first finite ;
but as it is evident that there are both, so the mind will search
for the nexus by way of analogy. Without a nexus the finite
could neither exist nor subsist. Unless the principles in the
first simple were related to the infinite by a nexus of some kind,
they would evidently be annihilated at once, and dissipated out
right; and the whole universe would perish with them. On
these grounds the mind perceives that a nexus must exist ; not
indeed a perceptible, proportional, or natural nexus, or one
which partakes of the finite : but still plainly a nexus ; and it is
equally evident, as it was before when we were speaking of the
infinite, that it is impossible to know the nature of the nexus,
because it must be absolutely infinite : although notwithstanding
its existence is not the less clear. By consequence the mind ac
knowledges a something which it understands no better than it
understands the infinite. We cannot in fact deny the nexus with
out at once destroying the finite, which derives from the nexus
its very existence and subsistence, because its cause. Nor yet

AND THE PINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 61
can we affirm that the nexus is perceptible, for it certainly is not
perceptible in any natural or rational way. The conclusion then
is, that there is undoubtedly a nexus, but that this nexus is infi
nite. The nexus is affirmed, but it is not known. We declare
its positive existence, but pretend to no knowledge of its qua
lities. Here, and thus, the mind confesses its original igno
rance, in that it can never discover the nature of the infinite by
reason, however much it may choose to exercise that faculty
upon the subject, for the utmost extent to which induction can
attain is a bare admission of its existence.
Since we now affirm as a positive truth that there is a nexus,
(but a nexus equally unknown with the infinite itself,) we may
be more and more confirmed in our opinion by the answers to
various questions concerning the creation of the world ; as the
end of that creation ; the why and wherefore ; the immediate
purpose ; the impelling cause. If there were really no nexus,
there would be no wherefore, or end, in the case. The end
stands related to the beginning ; and the last cause to the first ;
but such relationship would be impossible if there were no
nexus : the mutual relation of ends consists wholly in the nexus,
whatever that may be. The final cause cannot be primarily for
the finite. Were it so, then all effects would be simply for
the same, and the efficient cause would have no end to exist
for. This would be at variance with its infinity; for if there
be a nexus, and the infinite be the first cause of all, it is im
possible but that all its successive derivations must be related
through the nexus to the first cause. The whole sphere of the
finite, or the universal world, must of course be referable to its
own prime, beginning therein, and terminating therein. There
fore the final or impelling cause cannot be in the means, but
only in the end itself; nor can it terminate in the finite sphere,
but only in the infinite. And thus aU the multiplicity of causes
that concurred to the existence and creation of the world, can
neither end nor begin anywhere but in the infinite ; whatever
proceeds therefrom consists merely of causates. Nor can it be
said that any cause concurring to creation exists elsewhere than
in the essential cause itself, i.e. in the infinite. Were we to
declare that the infinite created for no cause of its own, but
purely for the sake of finite beings, in this case a particular act

62 THE INFINITE,
of wUl would be conceived apart from the nexus of causes ; an
intelUgence would be conceived in the will without a cause ; an
efficiency proceeding from the wiU without either a cause or an
end ; aU which would involve contradiction or negation in the
infinite. If then aU that there is in God be infinite, there must
also be an infinite exertion of will for a cause, as well as an
infinite inteUigence in the wUl, and an infinite efficiency from
the wiU : in short without a cause, no principle whatever is con
ceivable in the infinite. As then the infinite is in this wiU, and
cannot be otherwise, so it must also be in the cause for which
as an end [the creation was effected] : which cause consequently
cannot be other than infinite, or other than primarily for the
sake of the infinite ; or what amounts to the same thing, for
the sake of itself. In this way then the whole universe, and
the whole sphere of the finite, was not created primarily for the
finite, or for men and souls, but for itself; otherwise there
would have been no infinite in the act of will which produced
it ; in which however the finite could not have been, and the
infinite must. The final cause, therefore, or the end ; all the
effects which are ends ; all the means which in themselves are
ends, although in relation to subsequent issues they are causes,
and in relation to the two extremes they are means, — all, we
say, are for no other final cause but God alone.
Seeing then that all things are created for the infinite, and
that the final cause is infinite, as the beginning or first cause is
the infinite ; both causes being therefore identical, i.e. infinite ;
we may now perceive that there must of necessity be a nexus
between the infinite and the finite. Causes and ends cannot be
connected without means; cannot be related to each other
without a nexus. Hereby the affirmation is strengthened of the
existence of a nexus between the infinite and the finite ; though
its nature reason can never know, because the nexus too is in
finite. Hence the position of existence is affirmed, at the same
time that that of quaUty is ignored.
But possibly some of our readers may think they have reason
to object, that according to this, the ultimate end of substances,
or ultimate natural effects, would seem to be infinite ; although
they are as far from being so as the infinite is far from the finite,
or in common parlance, as heaven from earth. For they urge

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 63
that the first natural entity is that least or minimum of which
we had made such frequent mention ; and this first natural en
tity is not infinite, but the infinite is simply its cause. And as
the first natural entity is the cause of the whole series, so the
last must be like the first, that is to say, finite and natural, and
by no means infinite. Again as there can be nothing infinite
in the first natural entity, because the finite and the infinite
cannot coexist as proportional constituents of one and the same
thing, so there can be nothing infinite in the last. Or to speak
more clearly, such coexistence cannot be conceived, although
if stated there might be no contradiction in the words. Con
sequently all the ends of nature, all the boundaries of natural
things, begin and end in the finite sphere. To all this we beg
to observe, that we are speaking at present of the first and
last final cause ; and seeking the end for which these natural
boundaries were created. The first cause cannot be anywhere
but in the infinite, for it has nothing natural in it, but the
natural begins in the first entity produced by the cause; by
which natural things become means to this infinite end. There
fore the ultimate end of such cause cannot consist in any simply
natural realization, but only in a connexion with the same cause
by natural means ; and so the first and last ends are connected
together, and consequently are infinite, or for the infinite.
Hence all things tend to enable natural means to conspire to
that end, and as man is a mean to it, so he too enters into
communion with the same end, not however as being himself
an end, unless in a secondary sense, but only a means. But
of these subjects we shaU treat more at large in the sequel.
§X.
There is a nexus. We thus arrive at the second of our unknown
and the infinite is quantities, and this Ukewise by reasoning; and
the final cause of ^ ' ¦ i i i • j?
creation. we have, therefore, now no right to despair ot
arriving by reason at anything, be it even so profoundly un
known ; howbeit it is not equally permitted us to attain a know
ledge of quality as of mere existence. StiU we have got so far
as to believe in a nexus between the infinite and the finite, but
not a natural, neither a mechanical, geometrical, or physical

64 THE INFINITE,
nexus, nor one of any kind that has any analogy with the quali
ties of the finite. In a word we know that there is a nexus,
but what it is we know nothing whatever. This too may there
fore be reckoned among affirmative and positive verities. And
likewise this, that as there is a nexus, all things stand related
to the first cause through the nexus ; and that the primary final
cause exists entirely for the first cause; wherefore both ends
agree in this, that aU things are made and created for the in
finite. Let us now go further, and see whether anything more
be discoverable by the reasoning process.
First, however, let us see, whether there be any source be
sides mere reasoning, from which we can know the existence of
the nexus. To iUustrate what we mean, let us suppose that
some other person now teUs us the same thing that we ourselves
had discovered by reason ; in this case we shall be bound to
think that he too has discovered it by the same process. And
if any one told me the same, but gave additional particulars
coinciding with it, which went still more to confirm it, then it
would be fair to believe, that he had reasoned more deeply, dis
tinctly and acutely than myself; since he not only sees aU that I
do, and draws my conclusion, but superadds new results, of which
I knew nothing, yet which are nowise at variance with mine, and
therefore I have every reason to believe them. And hence the
mind that would not be deceived, lays hold both of that which
is concurrent with its own reasoning, and of that which other
minds superadd, and which appears to be not at variance with
the former.
But perhaps the reader may be curious to know my drift in
these remarks, and he may ask what greater degree of affirma
tion I want on the subject. I wish then only to draw this con
clusion, that if any one tells me the same thing that I myself
have arrived at, I am bound to believe him on the simple ground
that I believe myself Let us now see whether God himself, or
the infinite, has not been pleased to reveal to us this very thing;
for he tells us that he had from eternity an only-begotten son,
and that this only-begotten son is the infinite, and is God, and
that the connexion between the finite and the infinite is effected
by the only-begotten infinite and God ; and that the father and
the son are one God; both infinite; both the creator of the

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 65
finite universe; that both concurred in the work of creation,
yet that the two are so distinct, that the one is the Father, the
other, the Son ; the one the first person, the other the second ;
wherefore in respect to the names of Father and Son, and in
respect to the word Person, they are indeed two, but in infinity
and divinity they are one and the same. In this way we have
here something like what reason had dictated, to wit, the exist
ence of a nexus between the finite and the infinite ; also the de
claration that the final cause belongs to the infinite, but through
the above nexus ; and that the connexion between the infinite
and the finite is through the Son, and through nothing else.
Thus then we have an agreement of revelation with reasoning.
But here again some may choose to infer as a philosophical
conclusion from our premises, that in this case God created the
finite universe mediately and not immediately ; for if the nexus
between the finite and the infinite lies in the only-begotten Son,
the latter is then the real medium through which the universe
was created. But why, I ask, should we reason so naturally ?
why so finitely ? We see already that there is a nexus ; that
the nexus is infinite ; that the infinite does not admit of distinc
tions like the finite ; so that it is impossible to say with any mean
ing that there are two infinites, or that the infinite is divided, or
that one infinite has done anything through the other; for
herein we should be again desiderating a quale in the infinite,
in which no quale can be found as in finites ; wherefore neither
finite terms, nor finite reasons and perceptions, can have place
here. If you say that there is a connexion between the infinite
and the finite through the Son, and add that the Son or nexus
is infinite, this amounts to the same as saying at once, that the
infinite is the immediate or proximate cause of the creation of
the finite ; for you cannot make one infinite prior to the other
in time, or nearer than the other in place, or imagine any me
dium of a finite kind, since the infinite can be no other than
one. Therefore, the Son being infinite, the infinite is the
proximate and immediate cause of the finite. Thus it is the
same whether we say that the Father is the immediate cause of
creation, or the Son ; for as we have often observed before, the
infinite admits of no finite or natural distinctions. To say then
that the finite came forth mediately through the Son, is exactly

66

THE INFINITE,

tantamount to saying that it came forth immediately through
the Father, or immediately through the Son ; since the Father
and the Son are alike the infinite, and the infinite is the imme
diate cause of the finite. In short we may in a thousand ways
play with words expressing the finite, and with reason also ; for
all our speech and reasoning is necessarily finite. However,
if you choose to state that there is a connexion between the
infinite and the finite through the infinite, and consequently
through the Son, as infinite, I hardly think you can be far
wrong. At any rate to whatever quarter you turn, or however
forcibly you entreat your reason, you will never elicit anything
more, than that the nexus is infinite, and that revelation there
fore coincides in declaring, that the world came forth immedi
ately through both the Father and the Son.

§ XL
But as we have now committed reason to the subject of the
nexus, and it is desirable not to leave it there, plunged in sheer
stupefaction and amazement at the innumerable things that it
sees, of which it is to remain for ever in ignorance ; as this is
the case, we will proffer our hand to reason for another stage of
the journey, and to the best of our abUity direct her on the way,
pointing out how far it appears possible to venture, in these mys
teries, and where we must necessarily stop. We said above that
Man is the ulti- reason would avail us to the point of knowing
nuite effect in the that there is a God, and that he is infinite;
world through which ¦,,,¦,.., ,, .-,,.-,, i
the divine end can Dut that it would not avail to that other point,
be obtained. gf shewing Hs nature, or the nature of the
infinite. We said also, that reason may see as a last result of
induction, that there is a nexus, and that the nexus is infinite ;
but that it cannot know what the nexus is, simply because it is
infinite. It remains now to be seen whether there are not a
vast number of other particulars touching these subjects, which
we may fairly arrive at by reason, and come to know the exist
ence of, although not the nature. When the mind is satisfied
on the question of existence, the next thing is, to enquire how
the question of nature or quale may best receive that Ulustration

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OP CREATION. 67
of which it is capable. But we have not yet arrived at this part
of the subject. The questions concerning existence will in the
meantime afford us many affirmative and positive data, from
some of which the question of quality may to a certain extent
be elucidated. We said above that the primary final cause belongs to the in
finite, or exists for the infinite, and is obtained by finite means.
For if there is a final cause at aU, one for which all things exist,
(which presupposes an impelling cause,) there must then be
ends, i.e. a first end and a last. Such an end as the first and
the last, can only exist by means of a subject which has a first,
a middle, and a last term. And as the final cause cannot be
obtained but by ends, it follows that it cannot be obtained but by
a peculiar subject which has ends ; that is to say, by the finite,
or by the world considered as finite. If it can be obtained only
by ends and boundaries, then there must be two finite ends, a
first and a last ; to say nothing of middle terms, of which we
shaU speak at length in another place. With respect to the
first natural end, we have said that it is the first created
minimum, the smaUest natural seed, or the simple principle of
the world. We shall now leave the middle terms, and pass at
once to the last natural end, through which the divine end
must be obtained; which, as respects its first cause, is the infi
nite; wherefore the final cause is infinite, and therefore the
same in the first end as in the last; and so the first and last
cause are at one in this, that they both exist for the infinite.
Now then the question is, where or what is the last effect in
the natural or finite sphere by which this final cause can ulti
mately be obtained? We reply that for this planet the last
effect is man. We wiU not now expend our attention on other
worlds, or enquire whether there are any such, or how many,
or whether they too contain planets, or whether in them also
there are ultimate effects by which this final cause is obtainable.
Denial or affirmation on these points is irrelative to our argu-
nient ; for we are not now canvassing them, nor are they in
question at all. But we are here speaking of our own planet,
and we aver that man is the last effect thereon by which the
end contemplated by the infinite may be reaUzed. We wUl now
enquire whether men are these last effects we are in search of,
f2

68 THE INFINITE,
or angels, if the reader believes in angels, or whether anything
else is to be, so considered. It is no longer denied that the
natural minimum, the seed or primordial germ of nature, is
the first effect. This admission gained, let us proceed in our
investigation. Intermediates are necessary to the obtaining of
the ultimate effect. It would be contrary to aU reason for the
ultimate to be in the intermediates, or the end in the middle.
Therefore the elements cannot be the ultimate effects, for they
are the intermediates which provide for the existence of the ulti
mate effect, and give it being. Ether, air, fire, water, cannot
be what we are seeking ; for they are only means, and besides
are inanimate ; and so far present us with nothing of a living
and inteUigent character into whose composition they enter;
therefore they cannot be ultimate effects. The earth with the
various growths that adorn it, cannot be the ultimate effect ; for
in the latter all the means must concur. What is the use of the
means but to constitute the ultimate effect, by which alone the
end can be obtained ? It is indeed obtained by means, yet only
by the means leading to the ultimate : whence there is nothing
in the world but conspires to the same end or finale, to obtain
which all things must conspire to the ultimate effect, in which,
in this manner, the end wiU exist. We see then that in the
subjects we have mentioned, something is still wanting, that is
to say, some ultimate effect. Now therefore let us come to
man, and let us see whether all things conspire to make him
the ultimate effect, through which the said divine end can be
realized. In him aU other things concur as means : all the ele
ments concur to his life, to his senses, to his reasoning power,
&c. Whatever be the nature of the elements, or our opinions
about them, they must exist in a series, the subtle first and the
gross afterwards ; otherwise the body would be without breath
or Ufe, and its finer parts would be destitute of motion, nay,
destitute of the very springs of motion. At least the subtler
elements concur to produce or to move the grosser, for no mo
tion can be induced upon bodies without a cause, or without
principles of motion derived froin other substances. And if
motion contributes to the life of man, the subtler elements are
stUl the means, and in this way conduce and tend to realize the
ultimate effect. To whatever class of philosophers the reader

AND THE PINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 69
may belong, he must admit, if the subtler elements concur to
the existence or subsistence of the last, and this last concurs to
realize a particular effect, that then, in all reason, aU the ele
ments necessarily concur to realize the same. We know, how
ever, by the senses, that nearly all things do concur in man.
We see that water, fire, and earth contribute to form and
sustain him. For he is nourished by them ; he is made up of
them ; his blood and humors are rendered liquid by their instru
mentality ; he also obtains heat from the same source ; out of
the air he takes hearing; out of the ether sight; and if we
chose to proceed, we might shew that the subtler elements Uke
wise, both severally and in combination, concur to endow him.
Neither the elements then, nor the elemental world; neither
the matters of the earth, nor the planet itself; no, nor the
vegetable kingdom, can be regarded as ends, inasmuch as they
all concur to make up and support another finite being as their
last result. If it be objected that numberless other occult
finites, as souls, angels, &c., possibly exist in nature, which
perhaps do not concur, I still answer, that nothing can by any
chance exist in nature, be its sphere as subtle as it may, no not
even angels, but with a view to concur in man ; not indeed to
concur to his formation, yet to the obtaining of the divine end
in man as the ultimate effect of the world.
But it may be thought that, at this rate, we only prove that
man is the ultimate effect of nature in point of existence, i.e.
the last in time ; and if this were aU it might then be argued,
that other animals too are ultimate effects, as their composition,
senses and mechanical organs appear to be similar to our own,
and all the before-mentioned series concur to produce them,
just as they concur to the corresponding parts and endowments
in man. How then-can it be said that man is the ultimate effect
through which alone the end is realized, when by the shewing
of our very senses, the same ultimate effect is evidently pre
sented in other living creatures also ? But let us proceed a step
further. The ultimate effect we are seeking must have more in
it than a mere machine : by a mere machine the divine end
could never be realized. If it could, the whole universe might
justly be regarded as the ultimate effect. A mere machine,
however, can only serve as a means to the ultimate effect. In

70 THE INFINITE,
the ultimate machine something more is requisite ; something
not merely passive; something active in addition to the passive;
in short, something that tends and contributes to the end of
creation. This end does not come of itself, or result from
a mere machine, unless the latter has in it something by
whose instrumentaUty it is enabled to concur to produce the
end. Much as in an ordinary machine, the force and power lie
not in the matter but in the mechanism. And so in the ultimate
mechanical or material effect of the world, there must be a
power and a principle which if not active and causative, is at
least admissive or receptive, and by which the machine is enabled
to acknowledge and to contemplate God. There must therefore
be something that can comprehend the end, that can acknow
ledge the end, and acknowledge also, in the fulness of faith,
that the end is infinite. Without such a power and endow
ment, an ultimate effect embodying the divine intention is in
conceivable. But animals have not this power, nor can they have
any comprehension of its object. There must then be a mean
whereby an endowment so necessary in the ultimate effect shall
be present there. There must be not only a body, but a soul ;
and not only a soul, but a conjunction between the soul and
the body, and consequently a rational man. Hence rationality
is given to man through the soul and body at once, that the
divine end may be realized. We see therefore that man is the
ultimate effect on our planet; the effect through which this
grand result may be obtained.

§ XII.
It is evident from the foregoing considerations, that man is
the ultimate effect of nature, intended to reaUze the divine end
for which the world was created; and that unless the first and
last final causes, or the impulsive and the final cause, could
combine in this ultimate effect ; so as to be one and the same
in either end ; or so as to present a connexion between the in
finite and the last end, as there is between the infinite and the
first ; there could be no final cause, stUl less one that respected
the infinite. Therefore in this ultimate effect, namely man,

AND THE PINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 71
dweUs the veriest final cause of creation. But for this last
cause in the finite to respect the first cause, there must be some
thing in the same finite, that can, and does, partake of the
divine and the infinite: were there nothing divine or infinite
in the ultimate ' finite effect, the infinite could have no final
cause respecting it in the finite. But this perhaps startles the
reader, and prompts him to enquire what new distinction I am
drawing, and why I speak in such manifest opposition to prin
ciples and reason ; for how can the finite possess aught of the in
finite, when there is no ratio between the two. Good reader !
have a little patience. I say that as the end of creation is
purely divine and infinite, and as it is realized nowhere but in the
ultimate effect, which is man, so it follows in all reason, that
there must be something divine, or receptive of the divinity, in
man ; otherwise the end is not obtained. But hear now in what
this divine or infinite predication may consist. Not certainly in
the fact that man is an animal, and has senses prorided him to
enjoy the delights of the world ; nor in the fact that he has a
soul, for his soul is finite, and can contain nothing of the in
finite. Neither in reason, which is the effect of the cooperation
between the soul and the body ; which as they are both finite,
so the effect of both is also finite : therefore it does not lie in
reason. So far we find nothing divine in man. Where is that
then which appears to be nowhere, and yet is necessary to re
alize the divine end ? It ought to be present in the subject to
be fairly predicated of it. We answer that in spite of any diffi
culties in the case, we may nevertheless learn through reason
what this divine principle consists in ; in short that it lies in
the circumstance, that man can acknowledge, and does acknow
ledge, God ; that he can beUeve, and does believe, that God is
infinite ; that though he is ignorant of the nature of the Deity,
yet he can acknowledge, and does acknowledge, his existence ;
and this, without the shadow of doubt : and especially does it
consist in this further privUege, that by that undoubting faith,
he is sensible in love, or deUght resulting from love, of a pecu
Uar connexion with the infinite. But where he doubts, he does
not acknowledge, and the divine is not in him. All dirine
worship proceeds from this fountain of faith and love. Of
worship, however, we must treat in another place, the subject

73 THE INFINITE,
being one of immense extent and difficulty : enough for the
present to know that it is given in revelation. Thus the true
divinity in man, who is the ultimate effect in which the divine
end dweUs, is none other than an acknowledgment of the ex
istence and infinity of God, and a sense of deUght in the love
of God. Here then is the solution of the problem. Yet this
dirine principle could never be reahzed in man, unless his body
had a soul given to it out of the purer and more perfect world,
and unless reason were accorded as the fruit of the intercourse
between the two, with a power of concluding by self-contem
plation, by the view of effects, and by everything in the world,
that there is a God, and that He is infinite ; although human
reason cannot do this of itself, inasmuch as man, with all his
parts and his very soul, is finite; notwithstanding which, he
may be a fit recipient, and as he is in the finite sphere, he may
concur to dispose himself for reception. Thus we see that the
end is obtainable through man alone, and through no other
creature, although other creatures may be regarded as means
to the existence of the ultimate effect, and therein of the dirine
end. Therefore the acknowledgment of God, with faith for its
ground, is the foundation of all divine worship.

§ XIII.
Objection: That But while the mind is thinking on this sub-
oiLtedy Me'lwi' ject, many perplexing considerations cannot
mate effect. fail to arise, and first it may be argued, that
if the above were the impelling cause of creation, or what is
the same thing, were the final cause in the infinite ; and if man
be the ultimate effect designed to realize the divine end ; then
it is evident that although there is the final cause in God, yet
the infinite has not obtained his end. From which it is inferred,
that failure in this respect argues a certain imperfection and
finiteness, destructive of the dirine infinity in the cause. For
if the end does not answer to the cause, what becomes of the
infinite in the cause ? Besides which, we do not see that there
is any divine end in the ultimate effect per se ; and how is this
difficulty to be surmounted ?

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 73
Before we can solve it we must recur to our principles, and
institute an examination of our first finite, after which we shall
be prepared for advancing. We have gained thus much, that
the infinite is the cause of the finite, and that the first finite is
most perfect or most perfectly finite ; for nothing but what is
thus perfect can proceed immediately from the infinite. God
alone, as we said above, can be infinitely perfect. Were anything
else so termed, the adjective perfect would be simply destroyed,
leaving the infinite only, which is God. Yet although, save
God, there cannot be anything infinitely perfect, there may
nevertheless be that which is finitely most perfect, as coming
proximately and immediately from the infinite ; yet even this is
but finitely perfect, and involves mere finiteness, and nothing
whatever of infinity. Nothing but what is most perfect can
proceed from the infinite, and as the primitive proceeded imme
diately therefrom, so nothing but what is most perfect can be
predicated of it. If there be a nexus between the infinite and
the primitive, then whatever is most perfect in the primitive, is
infinite in the cause. Thus all that there is in the primitive, is
superlatively perfect by its derivation from the infinite. The
eminent perfection of the primitive may be divided into innu
merable particulars as its grounds, all of which are infinite in
the cause, and therefore do not forbid us to attribute them
finitely to it, although there is no ratio or analogy between the
primitive and the cause. Let us grant then that the primitive
is most surpassingly perfect in the finite sense, and now let us
see whether all its consequences or derivatives can by possibility
be equally perfect in the same sense, or whether the primitive
alone can be so. To aid our conceptions we will take but one
illustration of perfection, as an example of the most perfect
state, and confine ourselves to that, in order not to distract the
mind. All the least and simple entities or first natures of the
world — aU which are produced by the infinite immediately — are
finitely speaking most perfect; and therefore also most self-
similar. Finite perfection of this order admits not of dissimili
tude. Otherwise it would not be what it is, but the perfection
would be at fault and never reach the summit. It must there
fore be granted that the above primitives were most self-similar,
because most perfect or most perfectly similar. Now let us

74 THE INFINITE,
come to the derivatives and consequences. Whenever a com
pound issues by derivation from perfectly self-similar primitives,
many of which together are required for its production, it is
erident that modes must at once be caUed into existence. No
compound can be formed without them. We wiU suppose then
that the first mode coming from the first most perfect entity, is
as perfect as its source; for no most perfect and self-similar
essence can produce any mode, or any second thing by a mode,
without the mode immediately adhering to it being similar to its
antecedent essence. On this ground we may grant that the first
modes, Uke the first entities, are most perfectly self-similar.
Furthermore, contingencies must concur before anything can
be produced by modes. Let us see now whether, finitely and
rationally speaking, anything that is most perfect can be derived
from the first most perfect entity, by modes and contingencies.
We say that as the first is finitely most perfect, this is impos
sible, and contrary to the very definition and conception of the
finite ; i.e. if the finite compound requires to be finited more
and more by finites, and if this necessarily take place by modes
and contingencies. Granting even that contingencies and modes
existed in the superlatively perfect primitive, and in themselves
were equaUy perfect, still it does not foUow that other derived
contingencies, modes and substances can be perfect in the
same degree. Were aU things, from first to last, equally per
fect, were they all most perfect, the finite would not exist. If
the world is to have being, more or less must be admitted in
perfections, namely, of the scale or series ; succession also and
degrees : without degrees no finite properly so called is possible.
Were the perfection equally consummate throughout in the
derivatives of the series, the finite would not be true to itself in
point of perfection — it would not be finite, because there would
be no degrees,' — no perfect, more perfect, and most perfect, — but
aU together in this respect, or abstractedly from substance, it
would be infinitely perfect, in short, infinite. Therefore as it
is finite, and the essence of the finite consists in its subjection
to degrees, and to the laws of succession and derived substan-
tiaUty, as well as to other predicaments which are inseparable
from the finite proper ; so of necessity in the derivatives, both
through modes and contingencies, the likeness itself can never

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 75
amount to identical similarity, but on the contrary must involve
degrees, or degradation from more to less. Granting then the
one proposition, that the primitive was finitely most perfect,
we have also obtained the other, that there were finiteness and
degrees in the perfection; so that by derivation the subject
becomes successively less perfect, and images the perfection of
the primitive less and less. For all that is finite must admit of
a succession of different states : the infinite is the only being to
which this necessity does not apply.
And from these considerations it follows, that all derivatives
are perfect exactly in proportion as they are near to the primi
tive ; for the greatest finite perfection becomes less and less in
succession. To shew this we will again instance the perfect
self- similarity of the primitive. Now this similarity cannot be
equally perfect in the derivatives, because it is finite, and be
cause the finiting process by which the compound is made, takes
place with successive increments through modes and contingen
cies. Therefore the same self-similarity cannot exist in the
ultimate derivatives ; we mean the same absolute and most per
fect similarity. Experience and nature both attest the tmth of
this ; for in these derivatives there is no one thing that is abso
lutely or most perfectly like any other. This is a rule in deriva
tives, and applies to all natural compounds whatever. Thus
the superlative degree of perfection cannot exist in derivatives,
because they are finite, and the infinitely perfect cannot exist
in finites. And by consequence, whatever of imperfection, or
of lessened perfection, there is in nature, has its rise immedi
ately from finites. From the infinite it can derive no conditions
but those of superlative similarity, perfection, and purity.
Let us now proceed to man, who is the ultimate effect of
nature, with a view of seeing, whether anything superlatively
perfect in a finite sense can exist in him, or the contrary. We
answer in the negative. We say that as he is the ultimate
effect of nature ; as he is made up of all the intermediate effects ;
as he is finite, and many times finite ; and as his soul may obey
his body, and thereby become like his body ; so that which is
superlatively perfect in a finite sense is impossible in him. This
is a consequence of the antecedent proposition. And we know
not if it may not even be taken as an axiom, that perfection

76 THE INFINITE,
indeed may exist in man, but naturally speaking by no means^
superlative perfection, which may be manifested in the primitive
alone, and nowhere else. § XIV.
God has exercised We shaU now be asked how the divine end
his prevision and can be obtained, unless the last effect of nature
to ensure obtaining be simUar to the first ? For if the dirine end
the primary end. jg ^^ i^g obtained through the finite, it cannot
possibly be obtained, unless by the constant presence of a super
lative perfection in the whole series, causing all things to con
spire to this divine and infinite end. Not, however, to moot
this question at present, though it must come before us shortly,
we may observe that at any rate all the means cannot conspire
to the above end, unless they too are similar in perfection to the
first principle : and here suffice it to say that naturaUy speaking
this is impossible.
The infinite could not but foreknow this, and as the end
was dirine and infinite, could not but at the same time provide
to meet it. For as the end is infinite, and as God is infinite,
so his foreknowledge — his previdence — cannot be distinguished
from his providence, but the two are one and the same to the
mind : in fact, were they divided, we should at once come into
the sphere of the finite. Therefore foreknowledge and prori-
dence were present together to obtain this end. Let us see
then what was the nature of this combined or identified previ
dence and proridence; which we may now do in a finite
manner from the effect or a posteriori. For as the corporeal
part of man could not possibly be the superlative perfection of
finite existence, being so low in the series of derivations, and
so distant from the perfection of the primitive ; and as Deity
foreknew this condition arising out of the finiteness of the sub
ject — foreknew that the body or the last effect could not have
the above perfection ; — therefore he at once prorided for the case
by the creation of the soul, which he made rational, and con
summately rational, and indeed most perfect, so that it might
rule the body. A soul that should have dominion over all parts
of the body at once. A soul without which the body could do

and THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 11
nothing, but which should dispose the whole and the parts at
its sovereign will. A soul without which nothing should be
admitted into the human will. A soul without which neither a
single condition of will nor of action should be manifested in
the body, or by the body. Now in this we recognize a Provi
dence; in the circumstance, we mean, that a consummately
By giving a soul rational and perfect soul was given to man, with
to the body. a power of SO governing the body, as that the
whole corporeal frame, with aU its parts, should singly tend to
the above end, namely, to the divine finale. With a view to
which, and by means of the superlatively perfect connexion
subsisting between it and the body, the instant obedience of
the whole and the parts is surrendered to it. That thereby it,
the soul, may make the body, intrinsically imperfect though it
be, in its own likeness ; or in the likeness, and with the super
lative perfections, of its own natural minimum.
And as the soul, though finite, is comparatively similar and
near to that most perfect first principle ; for all dissimilitude
proceeds simply from remoteness, and from the law of series
and derivation, according to which the perfect becomes less so
by degrees ; — as, we say, the soul is comparatively near to per
fection, so, when left to its own disposal, it would seem that it
could not fail to aspire to that end in a purer manner ; and
therefore, — I am now speaking of the soul of the first man, — to
desire to constitute the body in its own Ukeness, and to govern
it as such ; for it had the power, inasmuch as nothing could be
done without its knowledge and concurrence. But as the soul
was not alone in the government of the will, but exercised its
rule in conjunction with the body, so its efforts — its nisus —
could not by possibility be exactly identical with, or perfectly
similar to, the nisus of the body. For since the wiU depended
upon the reason, and the reason on the soul and the body
together, hence the one must have governed the other ; which
would not have been necessary had the will depended simply on
the soul, without the body being involved in the compact. And
here we might expatiate at great length on the free-wUt of man,
and specificaUy on that which the first man enjoyed in worldly
things ; and on the intercourse between the soul and the body
as concurring simultaneously to the faculty of will; but we

78 THE INFINITE,
must not now meddle with these subjects, lest they should dis
turb the course of our argument. Let us therefore continue
the thread where we left it, and proceed with the conclusion,
that the infinite Deity has exerted both prevision and pro
vidence, in making all things tend to the divine end ; and this,
through a soul destined to have dominion over the body, and
with the body to govern the determinations of the will : through
a soul which was endowed therefore in the first man with a
superlatively perfect direction to that primary end.
But perhaps it may be urged, that the Supreme Being having
foreseen and prorided, that the soul he had given to man could
not absolutely dispose aU the parts of the body at its own plea
sure to that primary end, but that it would succumb to the
body, and the action of the body prevail in the will, and thereby
the primary end would necessarily be lost ; as the Omniscient
and Omnipotent Being foresaw this; why did he give man a
body of the kind? Why did he give him a soul which was
unable to govern the body? Why did he make an ultimate
effect which could faU ? Would not this seem to argue, that
the ultimate effect was not under the direction of the infi
nite, and did not exist for the ends of the infinite ? The
objection is specious enough. Yet as the infinite is not charge
able in the case ; especially as the whole of primal nature was
in a finite sense superlatively perfect ; and finitely speaking, as
aU the means conspiring to that end, were given ; so that the
first man could, if he would, have been faithful to the end;
and as we in no way detract from finite perfection, in declaring
that all the parts in man might have conspired to that end in
the most perfect manner, provided only the will could have been
governed by the soul : and as the soul could not possibly be
alone in the ultimate effect, or act by itself, without the feUow-
ship of the body ; as it could not singly have dominion in the
wUl ; so it was not of possible attainment, that the whole ulti
mate effect, in all its parts, should tend to the end, precisely
in the same manner, or with the same consummate perfection ;
nor on the other hand that the effect should live inteUigently
without communication with the soul. In fact, without the
combined agency of both the soul and body, the end could
never be obtained, inasmuch as it was obtained in the ultimate

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 79
effect. But these subjects wiU be better seen hereafter, when
we have treated of the mechanism by which the soul and the
body communicate with each other, of their respective govern
ments, and also of the wiU ; which matters we intend to discuss
in the work to which the present treatise is preliminary.
But to continue the tissue of our discourse, which it would
be unwise to interrupt, since we might thereby hinder the mind
from seeing the tenor of the divine foreknowledge and prori-
deuQc : as God foresaw that without a rational soul the body
could not be a mean to the primary end, so he prorided that
a consummately rational soul should be given to it, or that
reason should be given at once to both body and soul, to enable
man to acknowledge God, and become a mean to the end.
And having given and connected these two, he also foresaw that
the body would command the soul, and that the will common
to both, could and would, obey the body in preference to the
soul. In this case providence went hand in hand with previ
dence. In short, the Deity provided means by which the pri
mary end should be reaUzed notwithstanding. He provided
that on the part of the body itself there should be a connexion
of the finite with the infinite ; that there should be a nexus in
the last effect equally as in the first, (of which we have spoken
already). He foresaw that no nexus was possible between the
finite and the inflnite, unless the nexus itself were infinite ; as
a necessary consequence of which, the connexion between the
last effect, namely, man, and the infinite, must have place
through the infinite ; otherwise the dirine end could never be
obtained. Now by the faU, and the dominion of the body over
the soul, the connexion was broken and the end would have
been frustrated. But God provided against this by his infinite,
only-begotten Son, who took on him the ultimate effect of the
world, or a manhood and a human shape, and thereby was in
finite in and with the finite, and consequently restored the nexus
in his own person between the infinite and the finite, so that
the primary end was realized. Thus we see that all things have
By the only-be- conspired to it ; that to further it man has a
':p::iZ^mn::i. ^^^ S^-^^ l^^^^ ^l^^^^^y l^^ becomes a rational
timate effect. being : that the soul and the body have a di
vided and at the same time a combined dominion in the human

80 THE INFINITE,
will : that as the Deity foresaw that the issue of this dominion
would be unhappy, he provided for the event by a connexion of
man, or the last effect, with the infinite, Who thus himself be
came the last effect, at once God and man, the Mediator between
the finite and the infinite. That so by him alone, and through
our connexion with him alone, we ourselves are ultimate effects
to the primary end. And that without him there would be no
connexion between the last effect and the infinite; whereas
through him somewhat of the divine may dwell in us, namely,
in the faculty to know and believe that there is a God, and that
He is infinite; and again through Him, by the use of the
means, we are led to true religion, and become children of God,
and not of the world. This, however, is not the place to en
quire what the nature of the above connexion is. For the pre
sent let us be content with the certainty, that through the
only-begotten Son of God, the first finites are connected with
the last, and both with God ; and that the nexus itself is infinite
in the last and the first alike ; as we stated before.
But perhaps the reader still feels a difficulty, and thinks,
even granting what we have stated, that the divine end is not
How the end may obtained thereby. For have we not declared,
be obtained in the that it Cannot be obtained in the ultimate effect,
™ ' ^*' unless by a connexion between the infinite and
the finite in the only-begotten Son; and of consequence, by
faith ; true and steadfast faith being the only means to obtain it.
And yet it is a well-known circumstance, that scarcely one-third
or one-fourth part of our race is aware that the only-begotten
;Son of God assumed the human form ; still less, that our sole
connexion with God is through him ; and that the foundations
of faith are possible through him alone. And it is equally cer
tain that before the coming of the Messiah nearly all mankind
was in the dark; and even the Jews themselves were no better;
for they believed for the most part that the Messiah was to
come, not for the cure of souls, but for empire in the world ;
to give their nation universal sovereignty ; an opinion which is
still entertained by that people. On these grounds it might be
thought, that no divine end could be obtained, save in those
few who knew and believed, during their sojourn in the world,
that the Messiah would come, and did come, for the salvation

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 81
of our souls. But let us turn to those who had lived in igno
rance for ages before the Messiah came, and to those now alive
who were and continue ignorant that the Messiah assumed the
human form, to connect us, as imperfect beings, through like
ness with Himself, with the dirine end; and consequently not
only to capacitate us for the reception of faith, but also for
actually living in the divine end. Now the question is, whether
those who were and who are ignorant of the coming of the
Messiah, could, or can, be in the dirine end ? I answer that
they can. For whoso has faith in the Infinite, does not exclude
from faith the only-begotten Son. It is true he does not dis
tinguish between the two, because he cannot; nor can the
persons in the Godhead be distinguished in faith in point of
divinity and infinity. Hence those who can beheve imphcitly
in God and the infinite, thereby implicitly include all that is
infinite in God, yea, even those attributes of which they them
selves are ignorant. And as there is a divine essence in faith,
so therein the one infinite is inseparable from the other. And
thus although the GentUes be ignorant, yet even in this point
there can be no negative principle, for if they believe in the
infinite, they comprize all that there is in the infinite. Never
theless they can neither become partakers in the dirine end,
nor believe, nor be saved, otherwise than through that infinite
nexus, without whom there is no salvation. The only question
remaining therefore is, whether we are made partakers of the
divine end by the advent of the Messiah, by his assumption of
the form of the ultimate effect, whereby he has connected it
with the infinite ; or whether, for this result, we also require to
possess a knowledge of his advent ? I reply that those who did
not know, and do not know, that He has come, could, and can,
become partakers, by the grace of God, through his coming;
for otherwise we should suppose something in God that would
seem at variance with his dirine nature and end. But as for
those who know the Messiah, or have the opportunity to know
him, we say that they too are made partakers through his
coming, but the knowledge also of his coming is necessary to
them, in order to their faith ; for the quality of faith is deter
mined by knowledge, and its perception rendered distinct and
full ; and therefore where knowledge is given, it and faith are

82 THE INFINITE,
inseparable. But on this head we shall have more to say when,
in pursuance of our present plan, we come to treat of divine
worship. Here we are only desirous to shew what the end of
creation is, and to prove that it exists primarily for the Infinite
or the Creator; and that everything in the created universe
tends thither.
§XV.
There are many ^^^ ^^^tly, if the primary end be infinite,
secondary ends. and terminates as it begins in the Infinite, for
whom alone the world was created, are there not other ends also
for the existence of man? Was he not meant to enjoy the
earth as a possession? to enjoy human delights? For what else
are his senses given him ? or why do his delights penetrate to
his very soul ? Is he not designed to live after death in blessed
ness greater than the earth can afford him ? All this I do not
wish to deny, nay, cannot deny. But I have been speaking
only of the primary end, which is not finite, but infinite ; not
for man, but for God himself. Therefore in what has been said
it is by no means questioned that there are numerous secondary
ends. All primary ends, before they are obtained, divide, by
means, into many secondary ends in the finite sphere. I main
tain, however, that aU these secondary ends conspire to the
primary end ; and are necessary as ways and means to it. And
as there is a dirine principle in the progression of the final
cause, it is impossible but the middle causes, and above all the
last effect, which embodies the final cause, should themselves
participate in that cause. Let us instance the human senses,
and the delights that we receive by them. Now unless we had
senses, and their exercise was attended with pleasure sufficient
to cause all the harmonious perceptions of sight and hearing to
affect the soul with rivid delight ; unless sight and hearing were
ends ; and unless the soul's delighting itself with them, and
with their harmonic recipiency of the creation, were again their
end, — unless, we say, this were the case, the primary end would
never be attained. The privilege which is possessed by the soul,
united to the body by the tie of natural harmony, of being
carried away, in fellowship with the body, with new delight, and

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION, 83
with added freedom, into the knowledge, adoration, and love of
God, is a means to the primary end. In truth, there is
nothing in the world that is pleasurable to the senses, but
becomes superlatively delightful, if the thought of God is in its
enjoyment, converting all things into still more exquisite de
lights ; which the subject will perceive if he be connected with
the first cause. Furthermore the soul, as it is bound up with
the body, requires to be instructed by the senses, to enable it
thereafter to instruct the body, and both to tend to the primary
end. So also whatever lies in the body tends to that end in the
same manner. Man's possession of the earth as his own tends
again to the same end ; we mean, the circumstance that he is
nourished upon the earth ; that he Uves on its surface ; that his
senses and soul are schooled by it, and he is taught the better
to acknowledge God and the infinite, and through this acknow
ledgment, in conjunction with faith, to become a partaker of
the primary end; yet only as the ultimate means, for the pri
mary end lies in the infinite, and the secondary ends in man,
terminating in him as a finite being ; although by the acknow
ledgment, thought, and love of God, and the pleasure experi
enced in the thought and worship of him, man himself becomes
a partaker, though only, we again repeat, as a means — of the
primary end. It may therefore be said, that nothing can be or
exist in man, or the world, that does not tend to that one end ;
so that in this way there is nothing, whether dead or alive, but
adores and worships God, since aU things tend to obtain the
divine end in the ultimate effect. And oh 1 how greatly happy
would man be, if he directed thither all worldly delights, and
all the gifts of the mundane sphere. What a soul would he
form ! What a subject of everlasting happiness, ineffable in its
delights, as perpetual in its aspirations to the end of ends ! It
has seemed good to the supreme and infinite Deity, that for all
ends in all living subjects delight of some kind shall always be
the impelling cause to the final cause : what some call pleasure,
but we prefer to term it natural delight. In every animal there is
this impulsive element, which spontaneously drives and incites it
to peculiar ends. There is one delight which impels it to nourish
itself; a deUght received through all the senses impelUng it to
live ; a delight which attracts it to procreate its kind ; and a de-
G 2

84 _ THE INFINITE,
light which causes it to rear its offspring. From the natural
delight, therefore, in every case, we may conclude unfailingly
to the end for which the subject was created. In man there is
a simUar natural delight, which drives, incites, and carries him
to all his natural ends ; riz., to Uve as lord of the planet, to
nourish his body, to propagate his species, and to rear his
children. Now the single incentive in aU these acts is some
particular pleasure or element of delight, which in one case is
denominated taste, smell, . or sight ; in another, desire, love,
parental affection, glory, or by numerous other titles; the
somrce of all, however, consisting entirely in the pleasure and
delight of which we have spoken ; and the source of the delight,
in love, whUe love itself depends upon connexion or harmonic
contiguity. Therefore we are naturally incited to all our ends
by some element of deUght, the extinction and death of which is
on this account so contrary to our nature. But let us come to
the primary end, to which, as to other ends, we are led, in part
sensibly, in part insensibly, by a peculiar element of deUght.
Now this delight is far purer, more delicate and strong, than
any of the causes and delights of the other ends, and often
actually overcomes them all ; for it embodies whatever of super
lative perfection is possible in delights ; so that men often aspire
to it athwart the extinction of all their other delights ; nay, for
its sake desire death itself. Thus we see that as all secondary
ends tend to the primary end, so Jiuman delights are not really
at variance with it. Also that every natural delight, once com
menced, increases of itself by use and exercise, expanding in a
progressive ratio, and spontaneously attains its climax; after
which it spontaneously declines, and diminishes in a similar
ratio, until at last it is self-consumed. In some men, indeed, it
is so excessive, as not only to consume itself, but even the very
body also, before it reaches its climax. The delight, however,
that tends to the dirine end, inasmuch as it dwells in finite
parts, has its origin indeed at the same time as reason, and has
also its increments and its degrees ; yet we see that instead of
reaching the highest degree, and then declining and diminish
ing until it vanishes away, it ever tends to the very acme of
perfection, up to the hour of death, when it ought to be present
in all the perfection of which it is capable. It therefore nears

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 85
and nears the summit to the end of this Ufe. And here be it
observed, that we cannot now argue the question, whether the
rights and laws of nature in human society are only to be re
garded as means for its preservation, — whether, in short, the
maintenance of society is their only end, — or not. The subject
would be out of place at present. Supposing it decided in
the affirmative, it wUl stiU follow, that these means are pro-
portionably perfect, and most in accordance with reason, when
they so regard the economy and preservation of society, as
to make it a means to the primary end, or to any secondary
end which tends either mediately or immediately to realize the
primary. Having fairly arrived at this stage by the resolution of the
question of cause, we are now for the first time in a condition
to institute the question of quality. For observe what we have
gained. We have the affirmation of reason for the existence of
God, and also for his infinity ; and as this is now positive know
ledge, together with that other truth of the existence of a nexus
between God and man in the person of the only-begotten Son,
so we may legitimately advance, not indeed to enquire into the
nature or qualities of Deity, because he is infinite, and his
quaUties therefore we can never penetrate ; but to enquire what
there can be in man to lead to this primary end ; what there
can be in him that does not repugn the infinite and the nexus :
how a confessedly infinite Deity may best be expressed in finite
terms that shall not be repugnant to the occasion : what befitting
worship consists in ; what is the pecuUar efficacy of faith pro
ceeding from a true acknowledgment of God ; with innumerable
other subjects, which cannot be settled briefly, but require to
be rationally deduced in a volume by themselves. And as, by
the grace of God, we have aU these matters revealed in Holy
Scripture, so where reason is perplexed in its apprehensions, we
must at once have recourse to revelation ; and where we cannot
discover from revelation either what we should adopt, or in what
sense we should understand its declarations, we must then fly
to the oracle of reason. In this way natural theology must
proffer her hand to revealed, where the meaning of revelation
seems doubtful ; and revealed theology must lend her guidance
in turn to rational theology when reason is in straits. For

86 THE INFINITE,
revealed and rational theology can never be contrary to each
other, if the latter only be truly rational, and does not attempt
to penetrate into the mysteries of infinity ; in which case it is
not truly rational.
Conclusion : Let us now define the meaning of the terms
natural and divine, as contradistinguished from each other ; for
some mistake the dirine for the natural, and some, on the other
hand, the natural for the dirine. In general, by natural or
material we mean all that of which we see the effect in nature,
and likewise the cause, instruments or means. Thus machines
and their motive powers are mechanical and natural, because we
see the instruments of motion, the wheels, the levers, the pulleys;
and also the power accruing therefrom by mechanical laws. In
the elemental sphere we consider it natural, that the vapors of
water drawn up from the earth are condensed into clouds in the
upper region of the air, and descend in showers ; that storms
arise ; that the sun enUghtens the world with his rays, and che
rishes and warms it ; that the ocean ebbs and flows at regular
intervals. And the causes of these events we regard as natural,
because they recur at stated periods, and because in time we
may be enabled to comprehend that the means which produce
them are in risible nature. It is natural in the mineral world
for fire to melt metals ; for mixtures of certain liquids to war,
effervesce, fume and ignite; for different metals, in certain
proportions, when immersed in appropriate liquids, to form what
are called phUosophical trees, [as of zinc, lead, &c.] ; for the
magnet to attract iron, and turn to the pole. Not to mention
numerous other circumstances, which, as we know that they
arise from risible substances and matters, and at the wiU and
pleasure of human workmen, we term natural and not divine.
In our animal kingdom sight is natural ; also hearing, feeling,
the growth and expansion of our Umbs and frames ; old age ;
the pain which wounds inflict upon us, and the state of disease
which follows them; death succeeding either poison or the
sword : all these effects come under the designation of natural.
So again the motions and sensations of firing creatures, whether
external or internal,- are denominated natural instincts, and the
whole animal being is organic. As to those other matters of
which we know nothing, and which are transacted in that purer

AND THE FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION.. 87
sphere from which all the modes existing in compounds derive
their principles, some persons would have them named divine
or spiritual. In my judgment all that exists from the primitive
seed of nature to her largest compound, including the whole
world with all its parts, and the origin and motion of its parts,
and the innumerable modes proceeding therefrom, in a word,
the totality of the finite sphere, all — all is natural. But yet
there is nothing natural but is dirine. The only difference is,
that the primitive is made natural by God immediately, while
the other substances successively arising and subsisting from it,
are made so mediately. Thus whatever we term natural is
mediately dirine : for it comes through finite means from the
primitives, and consequently from the infinite, who is the cause,
fountain and origin of all the parts as well as of the whole.
Therefore nothing exists, subsists, or is made, but derives its
origin and cause from the infinite, without whom nothing can
exist, nothing can subsist, nothing in the universe can be, or
can be made. For nothing exists but from causes and causes
of causes, and consequently from the first cause, that is to say,
from the infinite. In this respect God is all in all, and there is
nothing conceivable without a beginning and cause in the infi
nite, provided always it be not repugnant to him, no matter
how low it stands in the finite series. But to caU the cause,
origin and effects of anything in the subtler or grosser field of
nature, which exists mediately through other finite things, im
mediately dirine, would be tantamount to finiting God, or
making him similar to the finite being; and consequently to
denying his infinity ; or to forming and fostering a gross, natural
and idolatrous idea of the infinite Deity; which is permitted
to no one ; least of aU to Christian phUosophers.
Analogical instances Ulustrate, although they cannot demon
strate. Thus by the comparison of the soul and body it seems
possible to gain some little light respecting the connexion of the
infinite with the world. Apart from the soul there is neither
action, passion, life, nor inteUigence in the body. The imme
diate effluence and minister of the soul is. that analytic, phUo
sophical and distinct rationality by which we are distinguished
from the brutes. All the remaining operations are the property

88 THE INFINITE,
of the soul, although only mediately ; for example, all instincts,
appetites and pleasures : and all confused states of thought and
feeUng, and perceptions of hearing and sight, are equally refer
able to the soul, however they involve the instrumentality of the
bodUy organs. In short, all sensibility, wherever located in the
body, owes its very existence to the soul. The law of action,
passion, or sensation, wherever they exist in any contiguous
organization or volume, requires them to begin at one end, or
perhaps in the middle, and to terminate at the other end.
Nothing can exist within the field of any contiguous and con
nected entity, without coming into relation with its ends or
boundaries : nothing, therefore, can exist within the microcosm
of the body, without being referred to the soul, where it be
comes sensible in the first place, and at last intellectual. And
in the same way nothing whatever can exist in the macrocosm
of the world, but is referred to the Infinite ; without Whom
there is neither existence nor subsistence; for in Him is the
source, cause and end of the whole universe. And yet there is
nothing immediately divine save only that one thing which is
either purely simple or primitive, or next thereto and super
latively perfect. All other things are mediately dirine, because,
both in point of existence and subsistence, they stand related to
their principle mediately, by the way of connexion and con
tiguity. Aud hence without the infinite there would be neither
activity, life, nor intelUgence in any subject in the world, and
above aU, neither existence nor subsistence. But if the reader
should choose to adopt a different argument, proceeding by
induction, he may, if he please, reason of the infinite from
things in the finite sphere. Thus he may say that excepting the
first or smallest substantial there is nothing in reality substantial
in any finite subject ; for whatever exists is composed of the
smallest substantials. Or he may go further, and declare, that
there is nothing in finites but the pure simple, inasmuch as aU
things have had their origin from pure simples. Yet whatever
inferences we make in the way of analogy and comparison from
finites to the infinite, conduce to iUustration indeed, provided
they are not contradictory to the case, but they in no wise help
us to form an analytic induction in a finite and geometrical

AND THB FINAL CAUSE OF CREATION. 89
sense. All modes, and analogues of modes, and of such it is
that analysis is formed, begin in the simple or primitive of
nature, and not in the infinite, in and from whom, nothing can
be said to exist, or issue, immediately, by any mode which is in-
telUgible to us in any geometrical, analogical, rational, or philo
sophical sense whatever.

CHAPTER II.

THE

MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE

BETWEEN THE

SOUL AND THE BODY.

CHAPTER II.

THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN THE SOUL
AND THE BODY:
Is the soul finite, At the outset to an enquiry into this sub-
or infinite ? ject, WC are met by the general questions, of.
Whether the soul be finite, or not ? And whether the animal
spirits, as they are commonly called, be finite, or not? To
which we answer, that no one can deny that the soul is finite,
and that its spirits* are also finite. There is nothing infinite
but the one only God. Whatever is not infinite must be finite,
or analogous to finite. No middle term is possible ; no essence
partaking of both ; but the finite is by itself, and the infinite
by itself, or the nexus between the two is infinite. As then
there is no compounding of the finite and infinite, but the one
is as nothing in relation to the other ; and as there can be but
one infinite, and that one is God ; so the soul cannot be infinite,
because it cannot be God : therefore it is finite.
Ts the soul amena- But another question arises, namely, this : If
bie to laws ? ^}^g gQ^] ^,3 finite, and consequently created by
the infinite, is it amenable to laws ? or is it independent of laws,
and the first being that is without them, but which, on this
very account, by rirtue of its own innate force and activity, can
give laws to lower and grosser things ? We answer that if it
be finite, it cannot be devoid of laws. Apart from quality the
finite has no existence. Quality attaches to all finites as an in
alienable attribute. Whatever becomes finite must, as such,
have a pecuUar character of some kind; which character or
* Spiritus animales=^e spirits of the anima or soul. — (Tr.J

94 the MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
quahty must also be finite, or be finited in a certain manner,
and be amenable to certain laws. The finite devoid of quality
is tantamount to the infinite. Quality cannot exist without
laws, without discrimination from other quaUty, without differ
ence, without distinct capacities for action and passion. More
over if the subject is finite, all the predicates must be so likewise.
And if the finite has modes, then at any rate there are laws by
or according to which it has them ; which alone is sufficient to
shew that it cannot exist without laws, which indeed must be
similarly finite with the subject itself. Nor is there any doubt
that the soul has its own laws, inasmuch as its main quality
consists in its operation on the body and the organs which com
pose it. "Whether, however, this operation is mediate or imme
diate, is a question we do not discuss at present. But as the
soul is so connected to the body that it can communicate its
activity to no other body but its own, and can impress it upon
no other, so at least it is undoubtedly subject to one general
law, namely, that whereby the power of communicating itself
and its quaUties is limited to one particular system. And as it
is thus bound to the body, operating upon one part of it at one
time, upon another at another, and distinctly accommodates its
operations to the formation of the body, and of the parts which
compose it ; and as it is often unable to dispose that body and
those parts at its wiU and pleasure, being on the contrary obliged
and enabled to adapt itself to the position, form, and motion
of the body and the parts : so we see, that not only in itself,
but also in the peculiar laws which it enjoys, it is so endowed
that it can adapt itself to the body, whatever the nature or state
of the latter may be ; and in this respect assume as it were a
different identity, not always confining its operation to one
method ; or as we may even say, it can submit to be formed
afresh by new conditions, and to operate on the members of
the body by itself taking upon it their likeness, or harmonizing
with them ; while yet it operates in such a manner that these
members obey its operation. And thus we perceive that the
soul also has a quale, in that it can be such or such a soul, or
become such or such an one, and operate not only upon parts
like itself, but also upon a succession of other parts which are
less and less so. From which circumstances we can only deduce.

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 95
that it has in it a quaUty, faculty or power of operation, in
conformity wherewith it possesses laws, by which it governs, and
is governed. Nor need we dweU longer on the point. For it is
impossible to deny with reason that the soul is finite, and there
fore has laws of its own, by which it operates upon the body.
Are there any but ^he next question is, are there in finites any
mechanical laws in laws but such as are mechanical, and admit of
fim e mgs . geometrical definition ? We do not here pro
pose the question, whether God could have created a finite nature
different from that which can only be finited by our mechanical
laws, and consequently by geometry. For to God, who is in
finite, nothing is impossible. But seeing that God has chosen
to finite, and to produce a finite nature ; and seeing that that
nature, obviously to the senses, and in its more considerable
parts and effects, is finited in a given manner, in other words,
is mechanical, and subject to the laws of geometry; seeing this,
we say, our question simply is, whether in her least parts nature
be finited otherwise than mechanically or geometrically ? Before
we can answer this enquiry, let us observe how nature is finited
in her gross compounds and her low and remote derivatives.
Now. in all the objects perceived by the senses, we see that there
is nothing but is mechanical, but has mechanical powers for its
laws, which laws are founded in geometry. We remark this in
compounds ; and cannot therefore deny that so far aU is mecha
nical and geometrical; for we either do, or may, gain this pri
mary information by the senses : and on this very account can
have sensual experience of motions, distances, and figures, and
measure them accordingly. We now proceed to those other
existences which are internal to the sphere of the senses, and
of a more subtle nature ; and we affirm that there is nothing
in the gross, large or sensible world, but derives its cause by a
successive process from the subtler world ; for all effects proceed
from their own peculiar causes. But the effect, issuing, as it
does, from its causes, cannot fail to be similar to them; for
it derives its very beginning — its principle of identity — from
those causes. Therefore the very principles of things pass from
causes into effects. And since, as we have seen, aU visible
effects are mechanical, what else can we infer, but that there
is the Uke principle in causes too ; and that even in them the

96 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
mechanical and the geometrical are present ? Were there not
the same principle in causes, in the subtler world, as in effects
and the grosser, the effect must become absolutely unlike its
cause ; or else there must be something in causes over and above
what was manifested, or what came into effects. But this is
neither rational to suppose, nor accordant with experience. An
analogous principle to what we perceive in effects may or should
be involved in causes; a principle which, allowing for the differ
ence of sphere, admits of being inferred from the effect. In
deed there are many things apparent to our senses, whose causes,
causates and effects we see and feel; so that before our senses
even we have both effects and causes. When we are desirous
to reason of causes from experience, and to shew how they
concur to form effects, we can have no better method than by
considering those causes which we see in palpable combination,
and in the same plane, with particular effects; in instances,
that is to say, where both causes and effects are comprized within
one and the same sensual sphere. Now in all these cases we
have observed that there is a mechanism ; i.e. that there is a
mechanism in the effects, and that there is a mechanism in the
causes : and this we continue to observe until the causes become
so subtle, that they at first begin to disappear, and at last ac
tuaUy disappear from our senses. At this last juncture we find
that we desire to deny mechanism to the vanished causes. It
is, however, no sufficient reason against their mechanical nature,
to say that it is not sensible : it may be perceptible notwith
standing, and plausible too, when we reason inductively from
those objects that lie within the province of the senses. To
reason thus would be no more than if we should say, I see that
an animal moves its members, as its head, feet, loins, and limbs ;
and it also moves their different parts : I see mechanical effects
in its larger subdirisions : and I see by dissection that its me
chanical movements depend for the most part on the muscles,
which are themselves adapted and formed to produce a mecha
nism of the kind. We have ocular demonstration of a thousand
figures designed for such motion, and likewise of numberless
species of bodies formed with no other view. We can shew the
arrangement of fibres necessary to produce it. We can take
the muscles and other parts in our hands, and set them in

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 97
motion, during which we shaU see, that the manner of their
motion is not and cannot be different from the actual effect, that
is to say, from the action of the moving member. We may
take a separate fibre or any other part, and demonstrate its
flexibility to the senses, and its power of contracting and dilating
in combination with the associate parts. Therefore we see causes
and effects with our eyes, and recognize mechanism in both,
and geometrical adaptation to mechanical motion. And if we
make use of the microscope, we shall see the lesser parts as we
before saw the larger, and observe in the lesser the causes which
produce the motion and extension of the larger. But when the
pai'ts begin to disappear, and we no longer see them either with
the naked eye or the microscope, what are we then to think ?
Are we to say, because they are hidden from the senses, because
the causes are unseen, that they are not equally subject to me
chanism or geometry ? Granting that a thing is possible because
we can see it, it by no means foUows that its existence is impos
sible because we cannot see it. It is more feasible as well as
logical to suppose, that in the lesser sphere, or in causes of
causes, nature is the same as we see her in causes and effects.
That such is the case we may infer, continuing the same process
of reasoning, from the case of insects, some of which are so
smaU as to be invisible to the naked eye, and yet under the
microscope we not only see them, but also perceive that they
are capable of motion, and possessed of members. Yet if their
members were beyond the power of the microscope, as some
times they are, would it be right to conclude that they had
none ; or that if they had, the members were destitute of mus
cles and flbres, and all analogous structures, whereby the motion
of the parts, and by a just succession, that of the whole, is
provided ? What reason would there be for denial ? The cir
cumstance of not seeing is no reason at all. The seeing and
hearing sense is given us, to comprehend certain effects and
causes ; and a soul is given to these senses, and a reason thereby,
to infer the nature of the causes and effects in those things which
we neither see nor feel.
Is the flnite conceivable apart from extension?
Is the finite con- . . . . ¦• \
ceivabie apart from At this stage it IS particularly necessary to our
extension? argument that this intricate question should

98 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
receive a plain answer. Let us see, therefore, whether every
finite thing must not be natural also; whether every natural'
thing must not have peculiar laws ; and whether aU the laws of
nature, both in her least and greatest, and in her invisible and
risible spheres, must not be mechanical and geometrical. We
have hitherto endeavored to prove by risible causes and effects,
by induction, and in short by reason proceeding on the ground
of analysis, that aU natural connexion between things would
be impossible unless there were the Uke principle in causes, as
in effects, and consequently the hke in causes of causes. Pro
ceeding onwards let us take any finite, for every created thing
is finite, every natural thing is finite : and the question wUl be,
whether every finite is natural, and natural in the same sense
as, and with the same qualities that we recognize in, the risible
world ? Tell me then, is it possible to conceive the finite without
extension? Were it devoid of extension, and of all analogy
with extension, must it not be infinite ? At any rate can you
conceive that there is anything devoid of all analogy, or resem
blance of the kind, and which derives absolutely nothing from
extension ? Whatever is finite, and everything natural is finite,
is utterly inconceivable without extension ; at all events without
analogy or connexion with extension. I here speak naturally,
for it would be against aU reason to fly at once to the infinite
while professing to investigate nature ; the more especiaUy as
we have causes of causes in the flnite sphere, and as nature
once for aU has been made flnite by the infinite. However, even
granting a finite that is not extended ; granting the possibility of
a flnite whose peculiar nature does not lie in its precise extension,
yet still it is undeniable that it must involve something like exten
sion ; otherwise it could neither act with, nor in, nor upon exten
sion. But let us willingly adopt the position, that everything is
extended in proportion as it is finite ; bearing in mind that we
are now speaking of substances. In proportion, then, as it is ex
tended, in the same proportion it occupies space ; which be it as
small as you please, stiU is space notwithstanding. This being
the case, it is inconceivable without attributes; for nothing
finite is without them ; which attributes indeed can in no way
be separated from their subject. If the subject be extended,
one of its attributes must consist in the possession of figure or

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 99
form. Extension or space without form is a nonentity, or a
notion contrary to reason. Extension combined with form is a
geometrical subject. Geometry simply considers extensions and
spaces with particular forms, or forms in their subjects. But
can there be form in extension without its having a geometrical
import, considering that the extension is finite ? In proportion
therefore as the subject is extended, it is also formal, or contains
the element of form ; and in proportion as it is extended and
formed, it is also geometrical. Let us now proceed to the mode
or motion of a formed portion of extension. Motion may exist
in any space or extension if the latter has parts, in which case
a motion of the parts is possible to a given place in the exten
sion; i.e. a local motion of the parts. If the extension has no
parts and still undergoes motion, in this case the formed exten
sion must itself move from place to place. If it consists of
parts, and all the parts compose the given extension, and all,
therefore, move together, in this event we have a motion of the
whole. In short, the extension may undergo motion either as
regards the parts or the whole. And if it undergoes motion in
any way, the predicament is mechanical. The motion of an
extension, of whatever description the motion is, cannot be
other than mechanical; for mechanism embraces all motions,
and aU the forces resulting from them; no matter what their
nature is, prorided motion be present at all ; or mode be pre
sent, which cannot take place but by motion : consequently the
fact of motion and mode is mechanical. Now again comes the
question. Whether the laws of motion affecting the simpler and
smaUer bodies be as the laws of motion affecting the larger ; be,
in one word, mechanical ? And here we affirm generally, that
there can be no motion of an extension, or of any parts in an
extension, but such as comes under the denomination of me
chanical; for aU mobiUty is mechanical. But if the subject
moves, or is capable of motion, and thereby is mechanical, then
we ask, can motion be considered apart from figure ? Assuredly
it would be contrary to reason. so to consider it. If the path of
the motion be a straight Une, still the predicament is geome
trical, in so far as a linear or straight progression is involved in
the case. By the same rule, if the motion be circular, the
result is geometrical, and figured likewise. If the motion take
h2

100 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
any other course or shape, provided only it passes from one
place to another, this is at once tantamount to its passing from
one boundary to another, and thus the motion becomes geome
trical or figured. We may conclude from these and a multitude
of other arguments, that there is nothing in the nature of
things, — in so far as their nature is finite, and endowed with
quaUties and modes, — but has its own peculiar laws ; and like
wise that in our natural sphere, — in man as a natural being, —
there are no laws possible but what are geometrical and me
chanical. Is the soul a pure But as WC are treating of the soul, let us see
simple? whether we can rightfully conceive of it as a
pure activity ; as a simple* of such a nature as to be devoid of
geometry and mechanism. For if it be a pure simple, it admits
of no degrees. The essence of the pure. simple Ues in absence
of parts, in consequence of which it is destitute of extension,
space, dimension and figure. If the simplicity be so preeminent
as to exclude all further simplici^, it must of course be wanting
in parts, space and figure. Where parts are present in a simple,
we have at once a simpler ; each part . being simpler ; wherefore
the pure simple has no parts. And if it have no parts, and
admit of no deeper simplicity, then it is an unlimited essence,
without end or boundaries ; unless we choose to say, that it has
one limit or boundary, and only one, inasmuch as it has the
power of giving Umits or boundaries to compounds. For every
portion of extension arises from what is less extended, and at
length from what is simple or not extended. In like manner
every figured subject arises from what is simple or not figured,
in which nothing but simplicity is conceivable. Nor can a
simple of this kind, involving neither parts nor extension, be
denominated finite ; for there are boundaries in the finite ; those,
namely, by which it is finited or limited. With such a simple,
the soul, which is finite, and bound in allegiance to finite laws,
bears no analogy. This pure simple, being devoid of parts, is
indivisible ; and to diride it, is to annihUate it ; for when no

* Respectmg the terms simple, active, finite, element, &c., the reader is referred
to the author's Principia. By consulting the Index to that work, he will obtain an
insight into the usage of these and similar terms in the present Treatise.— f'TV.J

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 101
parts enter an essence, its division or partition amounts to anni
hilation. And as there are no parts and no substantiality to
undergo motion, or oppose resistance; and consequently no
moments or degrees; hence the annihilation as weU as the
origin must be conceived as instantaneous. Whence again it
follows that this simple cannot possibly involve anything of the
finite. If it did, it could not be instantaneous, or without
quality or mode as regards its origin. And if it be finite, it
must be so through a mode, and must have become so through
a particular quaUty ; otherwise it could never communicate qua
lity to other things, or operate through modes upon remote
derivations of finites. And if in its very essence there be
nothing of the kind, nothing of modification, then it must have
arisen immediately from the infinite, and it must be a simple,
which is neither infinite nor finite. It follows that it is not
identical with the soul, which at all events, by common confes
sion, is finite, and possesses laws and modes within it and with
out it.
Is the soul a aim. But as the soul is thought to be a pure and
pie finite? simple actirity, and at the same time to be
finite, let us see whether it is identical or not with the simple
finite. The simple finite is not the same as the pure simple,
inasmuch as it is finite, which the pure simple is not. And
being finite, it is of course made so by constituents simpler than
itseK The before-mentioned simple is therefore simpler than
it, and consequently the first finite is relatively compound. If
simpler things than it exist, then it cannot be purely simple,
because it admits a higher simphcity. Thus the simple finite
supposes a mode by which it is finite ; it supposes boundaries to
which it is limited; ends for which it is finited; it supposes a
peculiar nature through which it is finited, and this, in its own
contradistinctive manner. And as the pure simple is devoid of
parts, extension, space and figure, and yet parts, extensions,
spaces and figures had issued from it ; so this simple finite could
not originate from any other source than the pure simples,
which made it finite. On this account the simple finite cannot
be said to be altogether devoid of parts, since the simpler
grounds may be conceived to be its parts, or to be such as to
yield or generate parts, either by the process of multiplication

102 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
or some other mode. Therefore it cannot be regarded as entirely
without extension and space, though it is the least and smaUest
thing in space, the very smaUest possible substantial or natural
principle. Nor can it be said to be indirisible, for it admits of
division into the simpler grounds we have before spoken of, and
therefore may be dirided without being annihilated. In a word,
before it obtains its boundaries, it obeys modes in its origin;
and consequently in its existence and subsistence also. Can the
soul, then, be a simple finite of this kind ? The soul cannot
be conceived apart from actirity. Its essence consists in its
activity; in its ability to act upon the parts of the body; and
of its own body exclusively. Unless therefore we regard acti
vity as involved in the simple finite, the latter is not identical
with the soul. The actirity of the pure simples in such finite,
must either be an activity among the parts constituting it, or
else an activity of the whole. If internal or among the parts,
it would not follow that there was any actirity among other
parts extraneous to itself. If, on the other hand, it be an ac
tivity of the whole, this cannot be conceived without actirity in
place, or local motion. Without local motion, no force or action
can be exerted on adjoining bodies, and no change can be pro
duced in them. If the activity were simply effort to motion,
no bodily action or force would ensue, that is to say, unless the
effort resulted in local motion. We have therefore to conceive
that the simple finite is active not only intrinsically or in its
parts, but also as a whole. If then there be activity both of the
parts and the whole, and that of the latter be local, the motion
itself at once becomes finite, not only as taking effect from one
place to another, but also because the essential which undergoes
the motion is finite. No essential finite can produce a pure or
total motion. Action supposes not only force or effort, but also
velocity and time. Therefore the actirity in this least substan
tial, is finite, and in nowise pure or total. Purity exists in the
pure simple alone.
Is there passivity ^^^^ assuming that the soul is a simple, a
in the soul as well as pure, and a most perfect active ; finite, however.
activiti/ ? J , ,
in its simphcity, purity and perfection ; it re
mains to be seen how this predication would coincide with its
essence and attributes. If the activity of the soul consists in

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 103
these, it must necessarily be such that it can act upon the parts
of its own body exclusively ; that it can suffer and receive the
motions or modes arising from the body ; that it can dispose or
adapt itself thereto ; and afterwards reflect them, and meet the
forces acting upon it by a corresponding reaction, so as to be
adapted at least to produce such modes, and this, within the
sphere and space of the bodUy system. If the soul were merely
an active of this kind, it might indeed act, but it could not be
in itself sentient of the actions of the body, nor dispose itself
for reception at the same time as for action, nor modify itself
to the different parts of the body. The complement of its
essence requires then something beyond pure activity ; in short,
a passive principle, adequate to enclose or shut its actives in a
deflnite space, or, if we may use the expression, in a passive
expanse; whereby it may not only be enabled to act on the
body, but also to receive the actions arising from the body;
also to adapt itself to the variety of modes, and reflect them
back again ; a passive principle, we repeat, in which the soul
may be able to exert its actuality and power ; and which, in a
word, will ensure passirity to the soul as well as actirity. In
this manner the soul is a sentient subject not only during the
life in which it is conjoined with the body, but even when it is
out of the body : after its release from which, it remains capable
of doing and suffering stUl, of action and passion, of perceiring
degrees in deUght, and of living without the possibUity of dis
sipation. But none of these circumstances can be conceived
without passives in the soul ; nor passives without an expanse ;
nor an expanse without a figure; nor active and passive to
gether without space and extension ; nor the required extension
without elasticity; nor consummate, genuine and primitive
elasticity without actives enclosed or shut in a given expanse ;
actives which wUl act perpetually upon the expanse ; but are in
capable of forming a contiguum like that produced by ele
mentary particles ; also of occupying place, or capable only of
occupying such place as the expanse allows ; actives to whose
motions the predicates of upwards and downwards are inappli
cable, but which act at all angles and in all directions, and
cannot therefore be said to resist, but simply to act; not to

104 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
mention a number of other predications, on which we shall
dweU at another opportunity*

§IL
Is the soul bound ^c uow come to the final question, viz.,
by geometrical and Whether or not the soul be bound by geome-
mec anica aws . ^-^q^I and mechanical laws ; that is to say. Does
it exist, subsist, rest, move, and operate on the parts of the
body, mechanically and geometricaUy; or the reverse? And
here it is necessary to recur to the prerious question, and again
ask whether the soul be finite, or not ; whether it be created,
or not ? The affirmative of this is not denied ; for no one can
declare, — no one can have any motive so far to contradict reason
as to declare, that the soul is other than finite. For it is cre
ated ; it dweUs in the world ; in this respect it is a part of the
world ; it operates in a finite manner upon the natural parts or
members of the body, i.e. upon the body ; inasmuch as the body
upon which it operates is composed of parts. As surely there
fore as it is created, and dwells in the world, and exerts its
actions upon confessedly corporeal and natural parts ; so surely
must it be admitted to be finite. A further question now sug
gests itself, namely. Is the soul natural, or not ; that is to say,
is it a part of nature, a part among other parts ? We answer
this in the same manner as the prerious question. As the soul
is created and finite, and as God created the finite, that is,
nature, hence the soul cannot be otherwise than in nature.
But is it natural, or not ? It is clear, indeed, that it is in
nature, and was sent into nature by God together with the
world, and that therefore it is one among the parts of the cre
ated world ; also that it is not without or beyond the world, and
that it is not infinite ; that it admits of being enclosed within
the finite, that is, within the body; and that therefore it is
attached to the parts of the body. Were it infinite, the latter
circumstance would be impossible, but the soul would be a
* For information on this subject, see the Index to the Principia, under the
head Active. — (Tr.)

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 105
separate essence from the corporeal parts, and would lie both
without and within the body. It is, however, clear from expe
rience altogether apart from reasoning, that the soul is a real
constituent part in the body, and is attached to the body, and
consequently is not infinite, but limited to the body ; and there
fore one of the natural parts in the body. And thus we obtain
a directly affirmative answer to the enquiry, Whether the soul
is a part among the physical constituents of the human body.
As then the soul is natural or physical, is it simply under
the laws of nature ? or has it other laws of which we are, and
for ever will remain, in profound ignorance ? We answer that
according to our former conclusion, whatever is natural must
come under finite laws ; otherwise it would not be finite, but
infinite : therefore the soul is under laws, and can and must
operate according to them. But what laws ? Have we a right
to suppose that we can never penetrate them ? On the contrary
we may recollect that we have proved above, that our natural or
physical sphere admits of no other than the very laws which
appear in actual effects, of no other than geometrical and me
chanical laws ; geometrical in regard to figure and space ; me
chanical in regard to motion and force. If any one can point
out to me, — I wUl not insist upon demonstration, — but if any
one can point out, how any other laws than these are possible
in our finite system, I will cede the whole argument. But as it
is impossible to conceive any finite existence without extension ;
or extension without form ; or extension and form together,
where motion is performed, without mechanism ; or mechanism
without figure ; so I am utterly at a loss to know how it can be
shewn that there are any other rules or laws of nature beyond
such as are geometrical and mechanical. And when I assert the
coexistence of mechanism and figure, it wUl in no way impede
the argument, if the reader shaU declare that he can conceive
many things without extension; that he can conceive modes,
modifications, contingencies, time and the like. For I assert
that he cannot conceive any of these in the abstract, or apart
from extension, for that they all are produced by the modifica
tions or motions of extension; and therefore are referable to
finite extension, together with all in them that comes under the
designation of succession, degrees and moments : hence they

106 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
too are in this respect extended. I am, however, well aware
that any one who chooses to deny extension, denies also the
geometry and mechanism of nature. But then whoever denies
extension, denies the finite also. If, however, he can shew how
the finite may stUl exist, without extension, succession, degrees,
moments, and similar predicates ; and that it does not take its
rise from extension, I will cheerfully pass over to his opinion.
But if the soul be created, finite and natural, (for God would
never create two kinds of finites or two naturals, unless to
concur to some similar end, in which riew they may be con
sidered together as one natural,) and subject moreover to the
laws of nature, then there is no escape from the consequence,
that it is subject also to mechanical and geometrical laws.
The comparison of But if the soul is mechanical and geome-
*cLTs"'iZ' trical, it may be difficult perhaps to explain
sense justifiable ? many of its faculties, as imagination, percep
tion, the power of conclusion, memory, self-consciousness as it
is termed, the ideas of reflexion, &c., &c. On this subject,
however, we would observe, that we may receive at all events
some Uttle light from the vast field of the animal kingdom ;*
and also from the subjects of the brute creation, which both
have life, and breath, and animal functions, and in which we
find senses similar to our own, as well as similar motions, and
a similar configuration of the parts and the whole. It is true
we do not find in them refiexion, imagination, memory, or
rational analyses such as we perceive in ourselves : but never
theless we see parallel traces of these faculties. At the very
least we may remark in animals some similar endowments, some
confused and rude symptoms of our own powers ; some endow
ments which we are content to denominate natural instincts,
considering them as an organic condition, and in point of fact
as a machine. If then we conceive these predicates as more
pure, perfect and distinct in man — if we conceive that all these
analogous and parallel faculties in him exist with reference to a
more distinct, perfect and pure principle or end, in a word, to
a soul; whose comparative distinctness, perfection and purity
* By the animal kingdom the author appears here, as in his other works, to
mean the human body exclusively : see our Introductory Remarks to the Economy
of the Animal Kingdom, p. xxxii. — (Tr.)

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 107
do not make it any the less mechanical in its purity and perfec
tions ; in this case mere difference of perfection does not involve
the putting aside of aU the laws which exist in the purer field
of mechanics, and in the purer world. So that if the reader
would speak of the soul by comparison with machines, I have
no objection to respond in the same tone ; only I cannot allow
the comparison with inanimate, but with animate machines.
But on this subject I shall speak in detail in the work to which
this essay is preUminary.
Is the soul im- But as we declare that the soul is subject to
mortal? mechanical or geometrical laws, it may be
thought that it is not spiritual but material, and therefore will
die with the body. Such a view, however, can only arise from
a very gross idea of the purer mechanism : otherwise it could
never be supposed that the soul will perish like the gross mate
riality and organization of the present body. For if we consider
that on the one hand we have a gross, imperfect and mutable
world, and on the other a relatively pure, perfect and immutable
world, it will not seem Ukely that that finer world, near, by its
very conditions, to the primitive substance, should perish with
the grosser. Whatever is obnoxious to destruction and change,
is on this account finite and substantial, or material ; and has
derived its mutability and imperfection successively, by its low-
ness and remoteness in the scale of creation. But the purer
field — the finer, purer and more perfect world — is not thus ob
noxious to change, nor thus imperfect. We should seem to go
contrary to the Infinite, and to repugn the divine essence, if we
said that the purer sphere, and the souls which inhabit it, were
subject to those casualties of death, change and transformation,
which affect the grosser. Whence we have reason to conclude,
that the superlatively perfect finite, i.e. whatever is most per
fectly finited, and dwells at the same time in the purer world,
by God's grace is secure from destruction, and wUl never taste
of death. For, as we before said, its immutability is in direct
proportion to its perfection and purity. And if the soul be a
portion of that world, then the most thorough self-similarity
must pervade it and aU its parts, in whatever they do or suffer.
And if we direct our attention to the mechanism of those subtle
parts of which the soul is one, we shaU see that it cannot die

108 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
without these minutest parts themselves undergoing destruction
or annihilation : we shall see that it cannot die though the planet
with its water and earth should perish ; nor though the air nor
the ether should perish. But were nature's subtlest sphere to
perish, then not only would the whole finite universe, of which
the soul is a part, be annihUated, but aU things would return
to nothing. The soul is immortal, therefore, by the grace of
God, and by the same grace the universe is preserved from
annihUation. There is no occasion to say more. In our in
tended Work we shall demonstrate the point as clearly as we are
able, and shew that the soul is perfectly, and in the high sense,
purely mechanical, and that it is immortal, and cannot perish
without the universe be annihilated : likewise that it has been
so created and formed as to begin to live in the body, yet never
to die ; and that it is naturaUy impossible that it should die ;
and that it can be harmed neither by fire, nor by air, nor by
ether, nor even by any elements subtler still.
We said above, that philosophers have hitherto regarded the
soul as a thing utterly and preeminently unknown, and destined
so to continue to the end of the world, or at any rate till death,
when the soul being released from the body may perhaps at
last come to know itself, as we know ourselves, by the senses.
Haring regarded it in this light, and yet observing that it ope
rates upon our mechanical organization just as one mechanical
thing operates upon another, and concluding from this that the
body and the soul must be so connected with each other that
the former can do nothing without the latter, and without in
fact previously referring aU its intended actions to the soul as a
centre ; and seeing also that the will does not depend upon the
body singly, but also upon the soul, in fact upon a reason and
resolution the product of the two : seeing, I say, such a com
bined system of operations, the philosophers were unable to
separate the one from the other, or to consider them as separate
subjects, without supposing a medium partaking of both, this
medium being the animal spirits, to perform the behests of both
as ministers and emissaries in all parts of the system, and so
not only to dispose but to urge the muscles and fibres to com
press or relax the organs by one motion or another. It was on
this account that they caUed these emissaries, " spirits," adding

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 109
also the predicate, " animal," so as to have some vrords to ex
press the medium, and at the same time to convey that these
spirits were as thoroughly unknown as the spirit of man apart
from the body. They selected the expression because they
could not deny the nexus, and yet were in the dark as to its
nature. They saw, however, that the one operated on the other
as passive on active, or as fire operates upon material bodies ; or
as any other agent or efficient power operates upon anything
for the production of effects. Nevertheless they denied that
the animal spirits operate by any mechanism, or by any other
but unknown laws foreign to all common and known mechanics.
And whenever they spoke of the mutual operation of the soul
and the body, they chose to illustrate it by a number of dis
tinctions, and by terms borrowed from the scholastic philosophy :
though nevertheless the whole matter remained equaUy un
known as at the beginning to both their readers and themselves.
The conclusion was, that the active principle must be not ma
terial but spiritual, and that the spiritual principle must have
the power to act.
Mechanical laws But what occasiou is there to set ourselves
S^ctCTm^cl ^P ^g^i^st tbe laws introduced, and given to
as any other laws, nature by the infinite ? Why may not the
highest degree of perfection exist in them ? Is a thing imperfect
because it is caUed mechanical or geometrical ? Are not the
laws of mechanics and geometry derived from the infinite?
Why should we reject them on the ground of inadequacy when
it has pleased the infinite to produce by them effects perceptible
to the senses ? Why may they not involve a power of the same
kind as those other laws which we suppose unknown, whereby
the soul is governed ? Why are we to leave our unknown quan
tity to posterity, which perhaps will not consider it as unknown ?
Why should we not be beforehand in the matter, and penetrate
it with our science in the present age ? We are like the rude
and uninstmcted inhabitants of some country, who are igno
rant of the earth's boundaries, and do not even know that
it has any, and although they see that the land does not end
with their own parish, they think it must surely cease at no
great distance beyond. And when in course of time they travel
onwards, and come to some lake, or to the shores of the ocean,
they cry out that they have found the end of the earth. Their

110 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
posterity, however, haring learnt the art of narigation, has
found by experience that the end is not there ; and at last they
discover that the earth is round or oval, and that therefore they
can circumnarigate the entire terraqueous globe. In short the
chUdren are more enUghtened than the parents, and know the
very thing which the parents declai'ed unknowable, and gave
up accordingly; and so they laugh at the simplicity of their
forefathers. The same progress is exempUfied in anatomy. For
instance it used anciently to be thought, that the members of
the body moved in some unknown way; that the ear heard in
an unknown way, and that sound consisted in the organs of
hearing, and sight, in the external organs of sight. Later en
quirers, however, penetrated deeper, and discovered not only
that sound arises from the undulation of the air, but also that
the ear contains instruments of mechanical construction for
receiving the undulation, and conveying it inwards. And in
still more recent times the microscope has added new sharpness
to the eye, and enabled our anatomists to discover parts which
were altogether unknown to their predecessors. Moreover the
more acute phUosophers have made out, that neither hearing
nor sight have a real existence until the undulation reaches the
inner parts, and the senses themselves are taken into fellowship
with the soul. Thus learning encreases by slow degrees.
And as the learned world is continually engaged in exploring
the mysteries of nature by experiment, there is no reason to
despair of further progress, or of their ultimately reaching the
soul, so as at all events to judge of its mechanical operation.
Inasmuch then as the sciences are diving continually deeper
into the mysteries of nature, and as continually detecting a
resemblance between the substances of the subtler and grosser
worlds, it seems just to believe that they may one day attain
to knowledge on even this abstruse subject. And why not at
the present day ? so as to forestall our posterity, and prevent
them from laughing at us as we ourselves now laugh at some of
the old philosophers.
From ignorance ^® "^^ "^^t indulge in a recapitulation of the
of the state of the several Opinions which have obtained on the
pass to a denial of human soul ; for although nearly all the philo-
its existence. sophcrs have considered it as a preeminently
unknown essence, still they have been anxious, by one means

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. Ill
or another, to demonstrate its connexion with the body. For
when we are busied with the unknown, and do not wish to ac
knowledge its resemblance to the known, the result must be,
that opinions and conclusions will arise which demonstrate
nothing at all. On this account the greater number of phUoso
phers swear by the animal spirits, explaining all the motions of
the body by them, the soul, however, having command over them,
and they executing its behests, and running hither and thither
in the system, to perform their duties as servants for their mis
tress and queen. Some thinkers, however, and these not a few,
although far from choosing to commit their sentiments to
paper, privately and quietly consider, that doubt hangs upon
the whole question of the soul, and that its very existence is
problematical ; for they see that it is impossible to regard it as a
mistress sitting in her high chamber, with the animal spirits
standing around her like servants, and fljdng quick as air to do
her bidding : so that in fact they neither acknowledge the queen
nor her government. Desirous, therefore, to explore the nature
of the soul by reasoning, but unable to come to any solution,
they leave it doubtful altogether. And as the passage is easy
and short from doubt or ignorance to denial, so they tacitly
deny the soul, and declare the materiality of whatever exists in
the. body, and of consequence the mortality also. Indeed, many
half-philosophers rendered the subject one of doubt for them
selves, until their position became so critical, that the faintest
gust of reasoning was sufficient to tumble them into negative
opinions. For when we are perfectly ignorant of anything, we
naturally either recognize it as unknown, or else, if the clearest
case be not made out for it, we rest in doubt and unbeUef, per
suaded by circumstances to the latter course. Moreover, when
our reasoners consider the animal creation, they see that brutes
have senses equally with man, and enjoy, in common with our
selves, the endowments of seeing, hearing, tasting, smelling,
&c., &c. The interiors of their bodies also present nearly the
same construction of parts, the same mechanism of organs.
They have a cerebrum and a medulla oblongata, cerebral mem
branes, cortical and medullary substances, arteries and veins :
in short, to the senses of such reasoners, animals have all things
almost the same as ourselves. And what is more, some animals

112 TUE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
have acuter senses of sight, hearing and smeU, than man. And
when to this it is added, that something very like reasoning or
understanding is observable in brutes, and furthermore that
some men are but Uttle different from brutes, they can no
longer refrain from what to them is the irresistible conclusion,
either that animals have souls of some kind, or else that men
are Uke animals, only in some respects more perfect, and of
consequence that they may die Uke animals, and human souls
undergo dissipation and annihilation. Nor is it wonderful if
some thinkers have fallen headlong into this conclusion, consi
dering their ignorance of the nature of the soul.
The soul is im- I^j howcvcr, they had thought, that the end
mortal. for which the world was created is divine, or is
for the infinite in the first place ; and that man is the ultimate
effect, by which this end may be obtained ; and that a soul is
given him which in conjunction with the body has the preroga
tive of concluding, and by rirtue of revelation, although not of
itself as a finite creature, of beUering that there is a God, and
that He is infinite : and that in this way there is somewhat of
the dirinity in man : and if they had chosen to infer in conse
quence, that man is in this respect a partaker of the final cause;
and that the soul, as a part of the purer world and nature, is,
by the bond of the dirine communication, comparatively near
to the most perfect* of things ; and thus can not only love the
Infinite, but also desire a more perfect state : in short, if after
forming certain conclusions, they had chosen to carry the argu
ment into a higher sphere, they would clearly never have fallen
into the error we have mentioned. Rather would they have
seen, and their reason confirmed, that this ultimate effect, viz.,
man, who can acknowledge God, and through love feel himself
in the bond of the final cause, — who, therefore, has in him
God's final cause, — can never die, but is for ever a partaker of

* We presume that by the term the most perfect, the author here means the
natural minimum, the point, the seed of the world, of which he treats at consider
able length hoth in this work and in the Principia. It is to be borne in mmd, that
there is a difference between the most perfect, or ihe superlatively perfect, and the
absolutely perfect. The former is the highest of three degrees of comparison ; the
beginning of the series of finite perfections : the latter is infinite, and beyond com
parison and series. — (Tr.)

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 113
the final cause, and therein, of the infinite ; in a word, a per
manent existence: and nothing whatever could have induced
them to believe, that this final cause would desert man at the
hour of death; which indeed would be to accuse the infinite,
whose cause it is, of finiteness or imperfection. And the same
conclusion comes palpably before us with aU the force of fact,
from the circumstance that the divine end, which is only ob
tained by undoubting faith in God, brings with it such a bond
between the infinite and the soul, that whoever undoubtingly
believes in the existence of God, also undoubtingly believes in
the immortality of the soul; whUe on the other hand, those
who do not believe in the infinite, also do not believe in the
immortaUty of the soul; but think finitely of both: which
shews that the effect of faith is in this respect a sign of the
connexion between the infinite and the soul, insomuch that no
one can really believe the one without believing the other ; or
deny the one without soon denying the other. We may there
fore conclude, that the immortaUty of the soul is equally certain
with the existence of God ; and that the divine end cannot fail
to have immortality with it, seeing that true faith implies a
belief in immortality.
We may also deduce aud conclude analytically and rationally
from the nexus of natural beings and things in the world, that
the soul or subtlest part of the body must be immortal. For as
the soul is in the purer and more perfect realm of nature, and
the body in the less perfect, it follows that the soul cannot be
obnoxious to change like the grosser bodily parts ; and that it
resembles the more immutable nature, as it has the power both
to act and suffer, and to conform in every manner to the enti
ties of that sphere, so as like them to enjoy the most complete
immunity from change. But the immortality of the soul is
declared by facts presented in our very bodies. For love, with
its delicious sense, which is purer as the nature is purer, arises
simply from the harmonious connexion of natural parts. It is
afterwards derived per nexum into the grosser parts of the body,
that is to say, into the less perfect sphere of the animal world,
where it has again the same end, namely, of conferring perpe
tual Ufe in a certain sense on the body also. But as this is
against the nature of that mutable world of which the body is a

114 THE MECHANISM OP THE INTERCOURSE
part, so the body aims at perpetuity by the propagation of
offspring, and the representation of itself in another being aris
ing from it, in whom it may in a manner begin to live when
itself surceases. This could never proceed from the body unless
the cause and source preexisted in the soul; nor could it be
derived from the soul into the body save by connexion and con
tiguity, and consequently by supreme delight. As we may see
from the consideration, that the soul concurs to obtain this end,
a particle being veritably taken from it : so that in truth we
know from the effect what is involved in the cause ; from the
last end what lies in the first ; from the body what lies in the
soul; namely, that in the body, by the instinct of the soul, a
similar estate is desired to that which there is in the soul. And
it is clear that the aspiration to this end is of a deeper and more
sublime nature in man than in other living creatures, inasmuch
as he not only enjoys the delights of propagating and rearing
his offspring, but has also a perennial desire of living in the
persons of his sons to remote posterity ; whence it is seldom that
parental love is extinguished, but encreases rather in descending
to children's children. Not so, however, in the brute creation.
For the same reason it is, that noble minds desire to be held in
everlasting remembrance, and pant for fame and glory, for per
petual life in the annals of the race, their virtues aspiring to
the integrity and perfection of a higher state, an antepast of
which they already furnish ; and to gain it, they are often im
pelled, sometimes in despite of the shrinking body, through
death itself and contempt of all other pleasures ; content if in
this way the soul can give or impart to its beloved body what
itself possesses. Still more is immortality evidenced by the
fact, that those who are in the true bond of the divine end, or
have a true acknowledgment and love of God, desire nothing
more strongly than the immortal estate of the soul, and count
nothing of less value than the mortal estate of the body ; nowise
fearing, but many times wishing, the death and end of the
body; a condition of mind which can only proceed from the
soul already perennially living in the bond of the divine end,
and fearing lest aught should happen through the body to de
prive it by any possibility of that high prerogative. Thus we
may argue from effects to causes by the analytic method with

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY, 115
good certainty ; and by what we know, arrive at a knowledge of
the unknown of which we are in search. Nothing happens in
the grosser world but its principles lie in the subtler, together
with the causes which determine it to occur in its own distinc
tive manner ; nor is there a single end in the grosser world but
respects an end in the subtler ; although the latter end is only a
mean to the essential end in the most pure being.
Furthermore, in demonstrating the immortality of the soiU,
we may infer from the infinite to the soul, as from the soul to
the body ; that is to say, from the connexion between the infi
nite and the soul, as from the connexion between the soul and
the body : for as we said before, from connexion love imme
diately arises, or that delight which is felt in love, in other
words, in the harmonious conjunction of parts and modes in
the world. The love or friendship between the body and the
soul, as between the soul and the infinite, Ues entirely in the
connexion. It is the sign and effect of love, for the first to
consider the second as itself, for the one to regard the other as
its own, or to see its Ukeness in the other ; for unconsciously it
feels in the other, by connexion of contiguity, the same as in
itself. And since the love of self is the nearest and the strong
est, hence what it feels delightful and pleasant in itself, it earn
estly desires in its object as another self; and loves therefore
to assign and to give to it what itself possesses as an essential
good ; or longs to find in what is connected with it the same or
the hke state as it has in itself : and so the soul wishes for the
body, the same purity, perfection, and perpetuity which it pos
sesses itself. Those then who are in the nexus or bond of the
divine end, — which bond is perceived in the delights of the love
of God, — cannot but be reciprocally in God's love, inasmuch as
they are in the divine nexus ; nor consequently can His love
towards the soul be other than similar in this respect to the love
of the soul towards its best beloved, because its most united,
friend, the body ; wherefore it must infinitely wish the soul to
be his Ukeness ; and love to assign and to give to the soul what
itself possesses, that is to say, perpetuity and immortaUty. If
the infinite did not respect as its own the finite which is con
nected with it, particularly in that essential particular, of mak
ing the soul Uke itself in immortaUty, then there would be no
I 2

116 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
element of infinity or absolute purity in God's love toward man,
but, on the contrary, a something repugnant to the infinite.
For did God admit aught of mutability in his likeness, or in the
being connected with him, there would certainly be something
in his love that he himself does not possess, or that is contrary
to him ; that is, which is not his likeness but his unlikeness :
this, however, even in the natural sphere, can only exist towards
objects which are unconnected or inimical. But this love can
only extend to the parts of the purer world, i.e. to the soul ;
and not to the parts of the comparatively impure and imperfect
world, or to the body ; which cannot be otherwise in the divine
nexus than through the soul, as both soul and body cannot be
otherwise in the same than through the infinite nexus of the
only-begotten Son. Nevertheless, if the body could be so com
pletely governed by its purer essence, the soul, as readily to
obey its every intimation and command, in this case the very
body might be considered as a part of the purer world, and
might enjoy the same immortality and integrity as the soul. It
seems likely that this was the state of the first man, formed, as
he was, in correlation to all the harmony of the world, and that
in him all the grosser parts admitted of being ruled by the soul,
and consequently with it could enjoy immortaUty. But when
this integrity and perfection in the connexion between the soul
and the body, and therefore in the connexion between God and
the soul, had perished, and afterwards degeneration had natu
rally ensued in the posterity of Adam, then of consequence the
body could no longer be considered as a part of the pure and
perfect, but of the imperfect world : and so mutability and mor
tality invaded what was once immutable and immortal ; prero
gatives, however, which may possibly be regained if the soul
be clothed with a body which is not immediately inherited in
the hitherto natural manner from an imperfect parent.
In what sense the subtle world is more perfect than the
gross, is plain from the analogy of all the parts and modes
which enter into the compounds of the former sphere. For the
subtler a part is, and the nearer to its simple, the less is it sub
ject to modification ; and in the sarae proportion, the more like
and homogeneous is one part to another : and the more the
parts are similar, the more perfect are they both in substance

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 117
and mode; and hence aU parts thus homogeneous aspire with
comparative purity to subsistence and perpetuity in their figure
and motion. And thus the entities of the subtler world, among
which the soul is one part, become less obnoxious to mutabUity :
and can be harmed neither by their likes, nor by any heteroge
neous presences, for which indeed there is no room ; nor yet by
grosser matters, which cannot act immediately upon these subtle
parts, or if haply they do, cannot disturb their connexion with
their fellows which are so similar to themselves.
But probably there are some readers who will not allow this,
but will persevere in their own unbelieving imaginations, and
require to perceive the soul as they perceive the objects of sight
and hearing, and to comprehend truth by sense, and will not be
even then satisfied unless they can thrust their hands into the
prints of the nails. My end, therefore, at present is, specially
to demonstrate, to the best of my ability, the nature and pro
perties of the soul, and then to shew from these endowments
that it can never die without aU nature be annihilated : and
such being my end, I do not see how any one, unless indeed
some singularly obtuse priestling, can disapprove of the under
taking. § IV.
Let us now enquire in a general manner into the nexus
between the soul and the body, and into the operation of the
one upon the other, with a view to see in what its mechanism
consists. We say, in a general manner, for if all the details of
the subject were to be set forth specially, we should rather be
entering on the work of years than of a month, and we should
not be writing one book, but a series of volumes. For to prove
all our points, we should have to take account of all that ana
tomy has discovered in the body, and of all that we know spe
cially, and by experience, of the understanding, the memory,
the will and the affections. Besides which we should be bound
to avail ourselves of both the mechanism and geometry of these
as weU as of all other parts by whose connexion effects are
manifested. This would require more time and space than
we can bestow in these preliminaries, at any rate so to draw

118 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
them out, that their truth should be reasonably plain. We wiU
here, therefore, present only a general idea, so as to enable
the reader to judge in a general manner, antecedently to demon
stration, at least whether what we say be agreeable to reason, or
the contrary.
There is no con- I. And the first general proposition we would
li^UeZithout'natural ^t^te is, that aU couuexiou supposes contiguity,
contiguity. and that no connexion can be conceived or given
without contiguity. Wherever there is connexion, there must
be ends, and wherever there are ends, there must be means
also. Moreover there is no connexion unless the ends are con
nected by the means. This fact, we mean, that connexion is
inconceivable without contiguity, is familiarly known in applied
mechanics. In invisible nature, connected as it eridently is
with risible nature, contiguity is always supposed, sufficient for
one part to be in contact with, and move, another, from one
end of the medium to the other. Connexion by matter, or by
motion, rationally speaking is alone perceivable by the mind,
as consisting of means or media orderly and successively con
nected with each other, and by which the ends are brought into
mutual relation. The same is the case universally with aU those
things that are incapable of being considered in this material
manner, but which, however, still depend on, and proceed from,
material and substantial subjects. Wherever there is any con
nexion in them, a connexion between them by contiguity is at
once supposed, and this at last, if we push the matter home,
supposes connexion of, or with, substances. But learing these
details, let us simply attend to the fact, that connexion sup
poses contiguity in substantials and modes, and that without it,
connexion, finitely speaking, is inconceivable. All our know
ledge of things through experience points to the affirmation,
which reason indeed makes as well as experience, that there is
a connexion between the soul and the body, whereby the one
can operate upon the other, and likewise that the one does
actuaUy operate upon the other. Granting which, it is impos
sible to deny, that there is a connexion between the soul and
the body, and that there are means to form and cause it. For
as there can be no connexion, either in substantials or modes,
without contiguity; and as we see that numerous operations

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 119
take their rise in the more considerable organs of the body, and
in the parts subject to mechanical laws, in their motion, and in
many ways ; so we affirm that there must be contiguum or con
tiguity, and that there can be no such thing as an absolute divi
sion or break between the soul and the body, but that there is
a contiguity: of what nature, however, is a point for special
demonstration. The nexus between II. The second point we have to notice is, that
ItT^wfmfJottn* the nexus between the body and the soul must
included in man. have cnds. In finite nature there is nothing
conceivable but has its own ends ; in short, there is no infinite
nexus. And as we see that the nexus or contiguum between
the soul and the body terminates on the one hand in the soul,
on the other, in the visible organization of the body; so of
necessity this contiguum must have its ends, and these must lie
within the body. Or to state the proposition more speciaUy,
when any effect within the contiguum proceeds from the soul
and the body, we affirm that let its nature be what it may, it
must needs have ends of its own, or a separate starting point
in either term. And inasmuch as the effect exists, or may exist,
in the body, the ends must of course be within the body or
included in the body. For if both the first and last end were
not in the body, and both in this way included therein, and
attached to the corporeal space, then no effect whatever could
be perceived as taking place in the body ; and consequently
there could be no operation of the soul upon the body, or of
the body upon the soul. If in fact the effect went out from the
soul beyond the limits of the body, then the operation of the
body would pass at once by connexion and contiguity beyond
the soul to some ulterior end ; and the effect proceeding from
either end could not become sensible in the corporeal space.
And therefore whatever we feel in the body as an effect of the
cooperation of the body and the soul, must be distinctly related
to ends comprehended within the bodily space. All, however,
that goes further, as there is a contiguum through universal
nature, may undergo dissipation thereby, but wUl not be felt in
the body. In short, whatever is there felt, supposes ends within
the body ; and the fact of the ends being in the body, or en
closed in the bodily space with all its contiguity, on the one

120 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
hand in the external senses, on the other in the soul, is the
single cause which makes man Uve. The connexion of ends
sensible through motion within the space, creates his living
" essence ; the life being in exact proportion to the quantity of
ends that can be said to be enclosed in the space, or to termi
nate within it. If a large measure of ends can be said to be
enclosed, then the life is also large ; if a smaU measure, the life
in that case wiU be small ; supposing always that the means are
entire and unbroken. Moreover the longer the series of the
contiguity, the more distinct the life. More or less, too, con
tribute to the result in some degree. But of these subjects we
shall speak in greater detail in. a special demonstration. We
may now take it for granted, that the ends in man consist on
the one hand in the external senses or their organs ; on the
other, in the soul ; and that therefore they are twofold. And
whatever then comes to the soul, must stop there, as haring
arrived at an ultimate end enclosed in, or attached to, the body.
And whatever does so stop, man is enabled to perceive within
his living space ; and thus the centre of aU perceptions lies in
the soul, and all things first stand related in their rational con
ditions to the soul as a centre.
No perceptibieope- HI- The next point is this, that if aught
ration can take place -vyhich is sensible Or perceptible is to pass from
between the soul and i i i , , ^ t
body, without some one end to the other, or between the two ends,
previous mutation. ^^ cannot do SO but through some mutation. If
no mutation existed in this animal contiguum, nothing sensible
could be, nothing could be perceived. Were there no mutation,
there would necessarily be quiescence of parts, and consequently
nothing sensible, or distinct from rest, because nothing active.
Suppose a contiguum, and also ends, and in the contiguum, or
between the ends, suppose simply nexus in substances, but
without mutation ; and can you in reason perceive how anything
could exist on such conditions ? But the point may perhaps be
more clearly illustrated by gross sensible objects. Thus there
is no such thing as taste, unless something is present to cause
a change or mutation, and to enable us to feel by taste. Were
nothing present there would be no taste. And in smeU unless
there were something to move the organs, or induce a change,
there would be no sense of odor. In the ear were there nothing

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 121
to move, and no undulating motion, there would be no hearing.
The same is the case in sight. If hearing and sight, or the organs
thereof, were wanting, and mutations were unable to proceed
from them onwards by contiguity toward the soul, there would be
no sensual element at all. Therefore whatever is perceived from
one end to the other, must have its cause in some mutation.
No mutation can Now it foUows from these considerations,
UmZ 7he'°natural that in finite parts, in so far as they are ex-
sphere. tended or natural, no mutation can happen
without motion : be the finite parts gross or subtle, so long as
they are natural, they cannot be changed without being moved.
The one condition supposes the other. So that when we are
treating of extended or finite things, we may be sure that no
mutation can erist otherwise than by motion, whether the
motion be of the parts or the whole, so long as the mutation
exists. In the animal contiguum, therefore, in as far as it is
finite and extended, that is to say, natural, in so far motion is
the cause of all mutation. Once more take the case of the ex
ternal senses. How could one hear without motion in the air,
and communication of the motion to the drum of the ear, and
consequently to a graduated scale of finer and finer organs ?
How could one smeU without there were something to move the
olfactory organs, and in moring them, to originate motion ?
The case is the same in taste ; and in sight also. For the formal
element cannot exist, unless there be something to make or
cause it ; either motion in the parts, or motion extraneous to or
beyond them. We do not wish to come yet to the inner sphere
of the body, notwithstanding which we may argue unhesitat
ingly by the connexion subsisting between it and the outer.
If at one end of the animal body, namely, in the external
senses, all things exist by motion, and if there is a connexion
between the body and the soul, and the other end lies in the
soul ; and if that which is felt through motion at the one end,
is felt in the other also, it cannot pass through this contiguum
to the other end otherwise than by the means existing in the
first end, that is, than by motion. It would be unreasonable
to attempt to say, that although the sensation exists in the first
end by motion, it does not therefore follow that it exists in the
other end by motion. For if motion begins in one end of a

122 THE MECHANISM OP THE INTERCOURSE
contiguum, it cannot be said to be dissipated before it comes to
the other : were it so, there would be either rest in the soul, or
no mutation : although it is impossible to deny that there is
indeed an active, motive and efficient element in the soul.
This, however, cannot possibly exist without mutation. Since
at one end mutation consists in motion, why should we deny
the fact of motion ? Why should one say that the mutation at
the other end consists in some mode different from motion ? If
you say that there is a mode which cannot be called motion,
in short, a state, and that the mutation can only be caUed
mutation of state, and not of motion, pray then what kind of
state is it whose mutation may be called change of state, and
not motion ? If the state be infinite, I have nothing to rejoin,
but most wiUingly admit that it is not motion ; though by the
way in this case it is not change of state. If the state be finite,
there cannot fail to be a quality in it, for there is in every
finite. But without motion can there be any mutation in finite
or extended beings ? The mutations however in modes proceed
ing from that finite, may by analogy be termed motions, as they
come from their substances or subjects : and thus motion is
predicated of substantials. But not to dwell longer on these
particulars, we shall only observe, that if in our explanation of
special principles we can demonstrate, that motion is the cause
of sensations through the external sensory organs, and if motion
passes through the contiguum towards the subtlest sphere on its
way to the soul, and if aU perception, understanding and
memory, and the like, can be mechanically and geometrically
explained, then perhaps the reader will not be so ready to deny,
that motion is carried per contiguum towards the soul, and that
there is motion in the soul, most distinct, however, and most
subtle, and yet like that in the grosser parts.
There must be mb- ^^ ¦ ^^ then connexion consists in conti-
stances in man red- guity, and the body operates upon the soul
pien OJ mo ion. ^y. j^q^jqjj^ j^ foUows again that there must be
substances adapted for receiring the motion ; substances, that
is Xo say, extending from the body to the soul. If there be con
tiguum or contiguity, and if the operation take place contiguously
by motion, evidently there can be no contiguous operation reach
ing to the soul, unless there be means through which it may

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 123
exist. If there be motion, and the motion be carried by con
tiguity to the soul, there must be substances capable of receiv
ing such motion and conveying it. If there be an end, there
must be means : if a mode, there must be a substance from, or
by, which, it exists. Mode is nothing without substance, motion
is nothing without substance. There is no motion without there
be something to be moved : motion, unless it supposes a subject,
is a nonentity. If then there be motion, mutation, or mode
passing from the external parts of the body to the soul, there
must be a subject by which the motion, mutation, or mode
exists, and consequently there must be substances adapted to
receive the motion, and to convey it towards the other end.
For a moring body is a mechanical thing, which necessarily sup
poses also a geometrical element set in motion, and supposes
further a geometrical element in the motion itself, so far as
regards the direction of the motion. It supposes again a geo
metrical element, or something else, to be moved, before the
force can be heard or felt. That is to say, every moving body
supposes a mode proceeding immediately from a substantial, and
acting immediately on a substantial. And this mode, as respects
time, is past in effort, but present in act, and future in its ope
ration on anything else. However, the moment it acts, aU are
present. And thus the motion or the mechanical element is
identical with the substantial and geometrical.
There are seeerai V. The same may now logically be pre-
tZtachZ^:X di'^ated of the elements of the worid; to wit,
contiguity. that there is a connexion between them, also
a contiguity, and the connexion indeed by means of the con
tiguity ; whereby all things, whatever their description or num
ber, are mutually respective or related, and connected from
one end to the other, i.e. from subtle to gross, and vice versd.
I say, logically, or by the connexion of our argument, for
we see and perceive that one corner of the world is con
nected to the other, and that the nexus reaches from the sun
and stars to the eye of the beholder. From every earthy par
ticle we see that there is a nexus, and therefore a contiguity,
whereby the eye, at great distances, can join sight with the very
particle seen. We see the same in the ear, there being a con
nexion between it and the mouth of the speaker. No effects of

124 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
the kind could be either seen or heard were there not a con
nexion by contiguity reigning among the parts. Let us restrict
our attention to the grosser element, namely, the air. Now we
see in the air a connexion of parts amounting to such perfect
contiguity, that no interruption whatever takes place to make
the hearing faU. We find that the air may be compressed and
dilated with such perfect uniformity, that when confined it
presses equally in every direction, operating by the most con
stant natural laws. This supposes a contact between all the
parts, and consequently a connexion by that contiguous contact.
I do not beUeve that any one can bring a reason instructed by
experience to deny the existence of elements in the subtler
world. No one denies the existence of ether, for what an
amount of phenomena are seen by the eye, and what changes
are caused by the elements in the various organs 1 Hence,
though sight cannot see the parts that cause or make sight, nor
even the parts in the air that cause hearing ; nor that affect the
organs of smeU or of taste; all these being internal to the
sphere of the senses; yet we cannot, and ought not, on this
account, to deny their existence; for we do feel their effects.
And as in nature's subtler sphere we see phenomena so admira
bly wonderful, and which cannot be attributed to either the air
or the ether, does not this argue the existence of elements still
subtler than these ; and that it is not unreasonable to affirm it,
albeit the mere external senses cannot shew the fact ; and like
wise to presume a connexion reaching from the first minimum en
tity to the grossest in the elemental world, in short, to the aerial
element itself; a connexion whereby one element moves, and is
moved by, the other ; whereby, from the very first simple, one
has successively originated from the other ; whereby, conse
quently, one subsists through the other. But we will not here
confidently assume so much without demonstration; but will
only remark, that the reader is bound in reason to grant us,
that there is a connexion in the elemental world from least or
subtlest to greatest or grossest, and indeed a connexion by conti
guity — per contiguum; and that without nexus or connexion
nature is inconceivable... And in short, if any one rightly applies
reason to experience, and the soul to the senses, I see not how he
can deny nexus to elemental nature, which is the most fluid

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 125
nature of all, since nothing natural caii be conceived without
nexus ; or deny that all the causes and all the principles of things
and modes existing in the grosser world, lie in the subtler world.
As for the nature of the elemental parts or constituents, it is a
subject for which we refer the reader to our Principia, where
we have treated of the elemental kingdom.' We will here con
tent ourselves with citing from that Work the following : riz..
That if an element exist, it must needs be fluid enough to be
capable of the aptest fluxion; nor can it be capable of this,
unless each particle be fluid, and therefore contribute to the
motion of the whole, to the general motion, to that of the
volume. Did not each particle contribute, cohesion of parts
would ensue, and no elementary fluidity could exist. And if
each particle contributes to the motion of the volume, we may
be sure that the volume during motion must move with refer
ence to the mechanism and geometry of the parts. And if a
large volume in motion be similar to a small one, we may con
clude by induction that the moved volume must at last be simi
lar to the particle it consists of. Proving that from effects, or
the motion of the volume, we may judge not only of the pecu
liar geometry existing in the parts, but also of the particular
mechanism existing in the elemental world : especially as the
motion of the volume or the effect of the parts is always so
extremely self-simUar. And if the fluidity of the parts or the
volume be elemental, and enables them to undergo motion as
well particle-wise as volume-wise, it follows of course that there
is elasticity in the parts ; as indeed might be inferred from the
circumstance of there being elasticity in the volume; which
could not exist unless it existed correspondently in the parts.
All this is perfectly evident in the air. And since we find that
there is an element subtler than the air, viz., the ethereal ele
ment, and this, of the most fluid property, and immeasurably
surpassing the air in the moments and degrees of its velocity
and fluidity, hence I do not know what other account can
be given of its fluidity, but that each particle contributes sepa
rately to the general motion; and is formed so to contribute;
and to be elastic, and perfectly adapted in point of mechanism
and geometry to the general motion; and that it is far more
elastic than the aerial element, because the elasticity of the air

126 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
cannot be self-derived, but must have a cause, which cause must
come therefore from a ground in the subtler elements next to
it : just as the air cannot be set in tremulous or ribratory
motion by its own power, but requires the aid of the ether ; for
sound penetrates the glass of the exhausted receiver, through
which the air cannot enter. Thus motion, and elasticity in
motion, come from the presence of more subtle elements. Nor
do I see why it may not be inferred, that there is a succession
of elements subtler stUl, involring stUl greater fluidity, higher
mechanic adaptations for its exhibition, and more perfect elas
ticity; and indeed elements, and an augmentation of predi
cates, till we come to the least and most universal, to the ele
ment the most perfect in all such endowments. And as we see
so many admirable phenomena in the elemental world, both in
the air and in the ether, why not go further ? Why not boldly
advance by reason to a subtler sphere, and arguing by analogy,
infer its possibility and existence. And if we flnd experience
confirming reason, and that causes are explained by it, it will
then be right to conclude that we ought to go beyond the point
where the bare senses begin and end ; and at least to declare
for certain that a connexion exists, and a contiguity also. For
when the infinite had created his minimum entity, it appears
that he willed, naturaUy speaking, to make it the cause of the
creation next following, (as we always see in the finite sphere
that one thing is the cause of another) ; and created no second
compound immediately like the first, but chose that the first
should be the means of producing the second, and the second,
of composing the third ; and this, both in successive and simul
taneous order. If the origin itself took place by connexion,
like the causes, then all things must subsist by the same causes
as gave them origin. In a word, it is rational to affirm the con
nexion of the elements, and in fact, the existence of an ele
mental contiguum; for one element cannot subsist without
connexion with another, and the end cannot be without the
means : supposing it were the ultimate end, it must stand re
lated to the first by connexion and contiguity. Otherwise the
last end would perish, and the grosser world would fall into
very ruin : nay, it could not be really separated from the subtler
without annihilation. As this view of the case is to the last

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 127
degree reasonable, I cannot see, if we grant the existence of a
nexus and connexion, how we can do other than grant that
there are subtler elements as well as grosser, and that the gross
are connected with the subtle by contiguity. But we have
treated copiously of these subjects in our Principia, where we
have established four elements; the aerial element, the gross
est of all; the ethereal element; next, one still subtler, to
which we have given the name of the magnetic element : and
next, another, the subtlest or most universal element of the
world : the whole of the four standing in mutual relation to
each other both as regards origin and subsistence.
Since then, according to aU reason, there is a succession of
elemental particles of different sizes, smaller and smaller, and
which are capable of motion singly or separately, and conse
quently of fluxion, elementwise, — it foUows demonstratively,
that the particles of the gross element must move comparatively
slowly ; those of the subtler element with greater velocity ;
those of the subtler again with greater velocity stUl ; and that
the particles differ in their degrees and moments of velocity in
proportion to their masses. This is equally a matter of sense as
of demonstration. For we see that water moves slower than
air, air slower than ether, and therefore ether slower than the
next finer element ; and so forth. Thus in proportion as parts
are minute, and near to their first simple ground, they are also
less in mass, their dissimiUtudes are less, their disabiUties and
impediments are less, and their figures are perfect : in other
words, they are in the same proportion perfect both in their
geometry and their mechanism ; they are quicker to move, and
swifter in motion, being less impeded by bulk, dissimUitude,
and a number of other modes and conditions which have the
power of causing at all events a certain amount of resistance,
stoppage and irregularity. In short, the nearer they are to
their simple, the purer are they, and the more approaching to
superlative perfection in all their mechanism and geometry.
And it is also a consequence of these premises, that they are
capable of moring distinctly exactly in the same proportion as
swiftly and perfectly ; there being not only very slight dissimi
larity in the motion, but the particles undergo modification of

128

THE MECHANISM OP THE INTERCOURSE

the most distinct kind as contrasted with the modifications and
motions in their grosser correspondents ; and furthermore can
make thousands upon thousands of moments in the most dis
tinct manner, whUe the volume of the grosser element is mak
ing a single one, and that one, far from distinct : especially,
too, since the elasticity in the lesser particles is more exceUent,
pure and perfect, amounting in them to the primitive and
prime essence of the power.
And since there is a contiguity of aU the elements, it follows
that none of them can be set in motion without the motion
being felt in some measure in the others also. Where there is
a contiguum, nothing can exist in one part of it without becom
ing sensible to a certain extent at the other. What occurs at
one end goes at once by contiguity to the other. When the air
moves, the ether cannot but feel it, and the subtler elements
too, even the last and first; there being a connexion of motions
as well as a nexus of parts, a connexion of modes as well as a
nexus of substances. If then the air be the grossest element,
and the others are finer and finer in succession, and a motion
have commenced in the air, it is a demonstrable fact, that the
motion in the air, however small, becomes additionally sensible
in the ether, and more so stUl in the finer elements. The least
motion in the air cannot but exhibit a like motion in the ether,
but as the parts of the ether are finer than those of the air, so
a little volume of ether may be set in motion by a single par
ticle of air : and by the same a larger volume, so far as number
of parts is concerned, in the particles of the still subtler ele
ments. If the motion of a particle of air is slow and confused,
it will be successively more and more distinct in the ether, and
in the primitive elements, with their parts so exquisitely minute.
And thus when any motion commences in a gross medium and
tends to a finer one, it becomes more and more palpable, and
therefore distinct in its course. Tremulation in air will cause
undulation in ether, and this, in its turn, a far greater undula
tion, indeed, a species of local motion, in the next subtler
element. This may be shewn by a series of balls of different
sizes, which, if elastic ones be chosen, wiU afford a sensible
proof of our argument, and lead to the conclusion, that the

BETWEEN THE SOUL ANn THE BODY. 129
Uke is true of the very least particles, that are, or that can be,
beneath our senses. But perhaps we have already dwelt too
long upon this subject.
The elements ope. VI, We may now approach the mechanism
of the animal frame; that intervenes between the body and the soul,
and the like exists in ^e have fouud that there are elements which
the elements as m
animals. Operate upou the organs of the body, as for
instance the air, which operates upon those of hearing, and
the ether upon those of sight. And as they can only operate
by mode or motion, (no operation, as we said before, can
exist without mutation, and no mutation in the finite sphere
without motion either of the whole or the parts,) so there are
elements that operate on the organs of hearing and sight, and
this, by a motion which, in the air, we know to be undulatory
or tremulatory, the ether contributing to produce it ; and the
motion being an admitted fact at the present day. For the
sound is plainly produced by the motion of the nerves or mem
branes; the tympanum is visibly extended in the ear, visibly
adapted also for receiring the motion ; besides which there are
finer organs present to carry the motion inwards, and subtilize
it into sensation. We may therefore infer that the same scale
of progress takes place in the ether, whose modification consists
in motion, inasmuch as it moves the organs of sight to exercise
sensation. For undulation as existing in the elements, or in
their parts, or parts of parts, (on the position and motion of
which their formal essence depends,) is in fact their most gene
ral, as well as their most natural, motion, because by it they
move particle-wise or particularly. And as in the undulations
of an element there may exist aU the conditions on which the
infinite variety of phenomena is explicable; and not only ex
plicable, but geometrically and experimentaUy demonstrable;
such conditions, we mean, as this, that an element admits of
innumerable undulations simultaneously and successively ; that
a lesser and larger, a quicker and slower undulation, may exist
in one and the same volume; and the lesser vrithin, and toge
ther with, the larger; that there is nothing to prevent new
undulations from constantly entering an identical tremulous
volume, and coexisting therein, thousandfold variety thus taking

130

THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE

place in a single contiguum. This is cognizable in air sensually,
in water risually, and we know it demonstratively by the me
chanism of the parts. If then correspondmg undulatory motions
exist in the minutest elements, in which aU modulations are far
more distinct, sensible and perfect, of course they may stUl
more distinctly admit the existence of an added number of
tremors. These particulars, however, wiU require a special
process of deduction.
VII. Seeing then that the elements consist of parts that
are to the last degree moveable in the cosmic space, and
that in this respect they are the very sources of motion ; and
that they are moveable in any given space or place, whether
they be in a state of compression or dilatation; a quality by
which they can enjoy both rest and motion, passion and action,
and the possession of which in fact constitutes them so to speak
the Ufe of the universe, — seeing all this, we cannot but con
clude, that aU motion in man from one end to the other, from
the external senses to the very soul, through the whole human
contiguum, is in this respect like the elements, and indeed is
the microcosm of the universe ; and that in man, too, aU actions
take place by means of contiguum; the motion tending from
gross to subtle, from the senses to the soul ; and in ascending
the scale of finer and finer entities, stopping in the finest of
all as the centre ; that in this upward course, it becomes more
and more sensible, more and more distinct, as we said of the
corresponding motion in the elements; that it becomes more
and more nicely fitted to receive all kinds of varieties ; and the
finer or subtler the other end, the more sensible and distinct
the effect of the motions ; so that at length there is nothing in
variety but may be distinguished, and nothing but may be dis
tinguished by variety : not to mention several other particulars
in which human life seems to follow the pattern of the elements,
and to take similitude therefrom. On this ground it is, that
the theory of the elements requires to be deUvered before we
can labor with the least effect towards a knowledge of the ope
rations in human life,
VIII, But living creatures, of which man is the last and
most perfect, do not consist of elements, but are bodily or

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 131
corporeal, and therefore we have now to consider the structure
There are mem- of their bodies. As WC see that such wonderful
branes inthe humari varieties of motiou, both simultaneous and
000^^ to receive all . -i i • i i
the motions of the succcssive, are possible m the elements; and

that these varieties become increasingly mul
tiple, sensible and distinct in the subtler sphere ; and that in
this respect the animal body is like the elements ; and as that
body is corporeal, and not purely elemental, — so let us observe
whether aught having simUar relations, or recipient of the above
varieties of motion, is to be found in the corporeal sphere. And
first let us regard those large and more considerable parts whose
bodily mechanism is evident and admitted. Now the motion of
the air is received within the body by particular membranes.
We see this in the whole construction of the ear ; we see that
the entrance or external meatus is closed by a membrane, upon
which the undulating air will necessarily impinge, and cause in
it a corresponding undulation. And on examining further into
the internal conformation of the ear, we again find membranous
expansions of a finer and finer texture ; and also machinery for
concentrating the undulation, before it is conveyed to the higher
sphere ; so that the resulting sound may become more articulate.
And the same process takes place again and again as the undu
lation passes inwards. In the eye we have a machine, all whose
parts conspire to enable the rays of light, or the modulations of
ether, proceeding from the whole space that is comprized at
once in the field of vision, to make their way distinctly towards
the retina; so as afterwards to be spread through the optic
nerve, and at last diffused through, and immersed in, the sub
stance of the medulla oblongata, and of the cerebrum. All
these facts are risible and tangible ; and it only remains for us
to bring reason to bear, and before coming to a conclusion, to
enquire, whether the above parts, with no exception, are not
bodily formed and fashioned with a view to the undulation or
modulation begun in the element, being carried inwards bodily,
that is to say, through bodily parts ? In answer to which
enquiry, we are bound to conclude in reason, that there is no
alternative, but that the above motions piust be received, and
carried inwards, and ultimately to the cerebrum, by bodily
jans. And as we find that a peculiar sensation exists within
k2

132

THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE

of which the subject is conscious,— and that there is an imagina
tive faculty, which is active enough for the man to feel it, and
for his very body so to feel it, that in numberless instances the
grosser parts of the frame, the blood, and the other fluids,
together with any saline, sulphurous, or other particles that
they contain, are excited and moved thereby, — so we are bound
in reason to conclude from fact, that here the cause can be of
no quiescent or passive, but of an active character, and in short
that it can be no other than motion.
Let us, however, pursue the argument, and observe if there
be anything in the body that on mechanical principles wUl
receive the motions in their various degrees of subtlety. Thus
much is certain, that in the grosser parts there are drums and
membranes admirably conformable to the motions of the aerial
element. We have now to shew by induction whether there are
membranes of different degrees of subtlety, and which are con
formable to corresponding motions in the subtler elements.
Nor by rational analysis can we conclude otherwise than in the
affirmative. For if there are membranes to receive the undu
latory motion of the air, then why not subtler membranes to
receive subtler undulations ? It is at all events possible that
there are, and being possible, is it also fact? To determine
this we must have recourse to anatomy, and examine the several
parts of the body, avaiUng ourselves also of the assistance of
the microscope, and we shaU find that a very large proportion
not only of the brain but of other parts of the system, consists
of membranes. In the cerebrum, for instance, we shall see
that there are membranes of different degrees of fineness, and
that the finer membranes give place to others finer stUl, until at
last the subtlety is so extreme that neither the eye nor the best
microscope is adequate to recognize it. The difference of the
membranes in fineness is plain enough to the naked eye. In
general moreover we find that there is hardly a part in the
human body but runs through a scale of fineness or subtlety,
ramifying, and in this way diminishing, until it eludes the power
of the senses. This is clearly erident in the veins and arteries,
in the nerves, in innumerable other parts, and among the rest,
in the membranes. We may very fairly conclude from it, not
only to the possibUity of the subtUization of the membranes

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 133
through finer and finer expansions, one after another, but also,
on the ground of anatomical demonstration, to the actual ex
istence of the same. Besides which we have the same ground
for asserting, that there is no part of the human body but is
clothed by one or more membranes of different kinds. The
indiridual man with aU his members is enclosed in membranes,
two or three ; the cranium, the same ; the cerebrum is clothed
with its own membranes, gross and fine; so also the cerebellum
and the bulk of its parts. The Uke is true of aU things in the
lower sphere of the body, as weU as in its parts ; nay, of even
the minutest vessels. The bones, wherever situated, are clad
with pecuUar membranes. The nerves too. The fat, particle
by particle, is enclosed in an infinity of membranous locuU or
cells. And thus in the body, whether we consider it as a whole,
or regard it as made up of parts, and parts of parts, the ana
tomical eye recognizes that all things are enclosed in mem
branes, and that the membranes ramify, and become finer and
finer, untU at last the eye can see them no longer. Yet to
argue that because they cannot be seen, therefore they cannot
exist, is to draw anything but a logical consequence. It is more
reasonable, as we see the membranous form wherever the eye
can reach, that reason should begin where the eye ceases, and
conclude without doubt that there stUl are similar subtler forms,
inasmuch as we see answerable effects in the subtler sphere.
IX. Having now arrived by the aid of reason at the
conclusion, that the existence of the finer membranes is not
only possible, but plausible, we have next to consider their
quaUties. And if they are formed for the reception of motions,
finer and finer, on the pattern of the motions in the elements,
it follows that the membranes must of necessity be tense.
Motion cannot be received without tension. No tone comes
forth unless the membranes exhibit contiguity sufficient to cause
one part to move when the other does. Unless the drum of the
ear be tight or tense, the air has no chance of producing in it
motions answering to the aerial movements. Unless the nerve
be tense, it wiU never allow any ribration to reach the sensible
sphere. Tension therefore is required; and being absolutely
necessary, the presence of a specific cause is also required to
produce it. Here again let us first proceed to the experience of

134

THE MECHANISM OP THE INTERCOURSE

the external senses, and when this faUs, and not tiU then, let
us appeal to reason. Now we see that the larger membranes
are put in tension by various bodies that they enclose, either
by bones, or by nerves, the coverings being stretched just as
the parts enclosed stretch them. But to come to the membranes
themselves, we see that they are stretched by Uquids ; eridently
indeed by the blood and the different other humors. We also
know by sight and experience, that the blood when coUected in
any quantity, is sufficient not only to stretch the parts covering
it, but furthermore that the finer parts being attached and con
nected to the grosser, the tension arising from either the
quantity or insurgency of the blood, is sufficient, taking into
account the contiguity and connexion, to put the lesser mem
branes also in tension. We cannot stretch a fresh piece of
membrane between the fingers without its finer parts undergoing
a corresponding tension. If the tension is produced by swell
ing, either from the blood or any other fluid, it amounts to
precisely the same thing, only it must be admitted that such
sweUing is a cause of tension not only in the larger but also in
the flner parts. Experience is itself too eloquent on these sub
jects to require much assistance at present from reason. Thus
we see that various membranes in the body are put on the
stretch by the swelUng blood. And as the result of tension we
see not only an alteration in the senses, but even in the
imaginative faculty, and in the muscles, as during anger, in
toxication, accessions of fever, &c. The position is therefore
experimentaUy clear, because we see effects which extend to the
very soul.
Although, however, we cannot at present penetrate further
by experience and the external senses, still it does not foUow
but reason may go further, and, assisted by geometry and me
chanics, be as positive in its statements and conclusions as the
external senses themselves ; more especially if we reason from
effects as weU as in causes. As then the larger membranes are
put in tension by the grosser Uquids ; by the blood and the rest
of the humors ; and as finer membranes do exist, and must
equally have their pecuUar tension, and if stretched by a general
expansion, their parts also must be so disposed, as to undergo
a perfectly even or equal tension ; consequently as there must

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 135
be some Uquid or fluid to cause this power of equal tension, and
to make the parts so preserve their tension as equaUy to diffuse
over them the' motions received : — so from the large and the
visible we may .conclude without hesitation to the minute and
inrisible, and infer that there is a fluid that speciaUy stretches
the lesser parts. And as there are membranes of superlative
flneness, we may conclude that there is also a fluid of equal
fineness, to enable Uke to operate upon like. And thus the
inference that exquisitely subtle membranes are put in ten
sion by an exquisitely subtle fluid, is repugnant neither to the
experience of the external senses, nor to mechanics, nor to
effects, but on aU these grounds is perfectly agreeable to reason.
And since from effects we recognize innumerable predicaments
Uke and corresponding with the motion of the elements, it be
comes probable from this also, that there is an elemental fluid
of some kind to put the finest membranes on the stretch : and
that it is finely elemental in proportion as the membranes are
fine : the subtlety in the elements having its analogy in the
membranes of the animal body ; whereby the elements operate
on their own correlatives in the body ; and by a peculiar mem
branous connectedness and contiguity ascending from gross to
subtle, the elemental contiguum conspires with the bodily con
tiguum ; which produces analogous effects in the body and in
the elements, with only this difference, that the contiguum in
the body is enclosed in space, and undergoes tension and fluxion
from one end to the other; whereas in the elements, there is
no end or enclosed space, for the whole universe is their space
and fleld. And consequently the membranes are designed to
enable the motions to be confined to space and enclosed within
boundaries. In short, a motion similar to the elemental exists
not only in the elements, but also in the membranes of the
body, which latter have their peculiar boundaries.
The membranes are X. And for the above reasons the mem-
formed geometrical, ijranes also feel. For the soul operates upon
ly, with exquisite n i
precision, for the re- the body through them alone, aU the mo-
7oT:xti^\n7he tions of the body are performed by them, and
elements. all ritality, and all the animal and sensual
powers, consist entirely of their motion ; so that there is hardly
a single anatomist who does not declare without reservation

136

THE MECHANISM OP THE INTERCOURSE

that aU the membranes feel. Whenever a membrane is touched,
sense is at once excited, which shews that the membranes are
means for sensation, although it is not felt at the point of con
tact untU the membranes in the brain become conscious of it,
by means of the contiguity subsisting in the latter, assisted by
the elemental fluid. And in order, I repeat, that the mem
branes may the better adapt themselves to the sway, motion or
vibration of the elements, in short, fall into imitation of the
elemental motions, they require a formation so nicely mechan
ical and geometrical, as wiU capacitate them for receiving the
whole possible mobility that exists in the elements ; the motion
of the latter being in this way flxed or represented in them. To
fulfil these conditions, the middle membranes require to have in
them not merely the due and fitting form and shape, but also
the due size, thickness, and the several other quahfications
which geometry can bestow. This, however, is not the place to
descend to particulars. But unless the drum of the ear were
exactly calculated to the ribratory motion of the air, both in
thickness, figure and position, it could never receive as dis
tinctly as it does all the moments and degrees of the aerial
motion; and unless the same were the case with the inner
membranes beside the labyrinth and cochlea, it would be' utterly
impossible for all the moments and degrees to penetrate so dis
tinctly and with such concentration towards the subtler sphere.
Moreover unless in the middle membranes there were a
peculiar system of attachment, sufficient to preserve them in
their proper shape, and to produce the fittest and nicest division
in each particular expansion ; and unless they were so formed as
to enable the elemental fluid to pass in the freest manner
through them all as well as through their attachments ; unless
these conditions also were fulfiUed, the membranes could never
be kept perfectly equal in their tension, nor conform to any
given motion. And therefore there ought to be the exactest
harmony between the membranes and their corresponding ele
ments, since it is by means of the latter that a perfectly similar
motion may be diffused through the whole body, and conse
quently that membranes, always and everywhere simUar, may
fall into the same or a similar motion. The element is the only
thing that can transfer motions. The membranes of themselves

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 137
cannot be other than merely passive ; yet are they so formed as
to receive the motion of the elemental parts, and by whatever
cause they are moved, they faU into imitation movements, and
moreover act upon the enclosed volume of the element recipro
cally. By the operation of the element therefore a similar
modulation is diffused in a moment all over the body ; and in
this way the vibratory or undulating motions in the elements en
closed in the frame, are in the truest sense those animal spirits
that are said to obey the volitions of the soul, and that realize
whatever is desired by the body and the soul conjointly. But
we shall treat better of this subject in a special theory ; here
we can give but a confused and general idea of the operation.
XI. As we learn by experiment that the ribrations or
undulations of fluids follow their own laws of motion with
the utmost exactness, and in fact that any element in mo
tion cannot but move according to principles of its own, and
according to the figure and mechanism of its parts ; so again,
as the elements fix their tremulous and undulatory motions
in the membranes, they retain their own laws, and these,
the most perfectly harmonic, in the purest form, and in the
most exact manner in the latter, and the membranes cannot stir
a single step without those laws. From the nerves equally with
the membranes we learn the nature of these laws, and are
The laws of mo- taught that they are the laws of harmonic pro-
^t^Jl^H portion, which is always in relation to distance
in human organs. from a Centre. Let US take an instance from
a membrane convoluted or formed into a spiral or any other
figure conceived to have a centre. Now this membrane, at a
certain or given distance from the centre, wiU necessarily move
with a ribration proportioned to that distance or to those
bounds, and the ribration wUl have proportional moments or
degrees, and a proportional velocity : at another distance from
the centre, either greater or less, it will necessarUy take on a
particular vibration proper to the place, and wUl admit of no
other. And to make any kind of harmony between two or three
distances, the distance of one from the centre must be a propor
tional of the distance of the other from the centre; and the
distances must also be mutuaUy related, aud therefore them
selves make harmony. And this is the case in the nerves.

138 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
in which indeed there is the same ground of harmony; although
the nerve can only respond to one tone, but the membranes to
aU tones. Where the nerves are many in number they may
collectively represent a single membrane, and their proportions
or harmonies wiU be as the distances ah-eady mentioned, pro
vided the different nerves are exactly equal in tension and the
same in point of thickness. And thus the vibration of mem
branes is always in the ratio of the distances from the centres,
and if these are as the mutual distances, then the vibration is
thoroughly harmonic. But aU this apphes to membranes which
are geometrically constituted with a centre ; in other cases the
harmonic ratios are most nearly represented among the asymp
totes in a hyperbola. The ribrations in the membranes before
aUuded to for the most part generate a geometry of their own,
or acquire a particular harmony by habit and exercise ; yet even
this harmony always consists in the circumstance, that the dis
tances from the centre stand in mutual relations to each other.
The whole field of continuous harmony gives birth to a single
harmonic ribration, which may be caUed a mixed or compound
vibration. And a ribration of this kind may be stiU more
finely concentrated into a unity in the subtler membranes.
Moreover from a number of mised vibrations, other mixed and
compound vibrations may arise, and so on through successive
degrees of elevation, as the membranes in the body are finer
and finer, and fitter for a perfectly distinct reception of aU
ribratory movements. On the other hand, those ribrations of
which the mixed order is composed, may be graduaUy, harmo
nically and separately brought out from the compounds, which
in this manner may be resolved into their parts, if the mind
attentively dweUs upon them. Two tones or sounds may gene
rate a third, which, however, will be precisely such as can fit
in harmonicaUy among the ratios of the distances. Like ribra
tions may produce their like in the adjacent parts ; in the sub
tler parts ; in the grosser ; and this both simultaneously and
successively : for a Uke ribration may in a manner spontaneously
(by the mediation, however, of the element) cause a like ribra
tion in another membrane, and consequently caU forth other
like ribrations which have been imprinted by use and habit:
just as a ribrating string sets another string, whether thick

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY, 139
or thin, of similar tone, into the "same ribration with itself.
And if in mixed ribrations there be several tones, a similar tone
may be caUed forth from them in particular in another place ;
a tone either simple or less mixed. And if aU the delicate
membranes be harmonicaUy enough adapted by use and culti
vation, a genuine and perfectly distinct effect wUl be produced :
all which circumstances must ensue, prorided only there be a
succession of membranes, finer and finer, and their position
and shape fit them for the distinct recipiency of all ribrations,
and for the production and representation of aU, But the whole
of these particulars wiU have to be deduced at large, and de
monstrated geometrically, in a special theory : here we have
simply been anxious to give a general idea of them, and by this
means to help on others more penetrating than ourselves to a
deeper investigation of the operations of the elements upon the
membranes, and of the membranes upon the elements. In a
word we would say, that so far as concerns the tremulous motion
of parts or surfaces of parts, there can be nothing in the ele
ments but is likewise possible in the membranes of the body,
prorided they are adapted to receive from the elements a motion
imitative of their own. And hence numberless and almost in
effable varieties are possible, where there is a graduated scale of
membranes, gross and fine, thick and thin, more or less, and
diversely, tense, stout, figured, &c, : as many varieties in short
as exist in the elements themselves. And thus the elemental
world has made itself sensible by the membranes in the smaU
world of the Uring microcosm.
This too it is which has caused many prerious enquirers, (for
I am by no means the first in this walk, but have had learned
predecessors, with whom I wUl not venture to compare myself,)
seeing the correspondence that subsists between the motions in
the elements, and the motions in the membranes, to declare
that ribratory or tremulous motion is the cause of sensation.
Former writers, however, have not attempted to go beyond this
general induction, but have betaken themselves to certain ani
mal spirits of unknown operation, finding in them a general
asylum, to make an end and mode somewhere to their investi
gation. Granting then that the microcosm, man, within his bounda-

140 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
ries, is analogous to the macrocosm within its boundaries; and
that in the Uttle human world there is a membranous as weU as
an elemental nexus reaching without a break to the very soul;
and that the soul is a part of the purer world ; or that one end
of man is in the subtler world, the other in the grosser : grant
ing these premises, it foUows: 1, That aU motion or mode in
this animal and liring microcosm comes either from the subtler
world, and tends through the contiguum to the grosser, that is
to say, from the soul to the body; or that the inverse movement
takes place, viz,, from the body to the soul. 2, If the origin
of a given motion be in the soul, then it passes into the grosser
world by connexion of contiguity, and this, harmonically : and
where the harmony is true and perfect, the passage to the other
end wUl be effected freely and instantaneously ; and wUl be felt
at the other end as well as in the means. Nevertheless in tend
ing from the subtler to the grosser sphere, the mode or motion
wUl become graduaUy grosser, more impure, less perfect, com
paratively indistinct and rude. And if the origin of the motion
be not adequate to the substances of the grosser world, piece
meal and gradually it may vanish away and perish, before it
can arrive at the ultimate end. And if in the gross and imper
fect world, or in the field of means, there be aught that is stUl
less perfect, and greatly discordant, dissonant, or dissimUar, or
if the contiguum be not sufficiently harmonic, in this case, as
it proceeds, it wiU be confused, dispersed, perish and die away,
before the mode has fairly reached its destination, 3, Suppose,
however, that the source of the motion or mode Ues in the first
instance in the grosser world, and that the contiguum is har
monic, in this case it wiU pass in a moment to the soul, and be
felt with pleasure in the middle terms, because it is felt with
pleasure in the soul; and it will also be comparatively pure,
perfect and distinct in the means, because it is pure, perfect and
distinct in the soul ; that is to say, it becomes relatively pure in
proportion as it penetrates deeply into the purer world. But
where the connexion of contiguity, or the natural harmony, is
comparatively imperfect and dissimilar, it can reach the soul
neither distinctly, nor purely, nor harmonically, nor deUght-
fuUy; for it meets with a barrier of dissonance or discord on the
way, and the mode is either dissipated, or comes confusedly,

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY, 141
and with pain, to the soul, 4, ContinuaUy discordant modes,
and their frequent use and employment, may produce a peculiar
habitude, whereby at last the soul will seem to love discord in
motions more than harmony, aud to seek delight in dissonance
and contrariety ; so that it wiU begin to be formed upon the
model, or to the modes, of the body, and to be assimilated to
the grosser and impurer world : in which case its harmonies are
discords. When such like souls are released from their bodies,
natural harmony can give them no other than a feeUng of dis
sonance, perpetual contrariety, and painful misery, especially
when aught from the purer and more perfect world approaches
them. For they enjoy no connexion, but are in perpetual dis
cord, with the more perfect world; and can have no pleasure
except in experiencing the dissonant modes of the impurest
sphere which answer to their own impurity.
The soul is the XII, We have hitherto confined ourselves
centre of such mo- to the Organs or membranes upon or through
which sensations are conveyed by ribrations
towards the soul; whereby the soul perceives aU things with
the greatest distinctness, and has concentrated in itself, than
which there is no subtler essence in the body, aU ribrations,
both mixed and simple. Did not the soul consist of the
very subtlest parts, so as of right to have conveyed to it aU
motions and ribrations by the midway of the membranes, it
could never become conscious of any motion that begins in the
first instance in the grosser organs. The membranes, therefore,
upon which ribrations pass after the manner of the elements,
are but organs between the external senses of the body, and the
soul. Without these means, the soul would be destitute of aU
power and faculty to act or operate, and incapable of feeUng
what goes on in the grosser sphere ; destitute also of the faculty
to cooperate with the body, and of the power of calling into
motion similar parts, and this, more and more distinctly. In a
word, the soul would be without the body, and the body would
be without the feeUng of a soul. And if these middle mem
branes should lose either their connexions, or tone, or tension,
instantly a dissimUarity — a rupture of analogical Ukeness — con
trary to usual habitude, must be represented to the soul. And
when in this case the soul begins to operate, it wiU have to work

142

THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE

through a crowd of unUkely parts and circumstances, and no
proportional or rational result wiU foUow. Rationality is never
therefore the product of the soul alone, but of the other parts
as weU which form the medium or contiguum that connects the
senses with the soul.
In the soul undoubtedly we have the centre of aU the ribra
tions we have spoken of, as well as a most active and supremely
geometrical and mechanical essence, in which all motions and
vibrations whatever are represented and felt, both distinctly and
mixedly : and from which the whole of the finest ribrations are
diffused over the multitude of similars, or excite motion among
them : whereby lastly, through the analysis and harmony of
simUars and dissimilars in some third or fourth degree, or in
any which is required, the soul is enabled to acquiesce or rest
harmonicaUy and delightedly,
XIII, But lastly, it is probable that the reader may be
anxious to pause for awhile at this stage, and to ask us what
we think about the place and residence of the soul in the body ;
what the soul's nature is both in point of mechanism and figure;
also the peculiarity of its immediate or proximate operation
upon the membranes which aid and subserve it : with a number
of other questions concerning that part of man, which although
the most unknown, is yet the chief of all, and which questions
are weU worth solving. On these subjects we will now open
our mind, although in a slight and exceedingly general manner.
The seat of the With regard to the place or locaUty of the soul
soul m the body. jjj ^jjg body, it is clear from the foregoing pages,
and from the reason of the case, that the soul dweUs in no par
ticular gland, in no particular membrane, and that it is not
diffused all over the body : but that its dwelUng-place is there,
where the membranes pass through higher and higher attenu
ations, and attain the finest subtlety they can. When we ex
amine the human cerebrum, we find that there is hardly a part
of it but is enveloped and clad not with one but with several
membranes : we find that the general portions of it are loosely
invested with the dura mater ; that a still larger number of its
parts or dirisions is covered with the pia mater, which dips
deeply into the folds, furrows and crannies of the cerebrum;
and that these two membranes accompany the spinal marrow

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY, 143
where it issues from the head, and sheathe the nerves through
out all their wide courses and ramifications. Neither in the
nerves, however, nor in the fibres, can we see that their ramifi
cations form the smallest membranes, but for the most part
they are evident and visible, although even there so subtle as to
begin to escape our sight. Not so, however, in the cerebrum,
aU whose parts are enveloped with their pecuUar tunics, and
the tunics and membranes that are visible, and the still larger
number that are inrisible, can and do ramify in an eminent
manner ; from which it is fair to conclude, that the seat of the
rational soul is in an especial sense in the brain, and does not
extend beyond it. In the cerebrum we have the pia mater, a
very fine and risible membrane covered with innumerable blood
vessels, and which ramifies again and again, and detaches ten
dons of the finest make, as well as an exquisitely delicate
contiguity of membrane ; all which dip into and pervade the
cerebrum, and lUtimately pass in a still more highly attenuate
and subtle form into its very substance, first into the cortical
substance, next into the medullary, in which latter, therefore,
we see the most manifest signs of the ramification of mem
branes. And inasmuch as similar substances are found in nearly
every part of the cerebrum, and also of the cerebellum, aud in
the medulla oblongata throughout, so we conclude that the soul
resides particularly in the cortical substance of the cerebrum,
and partly also in the meduUary, where these exquisitely subtle
membranes, from the structure of the organ, can run connect
edly from particle to particle, and likewise above, around, and
within every particle of the above substance. The cortical or
cineritious substance Ues immediately and closely under the
membranes, being about two lines in thickness in the cerebrum,
and making serpentine windings, and often penetrating inwards.
In the cerebeUum it exists in even greater proportion, and
represents a beautiful tree or shrub full of branches, the trunks
or peduncles of which consist of the three medullary processes.
Furthermore, the pineal gland is of the same substance, and its
processes and base are frequently medullary. The medulla
oblongata, which lies under the two brains, and partakes of
both, has some little cineritious substance inside it, but for the
rest is medullary : the commencement of the meduUa oblongata

144 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
is of the same substance externally, while on the inside it is
beautifully striated. I do not, however, maintain that the me
duUary substance is devoid of the soul, especially since in some
places, as for instance the medulla oblongata, which is the
fountain-head and origin of the nerves, it appears to be of a
fibrous and tubular character, and mixed with the finest arte
ries of the cortical substance. But of all these subjects we
shall speak more at length in special treatises. Here we only
wish to shew logicaUy, that the soul is in aU those places where
the membranes of the cerebrum expand into successive fields of
diminution, and have a comparative fixity from the membranes
which produce them.
The soul is the Granting then that the soul is diffused
same wherever it is throughout the cortical sub Stance, it follows,
that it resides in no one place or spot, but
is ubiquitous in all parts of the brain, in none of which is it
self-dissimUar, but always most self-similar, and cannot ope
rate differently in one part from what it does in another. For
step by step, degree after degree, it is fitted for motion, and if
we may be allowed so to express it, is formed according to the
motion of the middle membranes ; and as these pass in all
directions around the cerebrum without a break in their conti
nuity, so the soul cannot be presented differently in the medulla
oblongata from what it is in the cerebrum, nor in the cerebrum
from what it is in the cerebellum; and this, by reason of the
contiguity and connexion which there is both in the membranes,
and in the motions through the membranes.
But perhaps a question suggests itself, whether we are to
consider that the soul is aUke in all brains or in all men ? To
which we reply that it is not alike, but of different formation in
different brains. However, it is not our present business to
explain what the difference amounts to; although it is clear
from the course of the argument, that the soul is not only
wrought, developed or cultivated, but is also adapted by use and
exercise through the intermediate membranes, and rendered
more or less fit or unfit for receiving the motions that reach it
thereby: and that in some persons its connexion with these
membranes is comparatively slight; in others, intimate and
close ; in some it is accustomed and adapted to call distinctly

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 145
forth the simUar motions imprinted by use and cultivation ; in
others, to call forth but a small number of similar, and a
vast number of dissimilar motions : in some it is more rational,
in others less so : in some it conspires in one aim with the body
and the pleasures of the body; in others it involves a resist
ance to the body, and rather longs for, and aspires to, the
rational estate. In short, there is generally, although not al
ways, a certain agreement and similitude between it and the
body. This is displayed in families, where the youngest
branches are frequently more like their grandfathers and great
grandfathers in disposition, than like their own parents, from
whom they immediately got their souls ; or from their great
grandfathers through their parents. This is the reason why
grandfathers commonly love their grandchildren more than
parents their chUdren.
Again, are we to consider that the soul consists of nothing
but a membrane, and therefore is perfectly simUar to the inter
mediate membranes ? We answer that by the foregoing argu
ments its conditions cannot possibly be like those of the above
membranes. For the soul is the last and subtlest part of the
body. It is the part which is the ultimate end where all the inter
mediate motions terminate. It is the part to receive all modes
in the most distinct manner, and out of mixed and still more
compound vibrations to form a simple and distinct essence. It
is the part where there is a centre to which all the subtlest
vibrations can refer themselves : in which there is nothing of
elemental existence, but an essence the most active : without
which none of the momentaneous intuition, distinctness, or vi-
taUty of the rational power, could possibly exist. If the reader
will please to consider this superlative activity of the soul as not
unlike our actives in the Principia, Part I., Chaps. V. and VII. ;
he will find, that actives regarded separately from their mem
brane or envelope cannot be conceived as occupying place or
determinate situation ; or as forming a contiguity or expanse ;
of which therefore in themselves they are devoid ; nor do they
at all imply the relations of upward and downward, or of resist
ance, but only pure agency ; nothing, however, elemental, nor
passive, though notwithstanding they involve pure mechanics.
But see the Principia. AU these predications agree exactly with

146 THE MECHANISM OF THE INTERCOURSE
the description of the soul given by those who love to claim it
as spiritual and not material.
This perhaps is that purely actual and simple essence that is
commonly attributed to spirits and souls, and which in some
sense may exist without involring the conception of extension
or any merely mechanical notions. We have stated, however,
that the finite actual is impossible without a mode, not only of
being actual, and of being able to become so, but also of being
of the quality it is, and of the mode or modification that it is,
both in itself, and when it operates upon confessedly material
objects. For no finite can operate on finite matters without a
mode ; or without a mutation coming from an actual substance ;
nor can there be any mutation in passives without the local
motion of an active : although still this is merely mechanical.
rr ^i V 7-.> But as regards the operation of the infinite
How the actuality .
of the soul is to be OU corporcal or bodily substances, and particu-
considered. Yq^Ij its immediate operation upon the primi
tive, and the successive and mechanical operation of the primi
tive upon the substances derived from it, — this is not analogous
to the actuality here mentioned ; for the one is finite, the other
infinite, and we have no right to explain the one by the other
in the way of simile or analogy, or to Uken God to spirits in
point of actuaUty. This I believe is forbidden to aU, and espe
cially to Christian philosophers, who are bound to admit nothing
in God but infinity, nothing in other spirits but finiteness; there
being therefore no possible ratio or relation between the two.
The difference between the infinite and the finite is so great,
that the difference between heaven and earth is nothing to it.
Actuality in the infinite must be considered as without mode,
unless mode in an infinite sense : but the actuaUty in spirits,
as involving mode; for in finite spirits nothing can be set in
activity without a mode : and mode in finites there is none but
what is immediately referable to substances, and proceeds from
them. A f annot be ^^^ ^® actives of this nature cannot act, or
finited without pas- put forth any motivc force, or produce any
sives or a surface. ^^^^^^ ^^^^ j^^^.^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^j^.^j^ ^^^^
encounter, unless such actives are enclosed in particular surfaces
or membranes that will simply obey or comply with the motive

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 147
force of the actives ; so the soul cannot be said to consist barely
of the above actives. It is true that its actirity and life consist
of them : but it is also requisite that the adjacent parts shall be
enabled to act upon the soul, and in a manner to dispose it for
action : there must consequently be a passive ground in the soul.
Moreover the force of actives upon bodies near them cannot be
conceived 'without a space, in which these actives, thus perpetu
ally operant, are enclosed. And as space cannot be enclosed
by them without a membrane of superlative subtlety; so we
conclude, that the actirity; together with its own pecuUar sur
face, jointly constitute the soul, without which no operation
upon the body is possible. And to obtain this result, the mem
branous surface must in aU reason have a centre, by virtue of
which, and therefore of the distances from the"" centre arising
from this relation of things, all that is superlatively distinct
must have its existence ; and without which no distinctness
could be.
The souls of brutes. In brutes, however, or in all liring creatures
but man, the soul is formed on the model or in the likeness of
the human soul : but it is much more gross, it is elemental, not
consisting of actives, which constitute the actuaUty of reason,
but of a pecuUar elemental ground. These are points which
we design to prove in a special treatise by a host of arguments
which are not perhaps very familiarly known to the learned
world. We have no reason to despair of arriring at a knowledge of
the soul, especially if it be no longer regarded as an object of
supreme ignorance, and as operating by absolutely unknown
laws. For if there be simply a geometrical ground, of the most
perfect kind, however, in the soul; if there be simply a me
chanical ground, and this also equally perfect, we may then
have hope of at last arriving at a knowledge of it : but never,
if principles utterly unknown, and which simply aim at igno
rance, are assumed at the outset. But we may attain to know
ledge on the subject, provided we assume that the actuality of
the soul consists in a motion and power consummately mechan
ical ; its surface in a figure supremely geometrical : in a word,
if we take for granted a something most perfectly mechanical
and geometrical in the nature of things ; and if the mind, cau-
l2

148 THE MECHANISM OP THE INTERCOURSE
tiously and dubitatively during the enquiry, brings before it a
geometrical expanse of the kind, and afterwards examines all
the facts with which experience supplies it ; that is to say, the
anatomy of the human body, of all its parts, and their parts,
and of all the organs existing both in the brain and in the
body throughout ; of all the organs of the external senses : all
the modes and faculties that can be known and distinguished,
whether in imagination, memory, perception, or will ; also the
varieties and differences of all, arising from affections and other
causes the most diverse ; with many other subjects which require
to be thoroughly scrutinized and compared in the most special
manner. By these means we shaU at last be enabled to arrive
at sure conclusions respecting the true geometry and mechanism
of this most perfect entity. And if it pleases God to accord
me life and leisure, it is my intention to shew in detail at what
stage of the enquiry I have myself arrived. At present I may
observe in general, that I do not think it prudent to make any
affirmative or positive declaration on the subject: experience
and geometry alone have a right to be affirmative and positive,
and when they become so, then, and not till then, by the con
sent of the soul, the rationale of the subject is declared. The
main end of these our labors wiU be, to demonstrate the immor
tality of the soul to the very senses.
Conclusion. What is Life, but the commencement, forma
tion and preparation of the soul for a state in which it is to
live for ever after the body dies? And what this formation
and preparation, but the means by which the soul, (which in
intrinsic subtlety, purity and perfection, and in its capacity of
receiring the divine end, is far superior and very dissimUar to the
natural body,) shall continuaUy strive to form and bend the
body to its likeness ; and never suffer the latter to reverse the
order, or to form and model the soul. The issue, however, is
by no means so easily concluded from the reason or under
standing of indiriduals, as from the immediate acts of their
will. • For though reason partakes of both the body and the
soul, yet it commonly inclines to side with the latter : but
the wiU and effect demonstrate by which it is that the man is
influenced. The soul has the power of feeling everything which
exists by motion in the body ; by rirtue of which power, assisted

BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE BODY. 149
by use and exercise, it is enabled to acquire the habit of con
spiring with all the actions whereby the body modifies its state :
and thus the soul is in itself the centre and ultimate mover of all
things, but by habit it becomes also the prime mover, or the mover
at the same time of the things occurring in that body with which
it is united. Inasmuch then as the soul is formed and prepared
in the mortal body for an immortal state, so we men are in this
respect the happiest beings in the world, or else the unhappiest;
for those who are unhappy, are more unhappy than the brutes,
whose souls are extinguished, and their Ufe annihilated, when
their bodies perish. Christians again may be still more happy,
or stiU more unhappy ; for they possess a knowledge well cal
culated to lead to faith, and to comparative distinctness and
fulness thereof: yet those of them who are unhappy, are more
unhappy than the GentUes to whom no such knowledge has
been granted. Those Christians again who are learned in the
divine law, the prelates and doctors of the church, are still
more happy, or more unhappy ; for those of them who are un
happy, are more unhappy than the rudest members of the
Christian commonalty, however defective in learning and poor
in knowledge and enUghtenment. Among the skilful inter
preters of the divine law, they again are happier stiU who have
the faculty to engraft reason upon revelation, and to make use
of both as means to a knowledge of the things conducing to
faith ; that is to say, they who are Christian philosophers ; who,
if unhappy, are more unhappy than those who have obtained
their knowledge from revelation alone. For the more knowledge
we possess, the more there is to make us happy, and the more
to make us unhappy. Hence the Christian philosopher may be
the happiest, or the unhappiest, of mortals.

THE END.

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

AccinENT demands, not a single or simple, but a multiple causation, 16. Ac
cidents arise from causes, 45. See Contingency. Accidents or chances may be
admitted, yet as presupposing causes, and as flowing to a single end, they involve
the existence of an infinite inteUigence, ibid.
Active. Actives are incapable of forming a contiguum; of occupying place,
or only such place as the enclosed expanse allows ; the predicates of upward and
downward are inappUcable to them, but they act at all angles and in all directions ;
and cannot be said to resist, but simply to act ; &c., 103, 145. Actives cannot be
finited without passives or a surface, 146.
Analogies illustrate, but cannot demonstrate, 87.
Angels. There is notliing infinite in angels, who are created beings, 53.
See Man.
Animal Spirits. The vibratory or undulating motions of the elements en
closed in the frame, constitute the animal spirits, 137.
Author, the, acknowledges the obligations which he owes, in advice and edu
cation, to his kinsman. Bishop Eric Benzelius, 1. The end of his labors is, to
demonstrate the immortality of the soul to the very senses, 148.
Bony. The end of the body and aU its parts is, to enable us to lead active
bodily lives, and to be rational creatures, 36. All parts of the body tend to their
own proper ends, and all to the common end, or that of the whole, 43, 44. As
God foresaw that the will would take the side of the body against the soul, he pro
vided, by his Only-Begotten Son, a connexion of the infinite with the finite on the
part of the body also, 79. The bodily space is a living contiguum with two ends,
the senses and the soul, 118 — 120. See Mutation, Soul. The human contiguum
of the body is analogous to the elemental contiguum, and as motions pervade it
from its grosser to its subtler end, they become newly distinct, various. Sec, 130.
Cause ; see Accident, Infinite, Nature. We admire aU natural things in their
cause, 22, 24, 25. The more numerous the causes, mechanical, geometrical and
natural, that we regard in nature, the more we must wonder at the infinite as the
cause of all things, 24, 25. There must be the same principle in causes, and
causes of causes, as in effects, or the effect would be unlike its cause, 96. Mechanism

152

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

and geometry reign universally in finite causes, 96, 97, 98—100. Many causes as
well as effects are presented to the senses, ibid.
Cerebellum. It lies in the occiput, to be nearer to the involuntary actions,
and to the heart aud lungs, 33.
Cerebrum, 31, 32. It enables man so to live and feel, that his subtlest part
lives in a sense above all others, 32.
Connexion : see Nexus. All connexion supposes contiguity and substance,
118. Wherever there is connexion there must be ends, and connexion of the ends
by means, ibid. There is plainly a connexion between the soul and the body, ibid.
There must be contiguity because connexion between the two, 119.
Contiguum : see Connexion, End, Nexus. The longer the series of contiguity
in the body, the more distinct the life, 120.
Contingency. Before the world could be formed as it is, innumerable contin
gencies, and contingencies of contingencies, must have been present, 25. The
contingencies also must have existed in the primitive entity of nature, so tliat
nothmg less than infinite wisdom could ensure the procession immediately of none
but the most perfect principles and order, 26, 30, 57. There is a preeminent Being
in the cause of contingencies, and an infinite intelligence in the Being, 57.
Creation. The actual works of creation are better than reasons to shew us
the greatness and infinity of the Creator, 28.
Delight. The end of our existence is, the exaltation of delights, from worldly
to rational, until they terminate iu the divine source of all delights, 44. There is
nothing in the world pleasurable to the senses, but becomes superlatively delightful
if the thought of God be in its enjoyment, 83. In all living subjects delight of
some kind is the appointed impelling cause of the final cause, ibid. From the
natural delight we may conclude unfailingly to the end for which the subject was
created, 84. All the senses and passions spring from and constitute delights, and
delight in its turn springs from love, which again depends on harmonic contiguity,
ibid. We are led to the primary end, as to other ends, by a peculiar element of
delight, ibid. The delight of this end is the perfection of delights, ibid. Natural
delights increase and diminish in a progressive series, and at last are self-consumed ;
but the delight that tends to the divine end ever tends to the acme of perfection up
to the hour of death, ibid. See Lose. Propagation takes place from the soul, but
only by connexion and contiguity between it and the body, and consequently by
supreme delight, 114.
Ear, the, described, 36 — 43. The parts of the external ear are formed to for
ward all vibrations inwards in a peculiar spiral curve, 38. The handle of the malleus
capacitates the membrana tympani for receiving all possible varieties of sound, 39.
The chorda tympani regulates the tension of the membrane, ibid. See Hearing,
Vibration. The maUeus, incus and stapes cause every vibration to be transmitted
identicaUy from the membrana tympani to the fenestra ovalis, 40. The grooves of
the stapes contain air or ether for transmitting vibrations, 41. From the fenestra
ovalis the vibration is in a moment present in the semicircular canals, ibid. The
cochlea embraces the whole mechanism of harmony, and by its varying form, thick
ness, calibre, &c., is differenced to correspond to all possible vibrations, 42. The
sound is heightened as it approaches the fenestra rotUnda, ibid. The cochlea is a
spiral organ, ibid.
Elements, the, must exist in a series, the subtle first, the gross afterwards,

INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 153
68, 123. The several elements are connected with each other by contiguity, 123—
127. There are elements subtler than the ether, 124, 127. By connexion one
element moves another ; one has originated from another ; and one subsists through
the other, ibid. Each particle of a really fluid element must be fluid, 125. The
volumes of the elements move according to the mechanism and geometry of their
parts, ibid. Motion, and elasticity in motion, are owing to the subtler elements,
126. We reckon four elements ; the aerial, the ethereal, the magnetic, and the
universal, ibid. There is a succession of elemental particles of different sizes,
smaUer and smaUer ; and as motion pervades them, it increases in velocity, and
becomes additionally sensible and distinct, from the gross to the subtle, 127, 128.
Vibration in air wiU cause undulation in ether, and local motion in the next subtler
element, 128. The elements operate on the substances of the animal frame, there
being the Uke in the elements as in animals, 129. The elements are the very sources
of motion, and by their mobiUty under all circumstances, are so to speak the life of
the universe, 130. See Body. A knowledge of the operations of human Ufe pre
supposes a theory of the elements, 130. Man and animals do not consist of ele
ments, but are corporeal, 131. See Membrane.
Enb : see Body, Delight, Finite, Infinite, Man, Nexus. The least parts are
those which mainly tend to ends, 44. The primary end of creation is for the infi*
nite : to suppose otherwise would be to suppose contradiction or negation in the
infinite, 60, 61. The final cause of creation is infinite, 62. It is obtained by finite
means, viz., by the universe and man, 67. The natural minimum is the first end qf
the world, man is the last, ibid. There are many secondary ends of creation, 82.
Primary ends divide into numerous secondary ends in the finite sphere, ibid. AU
the secondary ends conspire to the primary, ibid. Nothing can exist in a contiguous
and connected entity, without coming in relation to its ends or bounds ; nothing in
man without coming in relation to the senses and the soul j nothing in the universe
without coming in relation to the infinite, 88. The coimexion of the ends made
sensible by motion in the corporeal space, creates the Uving essence ; the Ufe being
in exact proportion to the quantity of ends enclosed within the space, 120. The
ends in man are the senses and sensories, and the sonl ; and whatever comes to the
soul, stops there, as having arrived at an ultimate end enclosed in the body, and
whatever so stops, man is enabled to perceive in his living space, ibid.
Extension : see Finite. Neither modes, modifications nor contingencies are
conceivable in the abstract, or without extension, 105. Whoever denies extension
denies the finite, 106.
Ete, the, described, 34 — 36. It receives the modifications of the ether, viz.,
light, 36.
Faith. The quaUty of faith is determined by knowledge, and where knowledge
is given, it and faith are inseparable, 81, 82.
Finite : see Infinite. The reasoning mind being flnite, none but finite tilings
can be known to it, 7. In postulating either the infinite, or the finite, the other
perishes in the comparison, 8. In point of extension there is no ratio between the
infinite and the finite, ibid. There is the same proportion {i.e. none) between the
least finite and the infinite, as between the greatest and the same, 9. There is no
ratio between the two in point of motion and celerity, ibid. The finite must have
at least two terms or ends, 10, 101. It originates out of the multipUcation of
simples in a simple mode, or analogue of a mode, ibid, 101. The universe is finite

154

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

in the whole as in the parts, 55. Though the finite is as nothing relatively to the
infinite, yet the senses and reason dictate that it is something, 56. See Nexus.
Perfection, Simple. The essence of the finite, as such, consists in subjection to
degrees, and to the laws of succession and derived substantiality, 74. There are
none but mechanical and geometrical laws, or the analogues of such, in the finite
sphere, 95—97, 98—100. There is no finite without extension, or some analogue
of, or connexion with, extension, 97—100. Nature has once for aU been finited
by the infinite, 98. An unextended finite could neither act with, nor in, nor upon,
extension, ibid. The finite is inconceivable without attributes, consequently vrithout
form, which combined with extension is geometrical, 99. The simple finite is not the
same as the pure simple; it is finite, wljich the pure simple is not, 101. No essential
finite can produce a pure or total motion, 102.
Gentiles. By the coming of the Messiah, the primary end of Creation is ob
tained in the Gentiles tlirough their faith in the infinite, which faith implicitly
includes a faith in the Only-begotten Son, albeit they are ignorant of his coming ;
but the knowledge also of his coming is necessary for those who have the opportunity
to know him, 80—82.
Geometry. See Finite, Man, Nature, Soul.
God. All undertakings, to be prosperous, must begin from God, 5. By the
contemplatiou of nature we are led to an acknowledgment of God, 29. And hy
the structure of the human body, 30. See Gentiles, Idolatry, Infinite, Man,
Nature, Nexus, Philosophy, Revelation. AU tilings exist for no other final cause
but God alone, 62. The distinctions in the Godhead are not finite or natural dis
tinctions, 65, By the Only-begotten Son, who is infinite, the first finites are con
nected with the last, and both with God, 80.
Happiness and unhappiness are great in proportion to the opportunities and
faculties of men, 149. The Christian philosopher may be the happiest, or the unhap
piest, of mortals, ibid. See Knowledge.
Hearing is a principal instrument of the soul, as it is a main organ of edu
cating the rational mind, 37. Its organs are nearly of the same size in the infant
as in the adult, ibid. See Ear.
Idolatry. The source of error among vulgar idolaters is identical with its
soiirce among those philosophers who make an idol of nature, 47, 54.
Immortality. Our immortality is derivable from the fact, that we can know
and love God, and be conjoined, by acknowledgment, with his infinity, 112, 113.
See Soul. Those who fully beUeve in the existence of God, folly believe also in the
immortality of the soul ; and those who do not beUeve in the one, do not believe in
the other, 113. The immortaUty of the soul is as certain as the existence of God,
113. Immortality is declared by facts presented in our very bodies, ibid. See Love.
By the desire of propagation, and the love of offspring and posterity, i.e., of natural
immortaUty, 114. By the high value which the good set upon the state of their
souls, and their relatively sUght regard to the mortal state of their bodies, ibid. Im
mortaUty is also deducible from the connexion of the infinite with the soul, as of
the soul with the body, 115. It seems Ukely that the body of the first man might
have been immortal like his soul, &c., &c., 116.
Infinite, the, is the nodus of Philosophy, 6. In philosophizing, the mind
necessarUy comes at last to the unknown and the infinite, ibid., 19. In general
terms, there is no ratio between the infinite and the finite, 7. See Finite, Quantity.

INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 155
The infinite is not the least, or the greatest, of either geometrical, or mechanical
entities, 9. The pure and simple in nature is not identical with the infinite, 9, 10.
Quantity, space, motion, time, and aU things, naturaUy and rationally declare that
there is no infinity in any one of them, II. The infinite does not exist for any
rational, natural, or geometrical analysis, ibid. The infinity of God is impenetrable
aUke for men and angels, 12. Without the grace of God, a tme and steadfast con
fession of infinity is not to be expected from free reason, 13. The human mind is
forced by its very nature to reason on infinity, ibid. It is bound to acknowledge
the infinite in answer to the question of the cause of primitive nature, 17, 22. Also
in answer to the question of the least or first principle of nature, ibid. The infinite
can have no cause, but is in its own cause, 18. It is in the cause of itself, and in
the origin of itself, and is eternal in aU time, 19. Reason may be forced on
a ^Worj grounds to admit the infinite, ibid. See Nature. The infinite, i.e. God,
is the cause of nature, 21. See Wonder. We see the infinite in the perfection of
the primitive, as giving birth to an orderly and harmonious universe, 25. Nothing
of imperfection can issue from the infinite, 26, 27. See Sensation. There is a
tacit consent or conclusion of human souls to the being and infinity of God, 46. The
acknowledgment of the infinite is like reason itself, and comes partly from the soul
and partly from the body, ibid. This acknowledgment is an action of free reason,
when neither troubled too much by its own ideas, nor too destitute of all cultivation
and development, 47. See Providence. The infinite is not to be accounted as no
thing, though when compared with finites it is quasi nothing, 55. See End, Nexus.
There are infinite tilings in the infinite, 57. Infinity, when affirmed by reason, is to
be regarded as known iu point of existence, though by no means in quaUty, 58.
The universe was created primarUy, not for the flnite, but for the infinite, 62. By
the Only Begotten Son, the infinite became the last effect, at once God and Man,
the mediator between the finite and the infinite, 80. *
Knowledge. The more knowledge we possess, the more there is to make us
happy, and the more to make us unhappy, 149. See Faith, Gentiles.
Love : see Delight. It arises simply from the harmonious connexion of natural
parts, 113, 115. In the animal world, it aims to confer perpetual life even on the
body, ibid. The love of God towards the soul is analogous to the love of the soul
towards the body, and desirous to make the soul Uke itself confers immortaUty, 115.
Man was created to enjoy the delights of the world ; to associate worldly delights
with heavenly ; to carry the world to a new perfection ; and lastly, to increase the
number of the angels, 30. He is so created that his subtlest part shall Uve in a
sense above aU others, 32, 43, 44. See Delight, Reason. Finite man is only a
means, and not, unless in a secondary sense, an end, 63. Man is the ultimate
effect in the world, through which the Divine end can be obtained, 66—70, 71, 72.
All natural things concur as means to man, 68. Man is the ultimate effect, inasmuch
as he can comprehend and acknowledge the infinite end of his creation; not so brute
animals, 70. Hence his soul, and the necessity of his reason, which is the conjunc
tion between the soul and the body, ibid. In man dwells the veriest final cause of
creation, 71. There must be something divine and infinite in the finite man, other
wise the infinite could have no cause respecting it m the finite, ibid. This sometliing
does not Ue in the human senses, soul, or reason ; but in the fact that man acknow
ledges and believes in the existence and infinity of God, and by faith, feels in love,
and its delight, a connexion with the infinite, 71, 72. Man, with aU his parts and

156 INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
his very soul, is finite, 72. He may concur to dispose himself for the reception of
the infinite end, ibid. Nothing superlatively perfect in a finite sense can exist in
man, as he is finite and many times finite, 75. But see Soul. By the Only-begotteu
Son alone are we ultimate effects to the primary end, 80. See God. In man as a
natural being none but mechanical and geometrical laws are possible, 100.
Mechanism : see Finite, Man, Soul. AU extension undergoing motion, is
mechanical, 99. AU motion and mode is mechanical, ibid, 105. Mechanical laws
admit of superlative perfection as much as any other laws ; they too come from the
infinite, 109. Why may they not involve a power of the same kind as those otlier
laws which we suppose unknown, and hy which the soul is governed ? ibid.
Membrane. There are membranes in the human body, formed geometrically,
with exquisite precision, to receive aU the motions of the elements, 131 — 135.
These membranes are of different degrees of fineness, forming a scale corresponding
to the scale of motions ia the elements, 132. Tension is necessary in the membranes,
to enable them to receive motion, 133. The tension in the subtlest membranes
must be owing to the universal presence of a most subtle elemental fluid, 135. The
membranes feel, ibid. In themselves they are merely passive, 137. The membranes
are but organs between the external senses of the body and the soul, 141. Any
disorder of the membranes must cause ¦• want of just communication between the
body and the soul, ibid.
Mind. The mind greatly respects itself, 14.
Mode. The first modes, Uke the first entities, are most perfectly self-similar,
74. No compound can be formed without modes, ibid. AU modes, and analogues
of modes, begin in the primitive and not in the infinite, 89.
Motion : all motion or mode supposes the finite or substantial, 9, 123. See
Mechanism, Mutation, Sensation. Motion cannot be considered apart from figure,
99. Finite *ange of state, whether in the body or the soul, supposes motion, 121,
122. Motion is carried to the soul from the body ^cr contiguum, and is indeed most
distinct and subtle there, yet stiU like the motion of the grosser sphere, ibid. There
must be substances in man recipient of motion, and extending, as means, in a gradu
ated series, from the body to the soul, 123. Motion is nothing without substance,
ibid. It supposes the geometrical and mechanical element, ibid. The laws of motion
in the elements have similar laws corresponding to them in the human organs and
membranes, 137. As motions tend from the subtler to the grosser world, they lose
their perfections, and may even vanish away before reaching the grosser, 140. Mo
tions become relatively pure as they penetrate more deeply into the purer world, ibid.
Where the means and contiguity between the body and the soul are imperfect and
heterogeneous, motions reach the soul neither distinctly, purely, harmonicaUy, nor
delightfiiUy, ibid. See Soul.
Mutation. No perceptible operation can take place between the soul and the
body, vrithout a previous mutation in the animal contiguum or living space of the
body, 120, 121. No mutation can happen in the natural sphere without motion,
121. See Motion.
Nature. The first natural entity is a causate, but not in the same sense a cause,
17,21. It must originate from the infinite, 20. It is the seed and principle of aU
natural things, and has in it, in its own manner, everything that can exist in nature,
ibid., 21, 24, 44, 45. AU things issued from it in natural order, ibid., 24. Nature
is the second cause of the world, and not the first, 21. It is impossible to grant

INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 157
too many details respecting the involution of causes in the primitive entities of nature,
ibid., 44. See Cause. AU nature was once contained in the least first principles,
24, 44. The greater worshippers of nature we are, the greater worshippers of God
may we become, ibid. Nature and not God is the cause of imperfection, 27. There
b notliing natnral but is also divine, and nothing should claim admiration as natural,
but only as divine, ibid., 87. The natural is only obedience, and not even that,
inasmuch as the obedience is necessary and compeUed, ibid. We may fairly attribute
[causation] to nature, ibid. Nature derives from the infinite no conditions but those
of superlative simUarity, perfection and purity, 75. Whatever exists from the
primitive seed of nature to her largest compound, in a word, the totality of the
finite sphere, is aU natural, .87. The primitive is made natural by God immedi
ately ; other substances are made natural by Him mediately ; therefore the natural
is mediately divine, ibid. Nature has none but geometrical and mechanical laws,
105. Nexus. See Connexion, Finite, God, Infinite, Simple. There is a nexus, but
an infinite one, between the finite and the infinite, 57, 60. This nexus regards not
only existence but essence, 60. We cannot deny the nexus without destroying the
finite, ibid. The nature of the nexus is as unknown as that of the infinite, 60, 61.
Without this infinite nexus, the finite, as the end, would have no relation to the
beginning; as the last cause, no relation to the first, 61. The nexus is neither
mechanical, physical, nor geometrical, 63, 64. The nexus is to be regarded as
positive and afiirmed, though its quaUties are unknown, 64. The nexus, aflirmed
by reason, is also given in Revelation; i.e., the Only-begotten Son, ibid. The
connexion between the inflnite and the flnite is through the Son of God, Himself
infinite, 65. See Body. The Only-begotten Son furnishes a nexus between the
inflnite and the finite on the part of the body, 79. The instance of the soul and
the body throws some Ught upon the connexion between the inflnite and the world,
87. The nexus between the soul and the body has its limits or ends included in the
bodUy space, 119. In the microcosm, man, there is a membranous as well as an
elemental nexus running without a break from the body to the soul, 140.
Perfection. What God produced immediately could not faU to be superlatively
perfect, 26, 73. See Primitive of nature. God is not even remotely the cause of
imperfection, ibid., 78. The first finite cannot be absolutely perfect, though finitely
most perfect, 73. The eminent perfection of the primitive has innumerable par
ticulars as its grounds, ibid. AU the leasts of the world are finitely most perfect
and self-similar, ibid. The perfection of primitives necessarUy decreases by degrees
and series m derivatives, consequences and compounds, 74. Were aU things, from
first to last, equaUy perfect, or most perfect, the finite could not exist, ibid. See
Similarity. In this case perfection would not be finite, and would not involve aU
its own series, of perfect, more perfect, most perfect, ibid. There are necessarily
finiteness or degrees in finite perfection, 75. Derivatives are perfect in proportion
as they are near to the primitive, ibid. See Man.
Philosophy, when truly rational, connot be contrary to revelation, 3, 4. Phi
losophy has its own sphere, and wiU not be dispossessed of it by theology, 6. See
Infinite. The human mind, when free from cares and opposing circumstances, is
ambitiously philosophical, 7. The persistency of the philosopher in this respect,
is unavoidable, natural and human, 13, 59. We are in duty bound to meet the
erring philosopher by his own phUosophy, 14, 59. But we cannot vanquish the

158

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

sceptical philosopher with his own arguments, ibid. See Idolatry. The failures of
phUosophers in their ideas of God, are due to their making the qualities of the in-
finite an object of investigation, 51—54. The phUosophers admire the last result
of thought as God, seeking their deity from the ground of mere admiration or igno
rance, 52. Some phUosophers, to identify God with nature, have supposed the
latter to be infinite and eternal, 54, 65.
Primitive of Nature. All future things were present, and inexistent in act,
in the primitive entity, 26. Nothing but superlative perfection can reside in the
primitive, ibid. There can be no mean between the infinite and the primitive, 59.
Providence, in the infinite, cannot be separated from previdence, 50, 76.
God's previdence and providence are instantaneous, coincident, and infinite, ibid., 76.
Quantity. There is no quantity infinitely smaU, 8.
Reason is a faculty partaking of both the soul and the body, 3, 72, 142. Man
is to perceive by it what things are revealed, and what are created, 4. The rational
cannot be contrary to the divine, nor the mysteries above reason, contrary to reason,
ibid., 86. The use of reason in treating of God, the soul, &c., is legitimate, un
avoidable and laudable, 14. It is not safe to seek causes and reasons from any other
source than reason, ibid. Reason is the fruit of the intercourse between the soul
and the body, 72. See Man. Truly rational theology wiU never attempt to pene
trate into the mysteries of infinity, 86. Reason is superadded to the senses, to
enable us to infer the nature of causes and effects which are above the senses, 97.
Reason should begin where the eye ceases, 133. Rationality is never the product
of the soul alone, 142. See Revelation.
Revelation : see God, Philosophy, Reason. Revelation discovers much
whereby man may finitely conceive and express God ; though no finite perceptions
and expressions can be simUar or adequate to God, but may be simply not repugnant,
58. Revelation and reason, natural theology and revealed, must mutually aid and
assist each other, 85:
Scripture. What is proved by Holy Scripture, needs no proof from reason,
rational philosophy, or geometry, 13.
Sensation. There is no sense without nerves, and there is no mean to sense
in nerves but motion, 42. We are better led to acknowledge the infinite by effects
and the senses, than by the other ways or methods of the soul, 46. The end of
the senses is, to lead us sensually to an acknowledgment of God, ibid. All sense
owes its existence to the soul. See Author, Delight, End, Soul.
Similarity : see Mode, Nature, Perfection. The superlatively perfect self-
similarity of the primitive entities, becomes gradually less and less in derivatives,
75, 116. The simUarity of the parts of the subtler sphere, implies their perfection
both in substance and mode, 117. Similars are less obnoxious to mutabiUty, ibid.
Simple. The simple principle of nature has only one limit, and therefore is
not finite, 10, 100, 101. See Infinite. The simple is not otherwise derivable than
immediately from the infinite, 18, 60. Time and succession cannot be predicated
of the pure simple, but in point of origin it is instantaneous, yet not eternal, hut
in a manner before time, 19. See Finite, Perfection. The soul is not a pure simple,
100. The simple alone, which is neither infinite nor finite, can produce pure and
total motion, 102.
Soul, the, is given to the body out of the purer and more perfect world, 72,
76, 77. And this, of God's foreknowledge and providence, to ensure obtaining

INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 159
the primary end of creation through otherwise imperfect man, 76, 77, 79. The
soul of the first man was superlatively rational and perfect, 77. The soul is intended
to make the body in its own likeness, and to give it its own perfections, ibid., 148.
The soul must be instructed by the senses, to enable it to instruct the body, and
both to tend to the primary end, 83. All the faculties of the body are mediately
the property of the soul, but distinct rationaUty is its immediate minister and efflu
ence, 87, 88. The soul and its spirits (spiritus animates) are finite, 93, 104. The
soul is amenable to laws, and these also are finite, 93, 94. The soul can adapt
itself to the body, be formed afresh, and take upon it the Ukeness of the body, and
still the members obey its operation, 94, 141, 144, 148, 149. Distinct quality is
predicable of the soul, especiaUy as it is united and limited to a particular body,
ibid. The soul is not a pure simple, 100. Nor a simple finite, unless activity be
regarded as' involved in such finite, 102. The soul must be capable of being con
fined to its own body ; hence it cannot be purely active, but must have a passive
surface or expanse, to enclose or shut in its actives, 102 — 104, 146, 147. This
secures its actuaUty and permanence, not only in the body, but after its release from
the body, 103. See Active. The soul is bound by geometrical and mechanical
laws ; it is in nature, and is natural, and a part among the physical constituents of
the body, 104, 105, 108. The soul may be justifiably regarded from animate
machines, 107. The soul is immortal by the grace of God, and its mechanical nature
does not impugn its spirituaUty, ibid, 108, 112 — 117. Self-simUarity reigns among
aU the parts of the soul, ibid. It is naturaUy impossible that the soul should die,
as there are no elements in nature to harm it, 108. There is no reason to despair,
like the phUosophers, of attaining a knowledge of the soul, 108 — 110, 147. Igno
rance of the state of the soul may easUy lead to denial of its existence, 110 — 112.
See Motion, Mutation. By the use and employment of discordant modes, the soul
may become assimUated to the grosser world, and its harmonies become discords,
141. In this case, after death, the presence of aught from the purer world wUl
give it painful misery, ibid. The soul is the centre of the bodUy motions, 142.
It performs its analysis upon them in its own pure and self-similar sphere, and rests
therein harmonicaUy and deUghtfiilly, ibid. The soul is primarily seated in the cor
tical or cineritious substance of the brain, where the membranes assume their finest
attenuations, 143. The soul is self-simUar wherever it is, and is formed according
to the motion of the middle membranes, 144. The soul is of different formation in
different brains, ibid. There }s generaUy, though not always, a simflitude between
the soul and the body, 145. The soul is neither elemental nor membranous, but a
most active essence; not unlike the actives mentioned in our Principia, 145. See
Active. ActuaUty in the soul involves modes, and these must be referable to sub
stances, 146. The membranous surface of the soul must have a centre, by which,
and the distances from which, aU that is most distinct may exist, 147. See Souls
of Animals. We may arrive at a knowledge of the soul, if we assume that its
actuaUty consists in a motion and power supremely mechanical, and its surface
in a flgure supremely geometrical, and afterwards examine experience, relative to all
anatomy, all the mental faculties, then: differences, &c., and many other subjects,
148. The state of the soul is more easUy concluded from the actions of men than
from their reasons, ibid.
Souls of Animals, the, are formed in the Ukeness of the human soul, but
they are gross and elemental, and do. not consist of the actives which constitute the
actuaUty of reason, but have an elemental ground, 147.

160 INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
Terms. When high subjects are treated, all expressions that can make the
reader pause, should be avoided, 3.
Time involves the mechanical element, aud is simUar to the geometrical, 11.
See Infinite, Simple.
Vibration. All vibrations tend naturaUy to run in circles and curves, 40.
They love spiral, circular and hyperboUc curves, 42. See Ear, Element, Hearing.
The vibration of membranes is always as the distance from the centre, &c., &c., &c.,
137—139. Wonder : see Cause. We wonder at the causes and leasts of things, as involving
the quality of producing, more than at the products or ultimate things themselves,
23, 24, 25. Wonder rises to higher powers in contemplating causes, ibid., 24, 25,
29, 30. The closing wonder is felt when we acknowledge the cause of the least in
the inflnite, ibid., 24, 25. We do not wonder at the cause of nature merely as a
cause, but as an infinitely inteUigent cause, 24.
Worship. There is nothing, whether dead or alive, but adores and worships
God, since all things tend to obtain the divine end in the ultimate effect, 83.

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Sapientia Angelica de Divina Providentia. 5s.
Summaria Expositio Doctrinse Novae Ecclesiae. Sewed, Is.

SWEDENBORG'S WORKS.

Delitige Sapientiae de Amore Conjugiali : post quas sequuntur
Voluptates insaniae de Amore Scortatorio. Ordinary Edition, 5a. ; Medium Edition, 7s. 6d. ,
Fine Edition, lOs.
De Commercio Animse et Corporis, quod creditur fieri vel per influxum
physicum, vel per iufluxum spiritualem, vel per harmoniam prsestabilitam. 6d.
Vera Christiana Religio, continens Universam Theologiam Novse
Ecclesise, 2 vola. 12b.
Adversaria in Libros Veteris Testamenti, Continens Explicationem
Geneseos, Leviticum, Num,eros, Deuteronomium, Josuam, Judices, Ruth, Idamuelem,
Reges, Chronicaj Esajam, eb Jeremiam. 4 vols. 7s. 6d. each.
Diarium Spirituale. E Chirographo in Bibliotheca Regise Academise
Holmiensia asseiTato. 4 vols. 7s. 6d. each.
The Third volume is a common Index -to the Memorabilia of both the Diarium and Ad
versaria, and one of the most valuable of Swedenborg's posthumous works.
Apocalypsis Explicata secundum Sensum Spiritualem ; TJbi revelantur
Arcana, quae ibi prsedicta, et hactenus ignota fuerunt. Vols. I., IL, III., 3a. each.
Summaria Expositio sensus interni Prophetarum et Psalmorum.
Sewed, Is. 6d.
Dicta Probantia Veteris et Novi Testamenti coUecta et breviter ex
plicata. Sewed, Is.
Index Biblicus, sive Thesaurus Bibliorum Emblematicus AUegoricus.
Vols. I., II., IK., 5s. each. Vol. IV., 7s. 6d. Supplementum Vol. IV. continens Nomina
Virorum^ Terrarum, Urbium, 6d.
Latin Editions, 4to.
Apocalypsis Explicata secundum Sensum Spiritualem. ; ITbi reve
lantur Arcana, qute ibi pr^dicta, et hactenus ignota fuerunt. Vols. III. and IV., boards,
10s. each.
Index Kerum in Apocalypsi Hevelata. Sewed, 2s.
Index Verborum, Wominum, et Rerum in Arcanis Coelestibus,
Sewed, 6s.
dusestiones Novem de Trinitate, &c. Ad Emanuelem Swedenborg,
propositEe a Thoma Hartley ; turn iUius Responsa. Sewed, 2s.

LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, AND PHILOSOPHICAL.
English Editions, 8vo.
Miscellaneous Observations connected with the Physical Sciences.
With an Appendix containing Swedenborg's Papers from the Acta Literaria Svecim. Trans
lated from the Latin, with Introductory Remarks. Biographical Notices, and index of
Subjects, by Chaeles E. Strutt. Ono vol. Svo, 28. 6d. 1722.
Outlines of a Philosophical Argument on the Inflnite, and the Final
Cause of Creation ; and on the Intercourse between the Soul and the Body. Translated
from the Latin, with Introductory Remarks and Index, by J. J. Gauth Wilkinson, M,D.
One vol. Svo, 23. 6d. 1734.
The Economy of the Animal Kingdom, considered Anatomically,
Physically, and Philosophically, Translated from the Latin by the Rev. Augustus
Clissold, M.A,, and Edited, with Introductory Remarks, Indexes, Bibliographical Notices,
etc., by James John Gakth Wilkinson, M.U. Two vols. Svo, 12s. . 1740.

4 SWEDENBORG'S WOEKS.
The Animal Kingdom, considered Anatomically, Physically, and
Philosophically, Translated from the Latin, with Introductory Remarks, Indexes, Biblio
graphical Notices, etc, by J, J, Gaeth Wilkinson, M.D, Two vols. Svo, 20s, 1744-5,
Posthumous Tracts. Translated from the Latin by J. J. Q-. Wil
kinson, M.D. Svo, 2s. 6d,
*,< Tki» Wori is a Translation of the Opiiscula mentioned •mder.
A Hieroglyphic Key to Natural and Spiritual Mysteries by way of
Representations and Correspondences, Translated from the Latin by J, J. Garth Wil
kinson, M.D. Sewed, is, Latin Editions, 8to.
Itinerarium, ex operibus Eman. Swedenborgii posthumis. Partes I.,
II. Nunc primum edidit Dr, J, F, E, Tafel, Sewed, 23,
CEconomia Regni Animalis in Transactiones Divisa ; ftuarum hsec
Tertia de Fibra, de Tunica Arachnoidea, et de Morbis Fibrariim agit ; anatomice, physice,
et philosophiee perlustrata. B chirographo m Bibliotheca Regia. Academi»e Holmiensia
asservato, nunc primum edidit J, J, Gartb Wilkinson, Beg, Cull, Chu^urg, Lond, Memb,
Svo, 6s,
ReenumAnimale Anatomice, Physice, et Philosophiee perlustratum ;
cuius Supplementum, sive Partis Sextas sectio Prima de Periosteo et do Mammis agit ; et
pTtis Sexto Sectio Secunda de Generatione ; de partibus genitahbue utrmsque sexus, et de
Formatione foetus in Utero agit, Svo, cloth, 4s.
Regnum Animale Anatomice, Physice, et Philosophiee perlustratum;
oujus Pars Septima de Anima agit. Svo, 43.
Clavis Hieroglyphica Arcanoru,m Naturalium et Spiritualium, per
viam Bepraesentationum et Correspondentiarum. 4to, 4b. 6d,
Opuscula ausedam Argument! PMlosophici. Ex Autographo in
mwiotheca Regi» Aeadenda, Holmiensis asservato, nunc primum edidit J. J. Gaeth Wil
kinson, Reg. Coll. Chii-urg. Lond, Memb. 1 vol. Svo, Ss.
T AT,T,»"i Senecse et Pub. Syri Mimi, forsan et aUorum selectee Sen-
adjeoit, Dr, J, F, E, Tafel. Sewed, Is,
¦Ludus Heliconius, sive Carmina Miscellanea, quae variis in loois
ceciSii^.TEr,'BEEa [Swedenboeg], Recensuit Dr, J, F. B, Tafel, Sewed, Is, 1714,
rowBTin Borea cum heroum et heroidum factis ludens, sive Fabellse
^'''^S^dia^Sos. S. Ab E.AN. SWEOBEEG [SWEDENBOEG], Edidit Dr. J. F, E, Tafel,
Sewed, 28,

All the Works mentioned in this List are forwarded Post or Cairiage free
to any Address in the United Kingdom on receipt of theu^ cost.
Stamps may be sent for sums wt exceeding Three Shillings.
Money Orders should be made payable to James Speies, at the Post
Office, Great Bussell Street, W.C.
THE' SWEDENBORG SOCIETY, BRITISH AND FOREIGN,
(INSTITOTBD 1810),
36, BLOOMSBURY STREET, LONDON.

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