Father Malebranche his treatise concerning the search after truth The whole work complete. To which is added the author's Treatise of nature and grace: being a consequence of the principles contained in the search. Together with his answer to the animadversions upon the first volume: his defence against the accusations of Monsieur De la Ville, &c. relating to the same subject. All translated by T. Taylor, M.A. late of Magdalen College in Oxford.

Father Malebranche his treatise concerning the search after truth The whole work complete. To which is added the author's Treatise of nature and grace: being a consequence of the principles contained in the search. Together with his answer to the animadversions upon the first volume: his defence against the accusations of Monsieur De la Ville, &c. relating to the same subject. All translated by T. Taylor, M.A. late of Magdalen College in Oxford.

Table of contents

Title page

THE PREFACE.

§

1

F. MALEBRANCHE'S TREATISE, CONCERNING The Search after Truth. BOOK the FIRST. Concerning The ERRORS of the SENSES.

CHAP. I.

CHAP. II.

CHAP. III.

CHAP. IV.

CHAP. V.

CHAP. VI.

CHAP. VII.

CHAP. VIII.

CHAP. IX.

CHAP. X.

CHAP. XI.

CHAP. XII.

CHAP. XIII.

CHAP. XIV.

CHAP. XV.

CHAP. XVI.

CHAP. XVII.

CHAP. XVIII.

CHAP. XIX.

CHAP. XX.

F. MALEBRANCHE'S TREATISE, CONCERNING The Search after TRUTH. BOOK the SECOND, Concerning The IMAGINATION.

THE FIRST PART.

CHAP. I.

CHAP. II.

CHAP. III.

CHAP. IV.

CHAP. V.

CHAP. VI.

CHAP. VII.

CHAP. VIII.

The SECOND PART: Concerning The IMAGINATION.

CHAP. I.

CHAP. II.

CHAP. III.

CHAP. IV.

CHAP. V.

CHAP. VI.

CHAP. VII.

CHAP. VIII.

CHAP. IX.

The THIRD PART: Concerning The CONTAGIOUS COMMUNICATION Of Strong IMAGINATIONS.

CHAP I.

CHAP. II.

CHAP. III.

CHAP. IV.

CHAP. V.

CHAP. VI.

F. MALEBRANCHE'S TREATISE, CONCERNING The Search after TRUTH. BOOK the THIRD, Concerning The UNDERSTANDING, OR The Pure Intellect.

CHAP. I.

CHAP. II.

CHAP. III.

CHAP. IV.

The SECOND PART: Concerning The Pure UNDERSTANDING. Of the NATURE of IDEA'S.

CHAP. I.

CHAP. II.

CHAP. III.

CHAP. IV.

CHAP. V.

CHAP. VI.

CHAP. VII.

CHAP. VIII.

CHAP. IX.

CHAP. X.

CHAP. XI.

The Conclusion of the Three First Books.

F. MALEBRANCHE's TREATISE Concerning the SEARCH after TRUTH. BOOK IV. Concerning the Inclinations, or Natural Motions of the Mind.

CHAP. I.

CHAP. II.

CHAP. III.

CHAP. IV.

CHAP. V.

CHAP. VI.

CHAP. VII.

CHAP. VIII.

CHAP. IX.

CHAP. X.

CHAP. XI.

CHAP. XII.

CHAP. XIII.

2

PREFACE to the Second Volume; Which may serve as an Answer to the ANIMADVERSIONS on the First.

ANIMADVERSIONS. The Second Supposition concerning Necessary Truths, Page 9. ANIMADVERSIONS.

ANSWER.

ADVERTISEMENT.

F. MALEBRANCHE's TREATISE Concerning the SEARCH after TRUTH. TOME II. BOOK V.

CHAP. I.

CHAP. II.

CHAP. III.

CHAP. IV.

CHAP. V.

CHAP. VI.

CHAP. VII.

CHAP. VIII.

CHAP. IX.

CHAP. X.

CHAP. XI.

CHAP. XII.

F. MALEBRANCHE's TREATISE Concerning the SEARCH after TRUTH. BOOK VI. Concerning METHOD.

CHAP. I.

CHAP. II.

CHAP. III.

CHAP. IV.

CHAP. V.

THE SECOND PART OF THE SIXTH BOOK, Concerning METHOD.

CHAP. I.

CHAP. II.

CHAP. III.

CHAP. IV.

CHAP. V.

CHAP. VI.

CHAP. VII.

CHAP. VIII.

CHAP. IX.

The CONCLUSION of the Three last BOOKS.

ILLUSTRATIONS UPON THE FOREGOING BOOKS.

The PREFACE:

ADVERTISEMENT.

ILLUSTRATIONS UPON THE TREATISE Concerning the SEARCH after TRUTH.

THE FIRST ILLUSTRATION UPON THE First CHAPTER of the First BOOK. God works whatever is real in the Motions of the Mind, and in the Determinations of them; notwithstanding which, he is not the Author of Sin. He works whatever is real in the Sensations of Concupiscence, and yet is not the Author of it.

God works whatever is real in the Sensations of Concupiscence, and yet is not the Author of Concupiscence.

THE SECOND ILLUSTRATION UPON THE First CHAPTER of the First BOOK; Where I say, That the Will cannot diversly determine its Propensity to Good, but by commanding the Vnderstanding to represent to it some particular Object.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Third CHAPTER of the First BOOK; Where I say, That Mysteries of Faith being of a Supernatural Order, we need not wonder if we want the Evidence, since we want the Ideas of them.

THE ILLUSTRATION On these Words of the Fifth CHAPTER of the First BOOK, This being the Case, it ought to be concluded that Adam was not invited to the Love of God, and the rest of his Duty, by a preventing Pleasure; forasmuch as the Knowledge which he had of God, as of his Good, and the Joy he was continually possess'd with, necessarily consequent to the View of his Felicity in his uniting himself with God, were sufficient Motives to recommend his Duty to him, and to make his Actions more meritorious than if he had been, as it were, determin'd by a preventing Pleasure.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Fifth CHAPTER of the First BOOK; Where I say, That Preventing Delight is the Grace of JESUS CHRIST.

THE ILLUSTRATION Upon what I have said at the Beginning of the Tenth CHAPTER of the First BOOK, And in the Sixth CHAPTER of the Second BOOK, CONCERNING METHOD: That 'tis very difficult to prove the Existence of Bodies: What we ought to Esteem of the Proofs which are brought of their Existence.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Fifth CHAPTER of the Second BOOK. Of the Memory, and Spiritual Habits.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Seventh CHAPTER of the Second BOOK. A Reduction of the Proofs and Explications I have given of Original Sin: Together with the Answer to the Objections, that I thought most urgent.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

OBJECTIONS Against the Proofs and Explications of Original Sin.

OBJECTION against the first Article.

§

ANSWER.

Second OBJECTION against the First Article.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION against the Second Article.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION against the Fourth Article.

ANSWER.

Second OBJECTION against the Fourth Article.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION against the Fifth Article.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION against the sixth Article.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION against the Seventh Article.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION against the Eleventh and Twelfth Articles.

ANSWER.

The Second OBJECTION against the Eleventh and Twelfth Articles.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION against the Twelfth Article.

ANSWER.

Second OBJECTION against the Twelfth Article.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION against the Seventeenth and following Articles.

ANSWER.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Third CHAPTER of the Third PART of the Second BOOK. Wherein I speak of the power of Imagination of some Authors, and particularly of Tertullian.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Nature of IDEAS. Wherein I explain how we see all things in God, both Truths and Laws Eternal.

Against what has been said, that none but God enlightens us, and that we see all things in him. OBJECTION I.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION II.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION III.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION.

ANSWER.

OBJECTION.

ANSWER.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Seventh CHAPTER of the Second PART of the Third BOOK. Where I prove, That we have no clear Idea of the Nature, or Modifications of our Soul.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Eighth CHAPTER of the Second PART of the Third BOOK. Of loose and general terms which signify nothing. How they are distinguish'd from others.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Conclusion of the Three First BOOKS. That Physicians and Casuists are absolutely necessary for us; But that it is dangerous to consult and follow them in many occasions.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Third CHAPTER of the Fifth BOOK. That Love is different from Pleasure and Joy.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Third CHAPTER of the Second PART of the Sixth BOOK. Concerning the Efficacy ascribed to Second Causes.

ARGUMENT I.

ANSWER.

ARGUMENT II.

ANSWER.

ARGUMENT III.

ANSWER.

ARGUMENT IV.

ANSWER.

ARGUMENT V.

ANSWER.

ARGUMENT VI.

ANSWER.

ARGUMENT VII.

ANSWER.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON WHAT I have said in the Fourth Chapter of the Second Part, concerning Method, and elsewhere. That God Acts always with Order, and by the simplest ways.

THE DEFENCE OF THE AUTHOR OF THE TREATISE Concerning the Search after Truth, Against the Accusation of Monsieur de la VILLE. In which is shewn, That if Particular Persons be allow'd to call in Question the FAITH of others, upon Consequences well or ill drawn from their Principles, no Man could be secure from the Imputation of Heresie.

ARGUMENT I.

The first Consequence opposite to Faith. That God is Vnjust.

The second Consequence contrary to Faith. That God Wills Disorder, and that Nature is not corrupted.

The third Consequence contrary to Faith. The Soul of Man is Mortal, or at least the Souls of Beasts pass from one Body to another.

ARGUMENT II.

A Consequence opposite to the first Principle of Morality, which obliges us to love God with all our Strength, and to fear none but Him.

ARGUMENT III. The Consequence of the Principle propos'd by Monsieur de la Ville, as a Point of Faith, viz. That the Essence of Body consists not in Extension. This negative Principle overthrows the only demonstrative and direct Proof we have of the Soul's being a distinct Substance from the Body, and consequently of her Immortality.

F. MALEBRANCHE's TREATISE CONCERNING Light and Colours. BEING AN ILLUSTRATION OF THE Fourth CHAPTER of his Sixth BOOK. Never before Printed.

§

§

ADVERTISEMENT.

CONCERNING Nature and Grace. DISCOURSE I. Of the Necessity of the General Laws of NATURE and of GRACE.

PART I. Of the Necessity of the General Laws of Nature.

PART II. Of the Necessity of the General Laws of GRACE.

CONCERNING Nature and Grace. DISCOURSE II. Of the Laws of GRACE in particular, and of the Occasional Causes, which regulate and determine their Efficacy.

PART I. Of the Grace of JESVS CHRIST.

PART II. Of the Grace of the CREATOR.

CONCERNING Nature and Grace. DISCOURSE III. Of the Manner of GRACE's acting in us.

PART I. Concerning Liberty.

PART II. Of GRACE.

THE ILLUSTRATION OR CONTINUATION OF THE TREATISE CONCERNING Nature and Grace.

What is meant by acting by General and Particular Wills.

MARKS by which we may judge whether an Effect be produc'd by a General or Particular Will.

First OBJECTION.

Second OBJECTION.

PROOFS founded on REASON.

§

[Page]

[Page]

Father MALEBRANCHE HIS TREATISE Concerning the SEARCH after TRUTH.

The Whole WORK Complete.

To which is Added The AUTHOR's TREATISE OF Nature and Grace: BEING A Consequence of the PRINCIPLES contained in the SEARCH.

Together with His ANSWER to the ANIMADVERSIONS upon the First Volume: His DEFENCE against the ACCUSATIONS of Monsieur De la Ville, &c. Relating to the same Subject.

All TRANSLATED by T. TAYLOR, M. A. Late of Magdalen College in OXFORD.

The SECOND EDITION, Corrected with great Exactness.

With the ADDITION, of A Short Discourse upon LIGHT and COLOURS, By the same AUTHOR.

Communicated in Manuscript to a Person of Quality in ENGLAND: And never before Printed in any Language.

LONDON, Printed by W. Bowyer, for Thomas Bennet at the Half-Moon, and T. Leigh and W. Midwinter at the Rose and Crown, in St. Paul's Church-yard. 1700.

THE PREFACE.

[Page]

[Page]

THE Mind of Man is, as it were, by its Nature situated between its Creator and Corporeal Creatures; nothing, according to Nihil est potentius illa cre [...]tura, quae m [...]s dici [...]ur rationalis. nihil est [...]: Quicquid [...] illam est jam creator est. Tr. 23. in Joan. Quod rationali anima melius est, omnibus conscentientibus, Deus est. Aug. St. Austin, being above it but GOD, nor beneath it but Body. But as the great Elevation it obtains above all Material Beings, is no hindrance to its uniting with them, and even to its Depending, after a sort, upon a Piece of Matter; so, notwithstanding the infinite distance between the Sovereign Being and the Humane Mind, the latter is immediately and most intimately united with the former. This last Union exalts the Mind above all things; 'tis this which gives it Life and Light, and all its Happiness: And of this Union it is St. Austin speaks in very many Places of his Works, as of that which is most Natural and Essential to it: On the contrary, the Union it has with the Body extremely debases it, and is at this Day the Principal Cause of all its Errours and its Miseries.

I do not wonder that the vulgar part of Men, or that the Heathen Philosophers should only consider in the Soul its Relation and Union with the Body, without acknowledging any Union or Relation that it has to GOD: But I admire that the Christian Philosophers, who ought to prefer the Spirit of GOD to the Mind of Man, Moses to Aristotle, St. Austin to any wretched Commentatour upon an Heathen Philosopher, should regard the Soul rather as the Form of the Body, than as made in and for the Ad ipsam similitudinem non omnia facta sunt, sed sola substantia rationalis: quare omnia per ipsam, sed ad ipsam non, nisi anima rationalis. Itaque substantia rationalis & per ipsam facta est, & ad ipsam: non est enim ulla natura interposita. Lib. Imp. de Gen. ad Litt. Rectissime dicitur factus ad Imaginem & Similitudinem Dei, non enim aliter incommutabilem veritatem posset mente conspicere. De ver. Rel. Image of GOD; that is, according to St. Austin, for Truth; to which alone She is immediately united. 'Tis true, the Soul is united to the Body, and is naturally the Form of it; but 'tis likewise true, that she is united to GOD in a much stricter and more essential manner. The Relation she has to her Body might have not been: But her Relation to GOD is so essential, that 'tis impossible to conceive GOD should create a Spirit without it.

It is evident that GOD can have no other End of acting than Himself; that He cannot create Spirits but to know and love Him; that he can neither give them any Knowledge, nor impress upon them any Love, but what is for, and tends to Himself; but He might have refus'd to unite to Bodies those Spirits which He has united. Therefore the Relation of our Minds to GOD is Natural, Necessary, and absolutely Indispensible: But their Relation to our Bodies, though Natural, is not of absolute Necessity, nor of indispensible Obligation.

This is not a proper place to alledge all the Authorities and Arguments which might induce us to believe, That it's more essential to the Mind to be united to GOD than to a Body. That would carry us out too far. To expose this Truth in its just Light, it would be necessary to overthrow the principal Foundations of Pagan Philosophy; to explain the Corruptions of Sin; to encounter what is falsly named Experience; and to argue against the Prejudices and Delusions of the Senses. So that to give the common sort of Men a perfect Knowledge of it, is not so easie a Task as may be undertaken in a Preface.

However, 'tis not difficult to make it out to Attentive Persons, and such as are skill'd in True Philosophy: For they need only be put in Mind, That since the Will of GOD Regulates the Nature of all things, it is more congenial to the Nature of the Soul to be united to GOD by the Knowledge of Truth, and by the Love of Good, than to be united to the Body; since 'tis certain, as is abovesaid, that GOD created Spirits more for the Knowledge and Love of Him than for the Informing Bodies. This Argument is instantly able to startle Minds any whit enlightned▪ to render them attentive, and afterwards to convince them. But 'tis morally impossible for Minds immers'd in Flesh and Blood, whose Knowledge goes no farther than their Senses, to be ever convinc'd with such kind of Reasonings. No Proofs will serve these People, but such as may be even felt and handled, since every thing seems Chimerical, that makes not some Impression on their Senses.

[Page] Mens quod non sentit, nisi cum purissima & beatissima est, nulli cohaeret, nisi ipsi veritati, quae similitudo & imago patris, & sapientia dicitur. August. lib. imp. de Gen. ad [...] ▪The First Man's Sin has so weakned the Union of our Mind with GOD, that none but those whose Heart is purify'd, and Mind enlightned, can perceive it: For 'tis an imaginary Union in their Opinions, who blindly follow the Judgments of the Senses and Motions of the Passions.

On the contrary, it has so strengthned the Soul's Union with the Body, as to make us think these two parts of our selves but one single Substance; or rather, has so enslav'd us to our Senses and Passions, as to persuade us our Body is the Principal of the Two Parts whereof we are compos'd.

If we consider the different Occupations of Men, we shall have all the Reason in the World to believe they have this so mean and gross a Notion of themselves. For whereas they all love Felicity, and the Perfection of their Being; and are constantly labouring to grow happier, or more perfect; could it be suppos'd they set not a greater value on the Body, and the Goods of it, than on the Mind, and the Goods of that, when we find them almost always employ'd about things relating to the former, and seldom or never thinking on those that are absolutely necessary to the perfection of the latter?

The greatest part of Mankind lay themselves out with so much Industry and Pains, merely for the Support of a wretched Life, and to leave their Children some necessary Sustenance for the Preservation of their Bodies.

Such as by their good Fortune, or Chance of Birth, are freed from that Necessity, do no better manifest by their Business and Employments, that they look upon the Soul as the Nobler p [...]ri of their Being: Hunting, Dancing, Gaming, Feasting, are their ordinary Occupations. Their Soul, grown the Slave of their Body, esteems and cherishes all these Divertisements, though wholly unworthy of Her. But because their Body is related to all things sensible, the Soul is not only the Slave of their Body, but through its means, and for its sake, of all things sensible likewise: For 'tis by the Body that they are united to their Relations, their Friends, their City, their Office, and all sensible Goods; the Preservation of which seems as necessary and valuable as that of their own Being. Thus the Care of their Fortunes, and the Desire of increasing them, their Passion for Glory and Grandeur, busies and imploys them infinitely more than the Perfection of their Soul.

Even Men of Learning, and Dealers in Wit, spend more than one half of their Life in Actions purely Animal, or such as give us Reason to think their Health, their Estates, and Reputations, are of dearer Concern than the Perfection of their Minds.

They study more to acquire a Chimerical Grandeur in the Imagination of others, than to give their Mind greater Force and Comprehension. They make a kind of Wardrobe of their Brain, wherein they huddle, without Order or Distinction, whatever bears a certain Character of Learning; I mean, whatever can appear but Rare and Extraordinary, and provoke others to admire them. Their Ambition lies in resembling those Cabinets fill'd with Relicks and Curiosities, which have nothing truly Rich or Valuable, but derive their Worth from Fancy, Passion, or Chance; and they rarely labour to make their Mind accurate, and to regulate the Motions of their Heart.

Non exigua hominis portio, sed totius humanae universitatis substantia est. Ambr. 6. Hexam. 7.Yet it should not be thought from hence, that Men are intirely ignorant that they have a Soul, and that this their Soul is the Principal part of their Being. They have too been again and again convinc'd, both by Reason and Experience, that 'tis no so considerable an Advantage to live in Reputation, Affluence, and Health, the space of a few Years; and in general, that all Corporeal Goods, all that are possess'd by Means, and for the sake of the Body, are Imaginary and Corruptible Goods. They know 'tis better to be Just than Rich, to be Reasonable than Learned; to have a Lively and Penetrating Mind, than to have a Brisk and Active Body. These are Truths indelibly imprinted on the Mind, and infallibly discover'd whenever Men please to attend to them. Homer, for Instance, who extols his Hero for his Swiftness, might have perceiv'd, if he would, that 'twas an Elogy fitter for a Race-Horse, or a Greyhound. Alexander, so celebrated in History for his Illustrious Robberies, heard sometimes from his most Retir'd Reason the same Reproaches as Villains and Thieves, in spight of the confus'd Noise of a surrounding Crowd of Flatterers. and Caesar, when he pass'd the Rubicon, could not help manifesting how these inward Lashes terrified him, when at last he had resolv'd to sacrifice the Liberty of his Country to his Ambition.

Ubi (que) veritas praesides omnibus consulentibus te, simulque respondes omnibus etiam diversa consulentibus. Liquide tu respondes, sed non liquide omnes audiunt. Omnes unde volunt consulun [...], sed non semper quod volunt audiunt. Conf. S. Aug. lib. 10. cap. 26.The Soul however united very strictly to the Body, is nevertheless united to GOD; and at that very time of her receiving by her Body the lively and confus'd Sensations her Passions inspite into her, she receives from the Eternal Truth, presiding over her Understanding, the Knowledge of her Duty and Irregularities. When her treacherous Body deceives her, GOD undeceives her. When it indulges, He wounds her. When it gives her Incense and Applauses, He strikes her inward with smarting Remorses, and condemns her by the Manifestation of a more Pure and Holy Law than that of the Flesh, which she has obey'd.

V. Quint. Curt. lib. 7. cap. 8. Int [...]s in domicilio cogitationis, nec Hebraea, nec Graca, nec Latina, nec Barbara veritas, sine oris & linguae organis, sine strepi [...] syllabarum. Confess. S. Aug. l. 11. c. 3. Alexander needed not that the Scythians should have come to teach him his Duty in a strange Language: He knew from Him who teaches the Scythians, and the most Barbarous Nations, the [Page] Rules of Justice which he ought to follow. The Light of Truth, which enlightens the World, enlightned him also; and the Voice of Nature, which speaks neither in Greek nor Scythian, nor Barbarian Dialect, spoke to him, as to the rest of the World, in a most clear and most intelligible Language. In vain did the Scythians upbraid him with his Conduct; their Words struck no deeper than his Ears: And GOD not speaking home to his Heart; or rather, GOD speaking to his Heart, whilst he heard only the Scythians, who but provok'd his Passions, and so led him out of himself, he heard not the Voice of Truth, though loud as Thunder, nor saw its Light, though it pierc'd him through and through.

'Tis true, our Union with GOD diminishes and weakens proportionably, as our other with things sensible strengthens and increases; but 'tis impossible the former Union should be absolutely lost without the destruction of our Being: For however those who are immers'd in Vice, and drench'd in Pleasures, are insensible to Truth, they are notwithstanding united to it, Videtur quasi ipse a te occidere, cum tu ab ipso occidas. Aug. in Psal. 25. Nam etiam sol iste & videntis faciem illustrat & caeci; ambobus sol praesens est, sed praesente sole unus absens est. Sic & Sapientia Dei Dominus J. C. ubique praesens est, quia ubique est veritas, ubique sapientia. Aug. in Joan. Tract. 35. It never deserts them, 'tis they that desert it: Its Light shines in Darkness, but does not always dispell it; as the Light of the Sun surrounds the Blind, and those that wink, though it enlightens neither.

The case is the same with the Union of our Mind with the Body. That Union decreases as fast as the other we have with God increases; but it is never quite dissolv'd, but by our Death:What I here say of the Vnions of the Mind with GOD, and with the Body, ought to be understood according to our ordinary way of Conception: For indeed our Mind can be immediately united to GOD only; that is, can truly depend on none but GOD. And if it be united to, or depend on the Body, 'tis because the Will of GOD makes that Vnion or Dependence efficacious. Which will easily be conceiv'd in the Sequel of this Work. For though we were as enlightned, and as disingag'd from all things sensible, as the Apostles themselves, yet Adam's Fall would necessitate us to a Dependence on the Body; and we should feel a Law of our Flesh constantly opposing and warring against the Law of our Mind.

Proportionably as the Mind increases its Union with GOD, it grows purer, and more luminous, stronger, and more capacious; since 'tis from this Union it derives all its Perfection. On the other side, it becomes corrupt, blind, weak, and contracted, by the same degrees,Quis enim bene se inspiciens non expertus est, tanto se aliquid intellexisse sincerius, quanto removere atque subducere intentionem mentis a corporis sensibus potuit. Aug. de Immort. Anim. c. 10. as its Union with its Body corroborates and increases; because this is the Source of all its Imperfection. Thus a Man, who judges of all things by his Senses; who on all accounts pursues the Motions of his Passions; who has no other than Sensible Perceptions, and loves only Flattering Gratifications, is in the most wretched State of Mind imaginable; as being infinitely remote from Truth and from his Good. But when a Man judges of things but by the pure Ideas of the Mind, carefully avoids the confus'd Noise of the Creatures, and retiring into himself, hears his Sovereign Teacher in the calm Silence of the Senses and Passions, he cannot possibly fall into Errour.

GOD never deceives those who interrogate Him by a serious Application, and an entire Conversion of Mind towards Him; though He does not always make them hear His Answers. But when the Mind, by its Aversion from GOD, diffuses it self abroad; when it consults only its Body, to be instructed in the Truth, and only listens to its Senses, Imaginations, and Passions, which talk to it everlastingly, it must inevitably be engag'd in Errour. Wisdom, Truth, Perfection, and Happiness, are not Goods to be hop'd for from the Body. There is none, except ONE that is above us, and from whom we receive our Being, who can make it perfect.

This is what we are taught by these admirable Words of St. Austin: Eternal Wisdom, says he,Principium creaturae intellectualis est aeterna sapientia quod principium manens in se incommutabiliter, nullo modo cessat occulta inspiratione vocationis loqui ei creaturae, cui principium est, ut convertatur ad id ex quo est, quod aliter formata ac perfecta esse non possit. Lib. 1. de Gen. ad Litter. Ch. 50. is the Principle of all Intellectual Creatures, which persisting immutably the same, never ceases to speak to the most secret and inward Reason of his Creatures, to convert them towards their Principle: Because nothing but the Intuition of Eternal Wisdom, which gives Being to Spirits, can give them, as we may say, the Accomplishing Stroke, and the utmost Perfection they are capable of.

When we see GOD as He is, we shall be like Him, says the Apostle St. John. Scimus quoniam cum apparuerit, similes ei erimus, quoniam videbimus eum sicuti est. Joh. Ep. 1. ch. 3. v. 2. By that Intuition of Eternal Truth, we shall be rais'd to that degree of Grandeur to which all Spiritual Creatures tend by the Necessity of their Nature. But whilst we live on Earth, the Corpus quod corrumpitur, aggravat animam. Sap. 9.10. Terrena inhabitatio deprimit sensum multa cogitantem, & difficile aestimamus quae in terra sunt, & quae in prospectu sunt invenimus cum labore. Sap. 9.15. Weight of the Body drags down the Mind, withdraws it continually from the Presence of GOD, or that Internal Light which illuminates it, makes perpetual Essays to fortifie its Union with Sensible Objects; and compells it to represent things, not as they are in themselves, but according to the Relation they bear to the Preservation of Life.

The Body, according to the Wise Man, fills the Mind with such a multitude of Sensations, that it becomes unable to discover the most obvious things; the Sight of the Body dazles and dissipates that of the Mind; so that the Eye of the Soul has great Difficulty distinctly to perceive any Truth, whilst the Eye of the Body is imploy'd in the Discovery; which evidences, that all [Page] Truths are found out, and all Sciences learn'd merely by the Attention of the Mind. This being indeed its Return and Conversion unto GOD, who is our only Tutour, who only can instruct us with all Truth, by the Manifestation of His own Substance, as St. Austin Deus intelligibilis lux, in quo, & a quo, & per quem intelligibiliter lucent omnia. 1. Sol. Insinuavit nobis [Christus] animam humanam non vegetari, non illuminari, non beatificari, nisi ab ipsa substantia Dei. August. in Joh. speaks.

From all which it is manifest, that 'tis our Duty constantly to withstand the Opposition the Body makes against the Mind; and to accustom our selves by degrees to disbelieve the Reports our Senses make concerning all circumambient Bodies, which they always represent, as worthy of our Application and Esteem, because we must never make Sensible things the Object of our Thoughts, or the Subject of our Employment▪ 'Tis one of the Truths which the Eternal Wisdom seems willing to teach us by His Incarnation. Illa autoritas divina dicenda est, quae non solum in sensibilibus signis transcendit omnem humanam facultatem, sed & ipsum hominem agens ostendit ei quousque se propter ipsum depresserit, & non teneri sensibus, quibus videntur illa miranda; sed ad intellectum jubet evolare, simul demonstrans, & quanta hic possit, & cur haec faciat, & quam parvi pendat. Aug. 2. de Ord. 9. For, after having exalted a Sensible Body to the highest Dignity possible to be conceiv'd, He gave us to understand, by the Ignominy He reduc'd this same Body to, that is, by the Ignominy of the Noblest of all Sensible things, what Contempt we ought to have for all Sensible Objects. 'Tis possibly for the same Reason that St. Paul said He knew not JESUS CHRIST after the Flesh. For 'tis not the Flesh of CHRIST we must consider, but the Spirit vail'd under the Flesh. Caro vas fuit, quod habebat attende, non quod erat, says St. Austin Tract. in Joan. 27. Et si cognovimus secundum carnem Christum, jam non secundum carnem novimus. 2 ad Cor.. Whatever is a Visible and Sensible Nature in our LORD, merits not our Adoration; but because of the Union with the WORD, which can only be the Object of the Mind.

It is absolutely necessary for those who desire to become Wise and Happy, to be wholly convinc'd, and as it were pierc'd with what I have said. 'Tis not enough that they believe me on my Word, or that they be contented by the glimpse of a transitory Light; 'tis necessary they should know it by a thousand Experiences, and as many undeniable Demonstrations. These are Things to be engraven indelibly on their Mind, to be made present to their Thoughts in all their Studies, and in all the Business and Employs of Life.

Such as will take the Pains to read the Work I here offer to the Publick with any Application of Thought, will, if I mistake not, enter into such a Frame and Temper of Mind: For we have several ways demonstrated, that our Senses, Imagination, and Passions, are absolutely useless to the Discovery of Truth and Happiness; that on the contrary, they dazle and seduce us on all occasions; and in general, that all the Notices the Mind receives through the Body, or by Means of some Motions excited in the Body, are all false and confus'd, with reference to the Objects represented by them; though they are extremely useful to the Preservation of the Body, and the Goods that are related to it.

In this Work we encounter several Errours, especially such as have been of longest Growth, of universal Reception, and have caus'd the greatest Disorder in the Mind; and we shew that they almost all proceed from the Mind's Union with the Body. We offer in diverse places to make the Mind sensible of its Slavery and Dependence on all Sensible things, in order to awaken it from its Lethargy, and to put it upon attempting its Deliverance.

Nor do we rest satisfy'd with a bare Exposition of our Ramblings; but moreover explain the Nature of the Mind. We don't, for Instance, insist upon a long Enumeration of all the particular Errours of our Senses and Imagination; but chiefly dwell upon the Causes of these Errours. And in the Explication of these Faculties, and the General Errours we fall into, we expose all at one View an infinite Number of particular Errours whereunto we are obnoxious: So that the Subject of this Treatise is the Whole Mind of Man. We consider it in it self, with its Relation to the Body, and with its Relation to GOD. We examine the Nature of all its Faculties; we point out the Uses to be made of them for the avoiding Errour. In fine, we explain most of the things we thought necessary to our advancing in the Knowledge of MAN.

The finest, the most delightful, and most necessary Knowledge, is undoubtedly that of Our Selves. Of all Humane Sciences, that concerning Man is the most worthy of Man; and yet this is none of the most improv'd and most finish'd Science that we have. The Vulgar part of Men neglect it wholly: Among the Pretenders to Science there are very few which apply to it, and much fewer whose Application is successful. The generality even of those who go for Men of Parts, have but a confus'd Perception of the Essential Difference between the Soul and Body. St. Austin himself, who has so admirably distinguish'd these two Beings, confesses it was long before he could discover it. And though it must be acknowledg'd he has better explain'd the Properties of the Soul and Body, than all that went before him, or have come after him, to our present Age; yet it were to be wish'd he had not attributed to the Bodies that are about us, all the Sensible Qualities we perceive by means of them: For, in brief, they are not clearly contain'd in the Idea which he had of Matter. Insomuch that we may pretty confidently say, The Difference between the Mind and Body, till of late Years, was never sufficiently and clearly known.

Some there are who fancy to themselves they very well know the Nature of the Mind. Many others are persuaded, 'tis impossible to know any thing of it. Lastly, the greatest Number of all see not of what use that Knowledge could be, and therefore despise it. But all these so common Opinions are rather the Effects of the Imagination and Inclination of Men, than the Consequences [Page] of a Clear and Distinct View of their Mind; and proceed from their feeling an Uneasiness and Regret to retire into themselves, there to discover their Weaknesses and Infirmities; and their being pleas'd with Curious Enquiries and gayer sort of Sciences. Being always Abroad, they are insensible of the Disorders that happen at Home within themselves. They think all's right, because there's a Stupor on their Soul, and find fault with those who knowing their Distemper, betake to Remedies, saying, they make themselves sick, because they try for Cure.

But these Great Genius's, who pierce into the most Mysterious Secrets of Nature, who lift themselves in Opinion as high as Heaven, and descend to the bottom of the Abyss, ought to remember what they are. These great Objects, it may be, do but dazle them. The Mind must needs depart out of it self, to compass so many things; and this it can't do without scattering its Force.

Men came not into the World to be Astronomers, or Chymists, to spend their whole Life at the end of a Telescope; or labouring at a Furnace, to deduce trifling Consequences from their painful Observations. Grant that an Astronomer made the first Discoveries of Continent, and Sea, and Mountains in the Moon; that he first observ'd the Spots that circuit upon the Sun, and that he had exactly calculated their Motions: Suppose that a Chymist had found out, at length, the Secret of fixing Mercury, or of making the Alkaest, wherewith Van-helmont boasted to dissolve all Bodies: What are they the wiser or happier for all this? It, perhaps, has set them up in Reputation with the World; but if they would reflect upon it, they would find that Reputation did but increase their Bondage.

Astronomy, Chymistry, and most of the other Sciences, may be look'd on as proper Divertisements for a Gentleman. But Men should never be enamour'd with their Gayety, not prefer them before the Science of Humane Nature: For though the Imagination fixes a certain Idea of Greatness to Astronomy, by reason of its considering Great and Glorious Objects, and seated infinitely above all other things, the Mind is not blindly to prostrate it self to that Idea, but sit its Master, and its Judge, and strip it of that Sensible Pomp which amazes Reason. The Mind must pronounce of all things, according to its Internal Light, without hearkening to the false and confus'd Verdict of its Senses and Imagination; and whilst it examines all Humane Sciences by the Pure Light of Truth, which enlightens it, we doubt not to affirm it will disesteem most of them, and set a greater Price on that which teaches us to know our selves, than on all the other put together.

Therefore we choose rather to advise such as wish well to Truth, to judge of the Subject of this Treatise by the Responses they shall receive from the Sovereign Instructor of all Men, after having interrogated him by some Serious Reflexions, than to forestall them with a long anticipating Discourse, which perhaps they might look on as Common-place Matter, or the Vain Ornaments of a Preface. If they are persuaded this is a Subject worthy their Study and Application, we desire them once more not to judge of the Things contain'd in it, by the good or ill Manner they are express'd in, but still to retire into themselves, and there to hear the Decisions they are to follow, and to judge by.

Being thus fully persuaded, that Men cannot teach one another;Nolite putare quenquam hominem aliquid discere ab homine. Admonere possumus per strepitum vocis nostrae, si non sit intus qui doceat, inanis fit strepitus noster. Aug. in Joan. Auditus per me factus, intellectus per quem? Dixit aliquis & ad cor vestrum, sed non eum videtis. Si intellexistis, fratres, dictum est & cordi vestro. Munus Dei est intelligentia. August. Johan. Tract. 40. and that those who hear us learn not the Truths we speak to their Ears, unless at the same time, He who taught them us, manifest them likewise to their Mind: We think our selves farther oblig'd to advertise the Readers, that would profit by this, not to credit us on our Word, out of any Inclination, and Good-liking, nor withstand our Sentiments out of Prejudice or Aversion. For though we think nothing be therein advanc'd, but what we learn'd at the Expence of Meditation, we should however be very sorry that others should be contented with the Remembrance and Belief, without the Knowledge of our Notions; and fall into Errour, for want of Understanding us, or because we have Err'd before them.

That presumptuous Pride of some of the Learned, who demand our Belief upon their Word, seems intolerable: They are angry with us for Interrogating GOD, when once they have spoke to us, because they Interrogate Him not themselves. They grow warm upon every Opposition to their Opinions, requiring an absolute Preference should be given to the Mists and Darkness of their Imagination, before the Pure Light of Truth, which illuminates the Mind.

We are, Thanks to GOD, very remote from this way of proceeding, though it be often charg'd upon us. We demand indeed a Resignation to Matters of Fact, and the Experiments we produce, because there are things not learn'd by the Applying the Mind to Sovereign and Universal Reason. But as to Truths discoverable in the True Ideas of things, which the Eternal Wisdom suggests to us in our most inward and secret Reason;Noli putare te ipsam esse lucem. Aug. in Psal. herein we expresly caution against resting upon what we have thought of them, as judging it no small Crime thus to equalize our selves with GOD, by usurping a Power over the Minds of Men.

The chief Reason why we are so earnestly desirous, that those who read this Work bring all possible Application along with them, is, that we are willing to be reprehended for the Faults we have been guilty of: For we pretend not to be Infallible. We have so strict an Union with, and so strong a Dependence on our Body, that we are justly apprehensive, lest we have sometimes [Page] mistaken the confus'd Noise wherewith it fills the Imagination, for the Pure Voice of Truth, which speaks to the Understanding.

Were it GOD only who spoke, and did we judge only according to what we heard, we might perhaps say in the words of our LORD,Sicut audio sic judico, & judicium meum justum est: quia non quaero voluntatem meam. Johan. cap. 5.30. As I hear I judge, and my Judgment is just. But we have a Body that speaks lowder than GOD Himself, but never speaks the Truth. We have Self-love, which corrupts the Words of GOD, which are all Truth: and we have Pride, which emboldens us to judge without staying for the Words of Truth, which ought to be the Rule of all our Judgments. For the principal Cause of our Errours, is, that our Judgments reach farther than our Pure Intellectual Perceptions. Wherefore I intreat those to whom GOD shall discover my Wandrings, to put me in the Right Way; that so this Treatise, which I offer as an Essay, whose Subject is well worthy the Application of Men, may by degrees arrive to its Perfection.

This Undertaking was at first ettempted only with design of instructing my self: But some Persons being of Opinion it might be of use, if publish'd, I the willinger submitted to their Reasons; because one of the principal so well suited with the desire I had of advantaging my self. The best means, said they, of being inform'd in any Matter, is to communicate our Opinions about it to the Learned. This quickens our own Attention, as well as provokes theirs. Sometimes they have different Prospects, and make other Discoveries of Truths; sometimes they push on certain Enquiries, which we out of Laziness have neglected, or for want of Strength and Courage have deserted.

And upon this Prospect of Benefiting my self, and some others, I run the hazard of being an Author. But that my Hopes may not prove abortive, I throw in this Precaution, That a Man should not be presently discourag'd, though he meet with things that run counter to Common Opinions; which he has all his Life long believ'd, and found generally approved by all Men in all Ages of the World. For they are These Universal Errours I more especially strive to extirpate. Were Men throughly enlightned, Universal Approbation would be an Argument: but the case is quite contrary. Let him therefore be once for all re-minded, that nothing but Reason ought to preside over the Judgments we pass on all Humane Opinions; which have no relation to Faith: of which GOD alone informs us in a quite different way, from that of our discovering Natural things. Let him Retire into himself, and press near to that Light, which perpetually shines Within, to the end his Reason may be more and more enlightned. Let him industriously avoid all those too lively Sensations, and all the Commotions of the Soul, which fill the Capacity of the Mind. For the least Noise, or Glimmering of Light sometimes disturbs the View of the Mind: And therefore 'tis good to avoid all these things, though not absolutely necessary. And if after all the struggles he can make, he finds himself unable to withstand the continual Impressions that his Body, and the Prejudices of Childhood, make upon his Imagination: recourse to Prayer is needful, that GOD may afford those Supplies, wherewith his own Strength cannot furnish him; Never failing still to resist his Senses. For that ought to be the perpetual Employment of those, who in imitation of St. Austin, Qui hoc videre non potest, oret & agat ut posse mereatur, nec ad hominem disputatorem pulset, ut quod not legit legat, sed ad Deum Salvatorem, ut quod non valet valeat. Epist. 112. cap. 12. Supplex (que) illi qui lumen mentis accendit, attendat ut intelligat. Conf. Ep. Fund. cap. 33. Nullo modo resistitur Corporis sensibus; quae nobis sacratissima disciplina est; si per eos inflictis plagis vulneribusque blandimur. Ep. 72. have a great love for Truth,

§

The CONTENTS of the First Volume.

CHAP. I. 1. OF the Nature and Properties of the Understanding. 2. Of the Nature and Properties of the Will, and wherein its Liberty consists. Page 1

CHAP. II. 1. Of our Judgments and Reasonings. 2. That they depend upon the Will. 3. The Use which should be made of its Liberty on their account. 4. Two General Rules for the avoiding Error and Sin. 5. Some Necessary Reflexions on those Rules 4

CHAP. III. 1. The Answers to some Objections. 2. Observations vpon what has been said concerning the Necessity of Evidence 7

CHAP. IV. 1. Of the Occasional Causes of Error, whereof there are five Principal. 2. The General Design of the whole Work. 3. The Particular Design of the First Book 9

CHAP. V. Of the Senses. 1. Two ways of Explaining how they were corrupted by Sin. 2. That 'tis our Liberty, and not our Senses, which is the true Cause of our Errors. 3. A Rule for avoiding Error in the use of our Senses 10

CHAP. VI. 1. Of the Errors of Sight in respect of Extension absolutely consider'd. 2. A Continuation of these Errors about Invisible Objects. 3. Of the Errors of Sight touching Extension relatively considered 13

CHAP. VII. 1. Of the Errors of Sight about Figures. 2. We have no Knowledge of the least of them. 3. The Knowledge we have of the Greater is not exact. 4. An Explication of some Natural Judgments which prevent our Deception. 5. That these very Judgments deceive us in some particular Junctures 18

CHAP. VIII. 1. That our Eyes are incapable of informing us of the Quantity or Swiftness of Motion considered in it self. 2. That Duration which is necessary to our Knowledge of the Quantity of Motion is unknown to us. 3. An Instance of the Errors of Sight about Motion and Rest 19

CHAP. IX. A Continuation of the same Subject. 1. A General Demonstration of the Errors of our Sight concerning Motion. 2. That the Distance of Objects is necessary to be known, in order to judge of the Quantity of their Motion. 3. The Mediums whereby we know the Distances of Objects are examin'd 21

CHAP. X. Of our Errors about Sensible Qualities. 1. The Distinction of the Soul and Body. 2. An Explication of the Organs of the Senses. 3. To what part of the Body the Soul is immediately united. 4. An Instance to explain the Effect which Objects have upon our Bodies. 5. What it is they produce in the Soul, and the Reasons why the Soul perceives not the Motions of the Fibres of the Body. 6. Four things which are generally confounded in every Sensation 25

CHAP. XI. 1. The Error we fall into concerning the Action of Objects against the external Fibres of our Senses. 2. The Cause of this Error. 3. An Objection and Answer 28

CHAP. XII. 1. Of our Errors concerning the Motions of the Fibres of our Senses. 2. That we have no Perception of these Motions, or that we confound them with our Sensations. 3. An Experiment that proves it. 4. Three kinds of Sensations. 5. The Errors that accompany them Ibid.

CHAP. XIII. 1. Of the Nature of Sensations. 2. That a Man knows them better than he thinks he does. 3. An Objection and Answer. 4. Why a Man imagines he has no Knowledge of his own Sensations. 5. That it is an Error to think all Men have the same Sensations of the same Objects. 6. An Objection and Answer 31

CHAP. XIV. 1. Of the false Judgments that accompany our Sensations, and which we confound with them. 2. The Reasons of these false Judgments. 3. That Error is not in our Sensations, but only in these Judgments 35

CHAP. XV. An Explication of the particular Errors of the Sight, which may serve as an Exemplar of the general Errours of our Senses 37

CHAP. XVI. 1. That the Errors of our Senses serve us instead of General and very Fruitful Principles, from whence to draw false Conclusions; and these Conclusions again become other Principles in their turn. 2. The Origine of Essential Differences. 3. Concerning Substantial Forms. 4. Of some other Errors of the School-Philosophy 38

CHAP. XVII. 1. Another Instance taken from Morality, which shews that our Senses offer us nothing but false Goods▪ 2. That God alone is our true and proper Good. 3. The Origine of the Error of the Epicureans and Stoicks▪ 39

CHAP. XVIII. 1. That our Senses make us liable to Error, even in things which are not sensible. 2. An Example taken from the Conversation of Men. 3. That Sensible Manners are not to be regarded 41

CHAP. XIX. Two other Examples. 1. The first concerning our Errors about the Nature of Bodies. 2. The second concerning those which respect the Qualities of the same Bodies 42

CHAP. XX. The Conclusion of the First Book. 1. That our Senses are given us only for the Preservation of our Body. 2. That we ought to doubt of the Reports they make. 3. That 'tis no little thing to doubt as we ought to do. 44

Book the Second.

CHAP. I. 1. A General Idea of the Imagination. 2. That it includes two Faculties, an Active and a Passive. 3. A general Cause of the Changes which happen in the Imagination of Men; and the Foundation of the Second Book 45

CHAP. II. 1 Of the Animal Spirits, and the Changes they are s [...]ject to in general. 2. That the Chyle entring the Heart, occasions a Change in the Spirits. 3. That Wine does the same thing▪ 47

CHAP. III. That the Air imploy'd in Respiration causes some change in the Animal Spirits 48

CHAP. IV. 1. Of the Change of the Spirits caus'd by the Nerves, which go to the Heart and Lungs. 2. Of that which is caus'd by the Nerves, which go to the Liver, to the Spleen and Viscera. 3. That all that is perform'd without the Concurrence of our Will, but yet it cannot be done without a Providence 49

CHAP. V. 1. Of Memory. 2. Of Habits 51

CHAP. VI. 1. That the Fibres of the Brain are not subject to so sudden Changes as the Spirits. 2. Three different Changes incident to the three different Ages 53

CHAP. VII. 1. Of the Communication there is between the Brain of a Mother, and that of her Infant. 2. Of the Communication that is between our Brain and the other Parts of our Body, which inclines us to Imitation, and to Compassion. 3. An Explication of the Generation of Monstrous Children, and the Propagation of the Species. 4. An Explication of some Irregularities of the Understanding, and of some Inclinations of the Will. 5. Concerning Concupiscence and Original Sin. 6. Objections and Answers 54

CHAP. VIII. 1. The Changes which happen in the Imagination of an Infant, after his Birth, by his accompanying with his Mother, his Nurse, and other Persons. 2. Some Instructions for their good Education 61

The Second Part.

CHAP. I. 1. Of the Imagination of Women. 2. Of the Imagination of Men. 3. Of the Imagination of old Men 64

CHAP. II. That the Animal Spirits generally run in the Tracks of Ideas that are most familiar to us, which is the Reason of our preposterous Judgments 66

CHAP. III. Of the mutual Connexion between the Ideas, and the Traces of the Brain; and of the mutual Connexion there is between Traces and Traces, Ideas and Ideas 68

CHAP. IV. 1. That Men of Learning are the most subject to Error. 2. The Causes why Men had rather be guided by Authority, than make use of their own Reason 71

CHAP. V. Two pernicious Effects Reading has upon the Imagination 72

CHAP. VI. That Men of Learning generally are so opinionated with an Author, that their principal Drift is the knowing what he held, without caring to know what ought to be held 74

CHAP. VII. Of the Prepossession of Commentators 76

CHAP. VIII. 1. Of the Inventors of new Systems. 2. The last Error of Men of Learning 79

CHAP. IX. 1. Of Effeminate Minds. 2. Of Superficial Minds. 3. Of Men of Authority. 4. Of the Experimental Philosophers 81

The Third Part.

CHAP I. Of the Disposition we have to imitate others in all things, which is the Original of the Communication of those Errors that depend on the Power of Imagination. 2. Two things that more especially increase this Disposition. 3. What that strong Imagination is. 4. That there are several kinds of it. Of Fools, and of those that have a strong Imagination, in the Sense 'tis here taken. 5. Two considerable Imperfections of Men of a strong Imagination. 6. Of the Power they have to persuade and impose on others 84

CHAP. II. General Instances of the Strength of Imagination 87

CHAP. III. 1. Of the Force of some Authors Imagination. 2. Of Tertullian 90

CHAP. IV. Of the Imagination of Seneca 91

CHAP. V. Of Montagne's Book 95

CHAP. VI. 1. Of Witches in Imagination, and of Wolf-men. 2. The Conclusion of the two First Books 99

Book the Third.

CHAP. I. 1. Thought is only essential to the Mind. Sensation and Imagination are only the Modifications of it. 2. We know not all the Modifications our Soul is capable of. 3. They are different from our Knowledge and our Love, nor are they always Consequences of them 101

CHAP. II. 1. The Mind being limited, cannot comprehend any thing of an Infinite Nature. 2. Its Limitation is the Origine of a great many Errors. 3. And especially of Heresies. 4. The Mind must be submitted unto Faith 105

CHAP. III. 1. The Philosophers dissipate or dissolve the Force of the Mind, by applying it to the Subjects, including too many Relations, and depending on too many things; and by observing no Method in their Studies. 2. An Instance taken from Aristotle. 3. That Geometricians on the contrary take a good Method in the Search of Truth: Especially those who make use of Algebra and Analyticks. 4. That their Method increases the Strength of the Mind, and that Aristotle's Logick lessens it. 5. Another Fault of Learned Men 107

CHAP. IV. 1. The Mind cannot dwell long upon Objects that have no relation to it, or that include not something of Infinity in them. 2. The Inconstancy of the Will, is the Cause of that want of Application, and consequently of Error. 3. Our Sensations take us up more than the pure Ideas of the Mind. 4. Which is the Source of the Corruption of our Morals. 5. And of the Ignorance of the Vulgar sort of Men 109

Second Part concerning pure Understanding.

CHAP. I. 1. What is meant by Ideas. That they really exist, and are necessary to our perceiving all material Objects. 2. A Particularization of all the ways possible for us to perceive external Objects 112

CHAP. II. That material Objects emit not Species which resemble them 114

CHAP. III. That the Soul has no power to produce Ideas. The cause of the Error Men are guilty of upon this Subject 115

CHAP. IV. That we perceive not Objects by means of Ideas created with us. That God does not produce them in us every moment we have need of them 117

CHAP. V. That the Mind perceives neither the Essence nor the Existence of Objects, by considering its own Perfections. That none but God sees them in that manner 118

CHAP. VI. That we see all things in God 119

CHAP. VII. 1. Four different manners of Perception. 2. How it is that we know God. 3. How we know Bodies. 4. How we know our own Souls. 5. How we know the Souls of other Men, and pure Spirits 122

CHAP. VIII. 1. The intimate Presence of the indefinite Idea of Being in general, is the cause of all the disorderly abstractions of the Mind; and the most part of the Chimeras of the vulgar Philosophy, which hinder many Philosophers from acknowledging the solidity of true Principles of Physicks. 2. An Instance concerning the Essence of Matter. 124

CHAP. IX. 1. The last general Cause of our Errors. 2. That the Ideas of things are not always present to the Mind when we would have them. 3. That every finite Mind is subject to Error, and why. 4. That we ought not to judge that there is nothing but Body and Spirit: nor that God is a Spirit, according to our conception of Spirits. 128

CHAP. X. Some Instances of Errors in Physicks, wherein Men are engaged, by supposing that the things which differ in their Nature, their Qualities, Extension, Duration and Proportion, are alike in all these things 130

CHAP. XI. Instances of some Errors of Morality, which depend on the same Principle 133 The Conclusion of the Three first Books 134

Book the Fourth.

CHAP. I. 1. Inclinations are as necessary to Spirits, as Motions to Bodies. 2. God gives no Motion to Spirits, but what tends towards himself. 3. The tendency Spirits have to particular Goods, proceeds but from their Motion towards Good in general. 4. The Original of our chiefest natural Inclinations, which will make up the division of this Fourth Book 137

CHAP II. 1. The Inclination for Good in general, is the Principle of the Restlesness of the Will: 2. And consequently of our Inadvertency and Ignorance. 3. The First Instance (shewing that) Morals are but little known by the generality of Men. 4. The Second Instance (shewing that) the Immortality of the Soul is controverted by some People. 5. That we are in extreme Ignorance in point of abstract things; and which have but little reference to us. 139

CHAP. III. 1. Curiosity is natural, and necessary. 2. Three Rules to moderate it. 3. An Explication of the first of these Rules. 143

CHAP. IV. A Continuation of the same Subject. 1. An Explication of the second Rule concerning Curiosity. 2. An Explication of the Third 146

CHAP. V. 1. Of the second natural Inclination, or of Self-love. 2. The Division of it into love of Being, and of Well-being; or of Greatness, and Pleasure 147

CHAP. VI. 1. Of the Inclination we have for whatever elevates us above others. 2. Of the false Judgments of some Religious Persons. 3. Of the false Judgments of the Superstitious, and Hypocrites. 4. Of Voetius, Mr. Des Cartes's Enemy. 148

CHAP. VII. Of the Desire of Science, and of the Judgments of the falsly Learned. 151

CHAP. VIII. 1. Of the Desire of seeming Learned. 2. Of the conversation of the falsly Learn'd. 3. Of their Works 153

CHAP. IX. How the Inclination for Honours and Riches conduces to Error. 155

CHAP. X. Of the Love of Pleasure, with regard to Morality. 1. That Pleasure is to be shunn'd, though it make us happy. 2. It ought not to carry us to the loving sensible Goods 156

CHAP. XI. Of the love of Pleasure, with reference to Speculative Sciences. 1. How it disables us from discovering Truth. 2. Some Instances 159

CHAP. XII. Of the Effects which the Thoughts of Future Happiness and Misery are capable of producing in the Mind 163

CHAP. XIII. 1. Of the third Natural Inclination: viz. The Friendship we have for other Men. 2. It makes us approve the Thoughts of our Friends, and deceive them by undue Praises. 165

Tome II. Book V.

CHAP. I. OF the Nature and Original of Passions in general Page 1

CHAP II. Of the Union of the Mind with sensible Things; or of the Force and Extent of the Passions in general 3

CHAP. III. A particular Explanation of all the Changes, happening either to the Body or Soul in every Passion 6

CHAP. IV. That the Pleasure and Motion of the Passions engage us in Errors, and false Judgments about Good; that we ought continually to resist them. How to impugn Libertinism 10

CHAP. V. That the Perfection of the Mind consists in its Union with God, by the knowledge of Truth, and the love of Vertue; and contrariwise, That its Imperfection proceeds only from its dependency on the Body, caused by the Disorder of the Senses and Passions 13

CHAP. VI. Of the more general Errors of the Passions, with some particular Instances 16

CHAP. VII. Of Passions in particular, and first of Admiration and its ill Effects 18

CHAP. VIII. A Continuation of the same Subject: What good use can be made of Admiration and other Passions 24

CHAP. IX. Of Love and Aversion, and their principal Species 26

CHAP. X. Of Passions in particular, and in general of the way to explain them, and to know the Errors they cause 29

CHAP. XI. That all the Passions justifie themselves. What Judgments they cause us to make in their Vindication 31

CHAP. XII. That such Passions as have Evil for their Object, are the most dangerous and unjust; and that those that have the least mixture of Knowledge are the most lively and sensible 34

Book the Sixth.

CHAP. I. The Design of this Book: Two general ways to keep to Evidence in the Search of Truth, which shall be the Subject of this Tract 36

CHAP. II. That attention is necessary to preserve Evidence in our Knowledge; that the modifications of the Soul make her attentive, but share and take up too much her Capacity of perceiving 37

CHAP. III. Of the use that can be made of the Passions and Senses, to preserve the attention of the Mind 39

CHAP. IV. Of the use of Imagination to make the Mind attentive, and especially of the usefulness of Geometry 41

CHAP. V. Of the means to improve the extent and capacity of the Mind: That Arithmetick and Algebra are of absolute necessity to it 46

Book the Sixth. Part II.

CHAP. I. Of the Rules that are to be observed in the Search after Truth 50

CHAP. II. Of the general Rule that concerns the subject of our Studies: That School Philosophers observe it not, which is the cause of several Errors in their Physicks 51

CHAP. III. Of the most dangerous Error in the Philosophy of the Ancients 54

CHAP. IV. An Explication of the second part of the general Rule: That the Philosophers observe it not, but that Des Cartes has exactly followed it 57

CHAP. V. An Explication of the Principles of the Peripatetick Philosophy, in which is shewn, that Aristotle never observed the second part of the general Rule, and his four Elements, with the Elementary Qualities are examined 64

CHAP. VI. General and necessary Advices to proceed orderly in the Search after Truth, and in the choice of the Sciences 70

CHAP. VII. Of the use of the first Rule concerning particular Questions 74

CHAP. VIII. An Application of the other Rules to particular Questions 79

CHAP. IX. The last instance to shew the usefulness of this Treatise, wherein the cause of the Union of parts in Bodies, and withal the Rules of the Communication of Motion are examined 85 The Conclusion of the Three last Books 96

Illustrations upon the foregoing Books 98 F. Malbranche's Defence against the Accusation of Monsieur De la Ville 183

Of Light and Colours 193

The End of the Contents.

1

F. MALEBRANCHE'S TREATISE, CONCERNING The Search after Truth. BOOK the FIRST. Concerning The ERRORS of the SENSES.

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CHAP. I.

I. Of the Nature and Properties of the UNDERSTANDING. II. Of the Nature and Properties of the WILL, and wherein the Liberty of the SOUL consists.

ERROR is the Vniversal Cause of the Misery of Mankind; 'tis the corrupt Principle that has Produc'd Evil in the World: 'Tis this which breeds and cherishes in our Soul, all the Evils that afflict us; and we must never hope to establish a solid and real Happiness, but by seriously labouring to avoid it.

We are taught by the Holy Scriptures, that Men are only miserable, because they are Sinners, and Criminals; and they would neither be Sinners, nor Criminals, did they not make themselves Slaves to Sin, by taking part with Error.

If it be true then, That Error is the Source of all the Miseries of Men, 'tis very reasonable that Men should endeavour to free themselves from it; and certainly their Endeavour would not be altogether unprofitable, and unrewarded, though it met not with all the Success that they could wish. If Men should not hereby become Infallible, yet they would be much less subject to be Deceiv'd; and though they obtain'd not an absolute Deliverance from their Evils, they would however avoid a great part of them. An intire Felicity ought not to be expected in this Life, since in this Mortal State there can be no Pretensions to Infallibility; but the Endeavour against Error should be earnest and continual, because the Desire to being freed from Misery is incessant. In a word, as we fervently desire perfect Happiness, without the hopes of it; so we should ever industriously tend towards Infallibility, without pretending to it.

It should not be imagin'd there is much Difficulty to be undergone in the Search of Truth; 'Tis but opening the Eyes, becoming Attentive, and exactly observing some Rules we shall give in the See the 6th. Book. following Discourse. An exactness of Thought has scarce any thing painful in it; 'tis not a slavery, as the Imagination represents it, and though we meet with some Difficulty at first, yet we find Satisfaction enough to recompense our Pains; for at last, 'tis this only which enlightens us, and guides us into Truth.

But not to spend time in preparing the Mind of the Reader, whom 'tis much more just to believe, sufficiently, of himself, dispos'd to the Search of Truth; let us examine the Causes and Nature of our Errors; and since the Method of examining things by considering them in their Birth, and Origine, is the most regular and perspicuous, and serves better than others to give us a thorough Knowledge of them, let us try to put it here in Practice.

The Mind of Man, being neither Material nor Extended, is undoubtedly a simple Substance,Of the Nature & Properties of the Vnderstanding. indivisible, and without any Composition of Parts; Notwithstanding it has been the Custom to distinguish in it two Faculties, namely, the Vnderstanding and the Will, which it is necessary in the first place to explain. For it seems that the Notions or Idea's Men have of these two Faculties, are not so clear or distinct as they ought to be.

[Page]But because these Idea's are very Abstract, and fall not under the Imagination, it seems not amiss to express them by the Resemblance they bear to the Properties belonging to Matter, which being easie to be Imagin'd, will render the Notions which may conveniently be apply'd to these two Words Vnderstanding and Will, more distinct, and also more familiar to Vs; only this Caution must be observ'd, that these Resemblances betwixt the Mind and Matter, are not perfectly just; And that these two kinds of Beings are only compar'd in order to make the Mind more Attentive, and to make others, as it were, sensible of our meaning.

Matter, or Extension, contains in it two Properties or Faculties; the first Faculty is that of receiving different Figures, and the second is its capacity of being mov'd: In like manner the Mind of Man includes two Faculties; the first, which is the Vnderstanding, is that of receiving many Idea's, that is, of perceiving many things; the second, which is the Will, is the Faculty of receiving many Inclinations, or of Willing different things. We will begin with an explication of the Resemblances the first of the Faculties belonging to Matter, has to the first of the two Faculties appertaining to the Mind.

Extension is capable of admitting two kinds of Figures, The one is only External, as the Roundness of a piece of Wax, the other is Internal, and is peculiar to all the little parts the Wax is compos'd of; for it is most certain that all the little parts which go to the Composition of a piece of Wax, are of a Figure very different from those, which constitute a piece of Iron. Therefore I call that which is external, barely Figure, and I term the internal Figure, Configuration; which is peculiarly necessary to the Wax to make it what it is.

So likewise it may be said that the Idea's of the Soul are of two sorts, taking the name of Idea in general for whatever the Mind immediately perceives. The first give Us a Representation of something without Us, as of a Square, or an House, &c. The second represent to Us only what we find within Us, as our Sensations, Pain, Pleasure, or the the like. For we shall make it plain hereafter, that these last Idea's are only a manner of the Mind's existing; and for that reason I call them the Modifications of the Mind.

Thus also the Inclinations of the Soul might be call'd Modifications of the same Soul: For it being manifest that the Inclination of the Will is a manner of existing of the Soul, it might be term'd a Modification of the Soul; just as Motion in Bodies, being a manner of existing of those Bodies, might be said to be a Modification of Matter: Notwithstanding I do not term the Inclinations of the Will, or the Motions of Matter, Modifications, for as much as both those Inclinations, and those Motions have commonly a reference to something that's external; for the Inclinations stand related unto Good, and the Motions have a reference to some separate Body. But the Figures and Configurations of Bodies, and the Sensations of the Soul have no necessary relation to any thing without. For as a Figure is round when all the external parts of a Body are equally distant from one of its parts, which we call the Centre, without relation to any thing external; so all the Sensasations we are capable of, might have their subsistence, though there were no outward object in the World: Their being includes not any necessary relation to the Bodies which seem to cause them, as we shall elsewhere prove; and they are nothing but the very Soul, modify'd in such, or such a manner; so that they are properly Modifications of the Soul. Let me then take leave to name them so, in order to explain my self.

The first, and principal Agreement, or Resemblance, that is found betwixt the Faculty which Matter has of receiving different Figures, and different Configurations; and that which the Soul has of receiving different Idea's, and different Modifications is this, That as the Faculty of receiving different Figures, and different Configurations in Bodies, is intirely passive, and contains nothing at all of Action, so the Faculty of receiving different Idea's, and different Modifications in the Mind, is altogether passive and includes no Action at all. I call that Faculty or Capacity, the Soul has of receiving all these things, the UNDERSTANDING.

Whence we ought to conclude, That 'tis the Vnderstanding which perceives; since 'tis only its business to receive the Idea's of Objects: For, for the Soul to perceive an Object, and to receive the Idea which represents it, is one and the same thing: 'Tis also the Vnderstanding which perceives the Modifications of the Soul, since I mean by this word Vnderstanding, that passive Faculty of the Soul, by means of which it receives all the different Modifications it is capable of. For it is the same thing for the Soul to receive a mode of existence, which we call pain, as to perceive Pain, since it has no other way of receiving Pain, than by the Perception of it; whence it may be inferr'd, that 'tis the Vnderstanding that imagines the Objects that are absent, and is sensible of those that are present; and that the Senses and Imagination, are nothing but the Vnderstanding, perceiving Obj [...]cts by the Organs of the Body, as shall be explain'd hereafter.

But because in the Sensation of Pain, or any thing else, Men generally perceive it by the mediation of the Organs of Sense; they customarily say they are the Senses which perceive it, without knowing distinctly what it is they mean by the word Sense: They fancy there is some Faculty distinct from the Soul, which renders It, or the Body capable of Sensation, as believing the Organs of Sense do really participate of our Perceptions. They imagine the Body is so assistant to the Mind, in its Sensations, that if the Mind was separate from the Body, it could have no Sensation at all. But these thoughts are the effects of Prejudice; and because in the State we are in, we are sensible of nothing but through the use of the Instruments of Sense, as shall be shewn elsewhere more at large. 'Tis by way of accommodating my self to the ordinary way of Speaking that I say, in the Process of my Discourse, the Senses perceive; but by the word Sense I mean nothing but that passive Faculty of the Soul before-mention'd, that is, the Understanding perceiving any [Page] thing, on occasion of what happens in the Organs of her Body, according to the Institutions of Nature, as shall be explain'd in another place.

The other Resemblance between the passive Faculty of the Soul, and that of Matter, is this, That as Matter receives no real alteration by the change which happens in its Figure; I mean, for instance, that as Wax receives no considerable change by becoming Round or Square; so the Mind receives no change by the diversity of Idea's it contains; I would say, the Mind receives no considerable change though it receives the Idea of a Square, or a Circle, in perceiving a Square, or a Circle.

Again, As it may be said that Matter receives considerable Changes, when it loses the Configuration, peculiar to the parts of Wax, to take that which is proper to those of Fire and Smoak, when the Wax is chang'd into Fire and Smoak; so it may be said that the Soul undergoes very considerable Changes, when it alters its Modifications, and suffers Pain after it has felt Pleasure. Whence we ought to conclude, That Idea's are to the Soul, in a manner what Figures are to Matter, and that Configurations are to Matter, almost what Sensations are to the Soul.

There are still other Corrsepondencies betwixt the Figures and Configurations of Matter, and the Idea's and Modifications of the Mind; for Matter seems to be an Image, or Representative of the Mind, I mean only that there are Properties in Matter which have some mutual Respects between them, not unlike those which we find between the Properties belonging to the Mind; though the Nature of the Mind is very different from that of Matter, as we shall clearly see in that which follows.

From what I have said I would have it well remember'd, That by Vnderstanding I mean that passive Faculty the Soul has of Perceiving, that is of receiving not only different Idea's, bat also an abundance of different Sensations, as Matter has a capacity of receiving all sorts of external Figures, and internal Configurations.

The other Faculty of Matter is that of its being capable of receiving many Motions, and the other Faculty of the Soul is that Power it has of receiving many Inclinations. II. Of the Nature and Properties of the Will, and of its Liberty. Let us make the Comparison between them.

As the Author of Nature is the Universal Cause of all those Motions which we find in Matter, so also he is the general Cause of all those natural Inclinations which are found in the Mind: And as all Motions proceed in a right line, unless otherwise determin'd by the Rencounter, of some foreign and particular Causes, which by their Opposition, put them into a Circular course; so all the Inclinations we receive from God, have a direct tendency, and could only aim at the possession of Good and Truth, were there not some extraneous cause, which biass'd that natural Impression towards corrupt and mischievous Ends: Now 'tis that foreign Cause which is the cause of all our Evils, and depraves all our Inclinations.

To understand this rightly, we must know, there's a very considerable difference, between the Impression or Motion the Author of Nature produces in Matter, and the Impression or Motion towards Good in general, wherewith the same Author of Nature continually influences our Soul: For Matter is wholly inactive; it has no power of retarding, or stopping its Motion, or determining and turning it one way rather than another. Its Motion, as I have said, proceeds always in a right line, and if at any time it is hindred, from continuing it in that manner, it describes the greatest circular Line it can, and consequently that which comes nearest to a right, because 'tis God that impresses its Motion, and rules its Determination. But 'tis not so with the Will, which may in one sense be said See the Illustrations. to be Active, and to have a Power in it self of giving a different Determination to the Inclination, or Impression it receives from God; for though it cannot stop this Impression, it may in one sense cause a Deviation to what side it pleases, and thereby produce all those Disorders, which happen in its Inclinations, and all the Miseries which are the certain and necessary Consequents of Sin.

So that by the Word WILL, I would be conceiv'd to design, That natural Motion or Impression which carries us towards Good universal, and undetermin'd. And by that of LIBERTY, I mean nothing more than The Power the Mind has of turning that Impression towards agreeable Objects; and terminating our natural Inclinations upon some particular Object, which before were loose and undetermin'd, except towards general or universal Good; that is to say, towards God, who is alone universal Good, since 'tis he alone who comprehends in himself all Goods.

Whence it is easie to discover, That though our natural Inclinations are Voluntary, yet they are not Free with that Freedom of Indifference I am speaking [...]f; which contains a Power of willing or not willing, or rather of willing the contrary to what our natural Inclinations carry us. For though it is Voluntarily and Freely that a Man loves Good in general; since there is no Love but proceeds from the Will, and 'tis a contradiction, for the Will to suffer violence or constraint: However 'tis impossible to Love it with that Freedom I have just explain'd, since 'tis not in the Power of the Will not to wish to be Happy.

But it must be observ'd, that the Mind consider'd under so strong a bent towards Good in general, cannot determine its Motion towards a particular Good, unless the same Mind, consider'd as susceptible of Idea's, has knowledge of that particular Good; I would say, to make use of the ordinary terms, that the Will is a blind Power, that can make no advances to things but what are represented to it by the Vnderstanding; so that the Will can not diversly determine its Propensity to Good, or over-rule the direct Bent of his natural Inclinations, but by See the Illustrations. commanding the Vnderstanding to represent it to some particular Object. The power then that the Will has of determining its Inclinations, necessarily contains an ability of applying the Uderstanding to the Objects which it likes.

[Page]That what I have said concerning the Will, and Liberty may be better understood, I will make it familiar by an Instance: A Man represents to himself an Honour or Preferment under the Notion of a Good, which he may hope for, and immediately his Will wills this Good; that is, the Impression which is continually carrying the Soul towards Universal and undetermin'd Good, inclines it towards this Honour; But whereas this Honour is not the Universal Good, nor is consider'd by a clear and distinct view of the Mind, as Universal Good, (for the Mind can never see clearly That which is not) the Impression we have towards Universal Good is not stopt by this particular Good: The Mind has a tendency to go farther; it is not necessarily and invincibly in Love with this Honour, but is intirely at its Choice and Liberty in this respect. Now its Liberty consists in this, that being not fully convinc'd that this Honour comprehends all the Good it is capable of Loving, it may suspend both its Judgment and its Love; and thereupon, as shall be shewn in the Third Book, may, through the Union it has with the Universal Being, or that Being which contains all Good, think of other things, and consequently Love other Goods: Finally, it may compare all Goods together, and love them according to that order, in the Proportion they are lovely, and refer them all to that one which contains all, and which alone is fit to fix bounds to our Love, as being the only one, that is capable of filling all the Capacity we have of Loving.

Almost the same thing may be said of the Knowledge of Truth, as of the Love of Good. We Love the Knowledge of Truth, as the Injoyment of Good, through a natural Impression; and that Impression is no more invincible, than that which carries us towards Good; that which makes it so, is only Evidence, or a perfect and intire Knowledge of the Object. And we have equal Liberty in our false Judgments as in our inordinate Affections, as shall be made to appear in the next Chapter.

CHAP. II.

I. Of our Judgments, and Reasonings. II. That they depend upon the Will. III. The Vse which should be made of its Liberty on their account. IV. Two general Rules for the avoiding Error and Sin. V. Some general Reflections upon those Rules.

IT might be readily inferr'd from what has been said in the precedent Chapter, that the Understanding never judges, I. Of our Judgments and Reasonings. since it goes no farther than Perception; or that the Judgments and Reasonings which the Understanding makes, are nothing but pure Perceptions: That 'tis the Will alone which really judges, by acquiescing in, and voluntarily resting upon, what the Understanding represents: And thus it is the Will alone which leads us into Error: But this requires a larger Explication.

I say then, there is no other difference on the part of the Understanding, between a simple Perception, a Judgment, and a Reasoning, than that the Understanding perceives a simple thing, without relation to any thing whatsoever, by a simple Perception; that it perceives the Relations between two things or more, in its Judgments: And lastly, that it perceives the Relations, which are betwixt the Relations of things, in its Reasonings; wherefore all the Operations of the Understanding, are nothing but pure Perceptions.

In Perceiving, for Example, twice 2, or 4, there is only a simple Perception. In Judging that twice 2 are 4, or that twice 2 make not 5, the Understanding only perceives the Relation of Equality found between twice 2 and 4; or the Relation of Inequality between twice 2 and 5. Thus the Judgment, in point of the Understanding, is only the Preception of the Relation which is found between two things or more. But Reasoning is the Perception, not of the Relation which is found between two things or more, for that would be a Judgment; but, of the Relation which is found between two or more Relations of two or more Things. Thus when I infer that 4 being less than 6, twice 2 being equal to 4, are consequently less than 6, I not only Perceive the Relation of Inequality between 2 and 2, and 6, for that would be only a Judgment; but the Relation of Inequality which is between the Relation of twice 2 and 4, and that Relation between 4 and 6, which is a Reasoning: The Understanding then does only perceive, and 'tis the Will alone which judges and reasons by voluntary resting upon what the Understanding represents to it; as has been already said.

II. That Judgments and Reasonings depend upon the Will.Notwithstanding, when things which come under our Consideration, are palpably Evident, our Consent seems to be no longer Voluntary, whence we are ready to believe that 'tis not our Will but our Vnderstanding that judges thereof.

But that we may be sensible of our Error, we must know that the things we consider never appear with that Convincing Evidence, till the Understanding has throughly examin'd all their Parts and Relations necessary to form a Judgment of them; whereupon it happens that the Will, which can will nothing without knowledge, can act no longer on the Understanding; that is, cannot desire the Understanding to represent something new in its Object, since it has already consider'd all the parts of it any ways relating to the question to be decided, it is therefore oblig'd [Page] to rest upon what has been already represented, and cease from its Agitation and Casting about; 'tis this Acquiescence of the Will which is properly a Judgment or Reasoning. Thus because this Acquiescence or Judgment is not left Free, when things strike us with that Evident Conviction, we fansie likewise that it is not Voluntary.

But as long as there is any Obscurity in the Subject we consider, and we are not perfectly assur'd, we have discover'd all that's necessary to the Resolution of the Question, as it most commonly happens in those which are abstruse and difficult, and include many Relations; we are free to deny our Consent, and the Will may still command the Vnderstanding, to apply it self to something new: Which makes us not so averse to believe that the Judgments we form on such kind of Subjects are Voluntary.

Howbeit, the generality of Philosophers suppose that even the Judgments we form upon things obscure, are no ways Voluntary, and will have the Consent to Truth in general, to be an Action of the Vnderstanding, which they call Assensus, to distinguish it from the Consent to Good, which they attribute to the Will, and term Consensus; but see the cause of their Distinction and Mistake.

Which is, That in this state of Life, we often evidently perceive some Truths, without any reason to Doubt of them; and so the Will remains not indifferent in the Consent it gives to Truths so manifest, as has been just explain'd: But 'tis not so in point of Good, there being no Particular Good we know, but we have reason to doubt, whether we ought to Love it. Our Passions and Inclinations, which we naturally have for Sensible Pleasures, are, though confus'd, yet, through the Corruption of our Nature, very strong Reasons, which render us cold and indifferent even in the Love of God himself: And so we are manifestly sensible of our Indifference, and are inwardly convinc'd, we make use of our Liberty in our Loving GOD.

But we do not in like manner apprehend that we imploy our Liberty in Consenting to Truth, especially when accompanied with full Evidence and Conviction; which induces us to believe our Consent to Truth is not Voluntary: As if it was necessary our Actions should be indifferent to become Voluntary, and that the Blessed did not love God most Willingly, without being diverted from it by something or other; in like manner as we Consent to that evident Proposition that twice 2 are 4, without being diverted from the Belief of it by any shew of a contrary Reason.

But to the end we may distinctly discover, what the difference is between the Consent of the Will to Truth, and its Consent to Goodnes [...], it is requisite to know the difference which is found between Truth and Goodness, taken in the ordinary acceptation, and with reference to us. That difference consists in this, That we have an Interest and Concern in Goodness, but Truth does not at all affect us: For Truth consists only in the Relation which two things or more ha [...] between them, but Goodness consists in the Relation of agreement which things have with our selves;Geometricians love not Truth, but only the Knowledg of Truth, tho' it be otherwise said. which is the reason that the Will has but One Action in respect of Truth, which is its Acquiescence in, or Consent to, the Representation of the Relation which is betwixt things; and that it has two in respect of Goodness, namely, its Acquiescence in, or Consent to, the Relation of agreement the thing has with our selves, and its Love or Tendency towards that thing, which actions are extreamly different, though they are usually confounded: For there is a great deal of difference betwixt simply Acquiescing, and being carried to love the thing which the Mind represents, since we often Acquiesce in things we could gladly wish were not, and which we have an aversion to.

Now upon a due consideration of things, it will visibly appear; That 'tis ever the Will which Acquiesces, not only in things if they be agreeable to it, but the Representation of things; and that the reason of the Will's Acquiescing always in the Representation of things of the clearest Evidence, is, as we have already said, because there is no farther Relation in them necessary to be consider'd, which the Vnderstanding has not already throughly discuss'd: Insomuch that 'tis, as it were, necessary for the Will to leave off disquieting and tireing it self in vain, and to rest satisfy'd in a full assurance, that it is not deceived, since there is nothing left, to put the Vnderstanding upon a fresh Inquiry.

This is especially to be observ'd, that in the Circumstances we are under, we have but a very imperfect Knowledge of things, and consequently there is an absolute necessity we should have this Liberty of Indifference whereby we are impower'd to withold our selves from giving our Consent.

For the better discovering this Necessity, it must be consider'd, that we are carry'd by our Natural Inclinations to the imbracing Truth and Goodness; so that the Will, never reaching after things, but what the Mind has some notice and apprehension of, must needs pursue that which has the Face and Appearance of Truth and Goodness. But because all that has the look of Truth and Good, is not always what it appears to be; it is plain that if the Will had not this Liberty, but must infallibly and necessarily have embrac'd every thing that came cloath'd with an Appearance of Truth and Goodness, it would have almost ever been Deceived. Whence probably it might be concluded, That the Author of its Being, was the Author of its Errors and Seducements.III. What use should be made of our Liberty that we never may be deceiv'd▪

We have therefore a Liberty given us by God, that we might avoid falling into Error, and all the Evils consequent upon Errors, by not resting with a full Assurance upon Probabilities, but only upon Truth; that is, by commanding the Mind, with an indefatigable Application, to examine every thing till it has fully enlightned and unravell'd all that comes under its Examinations. For Truth generally comes attended with Evidence, and Evidence consists in a clear [Page] and distinct View of all the Parts and Relations of the Object which are necessary to give a certain and well-grounded Judgment.

The use then we should make of our Liberty is to IMPLOY IT AS FAR AS IT WILL GO. That is, never to consent to any thing whatever until we are, as it were, forc'd to't, by the secret Reproaches of our Reason.

To submit our selves to the false Appearance of Truth, is to inslave our selves contrary to the Will of God; but honestly to yield to the inward Reproaches of our Reason, which accompany the Denial of our Submission unto Evidence, is to obey the Voice of Eternal Truth, which speaks within us. Here then are Two Rules founded upon what I have been saying, which are the most necessary of all others, both for Speculative Sciences and Morality, and which may be look'd on as the Foundation of all Humane Sciences.

IV. General Rules for the avoiding Error and Sin.The First which respects the Sciences is this: A Man should never give an entire Consent, but only to Propositions which appear so evidently true, that he cannot deny it them without feeling an internal Pain, and the secret Vpbraidings of his Reason: that is, without being plainly convinc'd, he would make an ill use of his Liberty, in case he should refuse to give his Consent, or would extend its Power over things where it has no Right, or Jurisdiction.

The Second relating to Morality is this: A Man ought never to fix his Love absolutely on any Good, if he can without Remorse refuse to Love it. From whence it follows, That nothing but God ought to be Loved absolutely, and independently. For He alone it is, that we cannot forbear Loving in that Nature without an inward Remorse, that is, without evident Conviction of doing Ill, upon Supposition we have arriv'd to the Knowledge of Him, through the means of Reason or of Faith.

A necessary Reflexion on the two Rules.But it must here be observ'd, That when things which we perceive come recommended with strong Probability, we are extreamly ready to Believe them. We feel our selves in Pain, when we will not suffer Persuasion to Break in upon us; insomuch that were we not very cautious, we should be in danger of Consenting to them, consequently of being Deceiv'd; for 'tis a great Chance, whether Truth be found entirely to agree with the Probability. And for this Reason, I have expresly put in the two Rules; That nothing should be consented to, without palpable Conviction, that Evil use would be made of a Man's Liberty in not Consenting.

But though we find our selves most readily inclin'd to Consent to a Probability, or a likelihood, yet if we would be at the pains of making Reflexion, whether we perceive our selves evidently oblig'd to consent to it, we should doubtless find we were not. For if this likelihood be founded upon the Impressions of our Senses, (a likelihood by the way that very ill deserves the Name) a Man finds himself readily dispos'd to yield consent to it. But no other Cause can be assign'd for this, but some Passion or general Affection he has for that which affects or concerns the Senses, as shall be sufficiently shewn in the following Discourse.

But if the likelihood proceeds from some Conformity with Truth, as ordinarily Probable Notices are True, taken in a certain Sense; then if a Man examines his own Breast, he will find himself inclin'd to do two things; The one is to Believe, and the other to make farther Inquiry still: But he will never find himself so fully persuaded, as to think he does evidently ill, if he does not Consent at all.

Now these two Inclinations, a Man has in respect of Things Probable, are very Good. For He may and ought to give his Consent to Things Probable or Verisimilar taken in a Sense which denotes the Image of Truth; but he ought not however to yield an entire Consent, as we have precaution'd in the Rule; and he must examine all the latent sides, and faces yet undiscover'd; so as to enter fully into the Nature of the thing, and to distinguish what is True from what is False, and then to give an entire Consent if the Evidence oblige him to it.

He must then be well accustom'd to distinguish Truth from Probability, by examining himself inwardly, as I have been Explaining: For 'tis for want of this Care of Examining a Man's self in this Nature, that he perceives himself Touch'd and Affected almost in the same manner, by two different things; For, in fine, 'tis of the greatest Consequence to make a good use of this Liberty by perpetually bridling in our Consent, and Affection to things, till we find our selves, as it were, forc'd to let them go, by the Commanding Voice of the Author of Nature, which I call'd before the Reproaches of our Reason, and the Remorse of our Consciences.

All the Duties of Spiritual Beings, as well Angels as Men, consist principally in the good use of this Liberty; and we may say, without any scruple, That if they carefully Imploy their Liberty, and not preposterously render themselves slaves to Lyes and Vanity, they are in the ready way to the greatest Perfection they are naturally capable of; Provided, in the mean time, their Vnderstanding stands not idle, and that they are careful continually to excite it to new Discoveries, and that they render themselves dispos'd for the Reception of greater Truths, by perpetually Meditating on Subjects worthy of their Attention.

For that the Mind may advance to its Perfection, it will not suffice a Man constantly to make use of its Liberty, by Consenting to nothing at all; like those Men who take Pride in knowing nothing, in doubting and boggling at every thing in Nature: Nor on the other hand must he Consent to all things like many Others, who fear nothing so much as to be Ignorant of any thing, and pretend to Universal Knowledge. But he must make so good use of his Vnderstanding, by continual Meditations, as to find himself in a Capacity of being able to Consent to what it represents, without Fear or Danger of being Deceiv'd.

CHAP. III.

[Page]

I. The Answers to some Objections. II. Observations upon what has been said concerning the Necessity of Evidence.

'TIS no hard thing to foresee that the Practice of the First Rule, which I have been treating of in the foregoing Chapter, will not go very well down with a great part of Mankind; But especially with those Imaginary Philosophers, who pretend to the Knowledge of every thing, but really know nothing at all: Who please themselves in talking Positively upon the most difficult Subjects, and yet are certainly at the same time Ignorant of the more Ordinary and Easie.

I question not but they would be ready to say with Aristotle, That Absolute Certainty is no where to be sought for, but in the Mathematicks;I. The Answer to some Objections. That Physicks and Moral Philosophy are such Sciences as take up with meer Probability. That Des-Cartes was very much out in his Design of handling Physicks like Geometry; and that for that Reason he had no better Success. That 'tis not possible for Men to arrive to the Knowledge of Nature, that her Secret Springs and Movements lie too deep to be pierc'd by an Humane Mind; with a great deal more of such fine Things as these, which they put off with Pomp and Ostentation, and which they support with the Authority of a vast Flight of Authors, whose Names they can repeat, and out of which they can quote a Passage on Occasion; and this is sufficient for them to plume themselves and look big upon.

I would heartily beg of these Gentlemen, they would leave off talking of those things which they themselves acknowledge they do not Understand; and would put a stop to the ridiculous Motives of their Vanity, by ceasing to compose large Volumes on those Subjects which, by their own Confession, they Know nothing of

But I would have those Men seriously examine, whether one of these two Things is not absolutely Necessary, either to fall into Error, or never to give an entire Consent, except to things entirely Evident; Whether the Reason that Geometry is ever attended with Truth, may not be ascrib'd to the Geometricians Observation of that Rule: And whether the Errors some have fallen into touching the Quadrature of the Circle, the Duplication of the Cube, and some other very difficult Problems, have not proceeded from an heady and conceited rashness which has possess'd them with Likelihoods, and made them pass for Truths.

Let them consider likewise on another hand, whether the Cause of Error and Confusion's reigning so much in the Ordinary Philosophy, may not be imputed to the Philosophers contenting themselves with Probability, very easie and obvious to be met with, and highly advantagious to their Vain Humour and their Interests? Do not we almost every where find an infinite Diversity of Opinions upon the same Subjects, and consequently infinite Errors? Notwithstanding a prodigious number of Disciples give way to their own Seducements, and submit themselves blind-fold to the Authority of these Philosophers, without so much as Understanding what their Opinions are.

It is true there are some of them that after twenty or thirty Years time lost, confess they have learnt nothing by their Reading; but yet this their Confession is not so Ingenuous as it should be. They think it requisite first to prove after their fashion, that nothing can be known; and after that they will make Confession of their Ignorance, as Believing then they have the Privilege of doing it without being laught at for their Pains.

Yet were a Man dispos'd to entertain himself, he would not want a proper Subject for his Laughter and Diversion, should he handsomely Interrogate them, concerning the Progress of their Learned Acquisitions: and were they in Humour to declare in particular all the Fatigues they have undergone in the Study and Purchace of Nothing.

But though this their Learn'd and Profound Ignorance deserves to be well rally'd, yet it seems not amiss to spare them at present, and to commiserate those who have spent so many Years in Learning nothing but that false Proposition, the irreconcileable Enemy to all Science and to all Truth, That nothing can be known.

Since then the Rule I have establish'd is so necessary as has been seen, in the Search after Truth, let no Man Cavil at the proposing it. And let not those, who will not be at the pains of observing it themselves, be forward to condemn so celebrated an Author as Des-Cartes for following it, or according to their Notion, for indeavouring so zealously to follow it.

They would not be so peremptory to condemn him, did they know the Man on whom they pass so rash and unadvis'd a Sentence, and did they not read his Works as they do Fables and Romances, which they take up to entertain their idle Minutes, but never to Study or be Instructed in. Would they Meditate with that Author, they might probably still find in themselves some Notions and Scatter'd Seeds of Truth, which he teaches, that would grow up, and unfold themselves in spight of so disadvantagious a Load of mistaken Learning which oppresses them.

The Master that speaks and teaches us within, challenges our Submission to him rather than to the Authority of the greatest Philosophers: He takes pleasure in instructing us, provided we apply [Page] our Minds to what he says. 'Tis by Meditation and a very exact Attention we Inquire of him; and 'tis by a certain internal Conviction and the secret Lashes and Reproaches felt upon our Non-submission that he answers us.

We ought in such wise to read the Works of Men, as not to expect to receive Instruction from Men: We must consult Him who Enlightens the World, that with the Rest of the World he may Enlighten us. And if he fails to Enlighten us, after we have consulted him, 'tis doubtless, because we have ill consulted him.

Whether then we read Aristotle or whether we read Des-Cartes, we must not instantly believe either Aristotle or Des-Cartes: But we should only Meditate as they have done, or as they ought to have done, with all the Earnestness and Attention we are capable of, and thereupon Obey the Voice of our common Master, and honestly yield up our Consent to that Internal Conviction, and those Motions we find in us upon our Meditation.

This being done, it may be allow'd a Man to pass a Judgment for or against an Author. But he must first have digested the Principles of Des-Cartes and Aristotle's Philosophy before he can reject the one, and approve the other; before he can maintain concerning the Latter, that no one Phaenomenon of Nature can ever be explain'd by the Principles peculiar to him, as they have been of no use for this two thousand Years, though his Philosophy hath been the Study of the most Ingenious Men in most parts of the World: And on the contrary, before he can boldly pronounce of the Other, that he hath penetrated those recesses of Nature that lay deepest conceal'd from the Eyes of Men, and hath open'd to them a most certain and infall [...]ble way of Discovering all the Truths 'tis possible for a limited understanding to Comprehend.

But not to dwell upon the Notion we may conceive of these two Philosophers, and of all others; let us ever look upon them as Men: And let not those of Aristotle's Party take it ill, if after they have travell'd so many Ages in the Dark without finding themselves one step farther advanc'd than at their setting out; there are some at last that have a Mind to see clearly what they do: And if after the former have suffer'd themselves to be led like the blind, there are those who remember they have Eyes with which they will attempt to conduct themselves.

Let us then be fully persuaded that this Rule, viz. That an entire Consent should never be given, but to things evidently perceiv'd, is the most necessary of all others in the Search after Truth; and let not our Mind embrace any thing as True, which is not accompany'd with all the Evidence it demands. 'Tis requisite we should be persuaded of this to disburthen us of our Prejudices: And 'tis absolutely necessary we should entirely quit our Prejudices, to enter into the Knowledge of Truth, for as much as there is an absolute Necessity that our Mind be purify'd before it be inlightned. Sapientia prima Stultitiâ caruisse.

II. Observations on what has been said concerning the necessity of Evidence.But Before I conclude this Chapter, 'tis necessary to observe three Things. The First is, That I speak not here of things of Faith, which have no Evidence attending them, as have Natural Sciences: The Reason of which seems to be this, That we can have no Perception of Things but from the Idea's we have of them. Now the Idea's we have, are only given us by God, according to our Exigencies and the need we have of them to conduct us in the Natural Order of Things, according to which he has Created us. So that the Mysteries of Faith being of a Supernatural Order, we need not wonder if we want that Evidence, since we want the Idea's of them; because our Souls were Created by vertue of a General Decree, through which we have all the Notions that are necessary for us,See the Illustrations. but the Mysteries of Faith have receiv'd their Establishment only from an Order of Grace; which, in our ordinary way of Conception, is a Decree posteriour to this Order of Nature.

Mysteries then of Faith must be distinguish'd from things of Nature: We ought equally to submit to Faith and to Evidence; but in the concernments of Faith, we must not look for Evidence; as in those of Nature, we ought not to take up with Faith: That is, with the Authority of Philosophers. In a word, to be a Believer, 'tis requir'd to Assent blindly, but to be a Philosopher, it is necessary to See plainly.

'Tis not however to be deny'd but there are some Truths besides those of Faith, for which it would be unreasonable to demand indisputable Demonstrations, as are those which relate to Matter of Fact in History, and other things which have their dependence on the Will of Men. For there are two kinds of Truth; the one Necessary, the other Contingent. I call Necessary Truths those which are immutable by their Nature, and those which have been fix'd and determin'd by the Will of God, which is not subject to Change. All other sorts of Truth are Contingent▪ Mathematicks, Physicks, Metaphysicks, as also a great part of Morality contain Necessary Truths: History, Grammar, Private Right, or Customs, and such other things as depend on the changeable Will of Man, contain only Contingent Truths.

We demand therefore an exact Observation of the Rule we have been establishing, in the Search of Necessary Truths, the Knowledge of which may be call'd Science; and we must be content with the greatest Probability in History, which includes the Knowledge of things Contingent. For under the general Name of History may be concluded the Knowledge of Languages, Customs, as also of the different Opinions of Philosophers; when Men have only learnt them by Memory, without having either Evidence or Certainty concerning them.

The Second thing to be Observ'd, is that in Morality, Politicks and Medicine, and in all Practical Sciences, we are obliged to be content with Probability; Not Universally, but upon occasion; not because it satisfies the Mind, but because the Instance is pressing: And if a Man should always delay Acting, till he had perfect Assurance of Success, the Opportunity would be often [Page] lost. But though it falls out that a Man must inevitably act, yet he should in acting doubt of the Success of what he does: And he should indeavour to make such Advances in Sciences, as to be able on Emergencies to act with greater Certainty; For this should be the constant end of all Mens Study and Employment, who make any use of Thought.

The Third and last thing is this, That we should not absolutely despise Probabilities, since it often happens that many of them in Conjunction, have as convincing a force, as most evident Demonstrations. Of which Nature there are infinite Examples to be found in Physicks and Morality: So that 'tis often expedient to amass together a sufficient number of them in subjects not otherwise Demonstrable, in order to come to the Knowledge of Truth, impossible to be found out any other way.

And now I must needs confess that the Law I impose is very Rigorous and Severe; That there are abundance of Those who had rather renounce Reasoning at all, than Reason on such Conditions; That 'tis impossible to run so fast, with such retarding Circumspections. However, it must be granted me, that a Man shall walk with greater Security in observing it, and that hitherto those who have march'd so hastily, have been oblig'd to return upon the same Ground: Besides, there are a great number of Men who will agree with me in this, That since Monsieur Des-Cartes has discover'd more Truths in Thirty Years, than all the Philosophers that preceded him, meerly for his Submission to that Law; if many others would study Philosophy as he has done, we should in time be acquainted with the greatest part of those things which are necessary to make Life as happy as is possible, upon an Earth which God has Curs'd.

CHAP. IV.

I. Of the Occasional Causes of Error, whereof there are Five Principal. II. The general Design of the whole Work. III. The particular Design of the First Book.

WE have seen from what has been said, that a Man falls not into Error, but for want of making a due use of his Liberty; that 'tis for want of curbing that eagerness of the Will, and moderating its Passion for the bare appearances of Truth, that he is deceiv'd: And that Error consists only in the Consent of the Will, which has a greater Latitude than the Perception of the Understanding, since we should never err if we only simply judg'd according as we perceiv'd.

But though, to speak properly, there is no other cause of Error, I. Of the Occasional Causes of our Errors, and that there are five principal. than the ill use of our Liberty, it may notwithstanding be said, we have several Faculties that are the Causes of our Errors; not Real Causes, but such as may be term'd Occasional: All the ways of our Perceiving are so many occasions of Deceiving us. For since our false Judgments include two things, namely the Consent of the Will, and the Perception of the Vnderstanding, it is manifest that all the ways of our Perception, may afford us some occasion or other of falling into Error, forasmuch as they may incline us to rash and precipitate Consents.

But because it is necessary first to make the Soul sensible of her Weaknesses and Wandrings, in order to possess Her with just Desires of a Deliverance from them, and that she may with greater ease shake off her Prejudices; We will endeavour to make an exact Division of her Manners of Perception; which may serve as so many Heads, to one or other of which, may be referr'd as we proceed, the different Errors whereunto we are obnoxious.

The Soul has three several ways of Perception: By Pure Intellect, by Imagination, and by the Senses.

By Pure Intellect, she perceives things Spiritual, Universals, Common Notions, The Idea of Perfection, that of a Being infinitely perfect, and in general all her own thoughts, when she knows them by a Reflexion made upon her self: 'Tis likewise by Pure Intellect she perceives Material things, Extension with its Properties. For 'tis the pure Understanding only which is capable of Perceiving a Circle, and a perfect Square, a Figure of a thousand sides, and such like things. Such sort of Perceptions bear the name of Pure Intellections or Pure Perceptions, since there is no necessity of the Mind's forming Corporeal Images in the Brain to represent them by.

By Imagination, the Soul only perceives things Material, when being Absent she makes them present to her, by forming the Images of them in the Brain. This is the way whereby a Man Imagines all sorts of Figures, a Circle, a Triangle, a Face, an Horse, Towns and Fields, whether he has already seen them or not. This sort of Perceptions, we may call Imaginations, because the Soul represents to her self these things, by framing Images of them in the Brain. And for as much as Spiritual things cannot be represented by any Image, it follows, the Soul cannot imagine them; which is a thing worthy to be remember'd.

Lastly, By Sense, the Soul perceives only Sensible, gross, and ruder Objects, when being present they cause an Impression on the external Organs of her Body. Thus it is the Soul sees things [Page] plain and rugged present to her Eyes; thus she knows the Hardness of the Iron, the point of a Sword, and the like; and this kind of Perceptions one may call Sentiments or Sensations.

The Soul then has no more than these three ways of Perceiving; which will easily be granted, if we consider that the things we perceive are either Spiritual or Material. If they be Spiritual, they are perceptable only by the Pure Vnderstanding: If they be Material, they are either Present or Absent. If they be Absent, the ordinary way of the Soul's representing them is by the Imagination: But if they be Present, the Soul can perceive them by the Impressions they make upon her Senses. And thus Our Souls are not capable of more than a three-fold Perception, by Pure Intellect, by Imagination, and by Sense.

These three Faculties therefore may be lookt upon as so many certain Heads, to which we may reduce the Errors of Men, and the Causes of their Errors, and so avoid the confusion into which the multitude of them would infallibly cast us, should we talk of them without Order or Method.

But moreover, our Inclinations and our Passions act very strongly upon us: They dazzle our Mind with their false Lights, and overcast and fill it with Clouds and Darkness. Thus Our Inclinations and our Passions engage us in an infinite number of Errors, when we suffer our selves to be guided by that false Light, and abusive Glare which they produce within us. We must then, together with the three Faculties of the Mind, consider them as the Sources of our Deviations and Delinquencies, and add to the Errors of Sense, Imagination, and Pure Intellect, those which may be charg'd upon the Passions and Natural Inclinations. And so all the Errors of Men and the Causes of them, may be reduc'd to five Heads, and we shall treat of them according to that Order.

II. The General Design of the whole Work.First, We shall speak of the Errors of the Senses; Secondly, Of the Errors of Imagination; Thirdly, Of the Errors of the Pure Intellect; Fourthly, Of the Errors of our Inclinations; and Fifthly, Of the Errors of the Passions. And thus, having made an Essay to rid the Soul of the Errors which she's subject to, we shall, Lastly, lay down a General Method to Conduct her in the Search of Truth.

III. The particular Design of the first Book.We will begin with an Explication of the Errors of our Senses, or rather, of the Errors into which we fall for want of making the due use, we should do of our Senses: And here we shall not so much descend to our Particular Errors, which are almost infinite, as fix upon the general Causes of these Errors, and such things as seem most necessary to inform us of the Nature of the Humane Mind.

CHAP. V.

Of the SENSES. I. Two ways of explaining how they were corrupted by Sin. II. That 'tis our Liberty, and not our Senses, which is the true Cause of our Errors. III. A Rule for avoiding Error in the use of our Senses.

UPON an attentive Consideration of the Senses and Passions of Man, we find them so well proportion'd to the End for which they were given us, that we can by no means agree with those who say, they are to all intents and purposes debauch'd and spoil'd by Original Sin. But that it may appear it is not without Reason we are of a different Opinion, it is necessary to Explain, in what manner we may conceive the Order and Regularity which was to be seen in the Faculties and Passions of our First Parent in his State of Righteousness, and the Changes, and Disorders that were consequent to his Fall. Now there are Two ways of Conceiving these things; of which this is the First.

I. Two ways of explaining how our Senses were corrupted by Sin.That it seems to be a common Notion, That it is necessary to the right ordering of Affairs, that the Soul should perceive lesser or greater Pleasures, according to the proportion of the Littleness or Greatness of the Goods which she enjoys. Pleasure is an Instinct of Nature, or to speak clearer, 'tis an Impression of God himself, who inclines us towards some Good; which Impression should be so much stronger, by how much that Good is greater. According to which Principle, it seems not to be contested that our first Parent before his Sin, coming fresh out of the Hands of his Maker, found greater Pleasures in the most solid Goods, than in those that were not so. Wherefore since he was created in order to Love God who created him, and that God was his true Good; it may be said, God gave him a Taste and Relish of himself; That he inclin'd him to the Love of the Divine Perfection, by a Sense of Pleasure, and that he possess'd him with those Internal Satisfactions in his Duty that counter-balanc'd the greatest Pleasures of the Senses, [Page] whereof since the State of Sin, Man is altogether insensible, without a Supernatural Assistance and particular gift of Grace.

Notwithstanding, since he had a Body which God design'd he should take care of, and look upon as a Part of himself, he gave him to Perceive by the Mediation of his Senses, Pleasures like those we our selves are sensible of, in the use of things which are proper for, and adapted to the Preservation of our Life and Being.

We presume not here to determine whether the First Man before his Fall, had a Power to hinder agreeable or disagreeable Sensations, in the instant that the principal part of his Brain was agitated by the Actual Impression of Sensible Objects: Possibly he had that Soveraignty over himself, because of his Subjection to the Will of God, though the contrary Opinion seems more probable. For though Adam might stop the Commotions of the Blood and Spirits, and the Vibrations of the Fibres of his Brain, which Objects excited in it, because being in a Regular State, his Body must needs submit to his Mind; yet it is not probable, he was able to prevent the Sensations of Objects at the time he had not stopt the Motions they produc'd in that part of his Body, to which his Soul was immediately united. For the Union of the Soul and Body consisting principally in the mutual Relation there is betwixt Sensations, and the Motions of the Organs, this Union would rather seem Arbitrary than Natural, if Adam had been capable of hindring Sensation, when the Principal Part of his Body receiv'd an Impression from those round about it. However I declare for neither of the two Opinions.

The First Man therefore felt Pleasure in that which was Perfective of his Body, as he felt it in that which was Perfective of his Soul; And because he was constituted in a Perfect State, he found that of the Soul far greater than that of the Body. Thus it was infinitely easier for him to preserve his Righteousness, than for Us without the Grace of JESVS CHRIST; since without this we have no Delight or Satisfaction in our Duty. Albeit, he misfortunately suffer'd himself to be seduc'd: He lost that Uprightness by his Disobedience; and the Principal Change he underwent, and which was the cause of all the Confusion of his Senses and his Passions was, that GOD, S. Gregor. Homil. 39. upon the Gospels. by way of punitive Justice, withdrew himself from him, and would no longer be his Good; or rather Ceas'd to make him sensible of that Pleasure, which pointed out GOD, as his Sovereign Good. So that Sensible Pleasures, which only carry'd him to the Injoyment of the Goods of the Body, being left alone and no longer counterpois'd by those, which drew him before to his True and Proper Good; the close Union that he had with GOD was wonderfully loosen'd, and that which he had with his Body, as much strengthned or increas'd. Sensible Pleasure, having got the Dominion, debauch'd his Fr. Son [...]ur. Moral Powers, by fastening them upon all Sensible Objects; and this Corruption of his Morals darkned his Fr. Son Esprit. Intellectual Parts,- by turning him from that Light which Enlightned him, and inducing him to form his Judgments on things, only from the Relation or Analogy they could have to his Body.

But as to the Nature of the thing it self, it cannot be said, That the Change which happen'd on Part of the Senses was very considerable. For as when two Weights are plac'd in Equilibrium in a Balance, if you take away one of them, the opposite Scale will be weigh'd down by the other, without any alteration on part of the former weight, since that still remains the same: So after Sin, the Pleasures of Sense bow'd and weigh'd down the Soul towards Sensible Objects, for want of those Internal Delectations which, before Sin, counterpois'd that Inclination unto Sensible Good; but without any so Substantial a Change in point of the Senses, as is generally Imagin'd.

I come now to the Second Way of accounting for the Disorders introduc'd by Sin, which is certainly more Reasonable than that we have been explaining. It is very different from it, because it is founded on a different Principle; yet both these ways are very consistent and agreeable, as to what respects the Senses.

Being we are made up of a Body and a Mind, there are two sorts of Goods to imploy our Researches about; the Goods of the Body, and the Goods of the Mind. We have likewise two means of Discovering whether a thing be good or ill for us, either by using the Mind alone, or by the use of the Mind in Conjunction with the Body. We can discover our Good by a clear and evident Knowledge; we can discover it likewise by a dark and confus'd Sensation. Reason teaches me that Righteousness is Amiable; My Taste informs me that such a Fruit is Good. The Beauty of Righteousness is not Sensible, nor the Goodness of a Fruit Intelligible. The Goods of the Body deserve not the application of the Mind, which GOD has created only for himself: It must needs be then, That the Mind discovers such kind of Goods without Examination, and by the short and incontroverted Proof of Sensation. Stones are not fit for Nourishment, the Tryal is a convincing Argument, and the Taste alone has made all Mankind agree to it.

Pleasure then and Pain are the Natural and undoubted Characters of Good and Evil; I confess it: But 'tis only so in respect of those things, which, having no Power of being Good and Evil in themselves, cannot be known for such by a Knowledge clear and evident; 'tis so in regard of those things only, which, being inferiour to the Mind, can neither Punish nor Reward it. In fine, 'tis only so in point of such things and Objects as are undeserving of the Soul's Applicacation, and concern about them; such things as GOD, not willing we should be taken up with, inclines us to only by Instinct, that is, by Agreeable or Disagreeable Sensations.

But as for GOD, who is the True and only Good of the Mind, who is alone above it, who alone can Reward it in a thousand different ways; who is only worthy of its Application, and who is under no Fear of not being found Amiable by those that know him; he is not content [Page] to be belov'd by a blind and Instinctive Love, he will be lov'd by a Rational Love, and a Love of Choice.

If the Mind saw only in Bodies what was really in them, without being sensible of what was not therein, it could not possibly Love them, nor make use of them without great Pain and Reluctancy; so that it is as it were necessary they should appear Agreeable, by producing Sensations, of which themselves are Destitute. But 'tis far from being so with GOD. 'Tis sufficient to see him such as he is, to be inclin'd to love him as we ought: Nor is there any Necessity he should imploy that Instinct of Pleasure as a kind of Bait and Artifice to allure our Love, without deserving it. The Pleasure which the Blessed enjoy in the Possession of GOD, is not so much an Instinct which inclines them to the Love of Him, as the Recompence of their Love. For it is not for the sake of that Pleasure that they Love GOD, but because they manifestly know Him to be their True, their Only Good.

See the Illustrations.This being the Case, it ought to be concluded, That Adam was not invited to the Love of GOD and the rest of his Duty by a Preventing Pleasure; forasmuch as the Knowledge which he had of GOD, as of his Good, and the Joy he was continually possess'd with, necessarily consequent to the View of his Felicity, in his Uniting himself with GOD, were sufficient Motives to recommend his Duty to him, and to make his Actions more Meritorious, than if he had been, as it were, determin'd by a Preventing Pleasure: In this manner he was in perfect Liberty. And 'tis possibly in this Capacity the Scripture means to represent Him to us in these words, — He himself made Man from the beginning, and left him in the hand of his Counsel, to keep the Commandments, Deus ab initio constituit hominem, & reliquit illum in manu Consilii sui, adjecit mandata & praecepta sua, &c. Ec. 15.14. &c. Eccles. 15.14. That is, kept him closely united to Himself, only through the clear View he gave him of his Happiness and his Duty, without alluring him to it by any Taste of a Preventing Pleasure. But Experience has convinc'd us, to the Eternal Reproach of Free Will, and the Glory of GOD alone, of the Frailty Adam was obnoxious to, even in a State of such Perfect Order and Sublime Happiness, as was that, he was possess'd of, before his Disobedience.

But it cannot be said Adam was inclin'd to the Searching out, and Using of Sensible things, through a nice and exact Knowledge of the Relation and Correspondence they might bear to his Body. For, indeed, if it had been necessary for him to have examin'd the Configurations of the parts of any Fruit, those likewise of all the parts of his Body, and the Agreement and Disagreement resulting to each other from their respective Constitution, before he could judge whether as to the present Temperature of his Blood, and a thousand other Dispositions of his Body, that Fruit was good for his Nourishment; it is plain that the whole Capacity of his Mind had been entirely fill'd up, with things altogether unworthy of its Application; and that too to very little Purpose, since we see he was not able to preserve himself long, though we suppose him so accomplish'd.

Upon Consideration then that the Mind of Adam was not Infinite, it should not be taken ill, that we say he was not acquainted with all the Properties of Bodies that encompass'd him; since it is certain those Properties are Infinite. And if it be granted, which no Man of any Attention can deny, that his Mind was not made to examine the Motions and Configurations of Matter, but to be continually Intent on GOD; we need incur no Blame, in Maintaining, it had been a Disorder and Irregularity, at a time when all things should have been perfectly adjusted, if he had been oblig'd to call off his Mind from the View of the Perfections of his Sovereign Good, to contemplate the Nature of a Fruit, and Examine whether it was fit to Nourish him.

Adam then was furnisht with Senses like to ours, by which he was admonish'd, without being taken off from the Contemplation of GOD, of what was necessary for him to do for the Preservation of his Body: He was sensible of Pleasures as we are, and also of preventing and indeliberate Pains and Dislikes. But those Pleasures, and those Pains were incapable of inslaving him, and rendring him Unhappy as they do us; forasmuch as being absolute Master of all the Motions excited in his Body, he could quiet them in the same instant (if he desir'd it) that he was aware of them: And doubtless he always desir'd it in respect of Pain. Happy had we been, if he had done the same thing in respect of Pleasure too, and had he not Voluntarily divorc'd himself from the Union and Presence of his GOD, by suffering the Capacity of his Mind to be fill'd with the Beauty, and the expected Sweets of a forbidden Fruit, or possibly with a presumptuous Joy kindled in his Soul, upon Reflexion on his own Natural Perfections.

But after he had Sinn'd, those Pleasures which before only respectfully caution'd him; and those Pains, which, not disturbing his Felicity, only gave him to understand he was capable of losing it, and becoming Miserable, preserv'd no longer that Deference and Submission. His Senses and his Passions obey'd not his Orders, rebell'd against him, and enslav'd him as they do us to all kinds of Sensible Objects.

Thus the Senses and the Passions in no wise ow'd their Birth to Sin, but only their Power of Tyrannizing over Sinners: And that Power was not so much a Disorder on part of the Senses, as it was of the Mind or the Will of Man, which having loosen'd the strict Union which they had with GOD, receiv'd no longer that Light and that Strength, by means whereof they preserv'd their Liberty and their Happiness.

Upon concluding these two Ways of Explaining the Disorders Sin has been the Cause of, we ought to infer that there are two things necessary to Re-instate us in the Order of Nature.

A Remedy for the Disorder which Original Sin has caus'd in the World, and the Foundation of Christian Morality.The first is this, That we should take off, from that weight which sinks us down, and bends us towards sensible Goods, by a continual defalcation of our Pleasures, and by mortifying the sensibility of our Senses by Repentance and Circumcision of heart.

[Page]The second is this, That we ought to implore of GOD the poize of his Grace, and that Preventing Delight, which See the Illustrations. JESVS CHRIST has particularly merited for us, without which, let us lighten the former Scale as much as we can, it will constantly be lowermost; and (though never so little heavier) will infallibly sink us into Sin and Disorder.

These two things are absolutely necessary to restore us to, and continue us in our Duty. Reason, as we see, agrees intirely with the Gospel, by both which we are taught, that the Privation, Denegation, and Diminution of the Weight of Sin, are necessary Preparatives for the Weight of Grace to re-establish us and unite us unto GOD.

But though in this State of Ours, we are under a Perpetual Obligation of warring with our Senses, yet we should not conclude from thence, they are absolutely corrupted, or disorder'd. For if it be consider'd, that they were given us for the Preservation of our Body, we shall find them acquit themselves of their Duty so excellently well, and conduct us in that just and faithful manner to their End, that they seem to be injuriously charg'd with Corruptness and Irregularity: They so readily advertise the Soul by Pleasure and Pain, by agreeable and disagreeable Tasts and other Sensations, of what she ought to do, or not to do, for the preservation of Life, that it cannot but be unreasonably said, that this Order and this Exactness are the consequents of Sin.

Our Senses therefore are not so Corrupted as is imagin'd,II. That our Liberty, not our Senses is the true cause of our Errors. but 'tis that which is more Inward to the Soul, 'tis our Liberty which is corrupted. They are not our Senses that deceive us, but the Will, by its rash and precipitate Judgments, leads us into Error. When, for instance, we see Light, it is most certain that we see Light; when a Man feels Heat, he is not mistaken in believing that he feels it, whether before or after the first Sin. But thus we deceive our selves in judging that the Heat which is felt, is out of the Soul which feels it, as we shall explain hereafter.

The Senses then would in no wise cast us into Error, did we not imploy our Liberty amiss, and judge of things upon their Report, without sufficient Caution and Advertency. But because it is very difficult to help this, and we are, as it were, forc'd to't, on the account of the strict Union of our Soul and Body, see in what manner we ought to behave our selves in using them, that we may avoid falling into Error.

We ought exactly to observe this Rule;III. A Rule for avoiding Error in the use of our Senses. Never to judge by the Senses what things are in themselves, but only of the Relation they have to one another: Because, indeed, the Senses were not given us for the knowing the Truth of things as they are in their own Nature, but only for the Preservation of our Body.

But that we may be altogether deliver'd from that Facility and Inclination we have to follow the Guidance of the Senses in the Search after Truth, we shall in the succeeding Chapters, give a Summary of the most Principal and General Errors into which they throw us, whereby the Truth of what we have been advancing will be manifest and acknowledg'd.

CHAP. VI.

I. Of the Errors of Sight in respect of Extension absolutely consider'd. II. A Continuation of these Errors about invisible Objects. III. Of the Errors of Sight touching Extension relatively consider'd.

THE Sight is the First, the most Noble and Comprehensive of all the Senses, insomuch that had it been given us for the Discovery of Truth, it alone had had more to do than all the Other; wherefore if we can overthrow the Authority the Eyes obtain over our Reason, it will be sufficient to undeceive us; and to possess us with a general distrust of all the other Senses.

Our business therefore is to make it appear, That we ought in no wise to rely on the Testimony of our Sight, in our Judgment of the Truth of things, as they are in their own Nature, but only in discovering the Relation they have to the welfare and preservation of our Body. That our Eyes generally deceive us in all the Representations they make of things, in the Magnitude, in the Figures, and Motions of Bodies, in Light and Colours, which are the only things we see: That none of these things are really what they seem to be, that all Mankind is mistaken in them, and that hereby we fall into other Errors numberless and infinite.

We begin with Extension. Lo!I. Of the Errors of sight in respect of Extension absolutely consider'd. then the Reasons that induce us to believe that our Eyes never represent it to us such as it is in it self. With Glasses we discover as often as we please, Animals much less than a grain of Sand, which is almost invisible: See the Journal of the Learned. Nov. 12. 1668. Nay, there have been seen a thousand times less than they. These animated Atoms walk and move no less than other Animals: Therefore they must have Legs and Feet, Bones in their Legs to support them, Muscles to move them, Tendons and infinite Fibres in every Muscle; lastly, Blood or animal Spirits extreamly subtil and refin'd, either to fill or make these Muscles move successively. Without this it is impossible to conceive they live, are nourish'd, or translate their little Bodies into different places, according to the different Impressions of Objects; or rather 'tis impossible for those Men themselves [Page] have spent all their Life in Anatomy, and in disclosing Nature, to imagine the number, the diversity, the delicacy, of all the parts these little Bodies are necessarily compounded of, whereby they live and perform all those things we see them do.

The Imagination is lost and confounded at so incredible a littleness; it cannot catch the vanishing parts, nor take hold of them, as being too little to be grasp'd by it: And though Reason justifies our Assertion, the Senses and Imagination withstand the Conviction, and bring us back to Doubt and Uncertainty.

Our Sight is extreamly short and limited; but it ought not to prescribe limits to its Object: The Idea it gives us of Extension has very narrow bounds, but it does not from thence follow the bounds of Extension are so. It is doubtless infinite in a certain Sense; and that diminutive part of Matter which is hidden from our Eyes is capable of containing a World, in which may be hid as many things, though less proportionably, as appear in this great World in which we live.

These little Creatures, which we have been speaking of, may possibly have other little Animals to prey upon them, and which are imperceptible to them by reason of their unspeakable smallness, as the others are imperceptible to us. What an Hand-worm is in comparison to us, That those little Animals are in respect of an Hand-worm; and perhaps there may be in Nature less, and less still to infinity, proceeding in that prodigious proportion of a Man to an Hand-worm.

We have Evident and Mathematical Demonstrations of the Divisibility of Matter in infinitum, and that's enough to persuade us there may be Animals, still less and less than others in infinitum; though our Imagination is frighted and starts at such a conception. GOD made Matter only to frame his wonderful Works out of it; wherefore since we are certain that there are no parts of it, the Minuteness whereof is capable of giving Limits to his power, in the formation of these little Animals, why should we unreasonably confine and lessen the Idea of an Infinite Artist by measuring the Greatness and Depth of his Power and Wisdom, by our finite and shallow Imagination?

We have been in part undeceiv'd by Experiment, which hath discover'd to us such Animals as are a thousand times less than an Hand-worm, why should we suppose that they are the Last and the Least of all? For my part, I see no reason to imagine: 'Tis much more reasonable to be believ'd, there are far less than those already discover'd: For, in fine, little Animals are never wanting for the Microscopes, but we want Microscopes for them.

If one examines in the midst of Winter the Cicatricle of a Tulip-roop, with a plain Magnifying or a Convex Glass,Fr. Le germe. or even with the bare Eye, one may easily discover it in the Leaves which are become green: Those which are to make the Flower or the Tulip, the little triangular part which contains the Seed, and the six little Columns that incompass it at the bottom of the Tulip. Thus it cannot be doubted but the Cicatricle of a Tulip-root contains in it a Tulip all entire.

It's reasonable to believe the same thing of the Cicatricle of a grain of Mustard, of that of the kernel of an Apple, and generally of all sorts of Trees and Plants, though it cannot be discern'd with the Eye, nor yet with a Microscope; and we may with some sort of certainty affirm, That all Trees lye in Miniature in the Cicatricle of their Seed.

Nor does it appear unreasonable to think that there are infinite Trees conceal'd in a single Cicatricle; since it not only contains the future Tree whereof it is the Seed, but also abundance of other Seeds, which may all include in them new Trees still, and new Seeds of Trees: Which new Seeds possibly may be big with other Trees, and other Seeds of Trees as fruitful as the former, in an incomprehensible littleness, and thus in Infinitum. So that, according to this Notion (which will not be thought impertinent or whimsical, except by those who measure the Wonders of the Infinite Power of GOD, by the Idea's of their Senses and Imagination) it may be said, that in the single kernel of an Apple, may be involved Apple-trees, Apples and Seeds of Apple-trees, for infinite or almost infinite Ages, in that proportion of a perfect Apple-tree to an Apple-tree in its Seeds. And, That Nature does only open and unfold these little Trees, by giving a sensible growth to that which is out of its Seed; and insensible, but most real increases, to those which we conceive to be in their Seeds, in proportion to their Bigness. For it cannot be doubted but there are Bodies little enough to insinuate themselves between the Fibres of those Trees, which we conceive in their Seeds, and to be serviceable to their Nourishment.

What has been said of Plants and their Cicatricles, we have liberty to conceive of Animals, and of the Cicatricles of which they are produc'd. We see in the Cicatricle of a Tulip-root an entire Tulip. The Cicatricle or the Sperm of the Egg is a little white spot upon the Yolk. See Malpigh. de Formatione Pulli in Ova. We see in the Cicatricle of a new-laid Egg, and which had never been brooded, a Chicken, which is possibly compleatly form'd. We see See Swammerdam's Miraculum naturae. Frogs in the Eggs of Frogs, and we shall see other Animals still in their Cicatricles when we have Art and Experience enough to discover them. But 'tis not for the Mind to stand still, when the Eyes can go no farther: For the view of the Soul is of a greater compass than the sight of the Body. Besides this therefore, we ought to think, That all the Bodies of Men and of Beasts, which should be born or produc'd till the End of the World, were possibly created from the Beginning of it: I would say, That the Females of the Original Creatures were, for ought we know, created together, with all those of the same Species which have been, or shall be, begotten or procreated whilst the World stands.

[Page]We might push this Thought much farther yet, and it may be with a great deal of Reason and Truth: But we have just cause to fear, lest we should be too desirous of penetrating too far into the Works of GOD: We see nothing but Infinities round about us: And not only our Senses and our Imagination are too limited to comprehend them; but the Mind it self, however pure and disengag'd from Matter, is too gross as well as too feeble to pierce into the least of the Works of the Almighty. 'Tis lost, 'tis dissipated, 'tis dazled and amazed at the view of that, which, according to the Language of the Senses, is call'd an Atom. Notwithstanding, the Pure Intellect has this advantage above the Imagination of the Senses, that it acknowledges its own Weakness, and the Almightiness of GOD: Whereas our Imagination and our Senses bring down the works of GOD, and audaciously set themselves above them, and so throw us headlong and blind-fold into Error. For our Eyes furnish us not with the Idea's of any of those things we discover by Microscopes and our Reason. We perceive not by our Sight any less Body than an Hand-worm, or a Mite. The half of a Hand-worm is nothing if we rely on the Report of our Eyes. A Mite is a Mathematical point in their account, which you can't divide, but you must annihilate. Our Sight then does not represent Extension to us, as it is in it self, but as it is in Relation to our Body: And because the half of a Mite has no considerable relation to our Body, and has no influence either towards the Preservation or Destruction of it; therefore our Eyes entirely conceal it from Us.

But if we had Eyes made after the manner of Microscopes, or rather, if we were as little as Hand-worms and Mites, we should judge of the Magnitude of Bodies in a far different manner. For, without doubt, these little Animals have their Eyes so dispos'd as to see the Bodies that surround them and their own Bodies, far greater than we see them▪ for otherwise they could not receive such impressions as were necessary to the Preservation of Life, and so the Eyes they have would be altogether useless.

But that we may throughly explain these things, we must consider, that our Eyes are in effect only Natural Spectacles; that their humours have the same way of Operating as the Glasses in the Spectacles, and that according to the figure of the Crystalline, and its distance from the Retina, we see Objects very differently; insomuch that we cannot be assur'd there are two Men in the World that see Bodies of the self-same bigness, since we cannot be assur'd there are two Men's Eyes altogether made alike.

'Tis a Proposition that ought to be imbrac'd by all those who concern themselves with Opticks, That Objects which appear equally distant are seen so much bigger, as the figure which is delineated in the fund of the Eye is bigger. Now it is certain that in the Eyes of those Persons whose Crystalline is more convex, the Images are painted lesser, in proportion to the convexity. Those then who are short-sighted having their Crystalline more convex see the Objects lesser than those whose Crystalline is of the common standard, or than old People, who want Spectacles to read with, but see perfectly well at a distance; since those whose Sight is short must necessarily have the Crystalline more convex, on supposition their Eyes, as to the other parts, are equal.

'Twere the easiest thing in Nature to demonstrate all these things Geometrically; and were they not of the number of those which are very well known, I would insist longer upon them to make them evident. But because several have already handled this Subject, I desire such as are willing to be instructed therein, to turn to them and consult them.

Since it is not manifest that there are two Men in the World who see Objects in the same bulk and magnitude, and generally the same Man sees them bigger with his left Eye than his right, according to the Observations which have been made, and are related in the Journal of the Learned from Rome, in January 1669, it is plain we ought not to build upon the Testimony of our Eyes, so as to pass our judgment from it. It is much better to attend to Reason, which proves to us, That we are unable to determine what is the absolute Magnitude of Bodies which encompass us, or what Idea we ought to have of the Extension of a Foot-square, or of that of our own Body; so as that Idea may represent it to us as it is. For we learn from Reason, that the least of all Bodies would be no longer little, if it were alone, since it is compounded of an infinite number of parts out of each of which GOD could frame an Earth, which yet would be but a single Point in comparison of the rest in conjunction. Thus the Mind of Man is incapable of forming an Idea great enough to comprehend and embrace the least Extension in the World, since the Mind has bounds, but that Idea should be infinite.

It is true, The Mind may come very near the Knowledge of the Relations these infinites have to one another, which constitute the World; it may know, for instance, one of them to be double to another, and that a Fathom is the measure of six Foot. Yet for all this it cannot form an Idea to it self that can represent these things as they are in their own Nature.

Well, but let it be suppos'd that the Mind is capable of Idea's, which equal or which measure the Extension of Bodies, which we see; for it would be a difficult undertaking to convince Men of the contrary: Let us see what may be concluded from the Supposition. Doubtless this will be the Conclusion, That GOD does not deceive us: That he has not given us Eyes like Glasses, to magnifie or diminish the Object, and therefore we ought to believe that our Eyes represent things as really they are.

'Tis true, GOD never deceives us, but we often deceive our selves, by judging of things with an unwarrantable rashness. For we often judge that the Objects whereof we have Idea's exist, and likewise that they altogether resemble their Idea's; when yet it often falls out that the Objects are neither like their Idea's, nor do they exist at all.

[Page]The Existence of a thing does no ways follow from our having an Idea of it, much less does it follow that the thing is perfectly like the Idea which we have thereof. It cannot be concluded from GOD's giving us such a sensible Idea of Magnitude upon the presentation of a six Foot-rule to our Eyes, that this Rule has the same Extension, as it is represented to us by that Idea? For first, All Men have not the same sensible Idea of this same measure, since all Men have not their Eyes disposed in the same manner. Again, The same Person has not the same sensible Idea of a six Foot-rule, when he beholds it with his left Eye, as when he views it with his right, as has been already said. Finally, It often happens that the self-same Person, entertains quite different Idea's of the same Objects at different times, according as they are suppos'd nearer or farther off, as shall be explain'd in its proper place.

It is then nothing but prejudice grounded upon no good reason to think we see Bodies according to their real Magnitude; for our Eyes being not given us for any other purpose than the security of our Body, they discharge their Duty admirable well, in giving us such Idea's of Objects as are proportion'd to its magnitude.

But the better to conceive what ought to be our judgments concerning the Extension of Bodies, from the Report of our Eyes, let us imagine GOD to have created in Epitomie, out of a portion of matter of the bigness of a small Globe, an Heaven and Earth, and Men upon this Earth, with all other things, the same proportion being observ'd, as in this Grand World. These little Men would see each other, and the parts of their Bodies, as likewise the little Animals which were capable of incommoding them. Otherwise their Eyes would be useless to their preservation. It is manifest then from this Supposition, these little Men would have Idea's of the magnitude of Bodies quite different from ours; since they would look upon their little World, which would be but a Ball in our account, as stretch'd out into infinite spaces, just as we do in respect of the World in which we are.

Or if this is not so easie to be conceiv'd, let us suppose GOD had created an Earth infinitely vaster than this which we inhabit, so that this new Earth should be to ours, what ours would be to that we have spoken of in the fore-going Supposition. Let us moreover conceive GOD Almighty to have observ'd in all the parts which went to the Composition of this New World, the very same proportion he has done in those which make up Ours. It is plain, that the Inhabitants of this latter World would be Taller, than the space betwixt our Earth and the most distant Stars we can discover: And this being so, it is manifest that if they had the same Idea's of Extension of Bodies as our selves, they would be able to discern some of the parts of their own Bodies, and and would see others of a prodigious unweildiness; so that 'tis ridiculous to think they would see things in the same Bigness as they are seen by us.

It is apparent in these two Suppositions we have made, that the Men, whether of the Great or Little World, would have Idea's of the Magnitude of Bodies very different from ours, supposing their Eyes to furnish them with Idea's of the Objects round about them, proportion'd to the Magnitude of their own Bodies. Now if these Men should confidently affirm upon the Testimony of their Eyes, that Bodies were of the very same bigness whereof they saw them, it is not to be doubted but they would be deceiv'd; and I suppose no Man will make a question of it: And yet it is certain that these Men would have as Good Reason to justifie their Opinion, as we have to defend our Own. Let us acknowledge then, from their Example, That we are very uncertain of the Magnitude of Bodies, which we see, and that all which can be known by us concerning them from the Testimony of Sight, is only the mutual Relation there is between Them and Us. In a word, that our Eyes were never given us whereby to judge of the Truth of things, but only to give us notice of such as might either molest or profit us in something or other.

But 'tis not thought sufficient for Men to credit their Eyes only, in order to judge of Visible Objects:II. A Continuation of these Errors about Invisible Objects They think they are to be trusted farther, even to judge of those which are Invisible. Because there are some things which they cannot see, they conclude they do not exist, attributing to their Sight a Penetration in a manner Infinite. This is an Impediment which prevents their discovering the real Causes of abundance of Natural Effects: For that they ascribe them to Imaginary Faculties and Qualities, is often meerly for want of discerning the True, which consist in the different Configurations of these Bodies.

They see not, for Instance, the little parts of Air or Flame, much less those of Light, or of a matter still more fine and subtil: And upon this score they are ready to believe, they are not in being, at least, conclude them void of force and action. They betake themselves to Occult Qualities, or Imaginary Faculties to explain all the Effects, whereof those Imperceptible parts are The True and Natural Cause.

They had rather have recourse to the horror of a Vacuum to Explain the Elevation of water in the Pump, than impute it to the Gravitation of the Air. They chuse to ascribe the Flux and Reflux of the Sea, to the Qualities of the Moon, rather than to the pressure of the Atmosphere, that is, to the Air which surrounds the Earth; and the Elevation of Vapours to the Attractive Faculties of the Sun, than to the simple Motion of Impulse, caused by the parts of the Subtil Matter, which it continually diffuses abroad.

They look upon those as Men of trifling and impertinent Thought, who have recourse only to the Flesh and Blood, in accounting for all the Motions of Animals: Likewise for the habits, and the Corporeal Memory of Men: And this partly proceeds from the Conception they have of the littleness of the Brain, and its incapacity thereupon to preserve the Traces of an almost infinite number of things, lodg'd in it. They had rather admit, though they can't conceive how, [Page] a Soul in Beasts, which is neither Body nor Spirit; Qualities and Intentional Species, for the Habits and Memory of Men; or such like things, notwithstanding they have no particular Notion of them in their Mind.

I should be too tedious should I stand to reckon up all the Errors we fall into through this Prejudice. There are very few in Natural Philosophy, to which it has not given some occasion; and if a Man should make a considerate Reflexion thereupon, he would possibly be astonish'd at it.

But though I am not willing to dwell too long upon these things, yet I cannot so easily pass by the contempt Men generally have for Insects, and other little Animals which are produc'd out of a Matter, call'd by them Corrupted. 'Tis a very unjust contempt, founded only on the Ignorance of the thing despis'd, and the fore-mention'd Prejudice. There is nothing despicable in Nature, and all the Works of GOD are worthy of our Respect and Admiration; especially if we attend to the wonderful ways he takes both in making, and perserving them. The least of Flies are as compleat, as Animals of an excessive bulk or stature: The proportions of their Limbs are as just as those of the other: And it seems moreover that GOD has design'd them greater Ornaments to recompense them for the Littleness of their Bodies. They have Coronets and Plumes, and other Attire upon their Heads, which out-shine all that the Luxury of Men can invent. And I dare venture to say, that all those who have never made use of any thing but their Eyes, have never seen any thing so splendid, so exact, or so magnificent in the Palaces of the greatest Princes, as may be seen with Glasses on the Head of an ordinary Fly.

'Tis true, these things are exceedingly Little, but it is still more surprizing to find such a Collection of Beauties in so little Room; and though they are very common, yet that is no Diminution to their Value; nor are those Animals thereby less perfect in themselves; but on the contrary, the Power and Wisdom of GOD appear more wonderful, who with such Profusion and Magnificence has shewn an almost infinite number of Miracles in their Production.

And yet our Sight conceals all these Beauties from us: It makes us despise all these Works of GOD so worthy of our Admiration: And because these Animals are little in Relation to our Body, it causes us to consider them as little absolutely, and consequently as despicable by reason of their Littleness; as if Bodies could be little in themselves.

Let us strive then to forbear following the Impressions of our Senses, in the judgment which we pass on the Magnitude of Bodies: And when we say, for Instance, That a Bird is little, let it not be absolutely understood: For nothing is Great or Little in it self: Even a Bird is great, in comparison of a Fly; and if it be little in respect of our Body, it doth not follow it is absolutely so; since our Body is not the most perfect Rule by which we ought to measure others. It is it self very little in reference to the Earth, as is the Earth it self in respect of the Circumference which the Sun or Earth describe round each other: And so is that Circumference in relation to the space contain'd betwixt us and the six'd Stars; and so continuing the progression on. For we may still imagine spaces greater and greater ad infinitum.

But it must not be imagin'd that our Senses exactly inform us of the Relation other Bodies have to our own: For Exactness and Justness are no ways essential to sensible Notices,III. Of the Errors of sight touching Extension relatively consider'd. which should only be Instrumental to the Preservation of Life. It is true we know exactly enough the Relation Bodies, which are near us, have with our own. But in proportion to the distance these Bodies are remov'd from us, we know less of them, because then they have less relation to our Body. The Idea or Sensation of Magnitude, which we have upon sight of a Body, lessens in proportion to the Body's being in a less capacity of hurting us: And that Idea or Sensation increases proportionably as the Body approaches nearer, or rather, as the Relation it has to our Body, is augmented. Finally, If this Relation altogether ceases; that is, if any Body is so little or so distant from us, as to be incapable of hurting us, we forthwith lose the Sensation of it. So that by our Sight we may sometimes judge pretty nearly of the Relation other Bodies have to ours: And of that which they have to one another: But we ought never to think they are of the same Magnitude they appear to us.

Our Eyes, for Example, represent the Sun and Moon of one or two Feet diameter, but we should not imagine with Epicurus and Lucretius, that they are really of that dimension. This same Moon seems to us upon sight far greater than the greatest Stars, yet no Man doubts but it is incomparably less: Thus we see daily on the Earth two things or more, of whose magnitude we can have no exact assurance; because to make a judgment of this Nature, 'tis necessary to know the precise distance of these Bodies, which is very difficult to be known.

We are even hard put to't to judge with any kind of certainty of the Relation there is betwixt two Bodies though never so near us. We are forc'd to take them in our hands, and hold them one against the other to compare them; and after all, we often hesitate without being able justly to determine any thing. This is visibly acknowledg'd as often as a Man would examine which are biggest of some pieces of Coin that are almost equal; for he is then oblig'd to put them one upon another, to discover by a surer Method than by Sight whether they correspond in bigness. Our Eyes therefore not only deceive us in the Magnitude of Bodies absolutely consider'd, but even in the Relation those Bodies have betwixt themselves.

CHAP. VII.

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I. Of the Errors of Sight about Figures. II. We have no Knowledge of the least of them. III. The Knowledge we have of the greater, is not exact. IV. An Explication of some Natural Judgments which prevent our Deception. V. That these very Judgments deceive us in some particular junctures.

I. Of the Errors of sight about Figures.OUR Sight is less liable to deceive us in the Representation of Figures, than in the Representation of any other thing; because Figure is not a thing of an absolute kind, but its Nature consists in the Relation which is between the parts which terminate some space, and a certain point, which we conceive in that space, and which we may call, as in a Circle, the Centre of the Figure. Notwithstanding, we are mistaken a thousand ways in Figures, and the Knowledge we receive from our Senses, is not exceedingly exact concerning any one of them.

II. We have no knowledge of the least of them.We have already prov'd that our Sight discovers not to us all sorts of Extension, but only that which is in some considerable proportion to our Body; and that for this reason we see not all the parts of the minutest Animals, nor those that constitute all hard and liquid Bodies. Thus, not being able to perceive these parts by reason of their Littleness, it follows we are as unable to perceive their Figures; since the figure of Bodies is nothing but the Term that bounds them. See here what an infinite number of invisible figures present themselves in an instant, which are far more numerous than those our Eyes acquaint us withal: which yet induce the Mind, that trusts too much to their reach and capacity, and stands not to examine things to the bottom, to believe these Figures don't exist.

III. The knowledge we have of the greater, is not exact.As for Bodies proportion'd to our Sight, (the number whereof is very inconsiderable in comparison of the other) we discover their figure tolerably well, but never know it exactly by our Senses. Nay, we cannot so much as be assur'd from our Sight if a Circle or a Square, which are two of the most simple figures that are, be not an Ellipsis and a Parallelogramme, though these figures be both in our Hands, and very near our Eyes.

I add farther, that we cannot exactly discern whether a Line be Right or not, especially if it be somewhat long. We must then have a Rule for it: But to what purpose? we know not whether the Rule it self be such as we suppose it ought to be; nor can we be fully satisfy'd concerning it. And yet without the knowledge of this Line, we can never know any figure, as is evident to all the World.

This is what may be said in general of Figures, which we have before our Eyes, and in our Hands. But if we suppose them at a distance from us, how many changes do we find in the projection they make in the fund of our Eyes. I will not stand to describe them here; they may easily be learn'd in any Book of Opticks, or by examining the Figures which we see in Pictures. For since the Painter is oblig'd to change them almost all, to the end they may appear in their Natural site, and to paint, for instance, Circles like Ellipses: 'Tis an infallible sign of the Errors of our Sight, in Objects that are not Painted; But these Errors are corrected by fresh Sensations, which possibly may be lookt upon as a sort of Natural Judgments, and may be term'd the Judgments of the Senses.

IV. An Explication of some Natural judgments which prevent our deception.In beholding a Cube, for Example, it is certain that all the sides we see of it never cause a Projection, or an Image of an equal dimension in the fund of our Eyes; since the Image of all these sides, when painted in the Retina or the Optick Nerve, nearly resembles a Cube pictur'd in Perspective; and consequently the Sensation we have of it, ought to represent the faces of a Cube unequal; because they are so in Perspective. This notwithstanding, we see them all equal, nor are we in an Error.

Now it might be said, That this is occasion'd by a kind of Judgment, which we are naturally inclin'd to make; namely, That the Faces of the Cube which are farthest from us, ought not to cast on the fund of our Eyes so large Images as the Faces which are nearer; but whereas Sensation, is only peculiar to the Senses, and Judgment, in propriety of Speech cannot be ascrib'd to them; it is certain this Judgment is only a Compound-sensation, which consequently may be sometimes false.

However, since that which is only Sensation in us, may in Relation to the Author of Nature, who excites it, be consider'd as a kind of Judgment, I speak sometimes of Sensations as of Natural Judgments; because this form of Speaking is expedient in giving an account of things; as may be seen towards the End of the Ninth Chapter, and in several other places.

V. That these very judgments deceive us in some particular junctures.Though the Judgments I speak of, are serviceable in correcting our Senses, a thousand different Ways, and without them we should hardly ever be in the Right, nevertheless they fail not to be sometimes the occasion of our Error. If it happens, for instance, that we see the Spire of a Steeple behind a great Wall, or beyond a Mountain, it will appear to us to be both little and at no great distance: But if we should see it at the same distance, but with many Fields and Houses lying betwixt us and it, it would undoubtedly appear both much bigger and more remote; although in both cases the projection of the Rays of the Steeple or the [...]mage of [Page] the Steeple, which is pictur'd in the fund of our Eye, is altogether the same. Now it may be said that the reason why we see it greater, is the judgment we naturally make, viz. That because so many Fields lie betwixt us and the Steeple, it must needs be more remote, and consequently greater.

But if on the other hand, we saw no interjacent Lands betwixt our Eyes and the Steeple, tho' at the same time we knew there were many, and that it was a great way off, which is very observable, it would notwithstanding seem to us to be very little and very near, as I have said before: which we may farther suppose to happen from a kind of judgment natural to our Soul, whereby she sees the Steeple in this manner, because she judges it to be at five or six hundred paces distance. For generally our Imagination represents no greater space betwixt the objects and our selves, unless assisted by a sensible view of other intervening objects; and beyond which, it has still liberty to imagine something more.

'Tis for this reason that the Moon at the Rising or Setting, is seen much bigger,See the 9. Chapter towards the end. than when elevated a good height above the Horizon: For this elevation removes our view from off the objects lying betwixt us and her, the dimensions whereof we know; so that we cannot judge of that of the Moon by forming the comparison between them. But when she is just risen, or about to set, we see a great many Fields, betwixt her and us, of whose extension we have a tolerable knowledge; and thus it is that we judge her more remote, and upon that reason see her so large as we do.

And it must be observ'd, That when she is elevated above our heads, though our Reason most infallibly assures us, she is vastly distant, yet we cannot avoid seeing her very near, and very little; because indeed these Natural Judgments of the Sight, are founded only on the Perceptions of the same Sight, and Reason is unable to correct them: So that they frequently lead us into Error, by making us form voluntary judgments, that go hand in hand along with them. For when we judge according to our Sensations, we are always deceiv'd, though we never err in judging according to our Conceptions: because the Body is no farther instructive, than is conducing to the Body, and 'tis only GOD who always teaches us the Truth, as shall be shewn hereafter.

These false Judgments not only deceive us in the Distance and Magnitude of Bodies, which are not the Subject of this Chapter, but in representing their Figure otherwise than it is. We see, for Instance, the Sun and Moon, and other very remote Spherical Bodies as if they were flat, and only circular: Because at that great distance we are unable to discern whether the part opposite to us, is nearer us than the others; and on that account, we judge it is equally distant from us: And thus upon the same grounds we conclude the Stars with the Azure which appears in the Heaven, are rang'd in the same just distance, in a vault perfectly convex, since our Mind ever supposes Equality, where it discovers no Inequality; which yet it ought not positively to admit, unless there be evident conviction for it.

I shall not here insist longer on the Errors of our Sight, in respect of the Figures of Bodies, since a Man may be sufficiently instructed in any Book of Opticks. That Science in effect does only instruct us how to put fallacies on our Eyes; and its whole drift and artifice consists meerly in finding means of making us form those Natural Judgments, I have been speaking of, at a time when they are most impertinent and unseasonable. And this cheat may be acted in so many different ways, that, of all the Figures that are in the World, there is not any single one, but may be painted in a thousand different fashions; so that the Sight must unavoidably be deceiv'd. But, this is not the proper place of explaining these things more throughly. What I have said is sufficient, to let us see we should not give over-much credit to the Testimony of our Eyes, even in their Representations of the Figures of Bodies, though in point of Figures, their reports are much more faithful than in any other occasion.

CHAP. VIII.

I. That our Eyes are incapable of informing us of the Quantity or Swiftness of Motion considered in it self. II. That Duration, which is necessary to our Knowledge of the Quantity of Motion, is unknown to us. III. An Instance of the Errors of Sight about Motion and Rest.

HAVING already discover'd the most Fundamental and General Errors of our Sight touching Extension and its Figures, I come now to correct those in which this same Sight ingages us, about the Motion of Matter. And this has no great difficulty in it, after what I have already said of Extension. For there is so necessary a relation and dependence betwixt these two things, that if we are deceiv'd in the Magnitude of Bodies, we must as certainly be deceiv'd in their Motion too.

But, that I may advance nothing but what is clear and distinct, it is necessary to take off whatever is equivocal from the word Motion. For this Term has generally two significations. The [Page] first denotes a certain Power or Force, which we imagine in the Body mov'd, and which we suppose the cause of its Motion: The second is the Translation or continued Conveyance of a Body, either in its removal from, or approaching to another, which we consider as at rest.

When I say, for Instance, That a Boul has communicated its Motion to another, the word Motion is to be understood in its first signification: But if I say simply, that I see a Boul in a great Motion, it is to be taken in the second. In a word, the Term Motion signifies at once both Cause and Effect, which are yet two things altogether different.

I am perswaded that Men are under most palpaple and most dangerous mistakes, concerning the Force that gives this Motion, and Translation to the Bodies mov'd. Those fine Terms, Nature and Impress'd Qualities, are good for nothing but to shelter the Ignorance of the Falsly Learned, and the Impieties of the Libertine; as I could easily demonstrate. But this is not a place proper to discourse of the Power that moves Bodies,See the 3d. Ch. of the 2d. Part of the 6▪ Book. since that is not of a visible Nature; and I am only speaking here of the Errors of our Eyes. I defer it till a time when it will be more [...]easonable.

Motion taken in the second sense, that is, for the Translation of a Body in its removal from another, is something of a visible kind, and the Subject of this Chapter.

I. That our Eyes are incapable of informing us of the Quantity or Swiftness of Motion consider'd in it self.I have, I think, sufficiently demonstrated in the sixth Chapter, that our Sight does not acquaint us with the Quantity or Magnitude of Bodies, in themselves; but only with the mutual relation they stand in, to each other, and especially to our own. From whence I infer, that we are incapable of knowing the true and absolute Magnitude of their Motion, that is, of their swiftness or slowness, but only the relation these Motions have to one another, and more especially to the Motion ordinarily incident to our own Body. Which I thus prove.

It is certain that we know not how to judge how great the Motion of a Body is, but by the Length of the Space the Body has ran over. Thus our Eyes not informing us of the true Length of the Space describ'd by the Motion, it follows that 'tis impossible for us to know the true Quantity of the Motion.

This Argument is only a Corollary of that which I have said of Extension, and all the force it has proceeds from its being a necessary Conclusion of what I have there Demonstrated: I shall now give one which depends on no Supposition. I say then, that supposing we were able clearly to discover the true Quantity of the Space describ'd, it would no way follow, that we could know the Quantity of Motion also.

The Greatness or the Swiftness of Motion includes two things. The first is the Translation or Conveyance of a Body from one place to another, as from Paris to St. Germains: The second is the Time that necessarily goes to the making this Conveyance. Now it is not enough to know exactly how far Paris is distant from St. Germains, to know whether a Man has gone it with a Quick or a Slow Motion: But it must moreover be known how much time he has imploy'd in his Journey: Granting then that the Length of the Journey may be truly known; I utterly deny we can have an exact knowledge by our Sight, or indeed any other way whatever, of the Time that is spent in the passage, and of the true Quantity of Duration.

This is sufficiently evident, in that at certain times one Hour seems to us as long as four; and on the contrary at other times,II. That Duration which is necessary to our knowledge of the Quantity of Motion, is unknown to us. four Hours slip insensibly away: When, for Instance, a Man's Mind is fill'd with Joy, Hours seem no longer than a Moment; because then the time passes away without thinking of it. But when a Man is dejected with Grief, and lies under some sensible Pain or Affliction, every day is thought an entire Year. The reason of which difference is, That in this case the Mind is weary of its Duration, because it is Painful. The more it applies it self to the thought of it, the more it discovers it, and thereby finds it longer than in the season of Mirth and Joy, or some diverting Imployment, which as it were carries the Soul out of it self, to fix her closer to the Object of her Joy, or her Diversion. For as a Man finds a piece of Painting so much larger, by how much he stands to consider all the little things represented in it, with greater attention; or as he finds the head of a Fly considerably great, when he discerns all the parts of it with a Microscope; so the Mind finds its duration so much longer, as it considers it with greater Attention and is sensible of all the parts of it.

Insomuch that I dont at all doubt, but that GOD could so apply our Mind to the parts of its Duration, by giving us abundance of Sensations in a very little time, as to make one Hour appear as long as many Ages. For as there are no Indivisible Points in Bodies, so there are no Indivisible Instants in Duration. But as the least parts of Matter may be divided to Infinity, so the parts of Duration may be assign'd less and less to Infinity, as is easy to demonstrate. If then the Mind were made Attentive to the minutest parts of its Duration, by its Sensations which should leave some Traces in the Brain, whereby to remember them, it would undoubtedly seem much longer to it than it does.

But finally, the use of Watches is a convincing proof, that there can be no exact knowledge of Duration, and I desire no more. For since the knowledge of the absolute Greatness or Intenseness of Motion depends on a preceding knowledge of the Length of Duration, as we have shewn it does; it thence follows, that on Supposition we can never exactly know the absolute Quantity of Duration, we shall never be able to know exactly the absolute Quantity of Motion.

But because some Relations, which Duration, or one time has to another may be known, some Relations likewise which Motions have to one another may be equally understood: For as we can certainly know that the Solary Year is longer than the Lunary; so we can certainly know that a Cannon Bullet has greater Motion than a Tortoise. So that though our Eyes will not let [Page] us see the absolute Quantity of Motion, yet they fail not to assist us in discovering, nearly enough, the Relative Intenseness of it; I mean the Relation or Proportion of one Motion to another: And we have no need of any farther knowledge thereof for the Preservation of our Bodies.

There are many Instances to be given,III. An Instance of the Errors of Sight in respect of Motion and Rest. which manifestly shew that our Sight deludes us touching the Motion of Bodies; it very often happens, that the things which seem to us in Motion, are perfectly at Rest; and on the contrary those which seem to us at Rest, notwithstanding, are in Motion. As when a Man, for instance, sits on shipboard whilst the Vessel is under sail in a swift and steady Motion, he seems to see the Lands and Towns fly from him; they seem to be in motion, and the Vessel to stand still.

So if a Man were plac'd upon the Planet Mars, he would conclude upon sight that the Sun, the Earth, and the rest of the Planets together with all the Fixed Stars perform'd their circumvolution in about 24 or 25 hours; which is the space of time that Mars imploys in turning round his own Axis. And yet the Earth, the Sun, and the Stars never circuit round that Planet. So that this Man would see things in Motion which were at Rest, and would think himself at Rest, tho' he were in Motion all the time.

I stand not here to explain, how it comes to pass that the Man on shipboard would easily correct the mistake of his Eyes, but the Man suppos'd on the Planet Mars would obstinately defend his Error. The Reason of it is easie to be known: and we shall more readily find it by reflecting on what would happen to a Man that were asleep in a Vessel, who starting on a sudden, saw nothing when he wak'd, besides the top of a Mast of some Vessel that made towards him. For in case he saw not the Sails swell'd with the Wind, nor the Mariners at work, nor felt any Agitation or concussion of the Ship, or the like, he would absolutely be at a loss and in doubt, without knowing which of the two Vessels was in Motion; and neither his Eyes nor his Reason could give him any Information.

CHAP. IX.

A Continuation of the same Subject. I. A general Demonstration of the Errors of our Sight concerning Motion. II. That the Distance of Objects is necessary to be known, in order to judge of the Quantity of their Motion. III. The Mediums, whereby we know the Distances of Objects, are Examin'd.

I COME now to give a General Demonstration of all the Errors,I. A general Demonstration of the Errors of our Sight concerning Motion. into which our Sight leads us, in respect of the Motion of Bodies.

Let A be the Eye of the Spectator; C the Object, which I suppose at a convenient distance from A. I say, that though the Object remains fix'd in C, it may be thought to be remov'd as far as D, or to approach as near as B. And though the Object recedes towards D, it

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may be believ'd immoveable in C, and even to approach towards B; and on the contrary, though it approaches towards B, it may be thought to be immoveable in C, or even to recede towards D. That though the Object be advanc'd from C as far as E or H, or to G or K, it may be thought to have mov'd no farther than from C to F or I. And again on the other hand, that though the Object be mov'd from C unto F or I, a Man may think it mov'd to E or H, or else unto G or K. That if the Object be mov'd in a line equally distant from the Spectator, that is, in a circumference whereof the Spectator is the Centre; though that Object be mov'd from C to P, it may be thought to be mov'd only from B to O: and on the contrary, though it be mov'd only from B to O, it may be thought mov'd from C to P.

[Page]If beyond the Object C there happens to be another Object, suppose M; which is thought at rest, and which notwithstanding is in motion towards N: Though the Object C remains unmoved, or is mov'd with a more gentle motion towards F, than M is mov'd towards N, it will yet seem to be oppositely mov'd towards Y; and on the contrary, if &c.

II. That the Distance of Objects is necessary to be known in order, to judge of the Quantity of their Motion.It is plain that the proof of all these Propositions except the last, in which there is no difficulty, depends on one Supposition only, namely this, that we cannot with any assurance determine concerning the Distance of Objects. For if it be true that we cannot judge thereof with any certainty, it follows that we cannot be assured whether C is advanc'd on towards D, or has approached towards B, and so of the other Propositions.

Now to know whether the judgments we form of the Distance of Objects are infallible, we have no more to do than to examine the means we make use of to judge concerning it. If these means are uncertain, 'tis not possible the Judgment's depending on them should be more infallible. There are many of them, which it is necessary to explain.

III. The Mediums whereby we know the Distances of Objects, are examined.The first, the most universal, and sometimes the safest way we have, whereby to judge of the distance of Objects, is the Angle made by the Rays of our Eyes, whereof the Object is the Vertical Point, that is, the Object is the Point, where the two Rays meet. When this Angle is very large, the Object appears near at hand, on the contrary when it is very acute, we see the Object a great way off. And the change which happens in the situation of our Eyes, according to the changes of this Angle, is the means the Soul imploys to judge concerning the Distance or Nighness of Objects. For just as a Blind Man having two strait Sticks in his hands, the length whereof he did not know, may by a kind of Natural Geometry give a tolerable conjecture concerning the distance of any Body, in touching it with the end of his two Sticks, by reason of the Disposition and Distance he finds his hands in,The Soul does not make all those judgments I a [...]tribute to her; these Natural judgments are nothing but Sensations, and I only speak thus, the better to explain things. with respect to one another; so it may be said that the Soul judges of the Distance of an Object by the Disposition of her Eyes, which is different according as the Angle, whereby she sees, is great or little, that is, as the Object is nearer or farther off.

A Man would easily be convinc'd of what I say, if he would be at the trouble of making a very easie Experiment: As, let him hang a Ring at the end of a thread, so plac'd that the hoop being turn'd directly towards him, the aperture of it may not appear; or if he please let him drive a Stick in the ground, and take another in his hand, that is curv'd at the end; let him retreat three or four steps from the Ring or the Stick, and shutting one Eye with one hand, let him try to hit the aperture of the Ring, or with the bent end of the Stick in his hand to touch the other across, at an height that is much upon a level with the Eye; and he will be surpriz'd to find himself incapable of doing it at an hundred tryals, though nothing in the world seems easier: Nay, though he should lay aside the Stick▪ and only endeavour to direct his finger cross-ways into the concavity of the Ring, he would find it difficult enough to be done, though he stood very near it.

But it ought to be well observ'd that I have said, A Man should endeavour to hit the aperture of the Ring, or to touch the Stick cross-wise, and not by way of a Right Line from our Eye to the Ring; for so indeed there would be no difficulty at all: so far from it, that it would be much easier to effect it, with one Eye shut, than with both of them open, since that would be a Rule to direct him.

Now it may be said, that the Difficulty, which is found, when a Man tries to direct the end of the Stick through the Ring cross-wise, with only one Eye [...]open, proceeds from this, namely, that one Eye being shut, the Angle I have mention'd is unknown. For to know the Magnitude of an Angle, it is not enough to know the length of its Base, and the Bigness of the Angle made by one of its Sides upon the Base; for this is known in the foregoing Experiment: But it is yet farther necessary to know the other Angle, which is made by the other Side upon the Base, or the length of one of the Sides. Which cannot be exactly known without opening the other Eye. And thus the Soul cannot make use of her Natural Geometry to judge of the Distance of the Ring.

The Disposition then of the Eyes, which accompanies the Angle made of the Visual Rays which cut each other and centre in the Object, is one of the best and most universal means the Soul imploys whereby to judge of the Distance of things. If then that Angle receives no sensible Alteration, upon a little removal of the Object, whether it approaches nearer us, or recedes from us, it will thence follow, that it is a fallacious means, and unserviceable to the Soul whereby to judge of the true distance of that Object.

Now 'tis plain that this Angle is notably chang'd, when an Object at about a foot distance from our Sight is translated four foot off: but if it be only translated from four to eight, the Alteration is much less discernible; if from eight to twelve, less yet: if from a thousand to an hundred thousand, hardly at all: Lastly, in carrying the Object farther on, even to the imaginary spaces, the change of the Angle grows imperceptible, and is quite lost. So that were there a considerable space betwixt A and C, the Soul could not by that means know whether the Object were near B or D.

This is the Reason why we see the Sun and Moon, as if they were involv'd in Clouds, tho' they are vastly distant from them; and that we naturally think all the Stars rang'd in an equal distance from us; that we imagine the Comets are fixt, and almost motionless, at the end of their course. We imagine too that Comets are entirely dissipated in some Months time, because they recede from us in almost a right Line, or a Line direct from our Eyes; and are going to lose themselves in the vast spaces, from whence they return not till after many Years, or even many Ages.

[Page]The second Medium the Soul imploys to judge concerning the Distance of Objects,The second Medium whereby to judge of the Distance of Objctes. consists in a Disposition of the Eyes, different from that I have been speaking of. In order to explain it, we must know it is absolutely necessary that the figure of the Eye be different, according to the different Distance of Objects which we see: For when a Man sees an Object near him, there is a necessity of his Eyes being longer, than if the Object were farther off: Because to the end the Rays of this Object may be collected in the Optick Nerve, which is necessary to its being seen, the distance between this Nerve and the Crystalline ought to be greater.

It is true, If the Crystalline became more convex when the Object were near, that would effect the same thing as the Elongation of the Eye. But 'tis not credible that the Crystalline can easily change its convexity; and on the other side, we have a most evident Experiment for the Elongation of the Eye: For Anatomy informs us, there are Muscles that surround the middle of the Eye; and we are sensible of the Effort these Muscles make to compress it, and lengthen it, when we have a mind to see any thing very near.

But it is not at all necessary, we should know here, by what way this is done; it is enough that there happens a Change in the Eye, whether it proceeds from the Pressure of the Muscles, that surround it; or whether the little Nerves, which answer to the Ciliary Ligaments which hold the Crystalline, suspended betwixt the other Humours of the Eye, become relax'd, to augment the convexity of the Crystalline; or intense, to diminish it.

For this Change which happens, whatever it be, is only to collect and unite the Rays of Objects, with an exact justness, upon the Optick Nerve. But it is certain that when the Object is five hundred Paces, or ten thousand Leagues distant, we behold it with the same Disposition of Eyes, without any sensible Change in the Muscles which surround the Eye, or in the Nerves which answer to the Ciliary Ligaments of the Crystalline: And the Rays of Objects are very exactly collected upon the Retina, or the Optick Nerve. Thus the Soul judges, that Objects at ten thousand or an hundred thousand Leagues distance, are no more than five or six hundred Paces off; when she judges of their Distance, only by the Disposition of the Eyes, which I have been speaking of.

However, it is certain this Medium is of use to the Soul, when the Object is nigh at hand. If, for instance, an Object is only at half a foot Distance, we discern its Distance well enough, through the Disposition of the Muscles which constringe our Eyes, in order to make them somewhat longer: And this Disposition is moreover painful. If the Object be remov'd two foot, we can still discern the Distance, because the Disposition of the Muscles is somewhat sensible still, although no longer painful. But if the Object be remov'd still some feet farther, this Disposition of our Muscles, grows so imperceptible, that it is altogether useless to us in judging of the Distance of the Object.

These then are two Means the Soul makes use of, to judge of the Distance of the Object, which are altogether useless, when the Object is remote to five or six hundred Paces, and which are never infallible, though the Object be much nearer.

The third Medium consists in the Greatness of the Image painted on the fund of the Eye,The third Medium whereby to judge of the Distance of Objects. and that makes the Representation of the Objects which we see. 'Tis confess'd that this Image grows less in proportion as the Object is remov'd to a greater Distance, but this Diminution grows so much less discernable, as the Object which changes its Distance is more remote. For when an Object is at a considerable Distance, as of five or s [...]ix hundred Paces, under or over in Proportion to its Bigness, there happens very considerable Changes in its remoteness, without any considerable Changes occasion'd in the Image which represents it, as is easie to be demonstrated. Thus the third Medium has the same defect as the other two, of which we have been speaking.

It is farther to be observ'd, That the Soul does not judge those Objects the remotest, that have the least Images painted on the Retina. When I see, for instance, a Man and a Tree at an hundred Paces distance, or suppose many Stars in the Heaven, I do not judge the Man to be more remote than the Tree, and the Little Stars farther distant than the Greater; though the Images of the Man, and the little Stars, that are pictur'd on the Retina, are less than the Images of the Tree and the Greater Stars. Besides it is necessary to know the greatness of an Object, to be able to judge nearly of its Distance, and because I know an House is bigger than a Man, tho' the Image of the House be bigger than that of a Man, I do not however judge the House nearest upon that account. And so it is in respect of the Stars; Our Eyes represent them to us equally remote, though it is very reasonable to believe some of them at a far greater distance than others. Thus there are infinite Objects, the Distance whereof we cannot know, since there are infinite Objects with whose Magnitude we are unacquainted.

We judge farther of the remoteness of an Object by the Force wherewith it acts upon our Eyes, because a remote Object acts more languishing and weakly than another; and again,The fourt [...] and fifth Mediums. by the Distinctness and Clearness of the Image, which is form'd in the Eye; because when an Object is remote, the Pupil of the Eye must needs be more open and Capacious▪ and Consequently the Rays must be collected somewhat confusedly. 'Tis for this reason that obscurer Objects, and such as we see confusedly, appear remote; and on the contrary, that luminous Bodies, and such as we see distinctly, seem near. It is plain enough, that these last Means are too fallible whereby to judge with any kind of Certainty concerning the distance of Objects: and I shall not any longer insist upon them, but come to the last of all, as being that which helps the Imagination most, and inclines the Soul more easily to judge that Objects are very remote.

[Page] The sixth Medium whereby to judge of the Distance of ObjectsThe sixth then and the Principal Medium of all, consists in this, viz. that the Eye exhibits not to the Soul a single Object separate from others, but gives her View at once of all those which lye, betwixt us and the Principal Object of our actual Consideration.

When for instance, we behold a Steeple at a considerable Distance, we usually see a great many interjacent Lands and Houses at the same time: and because we judge of the Remoteness of these Lands, and Houses, and in the mean time see the Steeple beyond them, we judge likewise, that it is not only more remote, but a great deal larger and taller, than if we saw it all alone: Notwithstanding the Image which is projected in the Fund of the Eye, is always of an equal Bigness, whether there are Lands and Houses lying betwixt us and it, or whether there are none, provided we see it from a place equally Distant, which is suppos'd. Thus we judge of the Bigness of Objects, according as we believe them remote from us; and the Bodies which we see betwixt us and the Objects, assist the Imagination mightily in judging of their Remoteness: just as we judge of the Extent of our Duration, or of the time that has pass'd since we have done any Action by the confus'd Remembrance of the things we have done, or of the Thoughts we have had successively since that Action. For they are all these Thoughts and Actions that have succeeded one another, which are assistant to the Mind in judging of the length of any Time, or of any part of our Duration: Or rather the confus'd Remembrance of all these successive Thoughts, is the same thing as the judgment of our Duration; as the confus'd View of Lands betwixt us and a Steeple, is the same thing as the judgment concerning the Remoteness of the Steeple.

Hence it is easy to assign the true Reason of the Moon's appearing larger at her Rising, than when considerably elevated above the Horizon. For at her Rising she appears many Leagues distant, and even beyond the sensible Horizon, or the Lands which terminate our Sight. Whereas we judge her but at half a Leagues Distance, or seven or eight times higher than our Houses when she is ascended above our Horizon. Thus we judge her far greater when she is near the Horizon, than when at a great distance from it; because we judge her to be far more remote from us, when she rises, than when mounted very high above our Horizon.

I confess a great part of the Philosophers attribute what I have been saying to the Vapours arising from the Earth. I agree with them in this, that the Rays of Objects being refracted by the Vapours, are a reason of the Objects seeming larger. I know there are more Vapours betwixt us and the Moon when rising, than when she is elevated a good height; and consequently she ought to appear somewhat larger than she would seem, if she were always equally remote. But yet it cannot be said, that this Refraction of the Lunary Rays is the cause of those apparent Changes of her Magnitude: For that Refraction is no Impediment why the Image delineated in the Fund of the Eyes when we see the Moon rising, may not be less than that which she projects, when she hath been a long time risen.

The Astronomers who measure the Diameters of the Planets, observe that the Diameter of the Moon is magnify'd in proportion to her Distance from the Horizon, and consequently in Proportion to her Appearing lesser to us: thus the Diameter of the Image which is painted in the Fund of our Eyes, it at that time least when we see the Moon biggest: Indeed, the Moon when she rises, is remoter from us by a Semidiameter of the Earth, than when she is perpendicularly over our Heads, and 'tis upon that account her Diameter grows greater in her Ascent above the Horizon, because then she's approaching nearest us.

The reason then that we see her Greater when she rises, is not the Refraction of her Rays meeting with the Vapours which proceed from the Earth, since the Image which is at that time form'd from those Rays, is lesser; but 'tis the Natural Judgment we make of her Remoteness, occasion'd by her appearing beyond those Lands which we see at a vast Distance from us, as has been before explain'd; and I am amaz'd to find Philosophers asserting that the reason of this Appearance, and Delusion of our Sences, is harder to be discover'd than the greatest Aequations of Algebra.

This Medium whereby we judge of the Remoteness of any Object, by knowing the Distance of the things betwixt us and it, is often of considerable use, when the other means I have spoke of, are wholly insignificant: for by this last Medium, we can judge that certain objects are many Leagues distant which we cannot do by any of the other. And yet if we strictly survey it, it will be found in several things deficient,

For, first, we can only make use of it, about things upon the Earth, since it can be but very rarely, and then very unprofitably imploy'd upon those in the Air, or in the Heavens. Secondly, it cannot be made use of on the Earth, but about things a few Leagues distant. In the third place, we ought to be certain that there are neither Mountains, nor Valleys, nor any thing of the like nature betwixt us and the Object, that hinders us from applying the afore-said Medium. Lastly, I am perswaded there is no body but has made sufficient Tryals upon the Subject, to be convinc'd, that it is a thing extreamly difficult to judge with any certainty of the Remoteness of Objects by a sensible View of the things lying betwixt us and them: and we perhaps have dwelt two long upon it.

These then are all the Means we have to judge of the Distance of Objects; in which, since we have found considerable Imperfections we cannot but conclude, that the Judgments that are grounded upon them, must needs be very Precarious and Uncertain.

Hence it is easy to manifest the truth of the Propositions I have advanc'd. The Object C was suppos'd considerably remote from A: Therefore in many Instances it may be advanc'd on towards [Page] D, or may have approach'd towards B, and no one can discover it, because there is no infallible Means whereby to judge of its Distance. Nay, it may recede towards D when it is thought to approach towards B; because the Image of the Object is sometimes augmented, and inlarged upon the Retina; whether it be because the Air betwixt the Object and the Eye occasions a greater Refraction at one time than at another; whether it proceeds from some little Tremlings, which happen in the Optick Nerve; or lastly, that the Impression, which is caus'd by an unexact Union of the Rays upon the Retina, is diffus'd and communicated to the parts, which ought to receive no Agitation from it; which may proceed from any different causes. Thus the Image of the same Objects, being larger on these occasions, gives the Soul reason to believe the Object approaches nearer. The like may be said of the other Propositions.

Before I conclude this Chapter, I would have it observ'd, That it is of great concern to us, in order to the Preservation of our Life, to have a nicer Knowledge of the Motion or Rest of Bodies, in Proportion to their Nighness to us: and that it is a thing useless and insignificant, to know exactly the truth of these things, when happening in places very remote. For this evidently shews that what I have generally advanc'd concerning all the Sences, how they never Discover things to us as they are absolutely, and in their own Nature; but only in Relation to the Preservation of our Body, is found exactly True in this particular: since we know the Motion or Rests of Objects proportionably better, as they approach nearer to us, and are incapable of judging of them by the Sences, when they are so remote as to seem to have no Relation at all, or very little to our Body: as, for instance, when they are five or six hundred Paces distant, if they be of a Moderate Bigness; or even Nearer than this, when they are Lesser; or somewhat farther off, when they are proportionably Greater.

CHAP. X.

Of our Errors about sensible Qualities. I. The Distinction of the Soul and Body. II. An Explication of the Organs of the Senses. III. To what part of the Body the Soul is immediately united. IV. An Instance to explain the Effect which Objects have upon our Bodies. V. What it is they produce in the Soul, and the Reasons why the Soul perceives not the Motions of the Fibres of the Body. VI. Four things which are generally confounded in every Sensation.

WE have seen in the fore-going Chapters that the Judgments we form upon the Testimony of our Eyes, concerning Extension, Figure, and Motion, are never exactly true. And yet it must not be allow'd that they are altogether false; they contain so much Truth at least as this amounts to, that there are Extension, Figures, and Motions, whatever they be, which are extrinsical, or without our selves.

I confess we often see things that have no Existence, nor ever had, and it ought not to be concluded that a thing is Actually without us, from our Seeing it without us. There is no necessary Connexion between the Presence of an Idea to the Mind of a Man, and the Existence of the Thing represented by the Idea. Which is manifest enough from the Consideration of what happens to Men in a Dream or a Delirium: And yet we may safely affirm, that ordinarily, Extension, Figures, and Motions, are without us when we see them so. Seethe Illustrations. These things are not in the Imagination only, but are Real. And we are not deceiv'd in believing them to have a Real Existence, and wholly independent on our Mind; tho' it be a very hard thing to prove it.

It is certain then that the Judgments we form concerning the Extension, the Figures, and Motions of Bodies, contain some Truth: But 'tis another case in point of those Judgments we make concerning Light, Colours, Tasts, Smells, and all other Sensible Qualities: For Truth has nothing to do with them, as shall be made manifest, in the remainder of this First Book.

We make not here any Distinction between Light and Colours, because we suppose them to have no great Difference; and that they cannot be separately Explain'd. We shall likewise be oblig'd to speak of other Sensible Qualities in general, at the same time we shall treat of these Two in particular, because they may be accounted for upon the same Principles. The things which follow demand the greatest Attention imaginable, as being of the highest Importance, and very different, as to their Usefulness, from those of the foregoing Discourse.

We instantly suppose a Man to have made some Reflections upon two I call by the Name of Idea here whatever is the Immediate Object of the Mind. Idea's which he finds in his Soul: one that represents the Body, and the other which represents the Mind;I. The Distinction of the Soul and Body. and that he is able easily to distinguish them by the positive Attributes they contain: In a word, that he is very well satisfi'd, that Extension is a different thing from Thought. Or we will suppose he has read and meditated on some places of St. Austin, as the 10th Chapter of the 10th Book, [Page] Concerning the Trinity, the 4th and 14th Chapters of his Book concerning The Quantity of the Soul, at least Mr. Des-Cartes's Meditations, especially that Part which treats of the Distinction of the Soul and Body: or lastly Mr. Cordemoy's sixth Dissertation, concerning the Difference of the Soul and Body.

II. An Explication of the Organs of the Senses.We suppose farther, that he is acquainted with the Anatomy of the Organs of the Senses; and knows that they consist of little Threads or Fibres, which derive their Origine from the middle of the Brain: that they are dispers'd through all the Members wherein there is Sensation, and being continued without any Interruption, are terminated upon the External parts of the Body; that whilst a Man is awake and in health, one of the Extremities cannot be mov'd but the other will be mov'd in the same time, because they are always somewhat Intense and upon the stretch: the same thing which happens to a Cord that is intense, one part whereof cannot be mov'd, but the other must receive some Vibration.

'Tis farther necessary to know that these little Threads or Fibres may be mov'd by two several ways, either by that end that is external to the Brain, or by the end which terminates in the Brain. If these Fibres are externally agitated by Objects acting on them, and this Agitation be not communicated so far as the Brain, as it happens in Sleep, the Soul receives no fresh Sensation from them at that time: But if these Fibres are moved in the Brain by the course of the Animal Spirits, or by any other cause, the Soul has a Perception of something: though the Parts of these Fibres which are without the Brain, and are dispers'd throughout all the Parts of the Body, are quiet and undisturb'd; as it happens when a Man's asleep.

III. The Soul is immediately united to that part of the Brain where the Fibres of the Organs of the Senses centre.It will not be amiss to observe here, by the way, that Experience certifies us, it is not impossible to feel Pain in those parts of our Body, which have been intirely cut off: Because the Fibres of the Brain, which correspond to them, being Vibrated in the same manner, as if those Parts were actually wounded, the Soul feels in those Imaginary Parts, a most real Pain. For all these things are a palpable Demonstration, that the Soul immediately resides in that Part of the Brain in which all the Organs of the Senses terminate and centre: I mean that in this Part she receives the Sensation of all the Changes, that there occur, in reference to the Objects that have caus'd them, or have us'd to cause them: and she has no Perception of any thing happening in any other Part, but by the Intervention of the Fibres which terminate therein. This being laid down and well understood, it will be no hard thing to discover how Sensation is effected, which is necessary to be explain'd by some particular Instance.

IV. An Instance to explain the effect which Objects have upon our Bodies.When a Man thrusts the Point of a Needle into his hand, this Point moves and separates the Fibres of the Flesh. These Fibres are extended from that Place to the Brain and whilst he is awake, they are so Intense, that they can receive no Concussion or Vibration, but it is Communicated to those in the Brain: It follows then that the Extremities of the Fibres in the Brain must be in like manner mov'd. If the motion of the Fibres of the Hand is Moderate, that of the Fibres of the Brain will be so too: and if this Motion is violent enough to break something in the Hand, it will be more forcible and violent in the Brain.

Thus if a Man holds his Hand to the Fire, the little parts of the Wood, whereof it continually throws out innumerable quantities with great violence (as Reason, upon the defect of our Sight, demonstrates) beat against the Fibres, and communicate a Part of their Agitation to them. If that Agitation be but moderate, that of the Extremities of the Fibres in the Brain which answer to the Hand will be moderate also. And if this Motion be violent enough in the Hand, to separate some Parts of it, as it happens when it is Burnt; the Motion of the Internal Fibres of the Brain will be proportionably stronger and more violent. This then is what occurs in our Body when Objects strike upon us: we must now see what happens to our Soul.

V. What it is that Objects produce in the Soul, and the Reasons why the Soul perceives not the Motions of the Fi [...]res of the Body.She is principally Resident, if we may be permitted so to speak, in that Part of the Brain, where all the Fibres of our Nerves are centred. She is seated there in order to cherish and preserve all the Parts of our Body: and consequently it is necessary she should have notice of all the Changes that occur therein, and that she be able to distinguish those which are adapted and agreeable to the Constitution of her Body, from the contrary; since it would be to no use or purpose for her to know them absolutely and without Relation to the Body. Thus though all the Changes of our Fibres do, in true speaking, consist merely in the Motions of them, which are generally no farther different, than according to the Degrees of more or less; yet it is necessary for the Soul to look upon these Changes as Essentially different: For though they differ very little in themselves, they ought however to be consider'd as Essentially different, in reference to the Preservation of the Body.

The Motion for instance, that produces Pain, has rarely any considerable difference from that which causes Titillation:This confus'd Reasoning or this Natural Judgement is only a Compound Sensation. See what I have said before of Natural Judgements, and the first Ch. of the 3d. Book. There is no necessity there should be any Essential Difference betwixt these two Motions, but it is necessary there should be an Essential Difference betwixt the Titillation and the Pain, which these two Motions cause in the Soul. For the Vibration of the Fibres which accompanies Titillation, certifies the Soul of the good Constitution of her Body, and assures her it has Strength enough to resist the Impression of the Object, and that she need not be under any Apprehensions of its being injur'd by it: But the Motion which accompanies Pain, being somewhat more violent, is capable of breaking some Fibre of the Body, and the Soul ought to be advis'd of it by some Disagreeable Sensation; so as to be aware of it for the future. Thus though the Motions, which are occasion'd in the Body, are no farther different in themselves than according to the Degrees of more or less; yet being consider'd with Relation to the Welfare and Preservation of our Life, they may be said to differ Essentially.

[Page]'Tis upon this account our Soul has no Perception of the Vibrations, which are excited by Objects, in the Fibres of our Flesh: It would be of very little use for her to know them; nor could she from thence receive sufficient Light to judge, whether the things about us were capable of Destroying or Maintaining the oeconomy of our Body. But she feels her self touch'd with Sensations essentially different, which shewing precisely the Qualities of Objects, as they are related to her Body, make her most exactly sensible in what capacity these Objects are in to hurt it.

We may farther consider, That in case the Soul had no Perception, but of that which happen'd in her Hand, when it were burnt, if she saw nothing there but the Motion and Separation of some Fibres, she would not much concern her self about it: Nay, she might probably sometimes out of an Humour or a Frolick, take some satisfaction in doing it, like those Freakish kind of Men, who divert themselves in their Passions or Debauches, in breaking all things they light upon.

Or as a Prisoner would not be much concern'd, to see the Walls batter'd down about him, that confin'd him, but rather would be glad of it, upon the hopes of a Deliverance: So if we had no other Perception than of the Separation of the Parts of our Body, when we were burnt or hurt in any manner, we should soon be perswaded that our Happiness was not confin'd to a Body which prevented our Injoying those things, which ought to make us Happy; and so should be glad of seeing it destroy'd.

Hence it is apparent that the Author of the Union of our Soul and Body, hath with greatest Wisdom ordain'd, That we should be sensible of Pain, whenever any Change happen'd to our Body, capable of incommoding it; as when a Needle pierced the Flesh, or the Fire separated some parts of it; and that we should be sensible of a Titillation, or an agreeable Heat, when these Motions were moderate, without perceiving the Truth of that which occur'd in our Body or the Motions of the Fibres, we have been speaking of.

First, because in the Sensation of Pleasure and Pain, which are things far more different than in Degree, we distinguish with greater Ease the Objects which occasion them. Secondly, because this way of Informing us, whether the Uniting our selves with the Bodies that encompass us, or the Separating from them be most convenient, is the shortest and the speediest, and takes up the capacity of the Mind the least; which is only made for GOD himself.

Lastly, because Pleasure and Pain are Modifications of our Soul, which she feels with Relation to her Body, and which more nearly affect her than would the Knowledge of the Motion of some Fibres belonging to it; this obliges her to be more sollicitous about them: And this is a Reason of the most strict Union betwixt the two Constituent Parts of Man. From all which it is manifest that the Senses are given us, for the Preservation of our Body only, and not for the Discovery of the Truth.

What hath been said concerning Titillation and Pain, ought universally to be understood of all other Sensations, as we shall see hereafter. I chose to begin with these two Sensations rather than others, because they are more Strong, and Lively, and Proper to make my Meaning more Sensibly conceiv'd.

It is at present a very easie thing to shew, That we fall into infinite Errors, concerning Light and Colours, and generally concerning all Sensible Qualities; as Cold, Heat, Smells, Tasts, Sound, Pain, and Titillation; and if I would stand to make a particular Enquiry into all those we fall into about all the Objects of our Senses, whole Years would not suffice to make a Deduction of them; because they are in a manner Infinite. It will be sufficient therefore to speak of them in general.

In almost all Sensations there are four different things which Men confound with one another, because they happen altogether, and as it were in the same Instant: And this is the Principle of all the Errors of our Senses.

The first is the Action of the Object, that is in Heat, for instance,VI. Four things which are generally confounded in every Sensation. the Impulsion or Motion of the little parts of the Wood against the Fibres of the Hand.

The Second is the Passion of the Organ of Sense, that is to say, the Agitation of the Fibres of the Hand caused by that of the little Parts of Fire, which Agitation is communicated to the Brain, because otherwise the Soul would have no Sensation of it.

The Third is the Passion, the Sensation or Perception of the Soul, that is, What every one Feels in himself when he is near the Fire.

The Fourth is the Judgment the Soul makes, that what she feels is both in her Hand, and in the Fire: Now this Judgment is Natural, or rather is only a Compound Sensation. But this Sensation or this Natural Judgement, is for the most part attended with another Free or Voluntary Judgement, which is so customary for the Soul to make, that she is almost incapable of preventing it. Here then are four things of a very different Nature, as may be seen, which Men are not nice enough to distinguish, but are apt to confound, because of the strict Union of the Soul and Body, which hinders them from making an exact distribution of the Properties of Matter, and of the Mind.

'Tis notwithstanding easie to discover, That of these four things, which occur within us, in the Sensation of an Object; the two first belong to the Body, and the two last appertain to the Soul only, provided a Man has any whit meditated on the Nature of the Soul and Body, as he ought to have done, as I before suppos'd him. But these things demand a particular Explication.

CHAP. XI.

[Page]

I. The Error we fall into concerning the Action of Objects against the External Fibres of our Senses. II. The Cause of this Error. III. An Objection and Answer.

IN this and the three succeeding Chapters, I shall treat of these four things above-mention'd, which I said us'd to be confounded, and taken for a simple Sensation: and I shall only give a general Explication of the Errors we fall into, because if I would descend to Particulars, there would never be an end of them: But I hope however to put the Mind of those, who will seriously consider what I am about to say, in a condition of discovering with a great deal of Ease, all the Errors our Senses can make us Subject to; But in order to this it is demanded, That they would attentively Meditate as well upon the following Chapters, as upon that they have last been Reading.I. Of the Error we fall into concerning the Action of Objects against the External Fibres of our Senses.

The first of the things we confound, in each of our Sensations, is the Action of Objects upon the External Fibres of our Body. It is certain a Man makes hardly any Difference betwixt the Sensation of the Soul, and that Action of Objects; which is so plain as not to need any farther Proof. The generality of Men imagine that the Heat, for instance, which they Feel, is in the Fire which causes it; that Light is in the Air, and Colours are upon colour'd Objects. They have no Thought of any Motions of Imperceptible Bodies which are the Cause of these Sensations.

It is true they do not judge that Pain is in the Needle which pricks them, in like manner as they judge that Heat is in the Fire: But the reason of it is, That the Needle and its Action are visible,III. The Cause of this Error. but the little parts of the Wood that proceed from the Fire, and their Motion against our Hands are altogether invisible. Thus, seeing nothing that strikes upon our Hands when we warm our selves, and yet feeling Heat in them, we Naturally judge this Heat to be in the Fire, for want of discovering any thing in it besides.

So that it is generally true, that we attribute our Sensations to the Objects themselves, when we are Ignorant of the Causes of these Sensations: And because Pain and Titillation are produc'd by Sensible Bodies, as by a Needle or a Feather, which we both see and touch, we for this Reason do not conclude, that there is any thing in these Objects like the Sensations which they cause in us.

III. An Objection and Answer.And yet I confess that we do not fail to judge Combustion is not in the Fire, but only in the Hand, though it proceed from the same cause, i. e. the Action of the little parts of the Wood, as well as Heat, which yet we attribute to the Fire. But the Reason of this is, That Combustion is a Species of Pain: For having often judg'd that Pain is not in the external Body which produces it, we are induc'd to form the same Judgement of Combustion.

That which is another Reason of our Judging in this manner, is, that Pain or Combustion, most strenuously applys our Soul to the consideration of the parts of her Body; and this Intension of the Soul turns off her thoughts from any other thing: Thus the Mind attributes the Sensation of Combustion to the Object that is most present and nigh her self. And because we find presently after, that the Combustion has left some visible marks in the part in which we felt the Pain, this is a Confirmation of the Judgement we have made, that Combustion is in the Hand. But this is no Impediment, why we should not embrace this general Rule, That we are accustom'd to attribute our Sensations to Objects, when-ever they act upon us by the Motion of some Invisible Parts. And upon this ground it is, that we usually believe Colours, Light, Smells, Tasts, Sounds, and some other Sensations, to be in the Air, or in the External Objects which produce them: for as much as all these Sensations are produc'd in us by the Motions of some Imperceptible Bodies.

CHAP. XII.

I. Of our Errors concerning the Motions of the Fibres of our Senses. II. That we have no Perception▪ of these Motions, or that we confound them with our Sensations. III. An Experiment that proves it. IV. Three kinds of Sensations. V. The Errors that accompanie them.

I. Of our Errors concerning the Motions or Vibrations of the Fibres of our Senses.THE second thing that occurs in every Sensation is the Vibration of the Fibres of our Nerves, which is communicated to the Brain: And we err in confounding always this Vibration with the Sensation of the Soul, and in judging there is no such Vibration at all, when we have no Perception of it through the Senses.

[Page]We confound, for instance, the Vibration excited by the Fire in the Fibres of our Hand,II. That we confound them with the Sensations of our Soul, and sometimes have no Perception of them. with the Sensation of Heat: And we say the Heat is in the Hand: But because we are insensible of any Vibration caus'd by Visible Objects in the Optick Nerve, which is in the Fund of the Eye, we think this Nerve is not vibrated at all, nor cover'd with the Colours that we see. On the contrary, we judge these Colours are spread only on the surface of the External Objects. Yet it is manifest by the following Experiment, that the Colours are as strongly and lively express'd on the Fund of the Optick Nerve as in visible Objects.

For, take but the Eye of an Ox just kill'd, and strip off the Coats that are opposite to the Pupill, and situate near the Optick Nerve, putting a piece of very transparent Paper in their room: This done, place the Eye in the hole of a Window, so as the Pupill may be towards the Air,III. An Experiment that proves it. and the hind-part of the Eye in the Chamber; which should be close▪ shut up and darken'd all over: And upon this the Colours of Objects that are out of the Chamber will appear to be spread upon the Fund of the Eye, but painted topsy-turvy. If it fortunes that the Colours are not lively enough, on the account of the too little distance of the Objects represented in the Fund of the Eye, the Eye must be lengthened by constringing the sides of it, or shortned if the Objects are too remote.

We see by this Experiment, that we ought to judge or perceive that Colours are in the Fund of the Eye; in like manner as we judge that Heat is in our Hands, if our Senses were given us for the Discovery of Truth, and if Reason conducted us in the Judgments we make upon the Objects of our Senses.

But in accounting for this inconsistent Variety of our Judgements about Sensible Qualities, it it must be consider'd, That the Soul is so intimately united to her Body, and moreover, has contracted so much Carnality since the Fall, that she attributes a great many things to the Body, which are only peculiar to her Self; and can hardly any longer distinguish her self from it. Insomuch that she does not only attribute to it all the Sensations we are at present speaking of, but also the Force of Imagination; and even sometimes the Power of Reasoning: For there have been a multitude of Philosophers, stupid and senseless enough to believe, the Soul was nothing else but the more refin'd and subtle part of the Body.

A Man that shall read Tertullian considerately, will be but too sensibly convinc'd of what I say: since he subscribes to this Opinion, after a great number of Authors whose Authority he alledges: This is so true, that he endeavours to prove in his Book, Concerning the Soul, that we are oblig'd by Faith, Scripture, and particular Revelations, to believe the Soul a Corporeal Being. I design not a Refutation of his Notions, because I have suppos'd a Man to have read some of St. Austin's or Mr. Des-Cartes's Works, which will sufficiently discover the Extravagance of these Thoughts, and confirm and corroborate the Mind in the Distinction of Extension and Thought, of the Soul and Body.

The Soul then is so blind, as not to know her self,IV. An Explication of three sorts of Sensations of the Soul. nor discern that her own Sensations do belong to her. But to explain this, it is necessary to distinguish in the Soul three kinds of Sensations, some Vigorous and Lively, others Faint and Languishing; and lastly, a Middle sort between these two.

The Vigorous and Lively Sensations, are such as surprize and quicken the Mind with a sort of Violence: as being either very grateful or disagreeable to it: Such as are Pain, or Titillation great Cold, or vehement Heat; and, in general, all such as are not only attended with Traces in the Brain, but moreover with some Motion of the Animal Spirits towards the Internal Parts of the Body; such a Motion as is proper to excite the Passions, as shall be explain'd in another place.

The faint and languishing Sensations are such as affect the Soul very little; and are neither very Pleasant, nor very Disagreeable to her; as moderate Light, all Colours, weak and ordidinary Sounds, &c.

Lastly, The Middle kind, betwixt the Vigorous and Faint, I call such sorts of Sensations, as moderately affect the Soul; as a great and glaring Light, a loud and mighty Sound, &c. But it is observable, that a Weak and Languid Sensation may become a Middle one, and proceed to be a Vigorous and Lively one. The Sensation, for instance, a Man has of Light is faint, when the Light of a Flambeau is but glimmering or remote; but this Sensation may become a Middle one upon the approaching of the Flambeau nearer us: It may, lastly, grow most strong and lively, by holding the Flambeau so close to the Eyes as to dazle them; or suppose a Man beholds the Sun: Thus the Sensation of Light may be Vigorous or Faint, or neither, but Moderate, according to its different Degrees.

Let us see then the Judgments the Soul passes upon these three sorts of Sensations:V. The Errors that accompany the Sensations. wherein we may observe that she almost ever blindly and implicitly follows the sensible Impressions, or the Natural Judgments of the Senses; and that she is delighted, if I may so term it, to diffuse her self upon the Objects she considers, by dismantling her own Being, to cloath and adorn External Objects.

The first of these Sensations are so Vigorous and Powerful, that the Soul must, whether she will or not, acknowledge they do, in some measure, belong to her: So that she not only judges them to be in the Objects, but believes them also to be in the Members of her Body, which she considers as a Part of her Self. Thus she judges that Heat and Cold are not only in the Fire and Ice, but in her own Hands also.

[Page]As to the Languid Sensations, they so little concern the Soul, that she concludes they do not belong to her; that they are neither in her self, nor in her Body, but in Objects only. And for this Reason it is we devest our own Soul, and our own Eyes, of Light and Colours to cloath and beautifie the Objects that are without us, though Reason teaches us that the Idea we have of Matter does not include them in it. And Experience visibly manifests, that we ought equally to judge them in our Eyes as on the Objects; since we see them no less upon the one than the other, as I have experimentally prov'd by the Eye of an Ox plac'd in the hole of a Window.

Now the Reason why Men do not so readily perceive Colours, Smells, Tasts, and all other Sensations, to be the Modifications of their Soul, is, because we have not any distinct Idea of the Soul. For when we know a thing by the Idea that represents it, we know clearly the Modifications it is capable of. All Men whatever agree that Rotundity, for instance, is a Modification of Extension; because all Men know what Extension is by a clear Idea that represents it. Thus, because we know not the Soul by its Idea, as I shall explain hereafter, but only by an Internal Sensation that we have of it, we can't understand by a simple View, but by the force of Reasoning only, whether Whiteness, Light, Colours, Sounds, and other faint and languishing Sensations are the Modifications of our Soul, or not. But as to the lively Sensations, as Pain and Pleasure, we easily judge that they are within us; because we feel them sensibly affect us; and there is no need of our knowing them by their Ideas, to understand that they belong to us.

As for the Middle Sensations, the Soul seems dubious and at a Fault about them. For on one hand she is willing to follow the Natural Judgments of the Senses, and thereupon she removes as far from her as possible this kind of Sensations, to bestow them upon the Objects: But, on the other hand, 'tis Impossible but she must feel within her self, and be conscious, that they belong to her; especially when these Sensations come up near to those, which I have named the Strong and Lively; whereupon let us see how she behaves her self in respect of the Judgments she makes concerning them: If she is smartly touch'd with the Sensation, she judges it to be in her own Body, as well as in the Object: If the Sensation affects her but a very little, she judges it only in the Object: If the Sensation be of a Middle sort, betwixt those we call the Strong, and the Weak, the Soul then knows not what to think of it, whilst she judges only by the Senses.

For instance, If a Man sees a Candle at a good competent distance, the Soul judges the Light to be only in the Object; if he puts it very near his Eyes, the Soul judges the Light to be not only in the Candle, but likewise in the Eyes; but if he withdraws about a foot from it, the Soul is at a pause without determining whether or not the Light be in the Object only. But she is never so wise as to think as she ought to do, that Light neither is, nor can be any Property or Modification of Matter; and that it is only within her self; because she never thinks of imploying her Reason in discovering the Truth of the Matter, but only her Senses, which never can discover it, nor indeed were given us for any other use than the Preservation of the Body

Now the cause why the Soul makes no more use of her Reason, that is, of her pure Intellection, in considering an Object which may be perceiv'd by the Senses, is this, that the Soul is not at all mov'd or concern'd on the account of those things she perceives by pure Intellection, but on the contrary, is most nearly touch'd by things Sensible: For the Soul applies her self intensely to that which affects her most; but is too careless to apply her self to things that work in her no Concernment. Thus she almost universally suites her Free Judgments to the Natural Judgment of her Senses.

To judge aright then of Light and Colours, as of all other sensible Qualities, we must carefully distinguish between the Sensation of Colour, and the Motion of the Optick Nerve; and we must find out by our Reason, that Motions and Impulsions, are Properties of Bodies, and therefore may possibly be found both in Objects, and in the Organs of our Senses, but that Light and Colours which we see, are Modifications of our Soul, very different from the other, and of which we have quite different Idea's.

For it is evident that a Peasant, for instance, sees Colours very well, and can distinguish them from all things else that are not Colour. It is evident too that he perceives nothing of Motion either in the colour'd Objects, or in the Fund of his Eyes; therefore Colour is not Motion: In like manner, a Peasant is very sensible of Heat, and he has knowledge clear enough to distinguish it from all thing else, which are not Heat. Yet he never so much as thinks of the Fibres of his Hand's being mov'd. Heat then which he feels is not Motion, since the Idea's of Heat and Motion are different, and one may be had without the other. For we have no other Reason to affirm a Square is not a Circle, but because the Idea of a Square is different from that of a Circle, and we can think of one without thinking of the other.

There needs but a little Attention to discover, that it is not necessary the cause which occasions a Sensation of such or such a Thing in us, should contain that thing in it self. For, as there is no necessity there should be Light in my Hand, when I see a flash, upon giving my Eye a blow; so there is no need that Heat should be in the Fire, to make me sensible of it, upon the approach of my Hand towards it; nor indeed that any other sensible Qualities, should be in the Objects that produce them. 'Tis enough that they cause a Vibration in the Fibres of my Flesh, to the end my Soul which is united to it, may be modify'd by some Sensation. There is no Analogy, I confess, between Motions and Sensations: Nor is there any betwixt Body and [Page] Spirit. But since Nature, or the Will of the Creator, associates these two Substances, though essentially different, we need not wonder if their Modifications are Reciprocal. It is necessary it should be so, that both of them might constitute but one entire Being.

It should be well observ'd, that our Senses being given us only for the Preservation of our Body, it is most conveniently order'd that they should induce us to judge of sensible Qualities just as we do. It is abundantly more for our advantage to receive the Sensation of Pain and Heat as being in our own Body, than to judge they were only in the Objects that occasion'd them: Because Pain and Heat being capable of injuring the Members of the Body, it is most requisite we should be warn'd of them whenever they attacqu'd us, to prevent our Body's being endammag'd by them.

But in point of Colours 'tis another case; for the generality, they are unable to hurt the Fund of the Eye, where they are collected, and it is an useless thing to us to know they are painted on it. These Colours are only necessary to us, as far as they are conducible to a more distinct Discovery of Objects; and upon that account our Senses induce us to attribute them to Objects only. Thus the Judgments which the Impression of our Senses incline us to make, are most exact, if consider'd only in Relation to the Preservation of our Body. But yet they are altogether Phantastical, and very remote from the Truth, as we have already seen in part, and shall be more abundantly manifest in that which follows.

CHAP. XIII.

I. Of the Nature of Sensations. II. That a Man knows them better than he thinks he does. III. An Objection and Answer. IV. Why a Man imagines he has no knowledge of his own Sensations. V. That 'tis an Error to think all Men have the same Sensations of the same Objects. VI. An Objection and Answer.

THE third thing which is found in each of our Sensations, or that which we Feel, for instance, when we are near the Fire, is a Modification of our Soul, I. The Definition of the Sensations. in Relation or Correspondence to that which occurs in the Body, to which she is united. This Modification is grateful or agreeable when that which occurs in the Body, is proper to promote the Circulation of the Blood and other Vital Functions: And this is nam'd in an Equivocal Term, Heat: But this Modification is painful, and quite different from the other, when that which occurs in the Body, is capable of incommoding or burning it; that is to say, when the Motions which are in the Body are capable of breaking some of it Fibres, and this generally goes by the Name of Pain or Combustion; and so 'tis with the other Sensations: But now let us see what are the Thoughts Men usually have upon this Subject.

The first Error is this,II. That a Man knows his own Sensations better than he thinks he does. that a Man unreasonably imagines he has no Knowledge of his Sensations. We daily find a great number of such Men as are much concern'd, and very sollicitous to know what Pain and Pleasure, and the other Sensations are: Neither will they grant that they are only in the Soul, and the Modifications of it: I confess these are a strange sort of Men, who would needs be taught what they cannot be ignorant of: For 'tis impossible a Man should be absolutely ignorant what Pain is, when he is under the sense of it.

A Man, for example, that burns his Hand, does very well distinguish the Pain he feels from Light, Colour, Sounds, Tasts, Smells, Pleasure, and from every other Pain besides that he feels. He distinguishes it very well from Admiration, Desire, and Love. He distinguishes it from a Square, a Circle, and a Motion; in a word, he finds 'tis very different from every thing which is not the Pain he feels. Now if he has no Knowledge of Pain, I would fain be satisfy'd, how he can tell with any certainty of evidence, that what he feels is none of all these things.

We know then in some measure what we are immediately sensible of; as when we see Colours or have any other Sensation: And if it were not for this Knowledge, it is certain we could know nothing of any sensible Object. For 'tis manifest, for example, that we would be unable to distinguish Wine from Water, did we not know that the Sensations we have of the one were different from those we have of the other; and so 'tis with all other things which we know by our Senses.

'Tis true, should a Man be importunate in desiring me to explain what is Pain, Pleasure, Colour, or the like, I should not be able to define it in words as it ought to be. But it does not follow from thence, that if I see a Colour, or burn my self, I have no manner of Knowledge of that whereof I have an Actual Sensation.

Now the reason why our Sensations cannot be explain'd by words, as well as all other things, is, because it depends on the Arbitrary Will of Men,III. An Objection and Answer. to joyn the Idea's of things to what Names they please. They may call the Heavens Ouranos, Shamájim, as the Greeks and Hebrews: But the same Men have not an equal Liberty of affixing their Sensations to words, nor indeed to any thing else. They see no Colours, unless they open their Eyes, discourse to them what you will about them. They have no Relish of Tasts, unless some change happens in the disposition [Page] of the Fibres of their Tongue and Brain: In short, the Sensations have no manner of Dependence upon the Will of Men: And 'tis only he that created Men, that still preserves them in that mutual correspondence of the Modifications of their Soul to those of their Body. So that if a Man would have me represent to him Heat, or Colour, I cannot make use of words to do it: But I must impress in the Organs of his Senses, such Motions as Nature has affixt these Sensations to. I must bring him to the Fire, and shew him a piece of Painting.

And this is the reason why 'tis impossible to give Men that are born Blind the least Knowledge of that which we understand by Red, Green, Yellow, or the like. For since 'tis impossible for a Man to make another understand him, when he that hears, has not the same Idea's as he that speaks; it is manifest that since Colours are neither conjoyn'd to the sound of words, nor to the Motion of the Auditory, but to that of the Optick Nerve, we can never represent them to Men that are Blind, since their Optick Nerve cannot be Vibrated by colour'd Objects.

We have therefore some sort of Knowledge of our Sensations. Let us now see how it comes to pass that we are still casting about to know them, and that we believe our selves destitute of any Knowledge of them. The reason of it undoubtedly is this.

IV. From whence it proceeds that a Man imagines he has no knowledge of his Sensations.The Soul, since the Original Sin, is now, as it were, Corporeal in her Inclination; the Love she has for sensible Objects, is perpetually lessening the Union or the Relation she has with those that are intellectual. She is disgusted and uneasy in conceiving things that will not enter by the Senses, and is presently for leaving the Consideration of them. She imploys her utmost endeavour to produce the Images that represent them in her Brain, and she is so throughly inur'd to this kind of Conception from our Infancy, that she thinks that she can have no Knowledge of what she can have no Imagination. Notwithstanding there are a great many things, which, being not Corporeal, cannot be represented to the Mind by Corporeal Images; as, to instance, our Soul with all her Modifications. At what time therefore our Soul would represent to her self her▪ own Nature, and her own Sensations, she endeavours to form a Corporeal Image thereof. She is in search of her self amongst all Corporeal Beings. One while she takes her self for one Thing, and another while for Another; sometimes for Air, sometimes for Fire, or for the Harmony of the parts of her own Body. And being thus desirous of finding her self among the mass of Bodies, and of imagining her own Modifications, which are her Sensations, as the Modifications of Bodies, we need not wonder if she's bewildred in her wandrings, and is misguided out of the Knowledge of her self.

That which induces the Soul to be still more fond of Imagining her Sensations, is her judging them to be in the Objects:See the Illustrations upon the▪ 7. Ch. of the 2d. Part of the 3d. Book. And moreover, that they are the Modifications of them; and consequently that they are something Corporeal, and fit to be Imagin'd. She judges then that the Nature of her Sensations consists only in the motion which produces them, or in some other Modification of a Body, which is manifestly different from what she feels; this being nothing Corporeal, nor possible to be represented by Corporeal Images: This is what confounds her, and makes her believe she is altogether ignorant of her own Sensations.

As for those who make none of these fruitless Attempts, to represent the Soul and its Modifications by Corporeal Images, and yet are desirous of having their Sensations explain'd to them; they must understand that neither the Soul nor its Modifications can be known by Idea's, taking the word Idea in its most proper signification, as I have determin'd and explain'd it, in the third Book; but only by Conscience or Internal Sensation. So that when they ask us to explain the Soul and her Modifications by any Idea's, they demand what is impossible for all the Men in the World put together to give them: Because Men cannot instruct us by giving us Idea's of things, but only by making us attentive to those we have already.

The second Error whereinto we fall about our Sensations, is the attributing them to Objects; which has been explain'd in the XI and XII Chapters.

V. That 'tis an Error to think all Men have the same Sensations of the same Objects.The third is our judging that all Mankind have the same Sensations of the same Objects. We believe, for example, that all the World sees the Sky Azure, the Meadows Green, and all visible Objects in the same manner as we see them; and so likewise all the other sensible Qualities of the other Senses. There are many who will wonder even that we call in question those things, which they believe indubitable. However, I can certify them they have not any Reason to judge of these things as they do. And though I cannot Mathematically demonstrate they are in an Error, I can nevertheless demonstrate, 'tis the greatest chance in the World, if they are not: And I have Arguments strong enough to convince them they are certainly deceiv'd.

That the Truth of what I here advance may be here acknowledg'd, we must call to mind what has been already prov'd; namely, That there is a vast difference betwixt our Sensations and the causes of our Sensations. We may conclude from thence, that absolutely ▪ speaking, it is possible for similar Motions of the Internal Fibres of the Optick Nerves, to produce in different Persons, different Sensations, that is to cause them to see different Colours: And it may so fall out, that a Motion which shall produce in one Person the Sensation of Blew, shall cause the Sensation of Green or Gray in another, or perhaps a new Sensation, which never any man had besides.

It is certain, I say, that this is possible, and there is no reason in the World that can prove the contrary: However, we will grant that it is not probable it should be so. It is much more reasonable to believe that GOD acts always uniformly in the Union he has establish'd betwixt our Souls and our Bodies; and that he has affixt the same Idea's and the same Sensation to similar Motions of the Internal Fibres of the Brain of different Persons.

[Page]Let it be granted then that the same Motions of the Fibres which terminate in the middle of the Brain, are accompany'd with the same Sensations in all Men; if it fortunes that the same Objects produce not the same Motions in their Brain, they will not, by consequence excite the same Sensations in their Soul: Now to me it seems indisputable, that the Organs of the Senses of all Men, being not dispos'd in the same manner, cannot receive the same Impressions from the same Objects.

The blows, for instance, that Porters give one another by way of Complement, would cripple some sort of People: The same blow produces very different motions, and consequently excites very different Sensations, in a Man of a Robust Constitution, and in a Child or a Woman of a tender make: Thus, since we cannot be ascertain'd that there are two Persons in the World, who have the Organs of their Senses exactly match'd; we cannot be assur'd there are two Persons in the World who have altogether the same Sensations of the same Objects.

This is the Original cause of the strange Variety which is found in the Inclinations of Men. Some there are who are extremely pleas'd with Musick, others find nothing agreeable in it: And even between these who delight in it, some one sort of Musick, some another, according to that almost Infinite Diversity which is found in the Fibres of the Auditory Nerve, in the Blood, and the Animal Spirits. How great, for instance, is the difference between the Musick of Italy, of France, of the Chinese, and other People; and consequently between the Relish these different People have of these different sorts of Musick? It is usual likewise for the same Men at several times to receive different Impressions from the same Consorts. For if the Imagination be well warm'd by a great plenty of brisk and active Spirits, a Man is much more pleas'd with a bolder Hand or a Voluntarie, wherein there are many Discords; than with a softer Musick, that is compos'd with exacter Rules and a Mathematical Niceness. Experience proves this, and 'tis easie to give a Reason for it.

'Tis just the same with Smells. He that loves an Orange-flower, possibly cannot endure a Rose; and so on the contrary.

As for Tasts, there is no less a Diversity in them than in the other Sensations. Sawces must be made wholly different, equally to please different Men, or equally to please the same Person at different times: One loves Sweet, another Sowre; One loves the Taste of Wine, another abhors it; the same Person who thinks it pleasant when he's in Health, finds it bitter in a Fever; and so 'tis with the other Senses. And yet all Men are fond of Pleasure; they all delight in agreeable Sensations: And in this have all the same Inclinations. They receive not therefore the same Sensations from the same Objects, since they do not love them equally alike.

Thus, that which makes one Man say, he likes sweet things, is the agreeable Sensation he has of them; and that which makes another say, he does not love sweet things, is, indeed, because he has a different Sensation from him that loves them. And so in saying he loves not sweet things, it is not imply'd that he would not have the same Sensation as the other; but only that he has it not. Wherefore 'tis an Impropriety of Speech for a Man to say, he loves not what is Sweet; he should say, he loves not Sugar, or Honey, or the like, which, to others, seem sweet and agreeable; and that he has not the same Taste as others, because the Fibres of his Tongue are differently dispos'd.

But to give a sensible Instance; Let us suppose that among twenty Men there were some one of them whose Hands were Cold, and that he was unacquainted with the words they make use of in England to explain the Sensation of Heat and Cold by; and on the contrary, that the Hands of all the rest were extreamly Hot. If in Winter some Water somewhat frigid should be brought them all to wash in, those whose Hands were very Hot, washing after each other, might very well say, This Water is very Cold, I can't endure it: But when the other, whose Hands were extreamly Cold, came to wash at last, he might say on the contrary, I can't imagine, Gentlemen, why ye like not the Cold Water; for my part, I take pleasure in feeling it Cold and washing in it.

It is manifest in this particular instance, That the last, in saying he lov'd the Cold, could mean nothing else but that he lov'd the Heat, and that he felt the Water Hot, whilst others felt the contrary.

Thus when a Man says, I love what is bitter, and can't endure sweets; no more is meant thereby, than that he has not the same Sensations, as those who say they love sweets, and have an aversion to what is bitter.

It is certain therefore, that a Sensation which is agreeable to one Man, is so to all others who have the same; but the same Objects does not cause the same Sensation in all Men; because of the different disposition of the Organs of the Senses; which is a thing of greatest consequence to be observ'd both as to Natural and Moral Philosophy.

To this only one Objection can be made, and that very easie to be answer'd; which is this: It sometimes happens that those very Persons, who love extreamly some sorts of Meat,IV. An Objection and Answer▪ at length shall hate them in as great a degree, either because in eating they met with some uncleanliness in the Dish, which surpriz'd and disgusted them; or because they surfeited on them by eating to excess, or for several other reasons: These Men ('tis objected) love not the same Sensations as they lov'd before: For still, though they eat the same Meats, yet they find them no longer pleasant and palatable.

[Page]In answering this Objection, it must be observ'd, that these Men upon eating those Meats, to which they have so great an abhorrence and loathing, have two very different Sensations at the same time. They have that of the Meat which they eat, as 'tis suppos'd in the Objection: And they have yet another Sensation of Distaste or Loathing, which proceeds, for instance, from a strong imagination of some uncleanliness they have formerly seen mingled with what they eat. The reason of this is, that when two Motions are occasion'd in the Brain at the same time; one of them is never excited without the other, unless it be some considerable time after. Thus because the Agreeable is always accompany'd with the Loathsome Sensation; and we usually confound things which happen at the same time, we imagine with our selves, that this Sensation which was formerly pleasant and agreeable is no longer so. And yet if it were always the same, it must necessarily be always agreeable: Wherefore supposing it to be disagreeable and unpleasant, 'tis because it is joyn'd and confounded with another Sensation, which is more distastful than it is it self agreeable.

There is much more difficulty to prove that Colours, and such other Sensations, which I term'd the Faint and Languid, are not the same in all Mankind. Because all these Sensations affect the Soul so weakly, that a Man cannot distinguish as he may in Tasts or other more powerful and lively Sensations, whether one is more agreeable than another; nor discover the diversity of Mens Sensations by the variety of Pleasure or Distast, which might be found in different Persons. Yet Reason which shews that the other Sensations are not all alike in different Persons, does likewise shew there must necessarily be variety in the Sensations we have of Colours. And, indeed, it cannot be doubted but there is much diversity in the Organs of Sight of different Persons, as well as in those of Hearing and Tasting. For, what reason is there to suppose an exact conformity and resemblance in the disposition of the Optick Nerve of all Men, since there is such an infinite variety in all the things of Nature, but especially in those that are Material. There is then great probability that all Men do not see the same Colours in the same Objects.

This Pagra [...]h is wanting in some Editions, and is obscure in the French and therefore has receiv'd some alteration, that it might be perspicuousNevertheless I am of Opinion that it never happens, at least very rarely, that any Persons see Black and White of a different Colour from what our selves see them, though they do not see them equally Black or White. But as to middle Colours, such as Red, Yellow, Blue, and especially those that are compounded of these three, I am persuaded there are very few Men that have exactly the same Sensations. For there are Men sometimes to be met with, who see some sort of Bodies of a yellow Colour, for instance, when they view them with one Eye, and of a Green or Blue when they behold them with the other. And yet supposing these Men to be born with one Eye only, or with two Eyes so dispos'd as to see that of a Red or Yellow Colour, which others call Green or Blue, they would believe they saw Objects of the same Colours as others do, because they would always have heard the Name Green given to that which they see Yellow, and Blue to that which to them seems Red.

It might, as a farther proof, be alledg'd, that all Men see not the same Objects of the same Colour, because, according to the Observations of some Men, the same Colours are not equally pleasing to all sorts of People; since on supposition these Sensations were the same, they would be equally agreeable to all Mankind: But because very strong Objections might be urg'd against this Argument founded on the Answer I gave to the former Objection, I thought it not solid enough to be propos'd.

Indeed is is very rarely found that a Man is much more pleas'd with one Colour than another, as he takes greater pleasure in one Taste than another. The reason of it is, That the Sensations of Colours, are not given us to judge whether the Bodies about us are fit to nourish us or not: This is the part of Pleasure and Pain, to shew which are the Natural Characters of Good and Evil. Objects in point of Colours, are neither good nor bad to eat: If Objects, on account of their Colour, should either seem agreeable or disagreeable, the Sight of them would constantly be succeeded with the course of the Animal Spirits, which excite and accompany the Passions; since the Soul cannot be affected without some Commotion. We should often hate good Things, and be fond of the bad; so that our Life could not be long preserv'd. In short, the Sensations of Colour are given us meerly to distinguish Bodies from one another; and this is effected well enough, whether a Man sees Grass green or red, provided the Person who sees it green or red, sees it always in the same manner.

But so much for our Sensations: Let us now say something of our Natural Judgments, and our Voluntary Judgments that attend them. The fourth thing to be consider'd which we confound with the three others, whereof we have been speaking.

CHAP. XIV.

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I. Of the False Judgments that accompany our Sensations, and which we confound with them. II. The Reasons of these False Judgements. III. That Error is not in our Sensations, but only in these Judgments.

WE instantly fore-see,I. Of the false Judgments that accompany our Sensations, and which we confound with them. that there are very few Persons who will not be offended at this general Proposition we lay down, namely, That we have not any Sensation of External things, but contains one or more Judgments. We know well enough too that the generality of Men are of opinion that there is not any Judgment True or False in our Sensations: Insomuch that these Persons, surpriz'd with the Novelty of this Proposition, will undoubtedly say with themselves; How is this possible? I do not judge the Wall to be white, I see well enough it is so. I do not judge that Pain is in my Hand, I feel it most infalliby there. And who can doubt of things so certain, unless he has a different Sensation of Objects from what I have my self? In fine, their Inclinations for the Prejudices of Childhood will carry them much farther. And if they proceed not to Contumely, and to the Contempt of those whom they believe of a contrary Sentiment to themselves, they will doubtless deserve to be reckon'd amongst the moderate sort of People.

But 'tis not our business to stand prophesying any longer what ill Reception and Success our Thoughts shall meet with; 'tis much more expedient to draw them out with such convincing Arguments, and to set them in so clear a Light, as to leave it impossible for a Man to engage them with his Eyes open, or to consider them attentively, without submitting to them. We are to prove that we have no Sensation of External things, which does not include some false Judgment or other. And the Proof is as follows.

To me it seems past Controversie, that our Souls take not up such vast spaces as are those we see betwixt us and the fix'd Stars, though it should be allow'd that they are extended. Thus it is unreasonable to believe our Souls are in the Heavens, when they see the Stars there: Nor is it more credible that they depart out of their Bodies a mile, suppose, when they see the Houses at that distance: The Soul then must necessarily see Stars and Houses where they are not, since she goes not out of the Body wherein she is, and nevertheless sees them out of it. Now whereas the Stars which are immediately united to the Soul, and which are the only Stars the Soul can see, are not in the Heavens, it follows that all Men who see the Stars in the Heavens, and thereupon voluntarily judge that they are there, make two false Judgments; the one Natural, and the other Free and Voluntary. The one is a Judgment of the Senses, or a Compound Sensation, which ought not to be a measure for us to judge by. The other is a Free Judgment of the Will, which a Man may avoid making, and consequently must not make, if he would avoid falling into Error.

But let us see upon what grounds a Man believes those same Stars he immediately sees,II. The Reason of these false Judgments▪ to be out of the Soul, and in the Heavens: The reason is this, That it is not in the power of the Soul to see them when she pleases: For she can perceive them only at such times as those Motions are excited in her Brain, to which the Idea's of these Objects are affix'd by Nature. Now because the Soul has no Perception of the Motions of her Organs, but only of her own Sensations, and is confident these same Sensations are not of her own producing in her; she is induc'd to judge they are without her, and in the Cause that represents them to her. And she has so often made these kinds of Judgments, at the time of her perceiving Objects, that 'tis hardly in her power at last to prevent them.

In order to explain more throughly what I have been saying, it would be necessary to shew the unusefulness of those infinite numbers of little Beings, which we call Species and Idea's, which are, as it were, Nothing, and yet represent all things; which we Create and Annihilate at our pleasure, and which our Ignorance has caus'd our Imagination to invent, that we might account for those things which we do not understand. We should shew too the solidity of those Mens Opinion, who believe GOD to be the True Father of Light, who alone enlightens all Men, without whom, the most simple and easie Truths would not be intelligible, nor the Sun, as bright and glorious as he is, be visible; who acknowledge no other Nature, than the Will of the Creator; and who, upon these Considerations, have discover'd that Idea's which represent the Creatures to us are nothing but the Perfections of GOD himself, which are correspondent to the same Creatures, and which represent them.

Lastly, It would be necessary to treat of the Nature of what we call Idea's; and afterwards we might with greater ease, discourse more distinctly of the things I have been speaking of: But this would lead us too far; and these things shall be reserv'd for the Third Book only, because our method will require them there. At present let it suffice, that I bring a most sensible and uncontroverted Instance; wherein we find many Judgments confounded with one and the same Sensation.

I suppose there is no Man in the World, who, looking on the Moon, does not see her about a mile's distance from him, and finds her greater at her Rising and Setting, than in the Meridian, [Page] or when a good way Elevated above the Horizon: And perhaps too he fancies he only sees her larger, without thinking there is any Judgment in his Sensation. However, it is undoubtedly certain, that if he had no kind of Judgment included in his Sensation, he would not see her at that distance she appears to him; and besides, would see her lesser at her Rising, than when in her Exaltation above the Horizon; since we only see her greater at her Rising, because we judge her more remote by a Natural Judgment which I have spoke to in the sixth Chapter.

But besides our Natural Judgments, which may be regarded as Compound Sensations, there occurs in almost all our Sensations a Free or Voluntary Judgment. For Men do not only judge by a Natural Judgment, that Pain, for instance, is in the Hand, they judge it is by a Free and Voluntary Judgment also, They not only Feel it there, but Believe it there too; and they are so strongly habituated to form such sort of Judgments, that they find great difficulty to forbear them when they would.

And yet these Judgments are most false in themselves, though very advantageous to the Welfare and Preservation of Life. For our Senses do not instruct us but with reference to the Body: And all our Free Judgments which are conformable and adapted to the Judgment of the Senses, are very remote from Truth.

But not to leave these things without shewing how to discover the Reasons of them; we must take notice that there are two sorts of Beings: Beings which our Soul immediately sees, and others which she knows only by the Mediation of the former. When, for instance, I perceive the Sun arising, I first perceive that which I immediately see; and because my Perception of the former, is only occasion'd by something without me, which produces certain Motions in my Eyes and in my Brain, I judge the former Sun which is in my Soul, to be without me, and to Exist.

It may notwithstanding happen that we may see the first Sun which is intimately united to our Soul, though the other were not above the Horizon, or though it did not Exist at all. And thus we may see the first Sun greater when the other rises, than when elevated high above the Horizon; and though it be true that the first Sun, which we see immediately, be greater at the other's Rising, it doth not follow that the other is so too. For 'tis not properly that which Rises which we see, since that is many Millions of Leagues remote; but 'tis the former, which is truly greater, and such exactly as we see it; because all the things we immediately see, are always such as we see them: And we should not be Deceiv'd, did we not judge that what we immediately see is to be found in External Objects, which are the cause or occasion of what we see.

In like manner, when we see Light by beholding the First Sun, which is immediately united to our Mind, we are not mistaken in believing that we see it: 'Tis even impossible to doubt of it. But herein consists our Error, that without any Reason, and indeed against all Reason, we will have this Light, which we see immediately, to exist in the Sun, which is without us; and thus it is with the other Objects of our Senses.

Upon a due Attention to what has been said from the Beginning, and in the Process of this Work,III. That Error is not in our Sensations, but only in these Judgments. it will be easie to see, that amongst all the things which occur in every Sensation, Error is only to be found in the Judgments we make, that our Sensations exist in the Objects.

First: 'Tis an Error not to know that the Action of Objects consists in the Motion of some of their Parts, and that That motion is communicated to the Organs of our Senses, which are the two first things observable in every Sensation: For there is a great deal of difference between not knowing a Thing, and being in an Error in respect of that thing.

Secondly, We are right as to the third thing, which is properly Sensation. When we Feel Heat, when we see Light, Colours, or other Objects, it is certainly true that we see them, though we are Mad or Phrentick, for there is nothing more infallibly true, than that your Visionary People see what they think they see; and their Error consists only in the Judgments which they make, that what they see has a real Existence without them, because they see it without them.

This is the Judgment that implies a Consent of our Liberty, and which consequently is liable to Error. And it is our Duty ever to refrain from making it according to the Rule which was given in the beginning of this Book: That we should never judge of any thing whatever, when we could avoid it, and were not oblig'd to't by the certainty and evidence thereof; as it happens in this place: For though we feel our selves extreamly dispos'd by a confirm'd and inveterate Habit to judge our Sensations are in the Objects, as that Heat is in the Fire, and Colours in the Pictures; yet we can see no evident and convincing Reason, or forcible enough to oblige us to believe it. And thus we voluntarily subject our selves to Error by the ill use we make of our Liberty, when we freely form such Judgments as these.

CHAP. XV.

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An Explication of the Particular Errors of the Sight, which may serve as an Exemplar of the general Errors of our Senses.

I Have, if I am not mistaken, given a sufficient inlet to the Discovery of the Errors of our Senses in respect of sensible Qualities in general, of which I have spoken, on the account of Light and Colours, which our Method oblig'd us to explain. It may now be expected I should descend to Particulars, and examine the respective Errors into which each of our Senses casts us: But I shall not insist long upon these things, because after what I have already said, a little Attention will do the business of those tedious Discourses I should be oblig'd to make. I shall only recount the general Errors our Sight occasions us to fall into, touching Light and Colours; and this Example will, I believe, suffice to give us an insight into the Errors of all our other Senses.

When we have fixt our Eyes upon the Sun for some moments, this is what occurs both in our Eyes and in our Soul, and these are the Errors into which we fall.

Those who are acquainted with the First Elements of Dioptricks, and with any thing of the admirable Contexture of the Eyes, know that the Rays of the Sun are refracted in the Crystalline, and in the other Humours; and that they are thence recollected upon the Retina or the Optick Nerve, which cloathes all the Fund of the Eye; in the same manner as the Rays of the Sun passing through a convex burning Glass, reunite in the Focus, or in the burning point of the Glass at three or four Inches distance from it, in proportion to its convexity. Now we are taught by Experiment, that if we place in the Focus of the Glass a piece of stuff or brown Paper,Brown Paper presently takes fire; but the Glass must be larger or more convex, to burn white Paper. the Rays of the Sun make so great an Impression on the stuff or on the Paper, and agitate the little parts thereof so violently, as to break and separate them from one another; or, in a word, to burn them, and reduce them into smoak and ashes.

So we ought to conclude from this Experiment, that if the Optick Nerve were black, and the Pupil or the Aperture of the Vvea, through which the Light enters into the Eyes should widen and enlarge it self, to take in freely the solary Rays, instead of which it contracts and straitens it self to prevent their passage, the same thing would happen to the Retina, as to the stuff or the black or brown Paper, and its Fibres would be so violently agitated as to be speedily broken, and burn'd in pieces. And for this reason it is, that the generality of Men feel great Pain in beholding the Sun for a moment; because they cannot so closely shut the Aperture of the Pupil, but there will still pass Rays enough to agitate the Fibres of the Optick Nerve so violently, as to give us Reason to apprehend their breaking.

The Soul is altogether ignorant of all this we have said; and when she beholds the Sun, she neither has any Perception of her own Optick Nerve, nor of any Motion in the Nerve: But this cannot be call'd an Error, 'tis purely Ignorance: The first Error she falls into, is her judging the Pain she feels, to be in the Eye.

If instantly upon a Man's beholding the Sun, he withdraws into a dark place with his Eyes open, that Concussion of the Fibres of the Optick Nerve, caus'd by the Rays of the Sun, decreases and wears off by little and little; and this is all the alteration we can conceive in the Eyes. But the Soul perceives nothing of this in them, but only a whitish or a yellowish Light; and the second Error is, her judging this Light which she sees, to be in her Eyes, or in the Neighbouring Wall.

Finally, The Agitation of the Fibres of the Retina constantly decreases and dwindles away by degrees: For after a Body has been vibrated or shaken, we should consider nothing in it more than the Diminution of its Motion. But this is not the thing the Soul is sensible of in her Eyes. She sees the whitish Colour metamorphos'd into Orange, after chang'd into Red, and lastly into Blue. And the third Error into which we fall, is our judging there are in our Eye, or on the next Wall, such alterations as differ more than Secundum magis & minús; because the Colours Blue, Orange, and Red, which we see have a more considerable difference than according to degrees of more or less.

These are some of the Errors into which we fall in point of Light and Colours; and these are the occasion of our falling into many others, as we are going to explain in the following Chapters.

CHAP. XVI.

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I. That the Errors of our Senses serve us instead of general and very fruitful Principles, from whence to draw false Conclusions; and these Conclusions again become other Principles in their turn. II. The Origine of Essential Differences. III. Concerning Substantial Forms. IV. Of some other Errors of the School-Philosophy.

I. That the Errors of our Senses serve us instead of general and very fruitful Principles, from whence to draw false Conclusions, and these Conclusions again become other Principles in in their turn.I HAVE, I think, given a sufficient Explication (to unprejudic'd Persons, and such as are capable of Thinking any thing Attentively) of the Nature of our Sensations, and of the general Errors that accompany them: It is not amiss to shew at present that these general Errors are made use of, as uncontroverted Principles, to explain all things by: That infinite false Consequences have been drawn from them, which in their Turn have serv'd as Principles for a train of other Consequences: and thus by little and little those imaginary Sciences void of Body and Reality, have been establisht, which have such multitudes of blind Followers; but which like Fantoms leave nothing in their Embraces, but the Shame and Confusion of suffering themselves to be seduc'd, or that Brand and Character of Folly, which makes Men delight to feed on Delusions and Chimera's. This is what we must shew in particular by some Examples.

It has been already said, that we are us'd to attribute to Objects our own Sensations, and we judge that Colours, Smells, Tasts, and other sensible Qualities, are in the Objects which we call Colour'd, and so of the rest. We have found this to be an Error. At present 'tis our Business to shew, that we make use of this Error by way of Principle, to deduce false Consequences from: which last Consequences afterwards we respect as other Principles, upon which we go on to found our Reasonings. In a word, we shall here manifest what Progress and Advances an Humane Mind makes in the Search of some Particular Truths, when once this false Principle has been taken for granted, That Our Sensations are in Objects.

But in order to render this more sensibly manifest, let us suppose some Particular Body, whose Nature some Person is in Search of: Let us see what a Man would do, who has a mind to know what Honey or Salt is. The first thing this Man would do, would be to examine the Colour, the Taste, and Smell, and the other sensible Qualities of them: What are the Properties of Salt, and what of Honey: Wherein they agree, and wherein they differ; and the Analogy there may be betwixt these, and those of other Bodies. Which done, he would doubtless reason and infer much after this manner, supposing he laid this down as an uncontroverted Principle, That our Sensations were in the Objects of our Senses.

II. The Original of the Differences attributed to Objects: That these Differences are in the Soul.Whatever I have a Sensation of in Tasting, Seeing, and in Handling Salt and Honey, is in the Salt and in the Honey. But it is certain that what I sensibly perceive in the Honey essentially differs from what I sensibly perceive in the Salt: The whiteness of the Salt differs more doubtless than according to the degrees of more or less, from the Colour of the Honey; and the Sweetness of the Honey from the pungent Taste of the Salt; and consequently there must be an essential difference betwixt Salt and Honey, since all that I am sensible of both in the One and the Other, not only differs according to more or less, but has an essential Difference.

This is the first step this Gentleman would make. For doubtless he could not judge there was an essential Difference between Salt and Honey, did he not think the Sensible appearances of the One essentially differ'd from those of the Other: that is to say, That the Sensations he has of Honey essentially differr'd from those he has of Salt; for as much as he only judges of them by the Impression they make upon the Senses. Hence he looks upon this his Conclusion as a new Principle from whence he deduces other Conclusions in like manner.

III. The Original of Substantial Forms.Seeing then Salt and Honey, and other Natural Bodies differ essentially from one another, it follows, that those are grosly deceiv'd, who would have us believe, That all the difference which is found in Bodies, consists only in the different Configuration of the little parts, that go to their Constitution. For since Figure is not essential to a figured Body, let the Figure of these little parts, which they imagine in the Honey, change how they will, the Honey will still continue Honey, even though the parts of it should take the Figure of the little parts of Salt. And thus there must of necessity be some substance or other, which being joyn'd to the first Matter, that is common to all different Bodies, must cause an essential difference betwixt them.

This then is the second Advance this Gentleman would make, and the happy Discovery of Substantial Forms: Those fruitful substances which cause every thing we see in Nature, though they have no subsistence of themselves, except in the Imagination of our Philosopher. But let us see the Properties which he goes so liberally to bestow on this Being of his own Creation; for doubtless he will rob all other Substances of their most essential Properties, to cloath this Creature of his withall.

[Page]Since then there is found in every Natural Body, two Substances which go to its Composition;IV. The Origine of all the other more general Errors of the School-Philosophy. the one which is common to Honey and Salt, and all other Bodies; and the other which makes Honey to be Honey, and Salt to be Salt, and all other Bodies to be what they are; it follows that the first of them which is Matter, having no Contrary, and being indifferent to the Reception of all Forms, must remain without Force and Action, since it has no occasion to defend it self: But as to the others, which are the Substantial Forms, they have need always of being attended with Qualities and Faculties, for their own defence. They must necessarily be always upon their guard, for fear of being surpriz'd: They must be labouring continually for their Preservation, and extending their Dominion over the bordering Matters, and pushing their Conquests as far as possibly they can; because if they were forceless, or should desist from their Activity, the other Forms would fall upon them by surprize, and forthwith reduce them to Nothing. They must then be always fighting, and nourishing these Antipathies and irreconcilable Hatreds against their Rival Forms, which are continually seeking to destroy them.

Let it happen that a Form should seize the Matter of another: Let the Form of a Carcass, for instance, seize the Body of a Dog; it is not enough for this Form to rest satisfy'd in the Annihilation of the Form of the Dog, she must gratifie her Hatred and Revenge with the Destruction of all the Qualities which have sided with her Enemy. The Hair of the Carcass must immediately turn white with the whiteness of a new Creation; the Blood must be red with the redness, which was never dreamt of; and the whole Body must be surrounded with Qualities faithful to their Mistress, whom they must defend according to the small strength and capacity, which may be supposed in the Qualities of a dead Body, which in their turn must quickly perish too. But because it is impossible to be always in Battel, and all Bodies have a place of Rest; the Fire, for instance, must undoubtedly have its Centre, where it ever strives to go by its own Levity, and Natural Inclination, in order to Rest, to burn no longer, and also to resign its Heat, which it preserv'd here below, meerly for its own safety and defence.

These are a small part of the Consequences which are deduced from this last Principle, that there are Substantial Forms; which Consequences we have brought in Our Philosopher, somewhat too frankly and airily concluding; for generally others say the same things, in a more serious strain than he hath done here.

There are still infinite other Consequences, which Philosophers daily infer according as their Humour and Inclination leads them, or according as they are determin'd by the Fruitfulness or Barrenness of their Imagination; for this is all the Difference that is between them.

I shall not stand here to ingage these Imaginary Substances, others have sufficiently examin'd them. They have made it evidently appear, that there were never Substantial Forms in Nature; and that they serve for no other use, than to infer abundance of False, Ridiculous, and even Contradictory Conclusions. I am satisfy'd to have discover'd their Origine, in the Mind of Man, and to have shewn that they are at present altogether owing to that Prejudice common to all Men; That Sensations are in the Objects of their Senses. For if what I said before be consider'd with any attention, namely, that it is necessary for the Preservation of our Bodies, we should have Sensations essentially differing, though the Impressions which Objects make upon our Bodies, differ very little; it will manifestly appear he his much in the wrong, who imagines such wide differences in the Objects of our Senses.

But, by the way, I think it not amiss to declare, that no fault is to be found with these Terms, of Form, and Essential Difference. Honey is doubtless Honey, by its Form, and thus it is that it differs essentially from Salt; but this Form or this Essential Difference consists only in the different Configuration of its Parts. 'Tis this different Configuration, which makes Honey to be Honey, and Salt to be Salt: And though it be accidental to Matter in general, to have the Configuration of the parts of Honey or Salt, and so to have the Form of Honey or Salt; yet it may be said to be essential to Honey or Salt, that they may be what they are, to have such or such a Configuration in their parts; just as the Sensations of Cold, of Heat, of Pleasure, and Pain, are not essential to the Soul, but only to the Soul which feels them; in as much as by these Sensations, she is said to feel Heat, Cold, Pleasure, and Pain.

CHAP. XVII.

I. Another Instance taken from Morality, which shews that our Senses offer us nothing but false Goods. II. That GOD alone is our true and proper Good. III. The Origine of the Error of the Epicureans and Stoicks.

I HAVE, I think, brought sufficient Arguments to prove that this Prejudice, That our Sensations are in the Objects, is a most fruitful Principle of Errors in Natural Philosophy. It is my Business at present to bring others drawn from Morality, wherein the same Prejudice joyn'd with this other, That the Objects of our Senses are the true and sole Causes of our Sensations, is most highly dangerous.

[Page] I. An Instance taken from Morality, which shews that our senses offer us nothing but false goods.There is nothing so common in the World, as to see Men devoted to sensible Goods; some love Musick, some Banquetting, and others have a Passion for other things. Now this is the way of Reasoning these Men must have taken to perswade themselves that these Objects are their Goods. All the pleasant Tasts we are delighted with in Feasting, the Sounds which gratifie the Ear, and those other Pleasures we are sensible of, upon other occasions, are doubtless contain'd in sensible Objects; or, at least, these Objects give us the Sensation of them; or, lastly, are the only means of Conveying them to our Senses. Now it is impossible to doubt that Pleasure is good, and Pain evil. We receive a Conviction from within, and consequently the Objects of our Passions, are most real goods, to which we must cleave, if we will be happy.

I will explain in the last Book, in what sense Objects act upon the Body.This is the Reasoning we generally fall into almost without being aware of it; Thus, because we believe that our Sensations are in Objects, or that the Objects are of themselves capable of giving us the Sensation of them, we consider these things as our own Goods, though we are infinitely exalted above them; since they are able to act only upon our Bodies, and to produce some Motion in their Fibres, but are incapable of acting upon our Souls, or making us sensible either of Pleasure or Pain.

Certainly if our Soul acts not upon her self, on occasion of what happens in the Body,II. That GOD only is our Good; and that all sensible Objects cannot give us any sense of Pleasure. it is GOD alone who hath that Power: And if she be not the Cause of her own Pleasure and Pain, according to the Diversity of the Vibrations of the Fibres of her Body, as it is most highly probable she is not, since she feels Pleasure and Pain without consenting thereunto; I know no other Hand potent enough to make her sensible thereof, except that of the Author of Nature.

Certainly it is GOD alone who is our true Good: He only is able to fill us with all the Pleasures we are capable of enjoying; and it is only by the Knowledge of Him and Love of Him, He has resolv'd to make us sensible of them. Such as He has affixt to the Motions which happen in our Body, to make us the more sollicitous for its Preservation, are very little in themselves, very weak as to their Capacity, and very short in their Duration. Notwithstanding in the estate Sin has reduc'd us to, we are, as it were, become their Vassals. But those which He shall make His Elect sensible of in Heaven, will be infinitely greater, since He hath Created us that we might know and love Him. For whereas ORDER requires the Perception of the greatest Pleasures in the Possession of the greatest Goods, GOD being infinitely above all other things, the Pleasure of those who shall enjoy Him, will certainly exceed all other Pleasures.

III. The Origine of the Errors of the Epicureans and Stoicks.What we have said of the Cause of our Errors in respect of Good, gives us a sufficient Knowledge of the falsity of the Opinions the Epicureans and Stoicks embrac'd, touching the Sovereign Good. The Epicureans placed it in Pleasure; and because a Man is sensible of this no less in Vice than in Vertue, and more generally in the former than in the other, it has been commonly thought they let loose the Reins to all sorts of Sensible Pleasures.

Now the first cause of their Error is this, That judging falsly there is something pleasant and agreeable in the Objects of their Senses, or that they were the real Causes of the Pleasures they felt; and being moreover convinc'd by an Internal Sensation, which they naturally had, that Pleasure was good for them, at least for the time wherein they enjoy'd it, they let themselves loose to all sorts of Passions, from which they had no Apprehensions of receiving any dammage in the Consequence. Whereas they ought to have consider'd, that the Pleasure they reap'd from sensible things, could not exist in those things as their true Causes, nor any other way, and consequently that sensible Goods could not be Goods in respect of the Soul, and they should have thought of the things we have already explain'd.

The Stoicks on the other hand, being perswaded that sensible Pleasures were only seated in, and fitted for the Body, and that the Soul ought to have a peculiar Good of her own, plac'd Felicity in Vertue; see then the Origine of their Errors, Viz.

They believ'd that Sensible Pleasure and Pain were not in the Soul, but in the Body only; and made use of this their false Judgment as a Principle for other false Conclusions; as that Pain was not an Evil, nor Pleasure a Good: That the Pleasures of the Senses were not Good in their own Nature, that they were common to Men and Beasts, &c. Notwithstanding it is easie to see, that though the Epicureans and Stoicks were in the wrong in many things, they were in the right in some; for the Happiness of the Blessed consists only in a perfect and accomplish'd Vertue, that is to say, in their Knowledge and Love of GOD, and in a most exquisite Pleasure that never fails to accompany them.

Let it then be well remembred, That External Objects contain nothing either Pleasant or Troublesome in themselves; that they are not the Causes of our Pleasures; that we have no reason either to fear or love them; but it is GOD alone, whom 'tis our duty to fear, and our duty to love; since 'tis only He that has Power enough to Punish and Reward us; to make us sensible of Pleasure and of Pain: Finally, it is only in GOD and from GOD, we ought to hope to receive the Pleasures, towards which we have so strong, so natural, and so just an Inclination.

CHAP. XVIII.

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I. That our Senses make us liable to Error, even in things which are not sensible, II. An Example taken from the Conversation of Men. III. That sensible Manners are not to be regarded.

WE have sufficiently explain'd the Errors of our Senses, in respect of their Objects; as of Light, Colours, and other Sensible Qualities. Now let us see how they misguide us, even in regard to those Objects which are not of their Jurisdiction, by diverting us from an attentive Consideration of them, and inclining us to judge of them from their Testimony and Report; a thing that well deserves to be throughly explain'd.

Attention and Application of the Mind to the clear and distinct Idea's we have of Objects,I. That our senses make us liable to Error, even in things which are not sensible is the most necessary thing in the World, to discover what truly they are: For as it is impossible to see the Beauty and Excellency of any piece of Art, without opening the Eyes, and looking fixedly upon it: So the Mind cannot evidently see the most part of things, with the Relations they bare one to another, unless it considers them with Attention. But it is certain that nothing casts us off more from our Attention to clear and distinct Idea's, than our own Senses, and consequently nothing sets us so remote from Truth, or so soon throws us into Error.

For our better conceiving these things, 'tis absolutely necessary to know, That the three ways the Soul has of perceiving, viz. by the Senses, by the Imagination, and by Intellect, do not all equally affect her; and consequently, she does not fix an equal Attention on every thing she perceives by their means: For she applies her self most to that which touches her nearest, and she is careless enough of that which affects her but a little.

Now what she perceives by the Senses affects her much, and takes up all her Application; what she knows by her Imagination, touches her less pathetically: But that which the Vnderstanding represents to her; I would say, what she of her self perceives independently on the Senses and Imagination, scarce quickens or awakens her at all. No body doubts but that the least sensible Pain is more present to the Mind, and makes it more attentive than the Meditation of a thing of far greater Importance.

The reason which may be given for this, is, That the Senses represent the Objects as present, the Imagination represents them as absent. Now the order of things requires that among many Goods, or many Evils propos'd to the Soul, those which are present should give her more concern or application than others which are absent; because 'tis necessary for the Soul suddenly to determine what ought to be done on this occasion. And thus she is more intent to a simple prick of a Pin, than to the most exalted Speculations. And the Pleasures and Evils of this World make a greater Impression on her, than the ineffable Pains and infinite Pleasures of Eternity.

The Senses then do extreamly warp and bend down the Soul to what they represent to her: But whereas she is of a limited and finite Nature, and so cannot conceive distinctly many things at once; she cannot have a distinct Perception of what the Understanding represents to her at the same time her Senses offer any thing to her consideration. She forsakes then the clear and distinct Idea's of the Understanding, however proper to discover the truth of Things in their own Nature, to apply her self intirely to the confus'd Idea's of the Senses, which affect her tenderest part, and give her not a representation of things as they are in their own Nature, but only as they stand related to her Body.

If a Man, to give an instance, would explain any Truth,II. An Example taken from the Conversation of Men. he must necessarily make use of Speech and express his Notions and Internal Sensations by Motions and Manners sensible. Now the Soul is incapable of perceiving many things distinctly at the same time; so having always a great Attention to what comes in to her by way of the Senses, she is scarce at leisure to consider the Reasons which she hears alledg'd: But her greatest Application is confin'd to the sensible Pleasure she receives from the finely turn'd Periods, the Conformity of the Gestures to the Words, from the Genteel Mein of the Face, from the Air, and the Way and Manner of the Speaker: Yet after she has heard, she will needs judge, because it is the Custom. And thus her Judgments must be different, according to the diversity of the Impressions she has receiv'd through the Senses.

If, for example, the Speaker has a voluble Tongue, and easiness of Delivery; if he observes the numerousness of Words, and a delightful Cadence in his Periods; if he has the Look of a Gentleman, or of a Man of Parts; if he be a Person of Quality, or is attended with a great Retinue; if he dictates with Authority, or speakes in a grave decisive Manner; if others listen to him with Silence and Respect; if he has some Reputation in the World, or is acquainted with the great Wits of the Age; In fine, if he has the happiness to please, or to be esteem'd, he will have Reason in every word that he advances; and there shall be nothing even to his Band and Cuffs, but shall prove something or other.

[Page]But if he be so unfortunate as to have the Qualities quite contrary to these, let him demonstrate as long as he pleases, he shall prove nothing. Let him say the finest things in the World, no Man shall ever regard them. The Attention of the Auditors being imploy'd upon that only which strikes their Senses, the Disgust they conceive at the sight of a Man so uncouth and ill-contriv'd, will wholly take them up, and hinder the Application they ought to allow to his Thoughts; A dirty or a rumpled Band is enough to make the Wearer despis'd, and all that comes from him; and that way of talking like a Dotard or a meer Philosopher, will make the most noble and exalted Truths, which are above the reach of the generality of Mankind, be look'd on as Ravings and Extravagances.

Such are the ordinary Judgments of Mankind. Their Eyes and their Ears set up for Judges of Truth, and not their Reason, even in things that depend only on Reason; because Men apply themselves meerly to the Sensible and Agreeable Manners of Men, and seldom afford any Attention that is Resolute and Serious, towards the Discovery of Truth.

Yet what greater Injustice is there, than to judge of things by the Manner of them, and to despise Truth,III. That Sensible and Agreeable Manners ought not to be regarded. because it comes not dress'd in those Ornaments that please us and indulge and flatter our Senses? It should be reckon'd a Reproach to Philosophers, and such as pretend to Sense, to be more inquisitive after these agreeable out-side Manners, than Truth it self; and rather to entertain their Mind with the Noise and Emptiness of Words, than with the Solidity of Things. 'Tis for Men of a Vulgar Stamp, 'tis for Souls of Flesh and Blood, to suffer themselves to be won with Rhetorical Periods, and captivated with Figures and Motions that awake and excite the Passions.

Omnia enim stolidi magis admirantur amantque,

Inversis quae sub verbis latitantia cern [...]nt:

Veráque constituunt, quae bell [...] tangere possunt

Aures, & lepido quae sunt fucata sonore.

But wise Men endeavour to arm themselves against the malignant force, and the powerful charms of these sensible Manners. The Senses impose on them as well as on other Men, since they are no more than Men, but they have the Wisdom to disregard the Reports they make. They imitate that famous Example of the Judges of the Ar [...]opagus, who, upon a severe Penalty, forbad their Advocates the use of any fallacious Words and Figures, and never heard them plead but in the dark; for fear the Pleasantness of their Words and Insinuating Gestures should perswade them to any thing prejudicial to Truth and Justice, and to the end they might apply themselves with less distraction to the Solidity of their Reasons.

CHAP. XIX.

Two other Examples. I. The first, concerning our Errors about the Nature of Bodies. II. The second, concerning those which respect the Qualities of the same Bodies.

WE have been shewing that there are a vast multitude of Errors, which are originally owing to the strong Application of the Soul to that which enters by the Senses, and that Lukewarmness and Indifference to things represented by the Understanding. We have given an Instance of very considerable Importance in Morality, taken from the Conversation of Men; we shall produce some others drawn from the Commerce we have with the rest of Nature, which are absolutely necessary to be observ'd in Natural Philosophy.

One of the Principal Errors we fall into in point of Natural Philosophy, is our Imagining there is much more Substance in Sensible,I. The Errors concerning the Nature of Bodies. than in Imperceptible Bodies. The generallity of Men are of Opinion there is much more Matter in Gold and Lead, than in Air and Water: And Children who have made no Observation by their Senses of the Effects of Air, ordinarily imagine it has nothing of Reality in it.

Gold and Lead are extreamly ponderous, very hard, and very sensible; Water and Air, on the contrary, are scarce perceptible by the Senses. Whence Men conclude the former are more real than the other. They judge of the Truth of things by the Sensible Impression, which is ever fallacious; and they neglect the clear and distinct Idea's of the Intellect which never deceives us; because that which is sensible affects us, and challenges our Application; but that which is Intelligible lays us to sleep. These false Judgments respect the Substance of Bodies; let us now see the others about the Qualities of the same Bodies.

II. Errors concerning the Qualities and Perfection of Bodies.'Tis the way for Men, almost universally, to judge that the Objects which excite in them the most Pleasant Sensations, are the most Perfect and Pure of all others; without so much as knowing wherein the Perfection and Purity of Ma [...]ter consists, and, indeed, without caring whether they do or not.

[Page]They say, for instance, that Mud is Impure, and that the clearest Water is very pure. But Camels which love Muddy Water, and those Animals which delight to wallow in Mire, would be of another opinion. They are Beasts, 'tis true; but those Men who love the Entrails of a Woodcock, and the Excrements of a Civit-Cat, do not say they are Impure, though they say so of the Excrements of all other Animals. Finally, Musk and Amber are in general Esteem with all Men, though they are suppos'd to be nothing but Ordure.

It is certain Men judge of the Perfection and Purity of Matter, with Relation to their own Senses; whence it falls out, that the Senses being different in all Men, as has been abundantly explain'd, they must needs judge very differently of the Purity and Perfection of Matter. So that those Books which are daily compos'd upon the Imaginary Perfections attributed to certain Bodies, must needs be stuff'd with Errors, in all the strange and odd variety that can be; since the Reasonings they contain are founded only on the false, confus'd and irregular Idea's of the Senses.

It is not the Part of Philosophers to call Matter Pure or Impure, till they know what they precisely mean by the Words Pure and Impure. For a Man should never talk without knowing what he says; that is to say, without having distinct Idea's, which answer to the Terms he uses. Now if they had fixt clear and distinct Idea's to each of these Terms, they would see that what they call Pure would prove often very Impure, and what seems to them Impure would be found pure in an high degree.

If, for instance, they would have that Matter to be most Pure and Perfect, whose Parts are most fine and disunited and easiest to be mov'd; Gold, Silver and Precious Stones, would be extreamly Imperfect Bodies; Air and Fire on the other hand would be the most perfect, When Flesh began to putrifie, and cast a very noisom stench, it would then be commencing its Perfection, and stinking Carrion would be a more perfect Body, than sound and common Flesh.

Again, if on the other hand they would have those to be the most perfect Bodies, the parts whereof are most gross, solid, and difficult to be mov'd; the Earth would be perfecter than Gold, and Air and Fire would be more imperfect Bodies.

But if they are not willing to affix the clear and distinct Idea's I have mention'd, to the Terms Pure and Perfect, let them substitute others in their room. But if they pretend to define these words only by sensible Notions, they will eternally confound things with one another, since the Signification of the Terms that express them can never be fix'd and determin'd. All Men, as we have already prov'd, have very different Sensations of the same Objects: Wherefore a Man ought not to define these Objects by the Sensations he has of them, unless he has a mind to be unintelligible, and to put all things in confusion.

But at the bottom, there is no matter to be found, (not that which the Heavens are fram'd of) which has more Perfection in it than any other. All that Matter seems capable of, are Figures and Motions, and 'tis indifferent to it whether it has Figures and Motions regular or irregular. Reason does not tell us that the Sun is more Perfect or more Luminous than Dirt; nor that the Celebrated Beauties of Romancers and Poets, have any advantage over the most corrupted Carcasses; they are our false and treacherous Senses thot tell us this. It is in vain for Men to cry out against what we say; all their Railleries and Exclamations will appear frigid and ridiculous, to such as shall seriously examine the Reasons we have alledged.

Those who are us'd to no other Preception than that of their Senses, believe the Sun to abound with Light; but those who can be Sensible and Reasonable at the same time, are of another opinion; provided they have as good a Faculty of Reasoning, as they have of Sensation. I am very well perswaded, that even those who pay the greatest Deference to the testimony of their Senses, would close with our Opinion, had they well consider'd the things that we have said: But they are too much in love with the Delusion of their Senses; they have obey'd their Prejudices too long, and their Soul is too unthoughtful, or forgetful, to acknowledge or remember that all the Perfections she imagines she sees in Bodies, belong only to her self.

But it is not to this sort of Men we address our selves, we are very little concern'd for their Approbation and Esteem: They refuse to hearken to us, and consequently are incompetent Judges; we are satisfy'd in defending Truth, and having the Approbation of those who seriously labour to rid themselves of the Errors of their Senses, and to employ the Light of their Understanding. We only require of them, that they would seriously Meditate on these Thoughts, with the greatest Attention they can, and then let them judge of them: Let them condemn them or acquit them; we submit them to their Judgment, since by their Meditation they have obtain'd a Supreme Power and Jurisdiction over them, which without Injustice cannot be contested with them.

CHAP. XX.

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The Conclusion of the First Book. I. That our Senses are given us only for the Preservation of our Body, II. That we ought to doubt of the Reports they make. III. That 'tis no little thing to doubt, as we ought to do.

I HAVE, if I am not mistaken, made a sufficient Discovery of the General Errors into which our Senses lead us, whether in regard to their own Objects, or in respect of Things, which can only be perceiv'd by the Understanding: And I am of an Opinion, that we fall into no Error by their Conduct, the cause whereof may not be discover'd by the things that have been said, in case a Man will bestow a little Meditation upon them.

We have hitherto seen, that our Senses are most faithful and exact in instructing us in the Relations,I. That our Senses are given us only for the Preservation of our Body. which all the Bodies which surround us have with our own, but are incapable of teaching us what these Bodies are in their own Nature; that to make the best use of them, they must only be imploy'd to the Preservation of our Health and Life; and that they can't be sufficiently despis'd, when they pretend to raise themselves to a Sovereignty above the Understanding. This is the Principal Thing I would gladly have well remembred in all this First Book, viz. Let a Man throughly consider, that our Senses were only given us for the Preservation of our Body, let him fortifie himself in this Notion; and in order to free himself from the Ignorance he is under, let him seek out other Succors and Assistances, than those his Senses furnish him withall.

II. That we ought to doubt of the Reports which our Senses make of Things But supposing there be some such Men to be found, (as doubtless there be but too many of them) who will not be perswaded of these last Propositions by what we have hitherto said, we demand of them still much less than this; we only desire of them to enter into some Distrust of their Senses, and if they cannot entirely reject their Testimonies as false and treacherous, let them only seriously doubt, lest these Reports should not be absolutely true: And certainly, in my Opinion, enough hath been said, to cast at least some Scruple in the Mind of Reasonable Men, and consequently to excite them to the Employing their Liberty otherwise than they have hitherto done: for if they could once begin to doubt, that the Reports of their Senses were not true, they might with greater Ease with-hold their Consent, and so prevent their falling into those Errors, into which they have hitherto fallen especially if they could remember that Rule we have given at the Beginning of this Discourse, That we ought not to give an entire Consent, except to Things that appear entirely evident, and to which we could not forbear consenting, without being certainly convinc'd, we should make an ill us [...] of our Liberty in not consenting.

III. That 'tis no little thing to doubt as we ought to do. For what remains, let not a Man imagine he has made but an inconsiderable Progress, if he has only learn'd to Doubt. To know how to Doubt with Judgment and Reason, is not so small a thing as is suppos'd. For we must needs say, there is a great deal of difference betwixt Doubting and Doubting. Some Doubt out of a Rash Passion, and a Brutish Resolution; others out of Blindness and Malice, out of Humour and Fancy, and because they will do so; But there are others likewise, that Doubt out of Prudence and Caution, out of Wisdom and Penetration of Mind. The Academicks and Atheists Doubt after the former manner; but true Philosophers Doubt in the latter. The first Doubt is a Doubt of Darkness, which never conducts us towards the Light, but sets us at a greater Distance from it. The second Doubt proceeds from Light, and is assistant in some measure, to the production of it, in its turn.

Those who only Doubt in the former manner, know not what it is to Doubt with Understanding: They Laugh at Monsieur Des Cartes's teaching us to Doubt, in the first of his Metaphysical Meditations; because it seems to them, that it is no other, than a Fantastick Doubting; That it can only be said in general, that our Nature is Infirm, that our Mind is full of Blindness, that we ought to be very careful to rid our selves of our Prejudices, and some such things as these. They suppose that this is enough to prevent being seduc'd by their Senses, and not to be deceiv'd at all. But it is not enough to complain, that the Mind is weak; we must make her sensible of her Weaknesses: It is not enough to say, She is subject unto Error; we must discover to her wherein her Errors consist, to which I think we have given an Introduction in this first Book, by accounting for the Nature and Errors of our Senses; and we will still pursue the same Design, in explaining the Nature and Errors of our Imagination in the Second.

F. MALEBRANCHE'S TREATISE, CONCERNING The Search after TRUTH. BOOK the SECOND, Concerning The IMAGINATION.

[Page]

THE FIRST PART.

CHAP. I.

I. A General Idea of the Imagination. II. That it includes two Faculties, an Active and a Passive. III. A General Cause of the Changes which happen in the Imagination of Men; and the Foundation of the Second Book.

IN the foregoing Book I have treated concerning the Senses; I have endeavour'd to Explain their Nature, and precisely to determine the Use that ought to be made of them. I have discover'd the Principal and most General Errors, wherein they ingage us: and have attempted such a Limitation of their Power, as to put Man in a capacity of Hoping much, and Fearing nothing from them; whilst they keep them within those Boundaries I have prescrib'd them. In this Second Book I shall Discourse concerning the Imagination, as the Natural Order of things obliges me. For there is so near a Relation and Affinity betwixt the Imagination and the Senses, that they in no wise ought to be separated. We shall see too in the Sequel of the Discourse, that these two Powers are no farther Different than according to Degree of more or less.

This then is the Method which I have Observ'd in this Treatise: It is divided into three Parts. In the First I Explain the Natural Causes of the Disorder and Errors of the Imagination: In the Second I make some Application of these Causes to the more General Errors of the Imagination; and I Discourse of such as may be term'd the Moral Causes of these Errors. In the Third I treat of the Contagious Communication of Strong Imaginations.

Though the greatest part of the things contain'd in this Tract may not be so new, as those I have already deliver'd in Explaining the Errors of the Senses, yet their Use and Advantage will be no less considerable. Men of bright and clarify'd Understandings can easily discover the Errors, and the Causes of the Errors I am treating of: But there are few such Men as can make sufficient Reflection thereupon: I pretend not to give Instructions to all the World, my design is only to Inform the Ignorant, and to Caution and Remind the rest, or rather I try to be my own Instructour and Remembrancer.

It has been said in the First Book, that the Organs of our Senses were compos'd of little Fibres, which terminate, on one hand, upon the External parts of the Body, and on the Skin;I. A General Idea of the Imagination, and on the [...]ther, center in the middle of the Brain. But these Fibres may be moved in a two-fold manner; either by commencing their Motion at those Extremities which terminate in the Brain, or at those which terminate on the Surface of the Body. Being the Agitation of these Fibres cannot be communicated to the Brain, but the Soul must have some Perception or other; if the Agitation be begun by the Impression of Objects, made upon the External Surface of the Fibres of the Nerves, [Page] and be communicated to the Brain; the Soul thereupon receives a Sensation, and judges By a Natural Judgment, whereof I have spoken in several places of the preceding Book. what she has the Sensation of, to be without; that is to say, She perceives an Object as Present: but if it be only the Internal Fibres that are agitated by the Course of the Animal Spirits, or in some other manner, the Soul Imagines and judges what she imagines to be not without, but within the Brain; that is, she perceives an Object as Absent. And this is the difference there is between Sensation and Imagination.

But it ought to be observ'd, That the Fibres of the Brain are more violently agitated by the Impression of External Objects, than by the Course of the Animal Spirits; and that for this reason the Soul is more nearly touch'd by External Objects, which she judges as present, and, as it were, capable of making her instantly sensible of Pleasure or Pain, than by the Course of the Animal Spirits. And yet it happens sometimes in Persons whose Animal Spirits are put in extream Commotion, by Fastings, Watchings, a scorching Fever, or a violent Passion, that these Spirits move the Internal Fibres of the Brain with as great a force, as External Objects; so that these Persons have the Sensation of what they should only have the Imagination, and think they See Objects before their Eyes, which they only Imagine in the Brain. Which evidently shews, that, in regard of what occurs in the Body, the Senses and Imagination differ but in Degree of more or less, as I have before declar'd.

But in Order to give a more distinct and particular Idea of the Imagination, we must know that as often as any Change happens in that part of the Brain where the Nerves unite, there happens a Change also in the Soul: That is, as has been already explain'd, if there happens any Motion in this part which alters the Order of its Fibres, there happens, at the same time, a new Perception in the Soul; and she either Feels or Imagines something afresh: And that the Soul is incapable of receiving any fresh Sensation or Imagination, without some Alteration in the Fibres of that part of the Brain.

So that the Faculty of Imagining, or the Imagination, consists only in the Power the Soul has of framing the Images of Objects, by effecting a Change in the Fibres of that part of the Brain, which may be call'd the Principal Part, as being that which corresponds to all the Parts of our Body; and is the Place where the Soul keeps her immediate Residence, if I may be so allow'd to speak.

This manifestly shews that this Power which the Soul has of Forming these Images, includes two things;II. Two Faculties in the Imagination, an Active and a Passive. one that has its Dependence on the Soul, and the other on the Body. The first is the Action and the Command of the Will, The second is the ready Obedience paid to it by the Animal Spirits which delineate those Images, and by the Fibres of the Brain wherein they must be imprinted, In this Tract, both one and the other of these two things go indifferently by the Name of Imagination; nor are they distinguish'd by the Terms Active and Passive, which might be given them; because the Sense of the thing spoken of, easily determines which of the Two is understood, whether the Active Imagination of the Soul, or the Passive Imagination of the Body.

I shall not here particularly determine which is that Principal Part of the Brain before-mention'd; First, Because it would be but an useless thing to do it. Secondly, Because it is not perfectly and infallibly known. And lastly, Since I could not convince others, it being a Matter incapable of Probation in this place; though I should be infallibly assur'd which was this Principal Part, I should think it more adviseable to say nothing of it.

Whether then it be according to the Opinion of Dr. Willis, in the two little Bodies, call'd by him Corpora Striata, that the common Sense resides; and the Cells of the Brain preserve the Species of the Memory, and the Corpus Callosum be the Seat of Imagination. Whether it be according to Fernelius's Opinion, in the Pia Mater, which involves the Substance of the Brain: Whether it be in the Pineal Gland, according to the Notion of Des-Cartes; or, lastly, in some other part hitherto undiscover'd, that our Soul exercises her Principal Functions, is of no great concern to know. 'Tis enough to be assur'd that there is a Principal Part, (and this is moreover absolutely necessary) and that the Basis of Mr. Des-Cartes's System stands its ground. For 'tis to be well observ'd, that though he should be mistaken in assuring us it is the Pineal Gland, to which the Soul is immediately united, this could no ways injure the Foundation of his System, from which may ever be deduc'd all the profit that could be expected from the true, to make all necessary advances in the knowledge of Man.

Since then the Imagination consists only in the Power the Soul has of Forming the Images of Objects,III. A general cause of the Changes, which happen in the Imagination; and the foundation of the Second Book. by imprinting them (as I may so say) in the Fibres of the Brain; the greater and more distinct the Impresses of the Animal Spirits are, which are the strokes of these Images, the more strongly and distinctly the Soul will imagine Objects. Now, as the Largeness, and Depth, and Cleaverness of the strokes of any Sculpture depend upon the Forcible Acting of the Graving Instrument, and the plyable yielding of the Plate; so the Depth, and the Distinctness of the Impresses of the Imagination, depend on the Force of the Animal Spirits, and the Constitution of the Fibres of the Brain: And 'tis the Variety that is found in these two things, which is almost the universal Cause of that great Diversity we observe in the Minds of different Men.

For 'tis no hard thing to account for all the different Characters to be met with in the Minds of Men: On the one hand, by the Abundance and Scarcity, by the Rapidness and Slowness, by the Grossness and the Littleness of the Animal Spirits; and on the other hand, by the Fineness [Page] and Courseness, by the Moisture and Driness, by the Facility and Difficulty of the yielding of the Fibres of the Brain; and lastly, by the Relation the Animal Spirits may possibly have with these Fibres. And it would be very expedient for every one, forthwith to try to Imagine to himself all the different Combinations of these things, and to apply himself seriously to the Consideration of all the Differences we have observ'd between the Minds of Men. Because it is ever more Useful, and also more Pleasant for a Man to employ his own Mind, and to accustom it to the finding out Truth by its own Industry, than to suffer it to gather Rust by a careless Laziness, in applying it only to things wholly digested, and explain'd to his hands. Besides that, there are some things so delicately nice and fine, in the different Character of Minds, that a Man may easily sometimes discover them, and be sensible of them himself, but is unable to represent them, or make them sensible to others.

But that we may explain, as far as possibly we can, all the Differences that are found in different Minds, and that every Man may more easily observe in his own, the Cause of all the Changes, he sensibly perceives in it at different times; it seems convenient to make a general Enquiry into the Causes of the Changes, which happen in the Animal Spirits, and in the Fibres of the Brain: Since this will make way for the Discovery of all those, which happen in the Imagination.

Man never continues long like himself; all Mankind have sufficient Internal Convictions of their own Inconstancy. A Man judges one while in one manner, and another while in another, concerning the same Subject. In a word, the Life of a Man consists only in the Circulation of the Blood, and in another Circulation of Thoughts and Desires. And I am of Opinion, a Man can't employ his Time much better, than in Searching for the Causes of these Changes we are subject to, and entring into the Knowledge of our Selves.

CHAP. II.

I. Of the Animal Spirits, and the Changes they are subject to in general. II. That the Chyle entering the Heart, occasions a Change in the Spirits. III. That Wine does the same thing.

'TIS confess'd by all the World, that the Animal Spirits are nothing,I. Of the Animal Spirits, and the Changes they are subject to in general▪ but the more subtil and agitated parts of the Blood; which Subtilty and Agitation is principally owing to the Fermentation it receives in the Heart; and the violent Motion of the Muscles, which constitute that part: That these Spirits, together with the rest of the Blood, are conducted through the Arteries to the Brain: And that there they are separated from it, by some parts appropriated to that purpose; but which they are, it has not been yet agreed upon.

From whence we ought to conclude, that in case the Blood be very subtil, it will have abundance of Animal Spirits; but if it be gross, the Animal Spirits will be few: That if the Blood be compos'd of parts easie to be inflam'd in the Heart, or very fit for Motion, the Spirits in the Brain will be extreamly heated and agitated: And, on the contrary, if the Blood admits little Fermentation in the Heart, the Animal Spirits will be languid, unactive, and without force: And lastly, according to the Solidity, which is found in the parts of the Blood, the Animal Spirits will have more or less solidity, and consequently greater or lesser force in their Motion. But these things ought to be explain'd more at large, and the Truth of them made more sensibly apparent, by Examples and uncontroverted Experiments that prove them.

The Authority of the Ancients has not only blinded some Mens Understandings, but we may say, has seal'd up their Eyes.II. That the Chyle entring the Heart occasions a Change in the Spirits. For there are still a sort of Men that pay so submissive a deference to Ancient Opinions, or possibly are so stiff and obstinate, that they will not see those things which they could not contradict, would they but please to open once their Eyes. We daily see Men, in good Reputation and Esteem for their Study, Write and Dispute publickly against the Visible and Sensible Experiments of the Circulation of the Blood, against that of the Gravitation and Elastick force of the Air, and others of the like Nature. The Discovery Mr. Pacquet has made in our Time, and which we have here occasion for, is of the number of those that are mis-fortunate, meerly for want of being Born Old; and, as a Man may say, with a Venerable Beard. I shall not, however, omit to make use of it, and am under no Apprehension of being blam'd by Judicious Men for doing so.

According to that Discovery, it is manifest that the Chyle does not immediately pass from the Viscera to the Liver, through the Mesaraick Veins, as was believ'd by the Ancients; but that it passes out of the Bowels into the Lacteal Veins, and from thence into several Receptacles, where these Veins coterminate: That from thence it ascends through the Ductus Thoracicus along the Vertebrae of the Back, and proceeds to mix with the Blood in the Axillary Vein, which enters into the Superiour Trunck of Vena Cava; and thus being mingled with the Blood, it discharges it self into the Heart.

It ought to be concluded from this Experiment, that the Blood thus mingled with the Chyle, being very different from that which has already circulated several times through the Heart, the [Page] Animal Spirits, that are only the more fine and subtil parts of it, ought to be very different in Persons that are fasting, and others after they have eaten. Again, because in the Meats and Drinks that are us'd, there is an infinite Variety, and likewise those that use them, have Bodies diversly dispos'd: Two Persons after Dinner, though rising from the same Table, must sensibly perceive in their Faculty of Imagining, so great a Variety of Alterations, as is impossible to be describ'd.

I confess those who are in a perfect state of Health, perform Digestion so easily, that the Chyle flowing into the Heart, neither augments nor diminishes the Heat of it, and is scarce any Obstruction to the Blood's fermenting in the very same manner, as if it enter'd all alone: So that their Animal Spirits, and consequently their Imaginative Faculty admit hardly any Change thereby. But as for Old and Infirm People, they find in themselves very sensible Alterations after a Repast: They generally grow dull and sleepy; at least, their Imagination flags and languishes, and has no longer any Briskness or Alacrity. They can conceive nothing distinctly, and are unable to apply themselves to any thing. In a word, they are quite different and other sort of People from what they were before.

III. That Win [...] effects the same thing.But that those of a more sound and robust Complection, may likewise have sensible proofs of what I have said; they need only make reflection on what happens to them in Drinking Wine somewhat more freely than ordinary; or on what would fall out upon their drinking Wine at one Meal, and Water at another. For it is certain, that unless they be extreamly stupid, or that their Body be of a make very extraordinary, they will suddainly feel in themselves some Briskness, or little Drousiness, or some such other accidental thing.

Wine is so spirituous, that it is Animal Spirits almost ready made: But Spirits a little too libertine and unruly, that not easily submit to the orders of the Will, by reason of their Solidity and excessive Agitation. Thus it produces even in Men that are of a most strong and vigorous Constitution, greater Changes in the Imagination, and in all the parts of the Body, than Meats, and other Liquors.Vinum iuctator dolosus est. It gives a Man a Foil, in Plautus's Expression; and produces many Effects in the Mind, less advantagious than those describ'd by Horace in these Lines.

Quid non Ebrietas designat? operta recludit:

Spes jubet esse ratas: in praelia trudit inermem:

Sollicitis animis onus eximit: addocet artes.

Foecundi calices quem non fecere disertum?

Contractâ quem non in paupertate solutum?

It would be no hard matter to give a Reason for all the Principal Effects produc'd in the Animal Spirits, and thereupon in the Brain, and in the Soul it self, by this Commixture of the Chyle and Blood; as to explain how Wine exhilarates, and gives a Man a certain Sprightliness of Mind, when taken with Moderation; why it Brutifies a Man in process of time, by being drunk to excess; why a Man is drousie after a good Meal, and a great many others of like Nature, for which very ridiculous Accounts are usually given. But besides that I am not writing a Tract of Physicks, I must have been necessitated to have given some Idea of the Anatomy of the Brain, or have made some Supposition, as Monsieur Des-Cartes has done before me in his Treatise concerning Man, without which it were impossible to explain ones self. But finally, if a Man shall read with Attention that Discourse of Monsieur Des-Cartes, he will possibly be satisfy'd as to all these particular Inquiries; because that Author explains all these things; at least, he furnishes us with sufficient Knowledge of them, to be able of our selves to discover them by Meditation, provided we are any whit acquainted with his Principles.

CHAP. III.

That the Air imploy'd in Respiration causes some Change in the Animal Spirits.

THE second general Cause of the Changes which happen in the Animal Spirits, is the Air we breath, For though it does not forthwith make such sensible Impressions as the Chyle, yet it causes at long run, what the Juices of Meats do in a much shorter time. This Air passes out of the Branches of the Trachea into those of the Arteria Venosa: Hence it mingles, and ferments with the rest of the Blood in the Heart; and, according to its own particular Disposition, and that of the Blood, it produces very great Changes in the Animal Spirits, and consequently in the Imaginative Faculty.

I know there are some Persons, who will not be persuaded that the Air mixes with the Blood in the Lungs and Heart; because they cannot discover with their Eyes, the Passages in the Branches of the Trachea, and in those of the Arteria Venosa, through which the Air is communicated. But the Action of the Intellect ought not to stop, when that of the Senses can go no farther. It can penetrate that which to them is impenetrable, and lay hold on things which have no handle [Page] for the Senses. 'Tis not to be question'd, but some parts of the Blood continually pass through the Branches of the Vena Arteriosa, into those of the Trachea. The Smell and Moisture of the Breath, sufficiently prove it; and yet the Passages of that Communication are imperceptible. Why then may not the subtil parts of Air be allow'd to pass through the Branches of the Trachea, into the Arteria Venosa though the Passages of this Communication be undiscernible? In fine, a much greater quantity of Humours transpire through the imperceptible Pores of the Arteries and the Skin, than escape through the other Avenues of the Body; and even the Pores of the most solid Metals, are not so close, but there are found Bodies in Nature little enough to find a free passage through them; since otherwise these Pores would quickly be entirely stopt.

It is true that the course and ragged parts of the Air cannot penetrate through the ordinary Pores of Bodies; and that Water it self, though extreamly gross, can glide through those crannies, which will not give admittance to them. But we speak not here of the course or branch'd and ragged Parts of Air; they seem to be of little use to Fermentation: We only speak of the little, stiff and pungent Parts, and such as have none or very few Branches to impede their passage, because these are the fittest for the Fermentation of the Blood.

I might notwithstanding affirm upon the Testimony of Silvius, that even the coursest Air passes from the Trachea to the Heart, who testifies he has seen it pass thither by the Art and Ingenuity of Mr. de Swammerdam. For 'tis more reasonable to believe a Man who says he has seen it, than a thousand others who talk at random. It is certain then that the most refin'd and subtil Parts of Air which we breath, enter into the Heart; and there, together with the Blood and Chyle, keep up the Fire which gives Life and Motion to our Body; and that according to their different Qualities, they introduce great Changes in the Fermentation of the Blood, and in the Animal Spirits.

We daily discover the Truth of this by the various Humours, and the different Characters of the Minds of Men of different Countries: The Gascons, for instance, have a more brisk and lively Imagination, than the Normans: Those of Rhoan, and Dieppe, and Picardie, differ all from one another: And yet farther from the Low-Normans, though at no great distance from each other. But if we consider Men that live in Countries more remote,Numquid non ultra est sapientia in Theman? Jer. c. 49. v. 7. we shall find much stranger Differences between them: For instance, an Italian, a Flemming, and a Dutch-Man. To conclude, there are places celebrated in all Ages for the Wisdom of their Inhabitants, as Theman and Athens, and others, as notorious for their Stupidity, as Thebes and Abdera, and some others.

Athenis tenue coelum, ex quo acutiores etiam putantur Attici, crassum Thebis. Cic. de Fato.

Abderitanae pectora plebis habes. Mart.

Boeotum in crasso jurares aëre natum. Hor.

CHAP. IV.

I. Of the Change of the Spirits caus'd by the Nerves, which go to the Heart and Lungs. II. Of that which is caus'd by the Nerves, which go to the Liver, to the Spleen and Viscera: III. That all that, is perform'd without the concurrence of our Will, but yet it cannot be done without a Providence.

THE third cause of the Changes, which happen to the Animal Spirits, is the most ordinary, and most active of them all, because it is this which produces, maintains and corroborates all the Passions. For our better understanding this, we must know that the Nerves of the fifth, sixth, and eighth Conjugation shoot out the greatest part of their Branches into the Breast and Belly, where they are most advantagiously imploy'd for the Preservation of the Body, but most dangerously in regard to the Soul: Because these Nerves in their Action depend not on the Will of Men, as do these us'd in moving the Legs and Arms, and other External Parts of the Body: And they have a greater influence upon the Soul, than the Soul has upon them.

We must know then, that many of the Branches of the Nerves of the eighth Conjugation,I. Of the Changes of the Spirits caus'd by the Nerves which go to the Heart, and Lungs fall in among the Fibres of the Principal of all the Muscles, the Heart; that they encircle its Orifices, its Auricles and its Arteries. That they expatiate also into the Substance of the Lungs, and thus by their different Motions produce very considerable Changes in the Blood. For the Nerves which are dispers'd among the Fibres of the Heart, causing it to Dilate and Contract it self in too hasty and violent a manner, throw, with an unusual force, abundance of Blood towards the Head, and all other External Parts of the Body. Though sometimes these same Nerves have a quite contrary Effect. As for the Nerves which surround the Orifices of the Heart, its Auricles and Arteries, their use is much the same with that of the Registers, wherewith the Chymists moderate [Page] the Heat of their Furnaces; or of Cocks which are instrumental in Fountains, to regulate the Course of their Waters. For the use of these Nerves is to contract and dilate diversly the Orifices of the Heart, and by that manner to hasten, and retard the Entrance and the Exit of the Blood, and so to augment and diminish the Heat of it. Lastly, The Nerves which are dispers'd over the Lungs, have the same employment: For the Lungs being made up only of the Branches of the Trachea, of the Vena Arteriosa, and the Arteria Venosa, interwoven one among another, it is plain that the Nerves which are dispers'd through their Substance, by their Contraction, must obstruct the Air from passing so freely out of the Branches of the Trachea, and the Blood out of those of the Vena Arteriosa, into the Arteria Venosa, to discharge it self into the Heart. Thus these Nerves according to their different agitation, augment and diminish still the Heat and Motion of the Blood.

All the Passions furnish us with very sensible Experiments of these different Degrees of Heat of our Heart; we manifestly feel its Diminution and Augmentation sometimes on a sudden: And as we falsly judge our Sensations to be in the Parts of our Body, and by occasion of them to be Excited in our Soul, as has been explain'd in the foregoing Book; So the generality of Philosophers imagine the Heart to be the Principal Seat of the Passions of the Soul, and 'tis even at this day the most common and receiv'd Opinion.

Now because the Imaginative Faculty receives considerable Changes by the Changes which happen in the Animal Spirits; and because the Animal Spirits are very different, according to the different Fermentation of the Blood, perform'd in the Heart; it is easie to discover the Reason of Passionate People's imagining things quite otherwise, than those who consider'd the same sedately, and in cold Blood.

The other Cause which exceedingly contributes to the Diminution and Augmentation of these Extraordinary Fermentations of the Blood, in the Heart, consists in the Action of many other Branches of the Nerves, whereof we have been speaking.

II. Of the Change of the Spirit, caus'd by the Nerves which go to the Liver, to the Spleen, and other Viscera.These Branches are dispers'd throughout the Liver, which contains the more subtil part of the Blood, or that which is commonly call'd the Bile; through the Spleen, which contains the grosser part, or the Melancholy; through the Pancreas, which contains an acid Juice, most proper for Fermentation; through the Stomach, the Guts, and the other parts, which contain the Chyle. Finally, They are dispers'd and spread about all the parts, that can any ways contribute to the varying the Fermentation of the Blood in the Heart. There is moreover nothing even to the Arteries and Veins, which has not a Connection with these Nerves; as Dr. Willis has discover'd of the Inferiour Trunck of the Great Artery, which is connected to them near the Heart; of the Axillary Artery on the right side; of the Emulgent Vein, and several others.

Thus the use of the Nerves being to agitate the parts (to which they are fastened) diverse ways, it is easie to conceive how, for instance, the Nerve which surrounds the Liver may, by constringing it, drive a great quantity of Bile into the Veins, and the Canalis Cysticus, which mingling with the Blood in the Veins, and with the Chyle, through the Canalis Cysticus, enters the Heart, and produces a Heat therein much more fervent than ordinary. Thus when a Man is mov'd with some kind of Passions, the Blood boyls in the Arteries and in the Veins, and the Heat is diffus'd throughout the Body, the Fire flies up into the Head, which is presently fill'd with such a prodigious quantity of over-brisk and rapid Animal Spirits, as by their impetuous Current, hinder the Imagination from representing other things, than those, whose Images they form in the Brain; that is, from thinking on other Objects than those of the Predominant Passion.

'Tis so again with the little Nerves which run into the Spleen, or into other parts which contain a Matter more gross, and course, and less capable of Heat and Motion; they render the Imagination wholly Languid, Drousy and Unactive, by pouring into the Chanels of the Blood a Matter that is gross and difficult to be put in Motion.

As for those Nerves which environ the Arteries and Veins, their Use is to put a stop to the current of the Blood, and, by their Pressure and Constriction of the Veins and Arteries, oblige it to flow into those places, where it meets with a passage more free and open. Thus that part of the great Artery, which furnishes all the parts of the Body, below the Heart, with Blood, being bound and straitned by these Nerves, the Blood must necessarily enter the Head in greater quantities, and so produce a Change in the Animal Spirits, and consequently in the Imagination.

But it ought to be well observ'd, that all this is perform'd by mere Mechanism; I mean, that all the different Movements of these Nerves in all the different Passions,III. That these things are perform'd by the order of Providence, without the concurrence of our Will. are not affected by the Command of the Will; but on the contrary, are perform'd without its orders, and even in contradiction to them: Insomuch that a Body without a Soul dispos'd like that of a [...]ound Man, would be capable of all the Movements which accompany our Passions: And thus Beasts themselves might have such as nearly resembled them, though they were only pure Machines.

This is the thing for which we ought to admire the Incomprehensible Wisdom of Him, who has so regularly rang'd and contriv'd all these Natural Wheels, and Movements, as to make it sufficient for an Object, to move the Optick Nerve in such and such a manner, to produce so many diverse Motions in the Heart, in the other inward parts of the Body, and on the Face it self. For it has lately been discover'd, that the same Nerve which shoots some of its Branches into the Heart, and into other Internal parts, communicates also some of its Branches into the Eye, the Mouth, and other parts of the Face; so that no Passion can rise or mutiny within, but it must betray presently it self without, because there can be no Motion in the Branches extended to the Heart, but there must another happen in those, which are spread o'er the Face.

[Page]The Correspondence and Sympathy, which is found between the Nerves of the Face, and some others, answering to other places of the Body, not to be nam'd, is still much more Remarkable; and that which occasions this great Sympathy, is as in the other Passions, because these little Nerves which climb into the Face, are only Branches of that which descends lower.

When a Man is overtaken with some violent Passion, if he is careful to make a Reflection upon what he feels in his Entrails, and in other parts of his Body, where the Nerves insinuate themselves, as also upon the Changes of Countenance, which accompany it; and if he considers that all these divers Agitations of the Nerves, are altogether involuntary, and that they happen in spite of all the Resistance that our Will can make to them, he will find it no hard matter to suffer himself to embrace this simple Exposition, that hath been given of all these Relations and Correspondencies betwixt the Nerves.

But if a Man examines the Reasons and the End of all these things, so much Order and Wisdom will be found in them, that a little Soberness of Thought and Attention will be able to convince the most devoted Admirers of Epicurus and Lucretius, that there is a Providence that governs the World. When I see a Watch, I have reason to conclude, that there is some Intelligent Being, since it is Impossible for Chance and Hap-hazard to produce, to range and posture all its Wheels. How then could it be possible, that Chance, and a confus'd Jumble of Atoms, should be capable of ranging in all Men and Animals, such abundance of different secret Springs and Engines, with that Exactness and Proportion, I have just Explain'd: and that Men and Animals should thereby procreate others exactly like themselves. So ridiculous it is to think or to say with Lucretius, That all the parts which go to the Composition of Man, were pack't together by Chance; that his Eyes were not made with any design of Seeing, but that he afterwards thought of Seeing because he found he had Eyes; And thus with the other parts of the Body. These are his Words.

Lumina ne facias oculorum clara creata,

Prospicere ut possimus: &, ut proferre vidi.

Proceros passus, ideo fastigia posse

Surarum, ac foeminum pedibus fundata plicari:

Brachia tum poro validis ex apta lacertis

Esse, manúsque datas utraque à parte ministras,

Vt facere ad vitam possimus, quae foret usus.

Caetera de genere hoc inter quaecunque pretantur:

Omnia perversa praepostera sunt ratione.

Nil adeo quoniam natum 'st in corpore, ut uti

Possemus: sed quod natum 'st id procreat usum.

Must not he needs have a strange Aversion to a Providence, who would thus voluntarily put out his Eyes for fear of seeing it, and endeavour to render himself insensible to Arguments so strong and convincing, as those Nature furnishes us withal? I confess, when once Men affect to be thought bold, or rather Atheistical Wits, as did the Epicureans, they presently find themselves benighted in darkness, and see only false glimmerings for the future; they peremptorily deny the most clear and Self-evident Truths, and as haughtily and Magisterially affirm the falsest and obscurest Things in the World.

The Poet I have just cited, may serve as a Proof of that Blindness of these venturous Wits; he confidently pronounces, and against all appearance of Truth, about the most difficult and obscurest Questions: when at the same time it may well be thought, he has no Preception of Idea's, that are most clear and evident. If I should stand to transcribe passages of that Author to justifie what I say, I should make too long and tedious a Digression; for though it may be permitted me to make some Reflections, which stay and fasten the Mind for a Moment upon essential Truths, yet I should never attone for making Digressions, which throw off the Mind a considerable time, from its Attention to its principal Subject, to apply it to things of little or no Importance.

CHAP. V.

I. Of the Memory. II. Of the Habits.

WE have been explaining the general Causes, as well External as Internal, which effect a Change in the Animal Spirits, and consequently in the Imaginative Faculty. We have shewn that the External are the Meats we feed upon, and the Air we take in, for Respiration. And that the Internal consist in the Involuntary Agitation of certain Nerves. We know no other general Causes, and we are confident there are none. In so much that the Faculty of Imagining, as to the Body, depends only on two things, namely, the Animal Spirits, and the Disposition of the Brain, whereon they act. There nothing more remains at present to to give us a perfect Knowledge of the Imagination, than the manifestation of the different Changes, that may happen in the Substance of the Brain.

[Page]They shall be examined by us, as soon as we have given some Idea of the Memory and Habits, that is to say, of that facility we have of thinking upon things which we have already thought upon, and doing the same things we have already done: The Methodical Order of our Discourse will have it so.

I. Of the Mewory.In order to give an Explication of the Memory ▪ it should be call'd to Mind, what has been several times already inculcated; that all our different Preceptions are affix'd to the Changes which happen to the Fibres of the Principal part of the Brain, wherein the Soul more particularly resides.

This one Supposition being laid down, the Nature of the Memory is Explain'd: for as the Branches of a Tree, which have continued for some time bent after a particular manner; preserve a readiness and facility of being bent afresh in the same manner; so the Fibres of the Brain, having once receiv'd certain Impressions from the current of the Animal Spirits, and from the Action of Objects upon them, retain for a considerable time, some Facility of receiving the same Dispositions. Now the Memory consists only in that Promptness or Facility; since a Man thinks upon the same things, whenever the Brain receives the same Impressions.

And whereas the Animal Spirits act sometimes more, and sometimes less strongly upon the Substance of the Brain; and External Objects make far greater Impressions, than the Imagination singly; it is from hence easie to discover, why a Man does not equally remember all the things he has formerly perceiv'd; how, for instance, it comes to pass, that what a Man has often perceived, is generally represented livelier to the Soul, than what a Man has had but now and then a Preception of: why he more distinctly remembers the things he has seen, than those he has only imagin'd; and so why, for example, a Man shall know better the distribution of the Veins in the Liver by once seeing the Dissection of that part, than by often reading it in a Book of Anatomy; and so of other things of like nature.

But if a Man would make reflection upon what has been formerly said, concerning the Imagination; and upon the little which has just now been spoken concerning the Memory; and if he be rid of that prejudice, that our Brain is too little for the hoarding up and preserving such abundance of Traces and Impressions, he will take pleasure in discovering the cause of all those wonderful Effects of the Memory, St. Austin with so much admiration speaks of, in the Tenth Book of his Confessions. But I shall not explain these things more at large; as believing it more expedient for every Man to explain them to himself by some Essay of Thought; for as much as the things that way discover'd, are always more grateful and agreeable, and make greater Impression on us, than those we learn from other Men.

II. Of the Habits.It is necessary to the Explication of the Habits, to know the manner whereby (we have reason to think) the Soul moves the parts of the Body, to which she is united; and that is this: According to all appearances in the World, there are always in some places of the Brain, whatever they be, a very great Quantity of Animal Spirits, very rapidly mov'd by the Heat of the Heart, from whence they proceeded; and most readily dispos'd to glide into those places, where they find an easie and an open passage. All the Nerves terminate in the Receptacle of those Spirits, and the Soul has the I explain elsewhere wherein this Power consists. Power of determining their Motion, and conducting them through the Nerves, into all the Muscles of the Body. These Spirits entering therein swell them up, and consequently contract them: And thus they move the parts to which the Muscles are affix'd.

We shall readily be perswaded, that the Soul moves the Body in the manner thus explain'd, if it be observ'd, that when a Man has been a long time fasting, let him try, how he will, to give certain motions to his Body, he will be unable to effect them, and even will be at some pains to stand upon his Legs. But if so be he find a way of conveying into his Heart something very Spirituous, as Wine or any like nutriment, he forthwith perceives that his Body obeys his Desires with far greater facility, and that he is able to move it how he pleases. For this single Experiment makes it, one would think, sufficiently manifest, that the Soul is incapable of giving Motion to her Body for want of Animal Spirits; and that by their means she re-assumes her Sovereignity and Dominion over it.

Now these Inflations of the Muscles are so plain and palpable in the Motions of our Arms, and other parts of our Body; and 'tis so reasonable to believe these Muscles cannot receive any Inflation, without the admission of some body into them; as a Bladder cannot be blown and extended, without the entrance of the Air, or something else; that it seems not to be doubted but the Animal Spirits are driven from the Brain, through the Nerves into the Muscles, to dilate them, and to produce in them all the Motions we desire. For a Muscles being full is necessarily shorter than when it is empty; and so attracts and moves the part to which it is conjoin'd; as may be seen explain'd more at large in Mr. Des Cartes Treatise of the Passions, and in that Concerning Man. I do not however deliver that Explication as perfectly demonstrated in all its parts: To render it entirely evident, there are many things farther requisite to be demanded: without which, it is next to impossible to explain ones self. But the Knowledge of them is not so useful for our Subject; for let the Explication be true or false, it will not fail to be of equal use to acquaint us with the Nature of the Habits. Since if the Soul moves not the Body in that manner, it necessarily moves it in some other, that comes up near enough to it, to deduce those consequences from it, which we shall infer.

But to the intent we may pursue our Explication, it is necessary to observe, that the Spirits find not the paths, through which they ought to pass, always so free and open, as they should be; which is the occasion, for example, of the Difficulty we meet with in moving the Fingers with that Nimbleness as is necessary to play on Musical Instruments; or the Muscles imploy'd in [Page] Pronunciation, to pronounce the Words of a strange Language: but that the Animal Spirits by little and little, so open and plain the Ways by their continued succession, as to take away in time all manner of Resistance. Now the Habits consist in that Facility the Animal Spirits have of passing into the Members of our Body.

'Tis the easiest thing imaginable, according to this Explication, to resolve a multitude of Questions relating to the Habits: As why, for instance, Children are more capable of acquiring new Habits, than Persons of a more consummate Age. Why it is a thing of such Difficulty, to lay aside an inveterate Custom. Why Men by use of Speaking, obtain so great a Dexterity at it, as to pronounce their Words with an incredible swiftness, and even without considering them; as is but too often customary with those, who say the Prayers which they have been us'd to, several Years together. And yet many things go to the Pronunciation of one Word; many Muscles must be mov'd at once, in a certain time, and a definite Order, as those of the Tongue, the Lips, the Throat, and Diaphragm. But a Man may with a little Meditation give himself satisfaction upon these Questions, as upon many others very curious, and no less useful, and it is not necessary to dwell any longer upon them.

It is manifest from what has been said, that there is a great affinity between the Memory and Habits; and that in one sense, the Memory may pass for a Species of Habit. For as the Corporeal Habits consist in the Facility the Spirits have acquir'd, of passing into certain places of our Body: So the Memory consists in the Traces the same Spirits have imprinted in the Brain, which are the cause of that Facility we have of Recollecting and Remembring things. In so much that were there no Perceptions affix'd to the courses of the Animal Spirits, and the Traces they leave behind them; there would be no difference between the Memory and the other Habits. Nor is there greater difficulty to conceive how Beasts, though void of Soul, and incapable of any Perception, may remember after their way, the things that have made an Impression in their Brain;See the Illustra [...]ions upon the Intellectual Memory and Habits than to conceive how they are capable of acquiring different Habits; and after what I have explain'd concerning the Habits, I see no greater difficulty to represent to a Man's self, how the Members of their Body procure different Habits by degrees; than how an Engine newly made, cannot so easily be play'd, as after it has been some time made use of.

CHAP. VI.

I. That the Fibres of the Brain are not subject to so sudden Changes, as the Spirits. II. Three different Changes incident to the three different Ages.

ALL the Parts of Animate Bodies are in a continual Motion, whether they be Solid,I. That the Fibres of the Brain are not subject to so sudden Changes, as the Spirits. or Fluid, the Flesh no less than the Blood: There is only this difference between the Motion of one and the other, that the Motion of the parts of the Blood is sensible and visible, and that the Particles of the Fibres of our Flesh are altogether Imperceptible. There is then this difference between the Animal Spirits, and the Substance of the Brain; That the Animal Spirits are very rapidly mov'd, and very fluid, but the Substance of the Brain has some Solidity and Consistence. So that the Spirits divide themselves, into little Parts, and are dispers'd in a few Hours, by transpiring through the Pores▪ of the Vessels that contain them; and others often succeed in their Place, not altogether like the former: But the Fibres of the Brain are not so easie to be dissipated, there seldom happen any considerable Alterations in them; and their whole Substance can't be chang'd, but by the successive tract of many Years.

The most considerable Differences, that are found in the Brain of one and the same Person, during his whole Life, are in his Infancy, in his Maturity, and in his Old Age.

The Fibres in the Brain in a Man's Child-hood, are soft, flexible and delicate:II. Three considerable Changes which happen in the Three different Ages of Man. A Riper and more consummate Age dries, hardens, and corroborates them; but in Old Age, they grow altogether inflexible, gross, and intermix'd with superfluous Humours, wich the faint and languishing Heat of that Age is no longer able to disperse. For as we see that the Fibres which compose the Flesh, harden by Time, and that the Flesh of a young Partridge is without dispute more tender, than that of an old one; so the Fibres of the Brain of a Child, or a young Person must be much more soft and delicate, than those of Persons more advanc'd in Years.

We shall understand the Ground and the Reason of these Changes, if we consider that the Fibres are continually agitated by the Animal Spirits; which whirl about them in many different manners. For as the Winds parch and dry the Earth by their blowing upon it, so the Animal Spirits by their perpetual Agitation, render by degrees, the greatest part of the Fibres of Man's Brain, more dry, more close and solid; so that Persons more stricken in Age, must necessarily have them almost always more inflexible, than those of a lesser standing. And as for those who are of the same Age, your Drunkards, which for many Years together have drank to excess, either Wine or such Intoxicating Liquors, must needs have them more solid and more inflexible, than those who have abstain'd from the use of such kind of Liquors all their Lives.

Now the different Constitutions of the Brain in Children, in Adult Persons, and in Old People, are very considerable Causes of the Difference observable in the Imaginative Faculty of these Three Ages, which we are going to speak of in the following Chapters.

CHAP. VII.

[Page]

I. Of the Communication there is between the Brain of a Mother, and that of her Infant. II. Of the Communication that is between our Brain, and the other Parts of our Body, which inclines us to Imitation, and to Compassion. III. An Explication of the Generation of Monstrous Children, and the Propagation of the Species. IV. An Explication of some Irregularities of the Vnderstanding, and of some Inclinations of the Will. V. Concerning Concupiscence, and Original Sin. VI. Objections and Answers.

IT is, I think, sufficiently manifest that there is some kind of Tye and Connection between us, and all the rest of the World; and that we have some Natural Relations to, or Correspondencies with all things that encompass us: which Relations are very advantagious, both as to the Preservation, and welfare of our Lives. But all these Relations are not equally binding; There is a closer Connection betwixt us and our Native Country, than China; we have a nearer Relation to the Sun, than to any of the Stars; to our own Houses, than that of our Neighbours: There are invisible Ties, that fasten us with a stricter Union unto Men, than Beasts; to our Relations and Friends, than Strangers; to those on whom we have our Dependence for the Preservation of our Being, than to such as can neither be the Objects of our Hopes or Fears.

That which is more especially remarkable in this Natural Union, betwixt us and other Men, is, That it is so much greater, by how much we stand more in need of their Kindness, or Assistance. Relations and Friends are intimately united to one another: We may say that their Pains and Miseries are common, as well as their Pleasures and Happiness; For all the Passions and Sentiments of our Friends, are communicated to us by the Impression their Mein, and Manner, and the Air of their Countenance make upon us: But because we may absolutely live without them, the Natural Union betwixt them and us is not the greatest that is possible.

I. Of the Communication that is between the Brain of the Mother, and that of her Infant.Children in their Mother's Womb, whose Bodies are not yet compleatly form'd, and who are of themselves in a state of the greatest Weakness, Impotency, and Want, that can possibly be conceiv'd, ought to be united likewise to their Mothers in the strictest manner imaginable. And though their Soul be separate from that of their Mothers, yet since their Body is not loos'd, and disengaged from her's, it ought to be concluded, they have the same Sentiments and the same Passions; in a word, all the same Thoughts as are excited in the Soul, on occasion of the Motions which are produc'd in the Body.

Thus Infants see what their Mothers see, they hear the same Cries, they receive the same Impressions of Objects, and are agitated with the same Passions. For since the Air of the Face of a Man in a Passion, pierces those which look upon him, and Naturally impresses in them a Passion resembling that with which he is possess'd, though the Union of that Man with those that consider him, be not very great and binding; one would think there were good Reason, to believe the Mothers capable of imprinting on their Infants all the same Sentiments they are touch'd with, and all the same Passions themselves are acted withal. For, in short, the Body of an Infant in the Womb, is all of a piece with the Body of the Mother; the Blood and the Spirits are common to them both; the Sensations and Passions are the Natural Result and Consequents of the Motions of the Blood and Spirits, and these Motions are necessarily communicated from the Mother to the Child: Therefore the Passions and Sensations, and generally all the Thoughts occasion'd by the Body, are common to the Mother and the Child.

These things seem to me beyond exception true, for several Reasons; which yet I advance not here but as a Supposition, which I think will be sufficiently demonstrated by what follows: For every Supposition that can stand the shock of all the Difficulties possible to be rais'd against it, and repel them; ought to pass for an indisputable Principle.

The invisible Bonds and Cements wherewith the Author of Nature has united all his Works, are worthy of the Wisdom of GOD, and the Admiration of Men; there is nothing in the World at once more surprizing and instructing than this; but we are too inconsiderate to regard it. We leave our selves to be conducted, without considering who conducts us, or how he does it: Nature is conceal'd from our Eyes,II. Of the Communication between our Brain, and the other Parts of our Body, which incline us to Imitation and Compassion. as well as its Author; and we feel the Motions that are produc'd in us, without considering from what Springs they are: And yet there are few things more necessary to be known by us; since upon the Knowledge of them it is, that the Explication of all things relating to Man, depends.

There are certainly in our Brain some secret Springs and Movements, which naturally incline us to Imitation; for this is necessary to Civil Society. It is not only necessary for Children to believe their Fathers; for Disciples to believe their Masters; and Inferiours, their Superiours: It is moreover necessary, that all Men should be inclinable to take up the like Exteriour Manners, and to do the same Actions, as those with whom they mean to live. For to the intent that Men should have a Connexion and Dependance on each other, 'tis necessary they come near to one [Page] another in the Characters hoth of Body and Mind. This is the Fundamental Principle of Abundance of things we shall treat of in the following Discourse: But as to what we have to say in this Chapter, it is farther necessary to know, that there are in the Brain some Natural Dispositions, which incline us to Compassion, as well as to Imitation.

It ought to be known then, That the Animal Spirits do not only Naturally convey themselves into the Parts of our Body, for the performing the same Actions, and the same Motions which we see others do; but farther, for the Receiving, after a manner, their Hurts and Injuries, and participating of their Miseries, For Experience teaches us, that when we very attentively consider a Man violently struck, or dangerously wounded, the Spirits impetuously hasten to the Parts of our Body correspondent to those we see wounded in another, provided we turn not the current of them another way, by a voluntary and forcible Titillation of a different Part from that which we see hurt or wounded: Or that the Natural Course of the Spirits towards the Heart and Viscerous parts, which is usual in sudden Commotions, changes not the Determination of the Flux of the Spirits we are speaking of, and hurries them along with them: Or lastly, unless some extraordinary Connection of the Traces of the Brain, with the motions of the Spirits, effects the same thing.

This Translation of the Spirits into the Parts of our Body, which are Analogous to those we see injuriously treated in others, makes a very sensible Impression on Persons of a fine and delicate Constitution, who have a lively Imagination, and very soft and tender Flesh. For they feel, for instance, a kind of shivering or trembling in their Legs, by an attentive beholding any one that has a Sore there, or actually receives a blow in them.

(For a confirmation of this, take what a Friend of mine wrote to me to the same purpose. An Old Gentleman that liv'd with one of my Sisters, being sick, a Young Maid held the Candle whil'st he was Blooded in the Foot: But as she saw the Surgeon strike in the Lancet, she was seiz'd with such an Apprehension, as to feel three or four days afterwards such a piercing Pain in the same part of her Foot, as forc'd her to keep her Bed all that time.)

The Reason whereof is this, That the Spirits impetuously diffuse themselves into these parts of our Body; that by keeping them more intense, they may render them more Sensible to the Soul; and may put her upon her guard, and make her solicitous to avoid those Evils which we behold in others.

This Compassion in Bodies produces another Compassion in Minds: It induces us to Condole and Comfort others in their Troubles, because in so doing, we Comfort and Solace our selves: In fine, it gives a check to our Malice and Cruelty. For the horrour of Blood, and the fear of Death, in a word, the sensible impression of Compassion often prevents those Persons from Butchering beasts, who are the most convincingly perswaded they are meer Machines: Because a great many Men are unable to Kill them, without Wounding themselves by a Repercussive stroke of Compassion.

But that which here is most especially remarkable, is, That the Sensible View of a Wound receiv'd by another, produces in those which behold it, a so much greater Wound, as their Constitution is more weak and delicate: Because that sensible View impetuously throwing the Animal Spirits into the Parts of the Body, which are correspondent to those they see hurt or wounded, they must needs make a greater Impression in the Fibres of a tender and delicate Body, than in those of a more strong and robust Complection.

Thus Men who abound with Strength and Vigour, are not at all hurt with the sight of a Massacre; nor so much inclin'd to Compassion, because the sight of it is an offence to their Body, as because it shocks their Reason: These Persons have no Pity for a Condemned Criminal, as being both Inflexible and Inexorable; Whereas Women and Children suffer much Pain by the Hurt and Wounds they see receiv'd by others. They are machinally dispos'd, to be very Pitiful and Compassionate to the Miserable. And they are unable to see a Beast beaten, or hear it cry, without some disturbance of mind.

As for Infants which are still in their Mother's Womb, the delicacy of the Fibres of their Flesh infinitely exceeding that of Women and Children, the Course of their Spirits must necessarily produce more considerable Changes in them, as will be seen in the Sequel of the Discourse.

We will still suffer what we have said to go for a simple Supposition, if Men will have it so. But they ought to endeavour well to comprehend it, if they would distinctly conceive the things I presume to explain in this Chapter. For these two Suppositions I have just made, are the Principles of an infinite number of things, which are generally believ'd very difficult and abstruse. And which indeed seem impossible to be explain'd and clear'd up without them. I will here give some instances of what I have said.

It was about seven or eight Years ago, that there was seen in the Incurable, III. An Explication of the Generation of Monstrous Children, and the Propagation of the Species. a young Man who was born an [...]Idiot, and whose Body was broken in the same places that Malefactors are broken on the Wheel. He lived near twenty Years in the same condition: many Persons went to see him; and the late Queen-mother going to visit the Hospital, had the Curiosity to see him, and also to touch his Legs and Arms, in the places were they were broken.

According to the Principles I have been establishing, the cause of this Calamitous Accident was, That his Mother hearing a Criminal was to be broken, went to see the Execution.

[Page] According to the first Supposition. All the blows which were given to the Condemned, struck violently the Imagination of the Mother; and by a kind of Repercussive blow, the tender and delicate Brain of her Infant. The Fibres of this Mother's Brain receiv'd a prodigious Concussion, and were possibly broke in some places, by the violent course of the Spirits, produc'd at the Sight of so frightful a Spectacle. But they had Consistency enough to prevent their total Dissolution. The Fibres, on the contrary, of the Infant's Brain not being able to resist the furious torrent of these Spirits, were broke and shattered all to pieces. And the havock was violent enough to make him lose his Intellect for ever. This is the Reason why he come into the World deprived of Sense. Now for the other, why he was broken in the same parts of his Body as the Criminal, whom his Mother had seen put to Death.

At the Sight of this Execution, so capable of dismaying a timorous Woman, the violent course of the Animal Spirits of the Mother, made a forcible descent from her Brain, towards all the Members of her Body, which were Analogous to those of the Criminal, and According to the second Su [...] position. the same thing happened to the Infant. But because the Bones of the Mother were capable of withstanding the violent Impression of these Spirits, they receiv'd no dammage by them; it may be too she felt not the least Pain, nor the least Trembling in her Arms or Legs, upon the Breaking of the Criminal: But the rapid course of the Spirits was capable of bursting the soft and tender parts of the Infant's Bones. For the Bones are the last parts of the Body that are form'd; and they have very little Consistence, whilst Children are yet in their Mother's Womb. And it ought to be observ'd, that if this Mother had determin'd the Motion of these Spirits, towards some other part of her Body, by some powerful Titillation, her Infant would have escaped the Fracture of his Bones. But the part which was correspondent to that, towards which the Mother had determined these Spirits, would have been severely injured; according to what I have already said.

The Reasons of this Accident are general enough, to explain how it comes to pass that Women, who whilst big with Child, see Persons particularly mark'd in certain places of their Face, imprint on their Infants the very same Marks, and in the self-same places of the Body. And 'tis not without good Reason, that they are caution'd to rub some latent part of the Body, when they perceive any thing which surprises them; or are agitated with some violent Passion. For by this means, the Marks will be delineated rather upon the hidden parts, than the Faces of their Infants.

We should have frequent Instances of like Nature with this I have here related, if Infants could live after they had receiv'd so great Wounds or Disruptions; but generally they prove Abortions: For it may be said that rarely any Child dies in the Womb, if the Mother be not distemper'd, that has any other cause of its ill fortune, than some fright or impotent Desire, or other violent Passion of the Mother. This following is another Instance, very unusual and particular.

It is no longer than a Year ago, that a Woman, having with too great an Application of Thought, contemplated the Picture of St. Pius, at the Celebration of his Feast of Canonization, was deliver'd of a Child perfectly featur'd like the Representation of the Saint. He had the Countenance of an Old Man, as near as was possible for an Infant that was beardless. His Arms were folded across upon his Breast; His Eyes bent up towards Heaven, and had very little Forehead, because the Picture of the Saint, being postur'd as looking up to Heaven, and elevated towards the Roof of the Church, had scarce any Fore-head to be seen: He had a kind of Mitre reclining backwards on his Shoulders, with many round prints in the places, where the Mitres are imboss'd with Precious Stones. In short, this Infant was the very Picture of the Picture, upon which the Mother had form'd it, by the force of her Imagination. This is a thing that all Paris might have seen as well as I, since it was a considerable time preserv'd in Spirit of Wine.

This instance has This remarkable in it, That it was not the Sight of a Man alive, and acted with some violent Passion, that mov'd the Spirits and Blood of the Mother to the Production of so strange an Effect; but only the sight of a Picture; which yet made a very sensible Impression, and was accompanied with a mighty Commotion of Spirits, whether by the Fervency and Application of the Mother; or whether by the Agitation, the noise of the Feast caus'd in her.

This Mother then beholding the Picture with great Application of Mind, and Commotion of Spirits, the Infant, according to the first Supposition, saw it with the like Application, and Commotion. The Mother being sensibly smitten imitated the Picture, at least in outward posture; according to the second Supposition: For her Body being compleatly form'd, and the Fibres of her Flesh hard enough to withstand the torrent of the Spirits, she could not possibly imitate it, or become perfectly like it in all things: But the Fibres of the Infant's Flesh, being extreamly soft, and consequently capable of being moulded into any Figure, the rapid course of the Spirits produc'd in his Flesh, all that was necessary to render him entirely like the Image which he saw: And the Imitation, to which Children are the most dispos'd, was almost as perfect as it possibly could be. But this Imitation having given the Body of the Child a shape too extraordinary, was the occasion of its Death.

There are many other Instances to be met with in Authors of the Power of the Mother's Imagination; and there is nothing so odd or extravagant, but they sometimes miscarry of: For they not only bring forth Deform'd and Mis-shapen Children, but the Fruits they have long'd to Eat, as Apples, Pears, Grapes, and the like. The Mother strongly imagining, and impatiently longing to Eat Pears, for instance; the Infant receives the same impatient Longings, and strong Imaginations; [Page] and the current of the Spirits, actuated with the Image of the desir'd Fruit, diffusing it self through the little Body, which by reason of it flexibility and softness, is readily dispos'd for a change of its Figure; the poor Infant is fashion'd in the shape of the thing it too ardently desires. But the Mother suffers not in her Body by it, because it is not soft and plyable enough, to receive the Figure of the thing imagined; and so she cannot imitate, or make her self entirely like it.

Now it ought to be suppos'd that this Correspondence I have been explaining, and which is sometimes the cause of such great Disorders, is an unuseful thing, and an inconvenient Ordinance in Nature. On the contrary, it seems to be very advantagious to the Propagation of an Humane Body, and the Formation of the Foetus; and it is absolutely necessary to the Transmitting several Dispositions of the Brain, which ought to be different at different Seasons, and in different Countries. For it is necessary, for instance, that Lambs in particular Countries, should have their Brain altogether dispos'd for the avoiding and flying Wolves; by reason of their abounding in those places, and being very formidable Creatures to them.

It is true, this Communication between the Mother's and the Infant's Brain, is sometimes attended with unlucky Consequences; when the Mothers suffer themselves to be transported with some outragious Passion. Notwithstanding it seems to me, that without this Communication, Women and other Creatures could not easily Propagate their Young Ones in the same Species. For though some Reason may be given for the Formation of the Foetus in general, as Monsieur Des-Cartes has happily enough attempted; yet it is most difficult, without this Communication of the Mother's Brain with that of the Infant, to explain why a Mare does not produce a Calf, and a Hen an Egg which contains a little Partridge, or some other Bird of a new Species. And I am of opinion, that those who have thought much upon the Formation of the Foetus, will agree in the same Notion.

'Tis true, that the most reasonable Opinion, and that which is most agreeable to Experience, touching that very difficult Question, about the Formation of the Foetus, is this; That Infants are already wholly form'd, even before the Action whereby they are conceiv'd; and that their Mothers only bestow upon them the ordinary Growth, in the time of their being big with them. Nevertheless, this Communication of Animal Spirits, and of the Brain of the Mother, with the Spirits and Brain of the Infant, seems however to be serviceable in regulating this Growth, and determining the parts imploy'd in its Nourishment, to the posturing themselves almost in the same manner, as in the Body of the Mother. That is, in rendring the Infant like to, or of the same Species. This is manifest enough by the Accidents which occur, when the Imagination of the Mother is disordered, and some tempestuous Passion changes the Natural Disposition of her Brain. For then, as we have just explain'd, this Communication alters the Natural Formation of the Infant's Body, and the Mother proves Abortive sometimes of her Foetus, so much more resembling the Fruits she longed for, as the Spirits find less Resistance in the Fibres of the Infant's Body.

We deny not however, but GOD Almighty, without that Communication we have been mentioning, might have dispos'd all things necessary to the Propagation of the Species, for infinite Ages, in so exact and regular a manner, that Mothers should never have miscarried, but have always born Children of the same Bigness and Complection; and perfectly alike in all things. For we ought not to measure the Power of GOD by our weak Imagination; and we are ignorant of the Reasons, which might have determined Him in the Construction of his Work.

We daily see, that without the help and assistance of this Communication, Plants and Trees produce regularly enough their like; and that Birds, and many other Animals, stand in no need of it for the Breeding and Hatching of their Young ones; when they brood upon Eggs of a different Species; as when a Hen sits on the Eggs of a Partridge. For though we have reason to suppose, that the Seeds and Eggs have originally contain'd in them the Plants and Birds, which proceed from them; and that the little Bodies of these Birds may have receiv'd their Conformation, by the Communication before-mentioned; and the Plants have receiv'd their's by another Communication, which is equivalent: yet this perhaps would be but a Conjecture. But though it should be more than Conjecture, yet we ought in no wise to judge by the things which GOD has made, what those are which it is possible for Him to make.

Yet if it be consider'd, that Plants which receive their Growth from the Action of their Mother-plant, resemble it much more, than those which proceed from the Seeds; that the Tulips, for instance, which arise from the Root, are of the same colour with their Mother-Tulip; and that those which are deriv'd from the Seed, are generally very different: It cannot be doubted, but that if the Communication of the generating Plant with the generated, is not absolutely necessary to make it of the same Species; it is always necessary to make it of the same Likeness.

So that, though it were fore-seen by GOD, that this Communication of the Mother's Brain, with the Brain of her Child, would sometimes be the occasion of the Death of the Foetus, and the Generation of Monsters; by reason of the disorderly Imagination of the Mother: Yet this Communication is so admirable, and so necessary, for the Reasons I have alledg'd, and for several others that might still be brought, that the fore-knowledge of these inconveniences ought not to have prevented GOD from executing his Design. It may be affirm'd in one Sense, that GOD had never a Design of making Monsters; for it seems evident to me, that supposing he should make but one Animal, he would never make it Monstrous: But his Design being to produce an admirably contriv'd Work, by the most simple means; and to unite all his Creatures to one another; he fore-saw certain Effects, that would necessarily follow from that Order, and Nature [Page] of Things, and that was not sufficient to make him change his Purpose and Design. For though, in conclusion, a Monster, consider'd disjunctively, be an imperfect Work, yet when conjoyn'd with the rest of the Creation, it renders not the World imperfect.

We have sufficiently explain'd, what the Imagination of a Mother is capable of working, upon the Body of her Child: Let us now examine the influence she has upon his Mind, and let us try to discover the first and topmost irregularities of the Vnderstanding and Will of Men in their Original. For this is our main and principal Design.

IV. An Explication of some Irregularities of the Vnderstanding, and Inclinations of the Will.'Tis certain that the Traces of the Brain are accompany'd with Sensations, and Idea's of the Soul; and that the Motions of the Animal Spirits are never excited in the Body, but there are Motions in the Soul correspondent to them. In a word, it is certain that all the Corporeal Passions and Sensations, are attended with real Sensations and Passions of the Soul. Now, according to our first Supposition, Mothers communicate to their Children the Traces of their Brain, and consequently the Motions of their Animal Spirits. Therefore they breed in the Mind of their Infants the same Sensations and Passions themselves are affected with, and consequently corrupt their Moral and Intellectual Capacity several ways.

If it be so common for Children to bear imprinted in their Faces the Marks, or Traces of the Idea, that made an impression on their Mother; though the Cutaneous Fibres make a stronger resistance to the current of the Spirits, than the soft and tender parts of the Brain, and the Spirits are in a greater Agitation in the Brain, than towards the Surface of the Body; it can't be reasonably doubted, but the Animal Spirits of the Mother produce in the Brain of their Children many Tracks and Footsteps of their disorderly Motions. Now the great Traces of the Brain, and the Emotions of the Spirits answering to them, being a long time preserv'd, and sometimes for the whole course of a Man's Life; it is plain, that as there are few Women but have their Weaknesses and Failings, and are disturb'd with some Passion or other during the Season of their Breeding, there must needs be but few Children, but what bring into the World with them, a Mind some way or other preposterously fram'd, and are born Slaves to some domineering Passion.

We have but too frequent Experience of these things, and all Men know well enough, that there are whole Families subject to great Weaknesses of Imagination, which have been hereditarily transmitted from their Ancestors. But it would be unnecessary here to give particular instances. On the contrary, it is more expedient for the Consolation of some Persons to affirm, that these Infirmities of their Fore-fathers, being not Natural, or essential to the Nature of Man, the Traces and Impresses of the Brain, which were the cause of them, may by degrees wear out, and in time be quite effac'd.

Yet it will not be amiss to relate here an Instance of James I. King of England, which is mention'd by Sir Kenelm Digby, in his Book that he publish'd concerning Sympathetick Powder. He asserts in that Book, that Mary Stuart being big with King James, some Scotch Lords rush'd into her Chamber, and kill'd her Secretary, who was an Italian, before her Face, though she interpos'd her self between them, to prevent the Assassination; that this Princess receiv'd some slight hurts; and that the Fright she was put into, made such deep impressions in her Imagination, as were communicated to the Infant she bore in her Womb; insomuch that King James, her Son, was unable all his Life to behold a naked Sword: He says he experimentally knew it, at the time he was Knighted. For the King, when he should have laid the Sword upon his Shoulder, run it directly against his Face, and had wounded him with it, if some one had not guided it to the proper place. There are so many Examples of this kind, that it would be needless to turn over Authors for them: And, I believe, there is no body will dispute the truth of these things. For, in short, we see very many Persons, that can't endure the sight of a Rat, a Mouse, a Cat, or a Frog, and especially creeping Creatures, as Snakes, and Serpents; and who know no other Reason of these their extraordinary Aversions, than the Fears their Mothers were put in, by these several Creatures at the time of their going with Child.

But that which I would above all have observ'd upon this subject, is, That there are all appearances imaginable of Men's preserving to this day in their Brain the Traces and Impressions of their first Parents.V. An Explication of Concupiscence, and Original Sin. For, as Animals produce others that are like them, and with the like impresses in their Brain; which are the Cause that Animals of the same Species have the same Sympathies and Antipathies, and perform the same Actions, at the same junctures, and the like occasions: So our First Parents, after their Sin, receiv'd such great Prints and deep Traces in their Brain, through the impression of sensible Objects, as might easily have been communicated to their Children. Insomuch that the great Adhe [...]ion which is found in us from our Mother's Womb, to sensible Objects, and the great distance betwixt us and GOD, in this our imperfect state, may, in some measure, be accounted for, by what we have been saying.

For since there is a necessity, from the establish'd Order of Nature, that the Thoughts of the Soul should be conformable to the Traces of the Brain; we may affirm, that from the time of our Formation in our Mother's Belly, we are under Sin, and stain'd with the Corruption of our Parents; since we Date from thence our vehement Application to sensible Pleasures. Having in our Brain the like Characters and Impresses, with those Persons who gave us Being; we must necessarily have the same Thoughts and the same Inclinations, with respect to Sensible Objects.

[Page]And thus we must come into the World with Concupiscence about us, and infected with Original Sin: We must be born with Concupiscence, if Concupiscence be nothing but a Natural Effort made by the Traces of the Brain upon the Mind, to unite it to things sensible: And we must be born with Original Sin, if Original Sin be nothing but the Reign of Concupiscence, Rom. Ch. 6.5.12, 14, &c. and that Effort grown as it were victorious, and Master of the Infant's Heart and Mind. Now there is great probability, that this Reign or Victory of Concupiscence is what we call Original Sin in Infants, and Actual Sin in Men that have liberty of Acting.

It only seems as if one might conclude, from the Principles I have establish'd,VI. Objections and Answers. a thing repugnant to Experience; to wit, that the Mother must always communicate to her Infant Habits and Inclinations like those she has her self, and the facility of Imagining, and learning the same things she understands; For all these things depend only as have been said on the Traces and Impresses of the Brain. And it is certain, that the Traces and Impresses of the Mother's Brain are communicated to her Children. This has been Experimentally prov'd by the Instances that have been related concerning Men; and has been farther confirm'd from the Example of Animals, whose young ones have their Brain fill'd with the same Impresses as those they proceeded from. Which is the Reason that all those of the same Species have the same Voice, the same way of moving their Limbs, in short, the same Stratagems for seizing their Prey, and of defending themselves against their Enemies. From hence it must follow, that since all the Traces of the Mother are engraven and imprinted on the Brain of the Child, the Child must be born with the same Habits and the other Qualities of the Mother: And also must preserve them generally through the course of his Life; since the Habits which have been contracted in our more tender Age, are more lasting than the other; which notwithstanding contradicts Experience.

In Answer to this Objection, we must understand that there are two kinds of Traces in the Brain: The one Natural, or peculiar to the Nature of Man; the other Acquired. The Natural are Extraordinary deep, and 'tis impossible they should be quite effaced. The Acquired, on the contrary, may be easily lost; because ordinarily they are not so deep. Now though the Natural and Acquired differ only in Degree of more or less, and often the former are less forcible than the latter, since we daily accustom Animals to the doing those things, which are quite contrary to those their Natural Traces lead them to: (A Dog, for instance, has been train'd up not to touch the Bread before him; and not to pursue a Partridge, which he is in scent and sight of) Yet there is this Difference between these Traces; that the Natural are, as one may say, connected with imperceptible Ties to the other parts of our Body. For all the Wheels and Contrivances of our Machine are assistant to each other, to their continuing in their Natural state. All the parts of our Body mutually contribute to all things necessary to the Preservation or Restauration of these Natural Traces; thus they can never be wholly abolish'd; and they begin to revive again, when we thought them quite destroy'd.

On the contrary, the Acquired Traces, though greater, and deeper, and stronger than the Natural, are lost, and vanish by degrees; unless care be taken to preserve them, by a perpetual application of the Causes which produce them: because the other parts of the Body lend no assistance to their Preservation, but contrariwise, continually labour to expunge and blot them out. We may compare these Traces to the ordinary wounds of a Body: they are hurts which our Brain has receiv'd which close up of themselves, as other wounds do, by the Admirable Construction of the Machine.

As then there is nothing in the whole Body, but what is friendly and conformable to these Natural Traces; they are delivered down to the Children in all their force and strength. Thus Parrots breed their young with the same cries and the same Natural Notes with themselves. But because the Acquired Traces are only in the Brain, and make no Radiations into the rest of the Body, or very little, (as suppose, when they are imprest on it by the Motions which accompany violent Passions) they ought not to be transmitted to their Infants. Thus a Parrot, who bids his Master Good Morrow and Good Night, produces not a Young one so expert as himself; nor do Men of Sense and Learning beget Children answerable to their Fathers.

So that though it be true, that all that happens in the Mother's Brain happens likewise at the same time in the Brain of her Infant; and that the Mother can neither see, nor feel, nor imagine, but the Infant must see, and feel, and imagine the same thing: And lastly, that all the illegitimate Traces of the Mother, Corrupt the Imagination of the Child; yet these Traces being not Natural, in the Sense we have just explain'd it; 'tis no wonder if they usually close up as soon as the Child proceeds from the Mother's Womb. For then the Cause which delineated these Traces, and fed and nourish'd them, subsists no longer; the Natural Constitution of the whole Body lends an hand to their Destruction; and Sensible Objects produce a new Set extraordinary deep and numerous, which efface the greatest part of those the Child had in its Mother's Womb. For it daily happening that a great Pain makes us forgetful of those that have preceded it; 'tis not imaginable but such lively Sensations, as are those of Infants, when first the delicate Organs of their Senses receive the Impressions of External objects, must destroy the greatest part of those Traces, which they only receiv'd before from the same Objects, by a kind of rebound from their Mother, when they lay as it were sheltred from them by the inclosing of the Womb.

Notwithstanding, when these Traces are form'd upon a strong Passion, and are accompany'd with a most violent Agitation of the Blood and Spirits in the Mother, they act so forcibly on the Brain of the Child, and the rest of its Body, as to imprint therein Characters as deep and durable as the Natural Traces. As in the instance of Sir Kenelm Digby, in that of the Child who was born [Page] an Ideot and a Cripple; in whose Brain and all his Members such ravage was made, by the Imagination of the Mother; and lastly, in the instance of the general Corruption of the Nature of Mankind.

And we need not wonder, that the King of England's Children were not subject to the same Infirmity as their Father: First, Because this sort of Traces diffuse not their Impression so far into the Body as the Natural. Secondly, Because the Mother having not the same Infirmity as the Father, by her good Constitution prevented its descending to her Children. And lastly, Because the Mother acts infinitely more on the Brain of the Child, than the Father, as is evident from what has been already said.

But it must be observ'd, That all these Reasons which shew that King James's Children might escape the Infirmity of their Father, make nothing against the Explication of Original Sin; or of that predominant Inclination towards things sensible: nor of that great Alienation from GOD, which we derive from our Parents: because the Traces which sensible Objects have imprinted on the Brain of the first Founders of Mankind, were stamp'd extreamly deep; were accompanied and augmented with violent Passions; were fortified and corroborated by the continual use of things sensible and necessary to the Preservation of Life; not only in Adam and Eve; but also, which is very remarkable, in the greatest Saints; in all Men, and in all Women, from whom we are descended. So that there is nothing which could put a stop to this Corruption of our Nature. And thus it is so far from being possible for these Traces of our First Parents to wear out by Degrees; that on the contrary, they must needs be continually renewing and increasing; and without the Grace of JESVS CHRIST, which is continually opposing this unruly tor [...]ent, it would be absolutely true to say in the words of an Heathen Poet:

Aetas parentum, pejor avis, tulit

Nos nequiores, mox daturos

Progeniem vitiosiorem.

For great notice should be taken, that the traces which quicken the most Devout Mothers with the sentiments of Piety, communicate not any Piety to the Children in their Womb; and that the Traces, on the other hand, which excite the Idea's of Sensible things, and which are pursued with Passions, fail not to communicate to their Children the Sensation, and love of Sensible things. A Mother, for example, who is stirr'd up to the love of GOD, by a Motion of Spirits, accompanying the Traces which the Image of a Venerable Old Man occasions in her Brain; because this Mother has affix'd the Idea of GOD to the Trace of an Old Man; (for as we shall shortly see in the Chapter concerning the Connection of Idea's, this may easily be done, though there is no Analogy at all betwixt the Image of GOD and an Old Man) This Mother, I say, can only produce in the Brain of her Infant the Trace of an Old Man; and an Inlination for Old Men; which is not the love of GOD, wherewith she was her self affected. For, in fine, there are no Traces in the Brain that can naturally excite any other Idea's, than those of Sensible things: because the Body was not made to instruct the Mind, and it never speaks to the Soul but in its own favour and behalf.

Thus a Mother, whose Brain is fill'd with Traces, which by their own Nature correspond to Sensible things, and which cannot be extirpated by reason of Concupiscence abiding in her; and because she has not her Body in subjection, by an un-avoidable Communication of them to her Infant, she brings forth a Sinner, though her self be Righteous. This Mother is Righteous, for as much as loving GOD actually, or having lov'd him by a Love of Choice, this Concupiscence makes her not a Criminal, tho' she may follow the Motions of it in her sleep. But the Infant she bears, having not loved GOD by a Love of Choice, and his Heart having never been turn'd towards GOD, 'tis plain he is in disorder, and in a State of Corruption; and that there is nothing in him but what deserves the Wrath of GOD.

But when Children are Regenerated by Baptism, and Justified by a Disposition of Heart, much like that which remains in the Righteous, during the Illusions of the Night: or, it may be, by a Free Act of loving GOD; which act was perform'd whilst they were for some Moments deliver'd from the Dominion of the Body, by the Vertue of the Sacrament. (For since GOD has made their Loving him, to be the end of his Creating them, it cannot be conceiv'd how they can be actually Justified, and in the Divine Order; unless they actually love him, or have formerly loved him, or at least have such a Disposition of Heart as they would have if they had actually loved him) Then though they obey Concupiscence in their Infancy, their Concupiscence is no longer Sin. It renders them not culpable, nor deserving of the Wrath of GOD: They fail not to be Righteous and Acceptable to GOD; by the same reason, that a Man falls not from the State of Grace, though in his sleep he follows the Motions of Concupiscence. For Infants have a Brain so soft and pliable, and receive so lively and so strong Impressions from Objects never so weak; that they have not Liberty of Mind sufficient to resist them.

But I have insisted too long upon things, which do not properly belong to the Subject of my Discourse. 'Tis enough, if I can conclude from the Explication I have given in this Chapter, that all those Spurious Traces which Mothers imprint in the Brain of their Children, adulterate their Minds,Se the Illustrations. and corrupt their Imaginations. And thus the generality of Men are wont to Imagine things otherwise than they are, by giving some false colour, and some irregular stroke to the Idea's of things which they perceive.

CHAP. VIII.

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I. The Changes which happen in the Imagination of an Infant after his Birth, by his accompanying with his Mother, his Nurse and other Persons. II. Some Instructions for their good Education.

IN the preceding Chapter we have considered the Brain of an Infant in his Mother's Womb, let us at present examine what Changes it is subject to after his Departure from it. At the same time that he quits his darksome Habitation, and first beholds the Light, the cold of the Exteriour Air takes hold of him: the tenderest Embraces of the Woman that receives him, are offensive to his nice and delicate Body: All External Objects round about astonish and confound him: they are all occasions of his fears, since he does not as yet know them, nor is in a capacity of resisting or avoiding them. His Tears and Cries wherewith he bemoans himself, are infallible Indications of his Pains and Fears. For these are in effect the Supplications which Nature makes to the Assistants for him, that they would deliver him from the Evils that he suffers, and from those he is apprehensive of.

But the better to conceive what confusion his Mind is under in this condition,I. The Changes which happen in the Imagination of an Infant after his Birth, by his accompanying with his Mother, his Nurse and other Persons. it must be remembred that the Fibres of his Brain are most soft and tender, and consequently that all External Objects make most profound Impressions on them. For since the least things are often capable of hurting a weak Imagination, such a multitude of surprizing Objects cannot fail to wound and embroil that of a new born Child.

But to form a more lively Imagination of the Perturbations and Pains, Children are expos'd to at their Coming into the World, and the wounds their Imagination must receive; Let us represent to our selves, what astonishment would seize those Men, who should see at some small distance Giants five or six times as tall as themselves approaching towards them without knowing any thing of their Design. Or should they behold some new Species of Animals, that had no Analogy to any that they had already seen, or if only a Flying Horse, or some other Chimera of our Poets should, descending from the Clouds on a sudden, light upon the Earth. What deep strokes would these Prodigies leave in the Mind, and how would they perplex and confound the Brain, though at a single View?

It daily happens that an unexpected Event, that has any thing terrible in its circumstances, deprives of their Senses, Men of a Mature Age, whose Brain is not so susceptible of new Impressions, who are experienc'd in the World, who can make a Defence, or at least are capable of taking up some Resolution. Children at their first Arrival in the World, suffer something from every Object that strikes upon their Senses, wherewith they are not yet acquainted. All the Animals they see, are Creatures of a new Species on their Regard, since nothing of what they see at present was ever seen by them before. They are destitute of Strength, and void of Experience; the Fibres of their Brain are of a most fine and flexible temper. How then is it possible their Imagination should continue whole, when expos'd to the Impressions of so many different Objects?

'Tis true the Mothers have somewhat pre-accustomed their Children to the Impressions of Objects, by having already imprinted them in the Fibres of their Brain before they left the Womb; and this is the reason they receive much less damage when they behold with their own Eyes, what they in some manner have perceived already with their Mother's. 'Tis farther true that these adulterate Traces and wounds, their Imagination receives upon the sight of so many Objects, to them frightful and terrible, close up and heal again in time; for as much as being unnatural, the whole Body is against them, and all the parts conspire to their Destruction, as has been seen in the preceding Chapter. And this is the cause that all Men in general are not Fools from their Cradles. But this hinders not but that there may be ever some Traces so strong and deep impress'd as can never be effac'd, but will remain as long as Life it self.

If Men would make serious Reflections upon what happens in their own Breast, and contemplate their own Thoughts, they would not want an Experimental Proof of what I have said. They would generally discover in themselves some secret Inclinations and Aversions, which are not in others, whereof there seems no other Reason to be given than these Traces of our Infancy. For since the causes of these Inclinations and Aversions are peculiar to us, they have no foundation in the Nature of Men; and since they are unknown to us, they must needs have acted on us at a time, when our Memory was not yet capable of registring the circumstances of things, which might have assisted us in calling them again to Mind; and that time could be only that of our tenderest Age.

Monsieur Des-Cartes has acquainted us in one of his Epistles, that he had always a particular fancy for all Squint-ey'd People; and having diligently search'd into the Cause of it, at length understood this Defect was incident to a young Maid he lov'd, when he was a Child; the Affection he retained for her diffusing it self to all others that any way resembled her.

But 'tis not these little irregularities of our Inclinations which subject us most to Error, 'Tis our having universally, or almost universally, our Mind adulterate in something or other, and our being generally subject to some kind of Folly, though perhaps we are not aware of it. Let a Man [Page] but examine carefully the Temper of those People he converses with, and he will easily be perswaded into this Opinion, and though himself be an Original for others to Copy after, and be look'd upon as such; yet he will find all others to be Originals too, and all the difference to consist in the Degree of more or less.

Now one of the Causes of the different Characters of Mens Minds, is doubtless the difference of Impressions received by them in their Mother's Womb, as has been manifested touching peculiar and unusual Inclinations: because these being Species of Folly, that are settled and permanent for the most part, they cannot have their Dependence on the Constitution of the Animal Spirits, which is of a flux and alterable Nature. And consequently they must needs proceed from the Base and Spurious Impressions made in the Fibres of the Brain, at such time as our Memory was incapable of preserving the Remembrance of them, that is in the beginning of our Lives, Here then is one of the commonest Causes of the Errors of Mankind; I mean that Subversion of their Brain, caused by the Impression of External Objects, in making their Entrance into the World; and this Cause does not so suddenly cease, as may be possibly imagined.

The ordinary Commerce Children are oblig'd to have with their Nurses, or even with their Mothers that frequently have had no Education, puts the last hand, and gives the finishing stroke to the corruption of their Mind. These silly Women entertain them with nothing but Fooleries, with ridiculous Tales, and frightful Stories: Their whole Discourse to them is about things sensible; and they deliver it in a way most proper to confirm them in the false Judgments of their Senses. In a word, they sow in their Minds the Seeds of all the Follies and Weaknesses themselves are subject to; as of their extravagant Fears and Apprehensions, their ridiculous Superstitions, and other the like Feeblesses of Mind. Which is the Reason, that not being accustomed to search for Truth, nor to taste and relish it, they at last become incapable of discerning it, and of making any use of their Reason. Hence they become timerous and low-spirited, which Temper for a long time sticks by them: For there are many to be seen, who when fifteen or twenty Years old, retain the Character and Spirit of their Nurse.

'Tis true, Children seem not to be greatly qualified for the Contemplation of Truth, and for abstract and sublime Sciences: because the Fibres of their Brain being extreamly fine, are most easily agitated by Objects, even the most weak, and least sensible that can be; and their Soul necessarily admitting Sensations proportioned to the Agitation of these Fibres, leaves Metaphysical Nations, and pure Intellection, to apply her self wholly to her Sensations. And thus Children seem improper for, and incapable of an attentive Application to the pure Idea's of Truth, being so frequently and so easily drawn off, by the confus'd Idea's of their Senses.

Yet in Answer to this it may be said: First, that 'tis easier for a Child of seven Years old, to be freed from the Errors his Senses lead him to, than for a Man at sixty, who all his Life long has been mis-guided by the prejudices of Childhood: Secondly, that a Child, though incapable of the clear and distinct Idea's of Truth, is at least capable of being admonish'd, that his Senses deceive him upon all occasions: and if he cannot be taught the Truth, he should not however be encouraged and fortified in his Errors: Lastly, the youngest Children, though never so taken up with Pleasant and Painful Sensations, yet learn in little time, what Persons more advanc'd in Years cannot in much longer; as the Knowledge of the Order and Relations, which all the things and words, they see and hear, stand in to one another. For though these things depend mostly on the Memory, yet 'tis very evident they make great use of their Reason, in the manner of their Learning their Language.

But since that Aptness and Facility there is in the Fibres of a Child's Brain, to receive the Pathetick Impressions of sensible Objects,II. Instructions for the good Education of Children. is the cause of our judging them incapable of Speculative Science; it is easie to be redressed. For it must be acknowledg'd, that were the Fears, Desires, and Hopes of Children removed or prevented; were they never caus'd to suffer Pain, and removed as far as possible from their little Pleasures, they might be taught as soon as they could speak, things most difficult and abstract, or at least sensible Mathematicks, Mechanicks, and such like Sciences, as are necessary in the conduct of their Life. But they have but little concern for applying their Minds to abstract Sciences, whilst they are hurried with Desires, or molested with Fears: which is worth while to be well considered.

For as a Man of Ambition, who had just lost his Estate or Honour, or was suddenly rais'd to an unexpected Preferment, would not be in a Capacity of resolving Metaphysical Questions, or Aequations of Algebra; but only to do those things, to which he was influenced by his present Passion: So Children in whose Brain an Apple or a Sugar-plumb makes as deep an Impression, as a great Post, a Title, or Preferment, in that of a Man of Forty Years old; are not qualified to attend to abstracted Truths, that are taught them. So that we may affirm, there is nothing so opposite to Children's Advancement in Science, as those continual Diversions we give them as Rewards, and the Pains we constantly are inflicting, and threatning them withal.

But that which is infinitely more considerable is, that the fears of Correction, and the desires of sensible Gratifications, which fill the Capacity of a Child's Mind, utterly alienate him from the sense of Piety and Religion; Devotion is still more abstract than Science, it has less of the relish of corrupted Nature in it. The Mind of Man is strongly enough inclin'd to Study; but has no Inclination to Piety at all. If then great Agitations will not give us leave to Study, though we Naturally find Pleasure in it; how is it Possible for Children, whose Thoughts are continually intent and busied about sensible Pleasures wherewith they are rewarded, and sensible Pains with which they are affrighted, to preserve amongst all these Avocations a Liberty of Mind to relish the things belonging to Religion?

[Page]The Capacity of the Mind is very strait and limited, 'twill contain but a little furniture; and when once 'tis full, it has no farther room for any Novel Thoughts, unless it empties it self first of the former to receive them. But when the Mind is filled with sensible things, it does not evacuate it self at its Pleasure.

In order to conceive this, it must be considered, that we are all incessantly carried towards Good by our Natural Inclinations; and that Pleasure being the Character whereby we distinguish it from Evil, Pleasure must unavoidably be more our concern and business than all things besides. Pleasure therefore being conjoyn'd to the use of Sensible things, because they are the Goods of the Body of Man, there is a kind of necessity these Goods should fill up the whole extent of our Mind, till GOD diffuses some bitterness upon them, which creates in us a dislike and aversion, by given us, through his Grace, a Sensation of those Heavenly Delights, which extinguish all Earthly Enjoyments; Dando menti Coelestem delectationem, S. August. quâ omnis terrena delectatio superatur.

But because we are as much inclin'd to fly Evil, as to love Good, and Pain is the Character which Nature has affix'd to Evil; all that has been said of Pleasure ought, in a contrary sense, to be understood of Pain.

Seeing therefore the things which make us sensible of Pleasure and Pain, fill the capacity of the Mind; and 'tis not in our Power to quit them, and to be unconcern'd about them, when we wou'd: 'Tis plain that we cannot give Children a relish of Piety (no more than we can any other Men) unless we begin, according to the Precepts of the Gospel, with a Deprivation of all those things which affect the Senses) and promote great Desires and Fears. Since all the Passions obnubilate and extinguish Grace, and that internal Delectation which GOD makes us sensible of in our Duty.

The least Children are instructed with Reason no less than perfect Men, though they want Experience. They have too the same Inclinations, though they are carried by them unto different Objects. They should then be accustomed to follow the conduct of Reason, since they have it in them; and they ought to be excited to their Duty by a dexterous management of their good Inclinations. 'Tis the way to extinguish their Reason, and to debauch their best Inclinations, to hold them to their Duty by sensible Impressions. They seem to be in the performance of their Duty, but they are only so in shew and appearance: Vertue is not at the bottom of their Heart or Mind, their Moral or their Intellectual Part: They know Vertue very little, but they love it much less. Their Minds abound with nothing but Fears and Desires, with Aversions and sensible Fondnesses, which they cannot get rid of, to come to the use of their Liberty and Exercise of their Reason. Thus Children who are Educated in that dis-spirited and slavish manner, grow harden'd by degrees, and become insensible to all the Sentiments of an Honest Man and a Christian; which insensibility cleaves to them all their day. And when they are in hopes of securing themselves from the Lash, by their Authority, or their management; they give themselves up to every thing that flatters their Concupiscence and their Senses; because indeed they know no other Goods than the Goods of the Senses.

It is true, there are some particular Junctures, in which it is necessary to instruct Children by their Senses; but this ought never to be done but where Reason is defective. They ought at first to be perswaded by Reason of what their Duty is; and if they have not Light enough to discover their Obligations to it, it seems best to let them alone for some time. For this would not be to instruct them, to force them upon an External Performance of what they do not conceive their Duty: Since 'tis the Mind which ought to be instructed, and not the Body. But if they refuse to do what Reason tells them they ought to do, they are no longer to be born with: But rather Severity should be used to some excess. For in such Conjunctures,Qui parcit virgae, odit filium suum. Prov. 13.24. He that spares his Son, according to the Wise Man, has a greater degree of hatred than of love for him.

If Chastisements be not instructive to the Mind, nor conducive to the love for Vertue; they instruct, at least, the Body in some measure, and prevent their tasting Vice, and consequently their becoming Slaves to it. But that which is more especially observable, is, That Pains fill not the Capacities of the Mind as Pleasures do. We easily cease to think of them, when we no longer suffer them, and are out of the danger and fear of them. For then they importune not the Imagination; they excite not the Passions, nor provoke Concupiscence. In fine, they leave the Mind at liberty to think of what it pleases; and thus we may discipline Children with them, to keep them in their Duty, or in the Appearance of it.

But though it be sometimes useful to affright and punish Children with sensible Corrections; it ought not to be concluded, that they should be allured by sensible Rewards. There should no means be made use of, that any whit forcibly affect the Senses, but in a case of extreme necessity: Now there can be none of bestowing Sensible Rewards upon them, and representing these Rewards as the End of their Employment. This, on the contrary, would be the means of vitiating their best Actions; and inclining them rather to Sensuality than Vertue. The Traces of Pleasures which they have once tasted, remain strongly imprinted in their Imagination: They continually quicken and awaken the Ideas of Sensible Goods; they constantly excite importunate Desires, which disturb the peace of the Mind. Lastly, They provoke Concupiscence on all occasions, which is the Leaven that corrupts the whole mass. But this is not the place of explaining these things according to their Desert.

The SECOND PART: Concerning The IMAGINATION.

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CHAP. I.

I. Of the Imagination of Women. II. Of the Imagination of Men. III. Of the Imagination of Old Men.

WE have in the First Part, in some measure, explain'd the Physical Causes of the Disorders of Man's Imagination: We shall endeavour in this to make some Application of these Causes to the more general Errors of Imagination, and shall treat likewise of the Causes of these Errors, which may be call'd Moral.

It may be understood from what has been said in the fore-going Chapter, that the Delicacy of the Fibres of the Brain, is one of the principal Causes that disables us, from bringing an Application sufficient for the Discovery of Truths, that lye any whit deep or conceal'd.

This Delicacy of the Fibres is more usually incident to Women; and this is the Principle of their so exact acquaintance with all things that strike upon their Senses.I. Of the Imagination of Women. 'Tis the Woman's Province to determine concerning the Fashions, to judge of Language, to distinguish the genteel Mein, and the fine and courtly Behaviour: They far out-do Men in the Science, Skill, and Dexterity about these things. All that depends upon the Tast falls under their Jurisdiction; but generally they are incapable of Penetrating into Truths that have any Difficulty in the Discovery. All things of an abstracted Nature are Incomprehensible to them. They cannot imploy their Imagination in disentangling compound and perplex'd Questions. Their Consideration terminates on the surface and out-side of things: and their Imagination has neither strength nor reach enough to pierce to the bottom of them, and to make a Comparison of their parts, without Distraction. A Trifle or a Feather shall call them off, the smallest out-cry dismay them, and any little Motion gives them Imployment: In short, the Mode and not the Reality of things, is enough to take up the whole Capacity of their Mind; because the least Objects producing great Motions in the delicate Fibres of their Brain, by a necessary consequence excite such lively and great Sensations in their Souls, as wholly possess and take them up.

But though it be certain, that this Delicacy of the Fibres of the Brain is the principal Cause of all these Effects; yet it is not equally certain, that it is universally to be found in all Women. Or if it be to be found, yet their Animal Spirits are sometimes so exactly proportion'd to the Fibres of their Brain, that there are Women to be met with, who have a greater solidity of Mind than some Men. 'Tis in a certain Temperature of the Largeness and Agitation of the Animal Spirits, and Conformity with the Fibres of the Brain, that the strength of parts consists: And Women have sometimes that just Temperature. There are Women Strong and Constant, and there are Men that are Weak and Fickle. There are Women that are Learned, Couragious, and capable of every thing. And on the contrary, there are Men that are Soft, Effeminate, incapable of any Penetration, or dispatch of any Business. In fine, when we attribute any Failures to a certain Sex, Age, or Condition, they are only to be understood of the generality; it being ever suppos'd, there is no general Rule without Exception.

For it ought not to be imagin'd, that all Men, or all Women of the same Age, Country, or Family, have their Brain of the same Constitution. It is more pertinent to believe, that as there are not two Faces in the World, in every thing resembling one another; so there are not two Imaginations exactly alike: And that all Men, Women, and Children differ from one another, only more or less, in the Delicacy of the Fibres of their Brain. For as we ought not too hastily to suppose an Essential Identity in those things, between which we see no Difference; so we ought not to make Essential Differences, where we cannot find perfect Identity. For these are the common Faults Men usually fall into.

That which may be said of the Fibres of the Brain, is, That in Children they are very soft and extreamly tender; that with Age they harden and corroborate: Yet notwithstanding the generality of Women, and some Men, have them extreamly delicate all their Lives. To determine any thing farther, we dare not. But this is enough to be said of Women and Children, That as they are not concern'd with searching after Truth and the Instruction of others; so their Errors do not occasion much Prejudice; since little credit is given to things by them advanc'd. Let us speak [Page] of Men grown up; of such as have their Mind in its Strength and Vigour; such as may be thought capable of finding out Truth, and teaching it to others.

The ordinary Season for the greatest Perfection of the Mind, is, from the Age of Thirty,II. Of the Imagination of Men in the Perfection of their Age. to that of Fifty Years. The Fibres of the Brain in that Age have usually attain'd a tolerable consistence; the Pleasures and Pains of the Senses make hardly any more Impression on them. So that a Man has no more to do, than to ward off violent Passions, which rarely happen; and from which a Man may screen himself, if he diligently avoid all manner of occasion: And thus the Soul meeting with no more Diversion from things sensible, may, with greater ease and leisure, give her self to the Contemplation of Truth.

A Man in this capacity, who had not his Mind fill'd with the Prejudices of Childhood; who from his Youth upwards had obtain'd a Facility for Meditation; who would only take up with the clear and distinct Notions of Intellect, and industriously reject all the confus'd Idea's of Sense; and who had both Time and Inclination for Study; would doubtless very rarely fall into Error. But such a Man as this is not the subject of our Discourse; 'tis Men of the vulgar stamp, who usually have nothing of this in them.

I say then, that the Solidity and Consistence accruing with Age to the Fibres of Men's Brains, gives the Solidity and Consistence to their Errors, if I may so speak. 'Tis the Seal that seals up their Prejudices, and all their false Opinions, and locks them from the Attempts and Force of Reason. In fine, by how much this Constitution of the Fibres of the Brain is advantagious to well Educated Persons, by so much it is prejudicial to the greatest part of Mankind; because it confirms each of them in the Notions they have taken up.

But Men are not only confirmed and strengthened in their Errors, when they have attained to the Age of Forty or Fifty Years. They are still more liable to fall into new ones every day; for believing themselves competent Judges of every thing, as indeed they ought to be, they peremptorily determine, yet only consult their Prejudices to give a decision: For Men reason only upon things with relation to the Idea's they are most familiar with, and accustomed to. When a Chymist would reason about any Physical Body, immediately his three Principles are present to his Mind. A Peripatetick has recourse forthwith in his Thoughts to his four Elements, and the four Primitive Qualities: And another Philosopher drives every thing up to other Principles. And so there can nothing enter into the Mind of a Man, but is instantly tinged with the Error he is subject to, and augments their number.

This Consistence of the Brain has besides a very mischievous Effect, especially on more Aged sort of People, which is, to incapacitate them for Thought and Meditation: They are unable to fasten their Attention upon any thing they have a Mind to know, and so are incapable of reaching to Truths that are any thing obscure or intricate, They are utterly insensible to the most reasonable Opinions, when founded upon Principles that to them seem Novel, though as to those other concerns, that Age has given them Experience in, they are very understanding Men. But all that I here affirm is only to be understood of those, who have spent their younger days without the due Use and Improvement of their Mind, and applying it as they should do.

To illustrate these things, 'tis necessary to know, that not any thing whatever can be learned without Advertency and Attention; and that 'tis impossible we should be attentive to any thing, unless we Imagine it, and frame a lively Representation of it in our Brain. But to the end we may Imagine any Objects, 'tis necessary we should inflect some part of our Brain, or impress some other kind of Motion in it, that we may frame the Traces, whereunto are consociated the Ideas that represent these Objects to us: So that if the Fibres of our Brain were any whit hardned, they would be capable of no other Inflection or Motions, than those they were formerly us'd to. And thus the Soul could form no Imagination of, nor consequently be attentive to what she pleases; but only to such things as are customary and familiar to her.

Hence we ought to conclude, that 'tis of very great Advantage to use a Man's self to Meditate upon all sorts of Subjects, in order to acquire an Habitual Facility of Thinking on what he will. For as we acquire a great Readiness at moving our Fingers all manner of ways, and with a prodigious Nimbleness, by the frequent Use we make of them in playing on a Musical Instrument; so the parts of our Brain, the Motion whereof is necessary to the Imagining what we please, attain by Use a certain Facility of Plying and Inflecting themselves, which makes us imagine the things we have a Mind to, with a great deal of Ease, Readiness, and Distinction.

Now the best means of procuring this Disposition, which causeth the Principal Difference between a Man of Parts, and another; is to accustom a Man's self from his Youth to the Disquisition of the Truth of things very abstract and difficult: Because in that Age the Fibres of the Brain are pliable and flexible all manner of ways.

I suppose not however, that this Facility can be acquir'd by those we call Men of Books and Learning; who only apply themselves to Reading, without Meditation, and without searching out the Resolution of Questions themselves, before they Read them in Authors. 'Tis palpable enough, that hereby they only acquire a Facility of Remembring what they have read. 'Tis daily observ'd, that Men of much Reading, are unable to bring Advertency of Attention to things that are new to them, and unheard of; and that the Vanity of their Learning, inclining them to form a Judgment of them, before they conceive them, makes them fall into gross Errors, to which other Men are not obnoxious.

[Page]But though the want of Advertency is the main Cause of their Errors, there is one still that is peculiar to them; which is, that finding ever in their Memory abundance of confus'd Notions, they presently select some one of them, and consider it as the subject of the Question: And because the things a Man speaks, are not conformable to it; they ridiculously conclude he is in an Error. Should you endeavour to represent to them that they are deceiv'd themselves, and that they understand not so much as the state of the Question; they fall into a Passion, and not being able to conceive what is said to them, they persist to embrace that false Notion their Memory has suggested. But should the falsity of it be made too manifestly apparent, they substitute a second, and a third in its room, which they defend sometimes against all appearances of Truth, and even against their own Conscience; as having but little Respect or Love for Truth, but a great deal of Shame and Confusion in acknowledging, there are things another knows better than themselves.

All that has been said concerning Men of forty or fifty Years old, ought with greater allowance to be understood of Aged Men;III. Concerning the Imagination of Old Men. because the Fibres of their Brain being still more inflexible, and wanting Animal Spirits to imprint new Traces in it; their Imagination is altogether faint and languid.

And whereas generally the Fibres of their Brain are loaded with abundance of superfluous Humours, they lose by degrees the Memory of things past, and return to the weaknesses usually incident to Childhood. Thus in this Decrepid Age, they have the Defects which depend on the Constitution of the Fibres of the Brain; which are found both in Children and in grown Men. Though it may be said they have more Prudence than either of them, because they are less subject to their Passions, which proceed from the Commotion of the Animal Spirits.

I shall not explain these things more at large, because it is easie to judge of this Age, by the others before treated of; and to conclude that Old Men have more difficulty than others at conceiving what is said to them; that they are more zealously devoted to their Prejudices and Ancient Opinions; and consequently are more confirmed and strengthened in their Errors, in their corrupt Habits, and other things of like Nature. 'Tis only to be advertis'd, That the state of Old Age is not precisely determined to Sixty or Seventy Years; that all Old Men are not Dotards; and that those who have pass'd the Sixtieth Year, are not always delivered from the Passions of Youth; and that we ought not to draw too general Consequences from the Principles establish'd.

CHAP. II.

That the Animal Spirits generally run in the Tracks of Idea's that are most familiar to us, which is the Reason of our preposterous Judgments.

I Have, I think, explain'd in the fore-going Chapters, the various Changes happening in the Animal Spirits, and in the Constitution of the Fibres of the Brain, according to different Ages: Wherefore supposing a Man to have meditated a little upon what has been said upon that Subject, he must necessarily have a distinct Knowledge enough of the Imagination, and of the most common Natural Causes of the differences observable between the Minds of Men; since all the Changes happening in the Imagination and the Mind, are only the Consequences of those which are to be found in the Animal Spirits, and the Fibres that compose the Brain.

But there are many particular, and such as we may call Moral Causes of the Changes which happen in the Imagination of Men; namely, Their different Conditions, their various Employments; and, in a word, their several ways of Living; which deserve to be attentively consider'd; because these sorts of Changes are the Causes of a numberless multitude of Errors, every Man judging of things with reference to his own Condition: We think it not so much our Business to stand to explain the Effects of some less customary Causes; such as great Diseases, surprizing Misfortunes, and other unexpected Accidents, which make very violent Impressions in the Brain, and which sometimes totally subvert it; because these things are of very rare occurrence; and besides, the Error such sort of Persons fall into, are too gross to be contagious, since they are palpable and discernible to all Mankind.

But that we may perfectly comprehend all the Changes the different conditions and states of Life produce in the Imagination; 'tis absolutely necessary to be call'd to mind, that our Imagining Objects is only the framing Images thereof to our Selves; and that these Images are nothing but the Traces delineated by the Animal Spirits in the Brain; that we Imagine things so much stronglier as these Traces are more deep and better cut, and as the Animal Spirits more frequently and violently pass through them; that these Spirits, by their frequent course, so plain and open the Passage, as to enter the same Tracks with greater readiness than any other neighbouring parts, through which they either have not pass'd, or not so frequently. This is the most ordinary Cause of the Confusion and Falsity of our Idea's. For the Animal Spirits which [Page] were directed by the Action of External Objects, or even by the orders of the Soul to the production of certain Traces, frequently produce others, which indeed have some resemblance with them, but are not altogether the Traces of these same Objects, nor those the Soul desir'd to represent; because the Animal Spirits finding some Resistance in the parts of the Brain through which they ought to pass, are easily diverted to throng into the deep Traces of Idea's which are most familiar to us: Here are some very gross and sensible Instances of these things.

When those who are not extraordinary short-sighted behold the Moon, they see in her two Eyes, a Nose, and a Mouth; in a word it looks to them as if they saw a Face, tho there be nothing in her of what they fancy they perceive. Many Persons see in her quite another thing. And those who believe the Moon to be such as she appears, would quickly be undeceived, did they but behold her with Telescopes, though of a moderate size; or did they only consult the Descriptions Hevelius, Riccioli, and others have made Publick. Now the Reason why a Man usually sees a Face in the Moon, and not those irregular Blotches that are in her, is because the Traces of a Face, which are imprinted in the Brain, are very deep, for that we frequently look on Faces, and with great Attention. So that the Animal Spirits meeting with opposition in the other parts of the Brain, easily swerve from the Direction the Light of the Moon impresses on them, when a Man beholds her; to accomodate themselves to the Traces whereunto Nature has affix'd the Idea's of a Face. Besides that the apparent Magnitude of the Moon differing not much from a common head at a certain Distance; She by her Impression forms such Traces, as have Connection with those which represent a Nose, a Mouth, and Eyes; and so she determines the Spirits to take their course in the Traces of a Face. There are some who discern in the Moon a Man on Horse-back, or something else than a Face, because their Imagination having been briskly smitten with some particular Objects, the Traces of these Objects open at any thing that bears the least Analogy to them.

'Tis upon the same grounds we Imagine we see Chariots, Men, Lions, and other Animals in the Clouds, when there is any little resemblance between their Figures and these Animals: and all Men, especially those who are used to Designing, see sometimes Heads of Men on Walls, whereon there are many irregular stains.

'Tis for the same Reason still that the Spirits of Wine, entering without any Direction of the Will into the most familiar Traces, make Men betray their Secrets of the greatest concernment; and that when a Man sleeps he usually dreams of Objects he has seen in the Day-time, which have form'd very great Traces in the Brain: because the Soul is ever representing those things, whereof she has the greatest and deepest Traces. But see other Examples of a more complex kind.

A Distemper is new: and it makes such havock and destruction, as amazes all Men. This imprints Traces so deep in the Brain, that this Disease is never absent from the Mind. If this Disease be call'd, for instance, the Scurvy; all Diseases must presently be call'd Scurvy: the Scurvy is new, therefore all new Distempers is the Scurvy: The Scurvy is accompany'd with a dozen Symptoms, whereof many are common to other Distempers, that matters not: If a sick Person fortunes to have any one of the Symptoms, he must needs be sick of the Scurvy; and other Distempers are never suspected, or thought of, that have the same Symptoms. 'Tis expected that all the Accidents which befal those that have been sick of the Scurvy, must befal him too: The same Medicines therefore are prescrib'd him, and 'tis matter of amazement, to find they have not the same Effect, as they have been known to have had in others.

An Author applies himself to one kind of Study; The Traces of the Subject he's imploy'd about, are so deeply imprinted, and make such lively Radiations through the Brain, as to confound and efface sometimes the Traces of things of a quite different kind. There has been a Man, for instance, that has wrote many bulky Volumes on the Cross; this made him discover a Cross in every thing he look'd upon; and 'tis with Reason, that Father Morinus handsomly rallies him, for thinking a Medal represented a Cross, though it represented quite another thing. 'Twas by such another unlucky turn of Imagination Gilbertus and many others, after having studied the Load-stone, and admir'd its properties, must needs reduce to these Magnetick Qualities abundance of Natural Effects, that had no Relation to them in the World.

The Instances I have here alledg'd, suffice to prove that the great facility of the Imagination's representing Objects that are familiar to it, and the difficulty it finds in Imagining those that are Novel, is the Reason of Mens forming almost ever such Idea's as may be styl'd mix'd and impure; and of the Mind's judging of things only with Relation to it self, and its former Thoughts. And thus the different Passions of Men, their Inclinations, Conditions, Imployments, Qualities, Studies, finally all their different Ways and Scopes of Life, putting very considerable Differences in their Idea's, occasion them to fall into innumerable Errors, which we shall explain in the following Discourse: Which was the reason of My Lord Bacon's speaking this most judicious Sentence: Omnes perceptiones tam sensûs quam mentis sunt ex analogiâ hominis, non ex analogiâ universi: Estque Intellectus humanus instar speculi inaequalis, ad radios rerum qui suam Naturam naturae rerum immiscet, eam (que) distorquet, & inficit.

CHAP. III.

[Page]

Of the Mutual Connection between the Idea's, and the Traces of the Brain; and of the Mutual Connection there is between Traces and Traces, Idea's and Idea's.

AMONG the whole Mass of Material Beings, there is nothing more worthy of the Contemplation of Men, than the Contexture of their own Body, and the Correspondence found between the Parts that compose it. And among all things Spiritual, there is nothing, the Knowledge whereof is more necessary, than that of their Soul, and of all the Relations she is indispensably under to GOD, and Naturally to the Body.

'Tis not enough to have a confus'd Knowledge or Sensation, that the Traces of the Brain are mutually connected to each other, and that they are pursued by the Motion of the Animal Spirits; that the Traces when excited in the Brain, excite the Idea's in the Understanding, and that the Motions that arise in the Animal Spirits, raise the Passions in the Will. We ought, as far as is possible, to have a distinct Knowledge of the Cause of all these different Connections; but especially of the Effects they are capable of producing.

We ought to know the Cause thereof, in as much as it is necessary to know our Guide and Conductor, who alone is capable of acting in us, and of rendring us happy or miserable; and we ought to know the Effect of them, it being necessary to know our selves as much as possible, and other Men with whom we are oblig'd to live: So should we know the means both of conducting our selves to, and preserving our selves in, the most happy and perfect state we are capable of attaining, by the order of Nature, and the Precepts of the Gospel: and so should we be able to frame our Lives sociably with Men, by exactly knowing the means of making use of them in our Exigencies, and assisting them in their Miseries.

I pretend not to Explain in this Chapter a Subject so vast and Comprehensive: nor have I that Opinion of my self, as to think I should throughly do it in this whole Work. There are many things I am still ignorant of, and despair of ever knowing well: and there are others which I presume I know, but am unable to explicate: For there is no mind so little and so narrow, but may by Meditation discover more Truths, than can be deduc'd at length by the most Eloquent Man in the World.

I. Of the Vnion of the Soul and Body.We are not to imagine with a great part of the Philosophers, that the Mind becomes Body when united to the Body, and that the Body becomes Mind when united to the Mind. The Soul is not expanded through all the parts of the Body, in order to give Life and Motion to it, as the Imagination represents: nor does the Body become capable of Sensation by its Union with the Mind, as our treacherous and abusive Senses would seem to perswade us. Either Substance preserves its own particular Being, and as the Soul is incapable of Extension and Motions; so the Body is incapable of Thought and Inclinations. All the Affinity that we know between the Body and Mind, consists in the Natural and Mutual correspondence of the Thoughts of the Soul, with the Traces of the Brain; and of the Emotions of the Soul, with the Motions of the Animal Spirits.

When the Soul receives some new Idea's, some new Traces are imprinted on the Brain; and when Objects produce new Traces, the Soul receives new Idea's. Which is not said, as if the Soul consider'd these Traces, since she has no knowledge of them; or, as if these Traces included these Idea's, since there is no Analogy betwixt them: or lastly, as if she receiv'd her Idea's from these Traces; for 'tis inconceivable, as shall be explain'd hereafter, how the Mind should receive any thing from the Body, and become more enlightned than she is, by turning towards it, as the Philosophers pretend, who would have the Souls Perception of all things to be caus'd Per conversionem ad phantasmata, by the Conversion to the Phantasms, or Traces of the Brain.

Thus when the Soul wills the moving of her Arm, the Arm is mov'd, though she not so much as knows what ought to be done to the moving it: and when the Animal Spirits are agitated, the Soul finds a Commotion in her self, though she is ignorant whether there be any such thing as Animal Spirits in her Body.

When I come to treat of the Passions, I shall speak of the Connection there is between the Traces of the Brain, and the Motions of the Spirits; and of that which is between the Idea's, and the Emotions of the Soul: for all the Passions have their Dependance thereon. I am to Discourse at present only of the Connection between Traces and Idea's, and the Connection Traces have with one another.

Three Causes of the Connection of Traces with Idea's.There are three very considerable Causes of the Connection of Idea's with the Traces of the Brain. The first and most general, is the Identity of time: for our having had certain thoughts at the instant of our having certain new Traces in the Brain, is oftentimes sufficient for our having a-fresh the same thoughts, as often as these Traces are re-produc'd in our Brain. If the Idea of GOD has been offer'd to my Mind, at the same time my Brain receiv'd an Impression from the sight of these three Letters Jah, or from the sound of the same word, 'tis enough that the Traces produc'd by the sound or sight of these Characters be re-printed, to cause me to think on GOD; nor can I think of GOD, but some confus'd Traces of the Characters [Page] or sounds, that the thoughts I had of GOD were attended with, will be re-produc'd in my Brain: For the Brain being never empty of Traces, there are constantly such as are somewhat related to what we think of, though these Traces are frequently very imperfect and confus'd.

The second Cause of the Connection between Idea's and Traces, and which ever supposes the former, is the Will of Men. This Will is necessary to the intent this Connection of Idea's with the Traces, may be regulated and accommodated to use. For were not Men naturally inclin'd to a mutual Agreement about affixing their Idea's to Sensible Signs; this Connection of Idea's would not be only absolutely useless to society, but would moreover be very irregular, and extreamly imperfect.

And that, first because Idea's have never any strong Connection with the Traces, except when the Spirits being agitated and fermented, make the Traces deep and permanent. So that, since the Spirits are only agitated by the Passions, had Men no Passion for communicating their own thoughts and participating those of others, it is plain that the exact Connection of their Idea's to particular Traces, wou'd be very weak; since they would never use themselves to those exact and regular Connections, were it not to become intelligible one to another.

Secondly, the repeated concurrence of the same Idea's with the same Traces, being necessary to make so strong a Connection, as may be durable and lasting; (since a first meeting, unless attended with a violent Motion of the Animal Spirits, cannot confederate them so strongly as is requisite) it is manifest, that should not Men contrive to agree, it would be the greatest chance in the World, for the same Traces and the same Idea's to meet a second time. Thus the Will of Men is necessary to regulate the Connection and Alliance of the same Traces with the same Idea's; though this Will of Agreeing is not so much the result of their Choice and Reason, as an Impression of the Author of Nature, who has dispos'd and made us all for the Benefit of each other, and given us a strong Inclination to unite in Mind, as much as we are united in our Bodies.

The third Cause of the Connection of Idea's with the Traces, is the Nature, or the constant and immutable Will of the Creator. There is, for instance, a Natural Connection, and independent on our Will, between the Traces produc'd by a Tree or a Mountain which we see, and the Idea's of a Tree or a Mountain: between the Traces produc'd in our Brain by the cry of a Man or an Animal suffering Pains, and whose Plaints we hear: by the mein of a Man's Countenance that threatens or fears us; and the Idea's of Pains, Strength, Weakness; and also the Sensations of Pity, Fear, and Courage, which are occasion'd in our selves.

These Natural Connections are of all others the strongest; they are generally alike in all Mankind: and they are absolutely necessary to the Preservation of Life. And this is the Reason they have no dependence on our Will. For if the Connection of Idea's with Sounds and certain Characters, is weak and very different in different Countries; 'tis because it depends on the weak and changeable Will of Men. And the Reason why it depends thereon, is because this Connection is not absolutely necessary to their Living; but only to their Living as Men; who ought to form themselves into Civil and Rational Societies.

It is here very observable, that the Connection of Idea's, which represent things Spiritual distinct from us, with the Traces of our Brain, is not Natural, nor possible to be so: And consequently that it is or may be different in all Men; since it has no other cause than their own Will, and the Identity of time; whereof I have spoken before. On the Contrary, the Connection of Idea's of all things material with certain particular Traces, is Natural; and consequently there are particular Traces which excite the same Idea in all Mankind. It cannot be doubted, for instance, but all Men have the Idea of a Square upon sight of a Square, because that Connection is Natural: but it may be very well doubted whether all Men have the Idea of a Square, when they hear the word Square pronounc'd; because that Connection is altogether arbitrary. We ought to think the same thing of all those Traces that are connected with the Idea's of things of a Spiritual kind.

But because the Traces which have a Natural Connection with Idea's, give the Mind concern and application, and consequently render it attentive; the generality of Men are very ready at comprehending and retaining sensible and palpable Truths: that is to say, the Relations, which Bodies have to one another. And on the other hand, because the Traces, which have no other Connection with Idea's, than that which the will has effected between them, strike not vigorously on the Mind; all Men in general find it very difficult to comprehend, and harder yet to retain abstracted Truths; that is to say the Relations which are between things which come not within the Verge of Imagination. But when these Relations are any whit compounded, they seem absolutely incomprehensible; especially to those who are not us'd to them; because they have not strengthened the Connection between these abstract Idea's and their Traces, by a perpetual Meditation. And though others have perfectly comprehended them, they forget them again in a little time; because the Connection is hardly ever so strong, as the Natural.

'Tis so true, that all the difficulty Men have to comprehend and retain things Spiritual and Abstract, proceeds from the difficulty they find to corroborate the Connection of their Idea's with the Traces of the Brain; that when they find the means of Explaining by material Relations, those that are between things Spiritual, they make them easily understood; imprinting them in such manner on the mind, as not only to be strongly convinc'd of them, but also to retain them without any trouble. The general Idea we have given of the Mind in the first Chapter of this Work, is perhaps a sufficient Proof of what I say.

[Page]On the contrary, when the Relations that are between material things are so exprest, that there is no necessary Connection between the Idea's of these things, and the Traces of their Expressions; they are difficultly comprehended and easily forgotten.

Those, for instance, who enter upon the Study of Algebra, or Analyticks, are incapable of taking Algebraick Demonstrations without a great deal of pains; and when they have once master'd them, they retain them but a short time; because Squares, (for example) Parallelograms, Cubes, Solids, and the like, being exprest by aa, ab, a 3, abc, &c. the Traces whereof have no Natural Connection with their Idea's; the Mind finds no hold to fasten the Idea's to, and to examine the Relations of them by.

But those who begin to Study Common Geography, most clearly and readily conceive the little Demonstrations that are explain'd to them; provided they distinctly understand the Terms made use of: Because the Idea's of a Square, a Circle, or the like, are Naturally Connected with the Traces of the figures they see describ'd before their Eyes. And it often happens, that the meer shewing of the figure used in the Demonstration, makes them sooner comprehend it, than the Discourses made to explain it. Because words being Connected to Idea's by an arbitrary institution only, excite not these Idea's readily and distinctly enough, to make us easily understand their Relations. For 'tis chiefly upon that account, there is so much difficulty found in learning the Sciences.

By the way, it may be discover'd from what I have been saying, that those Writers who coin abundance of new Words and Figures, to explain their Notions by; spend much pains to very little purpose. They think to make themselves intelligible, when indeed they take the way of becoming incomprehensible. We define, say they, all our Terms, and all our Characters, and others ought to agree to them. It is true, others agree to them with their Will, but their Nature is repugnant. They cannot fasten their Idea's to these Novel Terms; because to that is required custom and long practice. The Authors perhaps have attain'd that custom, but the Readers have not: And when a Man endeavours to instruct the Mind, 'tis necessary he first know it; since he ought to conform to Nature, and offer her nothing provoking or offensive.

Yet we ought not to condemn the Industry and Care Mathematicians take in defining their Terms; for Definition is evidently necessary to take away Equivocation. But the ordinary and receiv'd Terms ought to be imploy'd as far as possibly they can; or such whose common signification is not very remote from that which they pretend to introduce; which is a thing not constantly observ'd among the Mathematicians.

Nor do we pretend by what has been said, to condemn Algebra; especially such as Mr. Des-Cartes has restor'd, and left it to us. For though the Novelty of some Expressions in that Science, give the Mind some trouble at first; yet there is so little variety and confusion in these Expressions; and the Assistances the Mind receives from them so much out-weigh the Difficulty found in them, that I am of Opinion 'tis impossible for a Man to invent a way of Reasoning and Expressing his Reasonings, more suited or better accomodated to the Nature of the Mind, or that can carry it farther in the Discovery of unknown Truths. The Expressions of that Science do not distract the Capacity of the Mind; they burden not the Memory; they contract and abridge in a wonderful manner all our Idea's and our Reasonings, and even render them in some measure sensible by Practice. In fine, their usefulness is much greater than the Natural Expressions of the delineated Figures of Triangles, Squares, and others of like Nature; which are inserviceable to the Disquisition and Unfolding of Truths any whit intricate and obscure. But so much for the Connection of Idea's with the Traces of the Brain. 'Tis seasonable to say something of the Connection of Traces with one another, and consequently of the Connection between the Idea's corresponding to these Traces.

II. Of the Mutual Connection of the Traces.This Connection consists in this, that the Traces of the Brain are so firmly connected to one another, as 'tis impossible to excite them again, without the whole retinue which were imprinted at the same time. If a Man for instance, happens to be in some publick Solemnity, in case he observes all the Circumstances, and all the Principle Persons that assisted at, the time, the place, the day, and all other Particularities; the remembrance only of the Place, or some other less observable Circumstance of the Ceremony, will be sufficient to bring the Representation of all the other to his Mind. 'Tis upon this account that when we can't recollect the Principal Name of a thing, we sufficiently specifie it by making use of a Name, which signifies some Circumstance of that thing; as not being able to call to Mind the proper Name of a Church, we can make use of another Name, signifying a thing that has some Relation to it, We can say, 'Tis that Church where there was such a Throng; where Mr. such a one Preach'd; where we went on Sunday. And thus not having the proper Name of a Person ready at hand, or when it is more convenient to denote him in another manner, we can do it by saying, He whose Face was disfigured by the Small-pox; the Portly and well-made Gentleman; the little crooked Man, according as we stand affected towards him; though to express a Man in terms of contempt, is neither a sign of good Nature nor good Manners.

Now the mutual Connection of these Traces, and consequently of their Idea's one with another, is not only the foundation of all the Figures of Rhetorick, but also of infinite other things of greatest concernment in Morality, and Politicks, and in all Sciences in general, which are any ways related to Man; and consequently of many things we shall treat of in the sequel of our Discourse.

[Page]The cause of the Connection of many Traces together, is the Identity of time, wherein they were imprinted on the Brain. For 'tis enough for many Traces to have been produc'd at the same time, to cause that they should never afterwards be excited, but in company of one another; because the Animal Spirits, finding the Channel of these Co-temporary Traces gaping and half open, continue their courses in them, by reason of their meeting with a more free passage through them, than through the other parts of the Brain. This is the cause of Memory, and the Corporeal Habits which are common to us with Beasts.

The Connections of the Traces are not always conjoyn'd with the Emotions of the Spirits, because all the things we see do not always appear either Good or Evil: These Connections too may change or break, because being not of perpetual necessity for the preservation of Life, there is no need they should always be the same.

But there are certain Traces in our Brain which have a Natural Connection with one another; as also with certain Commotions of the Spirits; that being necessary to the Preservation of Life. And this Connection can't be broken, at least not easily, because 'tis convenient it should always be the same. For instance, the trace of a great Precipice, which a Man sees under him, and from which there is danger of falling, or the Traces of some bulky Body imminent over his Head, and ready to fall and crush him, is naturally Connected with that which represents Death, and with a Commotion of the Spirits, which disposes him to flight or the desire of flying it. This Connection admits no alteration, because 'tis necessary it should always be the same; and it consists in a disposition of the Fibres of the Brain, which we bring with us into the World.

All the Connections which are not Natural, may, and ought to break; because the different Circumstances of times and places ought to change, to the end they may be useful to the Preservation of Life. 'Tis convenient the Partridge, for instance, should fly the Sports-man with his Gun, at the season and the places of his pursuing the Game. But there's no necessity it should fly him in other places, or at other times: Thus 'tis necessary all Animals for their Preservation should have certain Connections of Traces easily made, and easily broken; and that they should have others very difficult to be sever'd; and lastly, others incapable of Dissolution.

'Tis of very great use, to make diligent enquiry into the different Effects these different Connections are able to produce: For there are Effects, which as they are very numerous, so they are no less important to the Knowledge of Man, and all things relating to him. We shall see hereafter, that these things are the principal Causes of our Errors. But 'tis time to return to the Subject we have promis'd to Discourse on, and to explain the different Changes which happen to the Imagination of Men, by reason of their different ways and purposes of Life.

CHAP. IV.

I. That Men of Learning are the most subject to Error. II. The Causes why Men had rather be guided by Authority, than make use of their own Reason.

THE Differences observable in Men, as to their Ways and Purposes of Life, are almost infinite. Their different Conditions, different Employments, different Posts and Offices, and different Communities are innumerable. These Differences are the Reason of Men's acting upon quite different Designs, and Reasoning upon different Principles. Even in the same Community, wherein there should be but one Character of Mind, and all the same Designs; you shall rarely meet with several Persons, whose Aims and Views are not different. Their various Employments, and their many Adhesions, necessarily diversifie the Method and Manner they would take to accomplish those various things wherein they agree. Whereby 'tis manifest that it would be an impossible Undertaking, to go about to explain in particular the Moral Causes of Error; nor would it turn to any great Account should we do it in this place. I design therefore only to speak of those Ways of Living, that lead us into great multitudes of Errors, and Errors of most dangerous Importance. When these shall be explain'd, we shall have open'd the way for the Mind to proceed farther; and every one may discover, at a single View, and with the greatest ease imaginable, the most hidden Causes of many particular Errors, the Explication whereof would cost a world of Pains and Trouble. When once the Mind sees clearly, it delights to run to Truth; and it runs to it with an inexpressible swiftness.

The Imployment that seems most necessary to be treated of at present, by Reason of its producing most considerable Changes in the Imagination of Men,I. M [...]n of Learning are the most subject to Err [...]r. and its conducting them into Errors most, is that of Men of Books and Learning; who make greater use of their Memory, than Thought. For Experience has ever manifested, that those who have applied themselves the most fervently to the Reading of Books, and to the Search of Truth, are the Men that have led us into a very great part of our Errors.

[Page]'Tis much the same with those that Study, as with those that Travel. When a Traveller has unfortunately mistaken his way, the farther he goes, at the greater distance he is from his Journey's end; and he st [...]ll deviates so much more, as he is industrious and in haste to arrive at the place design'd. So the vehement pursuits Men make after Truth cause them to betake themselves to the Reading of Books, wherein they think to find it; or put them upon framing some Phantastical System of the things they desire to know; wherewith when their Heads are full and heated, they try by some fruitless Sallies and Attempts of Thought to recommend them to the taste of others, with hopes to receive the Honours that are usually pay'd to the first Founders of Systems. These two Imperfections are now to be consider'd.

'Tis not easie to be understood how it comes to pass, that Men of Wit and Parts choose rather to trust to the Conduct of other Men's Understanding in the Search of Truth, than to their own, which GOD has given them. There is doubtless infinitely more Pleasure as well as Honour, to be conducted by a Man's own Eyes, than those of others. And a Man who has good Eyes in his Head, will never think of shutting them, or plucking them out, under the hopes of having a Guide. And yet the use of the Understanding is to the use of the Eyes, as the Understanding is to the Eyes; and as the Understanding is infinitely superiour to the Eyes, so the use of the Understanding is accompany'd with more solid Satisfactions, and gives another sort of Content, than Light and Colours give the Sight. Notwithstanding Men employ their Eyes in Guiding and Conducting themselves, but rarely make use of their Reason in Discovery of Truth.

But there are many Causes which contribute to this overthrow of Reason. First, Men's Natural Carelessness and Oscitation,II. The Causes why Men had rather be guided by Authority, than make use of their own Reason. that will not let them be at the Pains of Thinking.

Secondly, Their Incapacity to Meditate, which they have contracted, for want of applying themselves to it from their Youth; as has been explain'd in the Ninth Chapter.

Thirdly, The inconcernedness and little Love they have for Abstract Truths, which are the Foundation of all that can be known in this World,

The Fourth Reason is the Satisfaction which accrues from the knowledge of Probabilities, which are very agreeable, and extreamly moving, as being founded upon sensible Notions.

The Fifth Cause is that ridiculous Vanity, which makes us affect the seeming Learned. For those go by the Name of Learned, who have read most Books: The Knowledge of Opinions is of greater use in Conversation, and serves better to catch the Admiration of the Vulgar, than the Knowledge of True Philosophy, which is learned by Meditation.

In the sixth place, we may reckon that unreasonable Fancy, which supposes the Ancients were more enlightned, than we can be; and that there is nothing left for us but what they have succeeded in.

The Seventh is a Disingenuous Respect mix'd with an absurd Curiosity, which makes Men admire things that are most Remote and Ancient, such as are far fetch'd, or come from unknown Countries, as also Books that are most Mysterious and Obscure. Thus Heraclitus's Repute heretofore was owing to his Obscurity.Clarus ob obscuram linguam. Lucretius. Men are very inquisitive after Ancient Medals, tho' corroded with rust; and the Shoe or Slipper of one of the Ancients is respectfully preserv'd, though eaten up with Worms: Their Antiquity makes them Venerable. There are some Men who apply themselves to the Reading the Rabbins, because they wrote in an outlandish, very corrupt, and obscure Language. Ancient Opinions are in greater esteem, for being more remote from us. And doubtless if Nimrod had written the History of his Reign, all the most refin'd Politicks, and even all the other Sciences, had been found contain'd in't; just as some have been able to discover in Homer and Virgil, the perfect Knowledge of Nature. Deference, say they, is due to Antiquity:Veritas filia temporis, non au [...]toritatis. How could Aristotle, Plato, Epicurus, those grand Sages be mistaken? They do not consider, that Aristotle, Plato, Epicurus, were Men like us, and of the same Species with us; and moreover that the World since their Time, is grown more than two thousand Years older; that it has gain'd greater Experience, and ought to be more enlightned; and that 'tis the Age and Experience of the World that makes the Discovery of Truth.

The Eighth Reason is, That when a New Opinion or a modern Author is in Vogue, our own Glory seems to be obscur'd, by being too near him: But we are under no such Apprehensions from the Honour that is given to the Ancients.

The Ninth is, That Truth and Novelty are inconsistent in matters of Faith. For when Men will not distinguish between Truths which depend on Reason, and those which rely upon Tradition, they don't consider that they ought to be learn'd in a very different manner. They confound Novelty with Error, and Antiquity with Truth. Luther and Calvin, and others, say they, have Innovated and Err'd; therefore Gallilaeus, Harvey, and Des-Cartes, in what they have advanc'd as New, are deceiv'd. Luther's Consubstantiation is Novel, and is False: Therefore Harvey's Circulation of the Blood is False, because 'tis New; and for this Reason they indiscriminately give the odious Title of Innovators, to Hereticks and New Philosophers. The Idea's and Terms of Truth and Antiquity, Falshood and Novelty, have been Connected one with another: And this is the Effect of it; the Vulgar part of Men no longer separate them; and Men of Sense find some difficulty to separate them, as they should do.

The Tenth is, That we live in an Age wherein the Science of Ancient Opinions is still in great Repute: And 'tis only those few who can take the Liberty of Thinking, that are able, by the force of their Reason, to set themselves above corrupt and evil Customs. When a Man is in a press and a throng, 'tis a hard matter not to follow the torrent.

[Page]Lastly, Because Men are acted only by Interest; which is the Reason that those themselves who find out the Abuse, and discover the Vanity of these sorts of Studies, stick close to them still: Because Honours, Preferments, and Benefices, are entail'd to them; and those who are Eminent herein, have a greater share of them, than those that are ignorant of them.

All these Reasons make it, one would think, easie to be conceiv'd, why Men implicitly follow the Ancient Opinions, as true; and reject the New ones universally, as false; finally, why they make no use, or very little of their Reason. Undoubtedly there are abundance of other more particular Reasons, that contribute to it; but if these we have brought be attentively consider'd, it will be no matter of surprize to find some Men obstinately Bigotted to the Authority of the Ancients.

CHAP. V.

Two pernicious Effects Reading has upon the Imagination.

THAT disingenuous and loose Respect, which Men award the Ancients, is productive of abundance of very mischievous Effects, which 'tis worth while to consider.

The First is, That by accustoming them to a disuse of their Reason,See the first Article of the preceding Chapter. it by little and little puts them under an utter Incapacity of using it. For it ought not to be imagin'd, that those who grow Gray in the Study of Aristotle and Plato, make much use of their Understanding: They generally spend so much time in the Reading of these Books, meerly to enter into the Sentiments of their Authors: And their main Scope and Purpose is, to know truly the Opinions they held, without troubling themselves much about those of them which ought to be held, as shall be prov'd in the succeeding Chapter. Thus the Science and Philosophy they learn, is properly a Science of Memory, and not a Science of the Vnderstanding. They know only the History, and the matter of Fact, and not the evident Truths; and may more justly be call'd Historians, than true Philosophers.

The Second Effect produc'd in the Imagination by the Reading Ancient Authors, is the strange confusion it makes in the Idea's of most Men that give themselves to it. There are two different ways of Reading Authors: The one is very Advantagious and Useful; the other very Useless, and also Dangerous. Reading is of great use, when one meditates on what one reads: When a Man by an Essay of Thought endeavours the Resolution of the Questions he sees in the Contents of the Chapters, before he begins to read them; when he Methodizes and Collates the Idea's of things with one another; in a word, when he uses his Reason. On the contrary, Reading is of no account, when he understands not what 'tis he is about: But 'tis of dangerous consequence for a Man to read, and comprehend what he reads, when he does not strictly search and examine into it, so as to be able to judge of it; and especially if he has Memory enough to retain what he conceives, and Imprudence enough to consent to it. The first way enlightens the Understanding, it corroborates and enlarges it Capacity. The Second straightens its Capacity, and renders it by degrees weak, obscure, and confus'd.

Now the generality of those, who glory in the Knowledge of others Opinions, study only the second Manner: And so the more Reading they have, the more feeble, dark, and confus'd their Understanding grows. The Reason whereof is, that the Traces of their Brain are confounded with each other; as lying in great numbers, and being never Postur'd and Methodiz'd by Reason; which is the thing that hinders the Mind from imagining and representing clearly the things it has occasion for. When the Mind would open some particular Traces, finding others that are more familiar to it in the way, 'tis easily impos'd upon. For the Capacity of the Brain being not infinite, 'tis hardly possible a great quantity of Traces, form'd without Order and Method, should not entangle and perplex themselves, and thereby put the Idea's in confusion. 'Tis upon this score, that Men of a great Memory are commonly incapable of judging well, concerning things that demand a great Attention.

But that which is especially remarkable, is, That the Knowledge Men acquire by Reading, without Meditation, and with design only of retaining the Opinions of others; in a word, all Science that depends on Memory, is properly the Science that puffs up, and makes them Arrogant; because this is that which glitters most to appearance, and makes the possessors vain and conceited, And thus we generally observe those that are this way Learned, to be proud, haughty, and presuming; pretending to have a right of judging of all things, though very little qualify'd for that purpose; which is the Reason of their falling into multitudes of Errors.

But this false Science is the Cause of a greater mischief still. For those Persons fall not into Error along, but draw whole troops of Vulgar Minds along with them; as also a vast retinue of Young People, who Believe their Decisions, as Articles of Faith. These falsly Learned, having oppress'd and overborn them by the weight of their profound Literature, and maz'd them with the Doctrine of uncouth and extravagant Opinions, and the Names of Ancient and Unknown Authors, gain such an irresistible Sway and Authority over their Minds, that they reverence and admire as Oracles, whatever proceeds from their Mouth; and blindfold, and implicitly subscribe to all their Sentiments. Nay, Men of far greater Understanding and Judgment, who had [Page] never known them, and who should not be inform'd what and who they were, seeing them talk in so Magisterial a way and Decisive a strain, in so haughty, so imperious, and so grave an Air, could scarce forbear having a Respect and Esteem for what they say, because 'tis an hard matter to be unaffected with the Air, the Carriage, and Sensible manners of the Speaker. For as it often happens that your Arrogant and Confident Men are too hard for others of greater Abilities, but that are more Judicious and reserved: so those Men that maintain things neither true, nor probable, often silence their Opponents, by talking in an Imperious, Haughty, or grave strain, that surprizes and amuses them.

Now those of whom we speak, have so much Value and Esteem for themselves, and Contempt for others, as to be confirm'd in a certain Fastuous Habit, mix'd with a sort of Gravity, and Fictitious Modesty, which prepossesses and wins the Hearer's Mind.

For it ought to be observ'd, that all the different Airs and Behaviours of Men of different Conditions, are only the Natural Results and Consequences of the Esteem every Man has for himself, in Relation to others: as is easie to be seen if a Man considers them a little. Thus an Haughty and a Brutal Air is peculiar to a Man that highly esteems himself, and disregards the Esteem of other Men: An Air of Modesty is the Air of a Man that sets little by himself, but has much Esteem for others. The Grave Air is that of a Man who has a great Esteem for himself, and desire of being Esteem'd by others. The Simple and Down-right Air and Carriage is that of a Man neither solicitous about himself nor others.

Thus all the different Airs, which are almost infinite, are only the Effects which the different degrees of Esteem every Man has for himself, and for those with whom he converses, naturally produce in his Face, and in all the External parts of his Body. We have explain'd in the Fourth Chapter, that Correspondence which is between the Nerves which excite the Passions within us, and those that evidence them outwardly, by the Air they imprint upon the Face.

CHAP. VI.

That Men of Learning generally are so Opinionated with an Author, that their Principal Drift is the Knowing what he held, without caring to know what ought to be held.

THERE is still another Defect of very great Importance, that Men of Reading are ordinarily subject to: which is that they grow conceited with an Author. If there be any thing true or good in a Book, they are presently extravagant in extolling it. 'Tis all true! 'tis all excellent, and admirable! They please themselves in admiring what they do not understand, and would fain have all the World to admire it with them. The Encomiums they bestow on these obscure Authors, they make redound to their own glory: Since others are hereby perswaded, that they perfectly understand them; and this administers fuel to their Vanity. They esteem themselves above the rest of Mankind, upon the strength of being perswaded they understand some Impertinence of an Ancient Author, or of a Man perhaps that did not understand himself. What a multitude have sweat and laboured, in the Illustration of the obscure Passages of some of the Ancient Philosophers and Poets? And what abundance of fine Wits are there in these Days still, the main Pleasure of whose Life consists in Criticizing on a Word, or the Opinion of an Author? But 'twill not be amiss at present to bring some Proof of what I say.

The Question concerning the Immortality of the Soul, is without doubt a Question of very great Importance. We cannot find fault with the Philosophers, for laying out themselves so industriously towards the Resolution of it. And though they heap up mighty Volumes, to prove after a slender fashion, a Truth that may be Demonstrated in a few Words, or a few Pages; yet they are excusable. But when they are very solicitous, and concern'd about deciding what Aristotle thought of it; they are as pleasant Gentlemen as one could wish. It is, in my Mind, of very little use and benefit to those who live at present, to know whether there was ever such a Man as was call'd Aristotle: whether this Man was the Author of those Books which go under his Name: whether he understood this or that in such a part of his Works. This can neither make a Man wiser nor happier. But it is very material to know whether what he says be true or false in it self.

'Tis then very useless to know what was Aristotle's Opinion concerning the Immortality of the Soul; though it be of great Advantage to know the Soul to be Immortal. Yet I make no scruple to affirm, that there have been many Scholars more solicitous to know Aristotle's Sentiment on this Subject, than the Truth of the thing it self. Since there have been those, who have wrote Books purposely to explain what that Philosopher's Belief was of it; but have not done so much, to know what ought to be believ'd concerning it.

But though there have been a multitude of Men, who have harrassed and fatigued their Mind in resolving what Aristotle's Opinion was; yet their fatigues and pains have been all in vain: since they cannot yet agree about this ridiculous Question. Which evidenceth how mis-fortunate the [Page] followers of Aristotle are, in having a Man so dark and obscure to enlighten them; and who even affects Obscurity, as he declar'd in a Letter that he wrote to Alexander.

The Opinion then of Aristotle about the Immortality of the Soul, has been a mighty Question, and very noted amongst the Learned, But that it may not be imagin'd that I speak at random, and without foundation, I am oblig'd to transcribe a Passage here of La Cerda, somewhat long and tedious: wherein that Author has amass'd together the different Authorities upon that Subject, as upon a Question of greatest Importance. These are his words upon the Second Chapter of Tertullian De Resurrectione carnis.

Quaestio haec in scholis utrinque validis suspicionibus agitatur, num animam immortalem, mortalemve fecerit Aristoteles. Et quidem Philosophi haud ignobiles asseveraverunt Aristotelem posuisse nostros animos ab interitu alienos. Hi sunt è Graecis & Latinis interpretibus Ammonius uterque, Olympiodorus, Philoponus, Simplicius, Avicenna, uti memorat Mirandula▪ l. 4. De examine vanitatis, Cap. 9. Theodorus, Metochytes, Themistius, S. Thomas 2 Contrà gentes Cap 79. & Phys. Lect. 12. & praetereà 12. Metaph. Lect. 3. & Quodlib. 10. Qu. 5. Art. 1. Albertus Tract. 2. De Anima Cap. 20. & Tract. 3. Cap. 13. Aegidius Lib. 3. De Anima ad Cap. 4. Durandus in 2 Dist. 18. Qu 3. Ferrarius loco citato contra gentes, & latè Eugubinus L. 9. De perenni Philosophia Cap. 18. & quod pluris est, discipulus Aristotelis Theophrastus, magistri mentem & ore & calamo novisse penitus qui poterat.

In contrariam factionem abiere nonnulli Patres, nec infirmi Philosophi; Justinus in sua paraenesi, Origines in [...], & ut fertur Nazianzenus in Disp. contrà Eunom. & Nyssenus Lib. 2. de Anima Cap. 4. Theodoretus de Curandis Graecorum Affectibus Lib. 3. Galenus in Historia Philosophica, Pomponatius L. de Immortalitate Animae, Simon Portius L. de Mente Humana, Cajetanus 3. de Anima Cap. 2. In eum sensum, ut caducum Animum nostrum putaret Aristoteles, sunt partim adducti ab Alexandro Aphodis de Auditore, qui sic solitus erat interpretari Aristotelicam mentem; quamvis Eugubinus Cap. 21. & 22▪ eum excuset. Et quidem unde collegisse videtur Alexander mortalitatem, nempe ex 12. Metap [...] inde S. Thomas, Theodorus Metochytes immortalitatem collegerunt.

Porrò Tertullianum neutram hanc opinionem amplexum credo; sed putasse in hac parte ambiguum Aristotelem. Itaque ita citat illum pro utraque: Nam cum hic adscribat Aristoteli mortalitatem animae, tamen L. de Anima C. 6. pro contraria opinione immortalitatis citat. Eadem mente fuit Plutarchus, pro utraque opinione advocans eundem Philosophum in L. 5. de placitis Philosoph. Nam. Cap. 1. mortalitatem tribuit, & Cap. 25. immortalitatem. Ex Scholasticis etiam, qui in neutram partem Aristotelem constantem judicant, sed dubium & ancipitem, sunt Scotus in 4. Dist. 43. Qu. 2. Art. 2. Harveus quodlib. 1. Q. 11. & 1. Sent. Dist. 1. Q. 1. Niphus in opusculo de Immortalitate Animae Cap. 1. & recentes alii Interpretes: quam mediam existimationem credo veriorem, sed Scholii lex vetat, ut authoritatum pondere librato illud suadeam.

I deliver all these Quotations as true, upon the integrity of the Commentator; as thinking it would be loss of time to stand to verifie them. Nor have I all those curious Books by me, from which they were taken. I add no new ones of my own, as not envying him the Glory of having made a good Collection. And it would still be a greater loss of time to do it, though a Man should only turn over the Indices of Aristotle's Commentators.

We see then in this Passage of La Creda, that Men of Books and Study, that have pass'd for the Ingenious of their Times, have taken abundant Pains to know whether Aristotle believed the Immortality of the Soul: and there have been some of them who are able to write Books peculiarly on the Subject, as Pomponatius. For that Author's chief Design in his Book is, to shew that Aristotle believ'd the Soul was Mortal. And possibly there are others, who not only are solicitous to know what were Aristotle's thoughts upon this Subject; but who moreover look upon it as a very important Question to know, for instance, whether Tertullian, Plutarch, or others, believ'd or not, whether it was Aristotle's Opinion that the Soul was Mortal. As there is great Reason to suppose from La Cerda himself, if we reflect only on the latter part of the Passage we have quoted, Porrò Tertullianum, &c.

Though it be an useless thing, to know what Aristotle believ'd concerning the Immortality of the Soul, and what were Tertullian's and Plutarch's thoughts concerning Aristotle's belief; yet the foundation of the Question, The Immortality of the Soul, is at least a Truth very necessary to be known. But there are infinite things, the Knowledge whereof is very impertinent and useless; and consequently more useless still, to know what were the Ancient thoughts about them: and yet there are Men very anxious and inquisitive in conjecturing the Opinions of Philosophers on such sort of Subjects. There are found whole Books full of these ridiculous Inquiries; and 'tis these nois [...]e trifles that have been the occasion of so many Wars among the Learned.

These vain and impertinent Questions, these ridiculous Genealogies of fruitless Opinions, are the important Subjects for the Criticisms of the Learned. They think they have the Right and Privilege of dispising those who dispise these Fooleries, and of treating as ignorant Persons such as glory in being ignorant of them. They imagine they are perfect Masters of the History and Genealogy of Substantial Forms; and the Age is ungrateful unless it acknowledge their Merit. These things manifestly discover the weakness and vanity of the Mind of Man; and that when Reason does not govern his Study, his Studies are so far from perfecting his Reason, that they darken, corrupt, and totally pervert it.

[Page]'Tis worth while here to observe, that in Questions of Faith 'tis no fault to search into the Belief of St. Austin (for instance) or any other Father of the Church; nor even to make Inquiry whether St. Austin's Belief was the same as his Predecessors. Because matters of Faith are only learn'd by Tradition, and Reason is unable to discover them. The most Ancient Faith being the most true; we must endeavour to know what was the Faith of the Ancients; which cannot be done but by Examining the Opinion of several Persons who have succeeded one another in several times. But things which depend on Reason are quite of another Nature; and we ought not to be solicitous about the Opinion of the Ancients, to know what we ought to hold concerning them. Yet I know not by what strange subversion of Reason some Men are angered, if we speak otherwise in Philosophy, than Aristotle has done; and yet take it very patiently to hear a Man talk in Divinity contrary to the Gospel, the Fathers, and Councils. I am of Opinion that those who make the greatest out-cry against the Novelties of Philosophy, which ought to be had in Esteem, are the most obstinate and zealous Patrons and Defenders of certain Novelties in Divinity; which ought to be had in abhorrence. For 'tis not their Terms and Language we disapprove; which (as unknown as they were to Antiquity) are Authoriz'd by Custom. 'Tis the Errors they diffuse and support by the help of this Equivocal and confus'd Dialect which we condemn.

In point of Divinity we ought to be fond of Antiquity, because we ought to love the Truth; which Truth is found in Antiquity. And all Curiosity ought to cease, when once we have taken hold of Truth. But in point of Philosophy we ought on the contrary to love Novelty; for the same Reason that we ought always to love the Truth; that we ought to retrieve it; and ought to have an Indefatigable Curiosity for it. If Plato and Aristotle were believed Infallible, a Man should perhaps apply himself to the understanding of them only: But Reason opposes the Belief of it. Reason, on the contrary, would have us judge them more ignorant than the New Philosophers; since in the Age we live in, the World is two thousand Years older, and has learned greater Experience, than it had in the days of Aristotle and Plato; as we have already said: And the New Philosophers may know all the Truths the Ancients have left us; and find out, and add a great many more to them. Yet Reason will not have us believe these New Philosophers any more than the Old upon their bare Word. It bids us, on the contrary, examine attentively their Thoughts, and withhold our consent, till there is no longer room for doubting, without being ridiculously prepossess'd with the Opinion of their vast Knowledge, or the other specious Qualities of their Mind.

CHAP. VII.

Of the Prepossession of Commentators.

THIS Prepossession is no where apparent in so strange and excessive a degree, as in the Commentators on an Author; because the Undertakers of this Task, which seems too low and servile for a Man of Sense, imagine their Authors merit the Praise and Admiration of all the World. They look upon them as part of themselves, and fancy they are Body and Soul to one another; and upon this View, Self-love admirably plays its part. They artfully accumulate Encomiums on their Authors, they shed Light and Radiations round them, they load them with Glory, as knowing they shall have it themselves by reflection and rebound. This great and lofty Idea not only magnifies Aristotle and Plato in the Mind of many of the Readers, but imprints a respect in them for all that have Commented upon them; and some of of them had never Deified their Authors, had they not fancy'd themselves incircl'd, as it were, in the Rays of the same Glory.

Yet I will not say that all Commentators are so liberal in their Panegyricks on their Authors, out of hopes of a Return; some of them would start at such an Apprehension, if they would consider a little: They are sincere and well-meaning in their Praises, without any Politick design, and without thinking what they do; but Self-love thinks for them, and without their being aware of it. Men are insensible of the heat that is in their Heart, though it gives Life and Motion to all the other parts of their Body. They must touch and handle themselves to be convinc'd of it, because this Heat is Natural. The cause is the same in respect of Vanity, which is so congenial to the Mind of Man, that he is insensible of it; and though 'tis this (as a Man may say) that gives Life and Motion to the greatest part of his Thoughts and Designs, yet it often does it in a manner imperceptible by him. He must handle, and feel, and sound himself inwards to know that he is vain. 'Tis not sufficiently understood that 'tis Vanity which is the First mover, in the greatest part of Humane Actions; and though Self-love knows this well enough, it knows it only to disguise it from the rest of Man.

A Commentator then being some ways related, and allied to his Author that he works upon; Self-love never fails to discover in him notable Subjects for Praise and Incense, with design to make them redound to the advantage of the Offerer. And this is perform'd in so Artificial, so Subtil, and Delicate a manner, as to be wholly Imperceptible. But this is not the proper place of exposing all the Wiles of Self-love and Interest.

[Page]Nor is the Prejudicate Esteem Commentators have conceiv'd for their Authors, and the Honour they do themselves in praising them, the only Reason of Sacrificing to them: Custom is another Motive, and because they think the Practise necessary. There are Men who have no great Esteem either for certain Sciences or Authors, who notwithstanding fall zealously to writing Comments on them; because either their Imployment, Chance, or perhaps a capricious Humour has engag'd them in the Attempt: and these too think they are under an Obligation to be excessive in the Praises of the Sciences, and Authors which they work on; whe nat the same time the Authors are Silly and Impertinent; and the Sciences Ignoble and Useless.

And indeed what can be more ridiculous, than for a Man to undertake to Comment on an Author whom he thought Impertinent, and to write Seriously on a Subject he believ'd to be Insignificant and Useless? 'Tis necessary therefore to the Preserving his Reputation, to Praise both the Authors and Sciences; though both one and the other are Contemptible, and nothing worth: and the fault of Undertaking an ill work must be mended with another. Which is the Reason that when Learned Men Comment on different Authors, they fall into Absurdities and Contradictions.

Upon this Account it is, that almost all prefaces have as little of Truth in them as good Sense. If a Man Comments upon Aristotle, he is the Genius of Nature. If a Man writes upon Plato, 'tis the Divine Plato. They hardly ever Comment upon the works of Plain Men: but 'tis always of Men wholly Divine; of Men who have been the Admiration of their Age, and who have been bless'd by Providence with Light and Understanding above the rest of Mankind. 'Tis the same thing too with the matter they treat on: 'Tis always the finest, the most exalted, and most necessary of all other.

But that I may not be credited upon my bare word, I will deliver here the way, where in a Famous Commentator among the Learned, treats the Author that he Comments on. I mean Averroes who speaks of Aristotle. He says in his Preface upon the Physicks of that Philosopher, that he was the Inventor of Logick, Moral Philosophy, and Metaphysicks; and that he has carried them to the top of their perfection. Complevit, (says he) quia nullus eorum, qui secuti sunt eum usque ad hoc tempus, quod est mille & quingentorum annorum, quidquam addidit; nec invenies in ejus verbis errorem alicujus quantitatis; & talem esse virtutem in individuo uno miraculosum & extraneum existit: & haec dispositio cùm in uno homine reperitur, dignus est esse Divinus magìs quam humanus. And in other places he still bestows more pompous and magnificent praises on him: As Lib. 1. de Generatione Animalium. Laudemus Deum qui separavit hunc virum ab aliis in perfectione, appropriavitque ei ultimam dignitatem humanam, quam non omnis homo potest in quacunque aetate attingere. The same he says of him, Lib. 1. Dest. Disp. 3. Aristotelis doctrina est SVMMA VERITAS, quoniam ejus intellectus fuit finis humani intellectûs: quare bené dicitur de illo, quód ipse fuit creatus & datus nobis Divinâ providentiâ, ut non ignoremus poss [...]bilia sciri.

Must not a Man be mad in good earnest that will talk at this rate? And must not his Bigottry for this Author be degenerated into Extravagance and Folly? Aristotle's Doctrine is the SOVEREIGN TRUTH. 'Tis impossible for any man to equal him or come near him in Science. This is the Man that was sent us from Heaven, to teach us all that is possible to be known. This is he upon whom all the wise Men are form'd; and they are so much more learn'd, as they better understand him. As he says in another place: Aristoteles fuit Princeps per quem perficiuntur omnes Sapientes, qui fuerunt post eum: licèt differant inter se in intelligendo verba ejus, & in eo quod sequitur ex eis. And yet the Works of this Commentator have been dispersed over all Europe, and into Countries farther remote. They have been translated out of Arabick into Hebrew; out of Hebrew into Latin, and it may be into many other Languages: Which Manifestly shews what Esteem the Learned have had for them. So that a more sensible instance than this, cannot be given of the Prepossession of Men of Study. For it evidently shews, that they are not only Opinionated with an Author themselves, but also communicate their Bigottry to others, proportionably to the Esteem the World conceives of them. And thus these false Praises Commentators load him with, are often the cause, that Men of no very brightned Parts, who betake themselves to the Reading of them, are prepossessed, and thereby led into infinite Error. See here another instance.

A Man renowned among the Learned, who Founded the Geometry, Praelectiones 13 in principium Elementorum Euclidis. and Astronomy Lectures in the Vniversity of Oxford, begins a Book, which he wrote upon the Eight first Propositions of Euclid, with these Words. Consilium meum est, Auditores, si vires & valetudo suffecerint, explicare Definitiones, Petitiones, communes Sententias, & octo priores Propositiones primi libri Elementorum; caetera post me venientibus relinquere. And he concludes with these words. Exolvi per Dei gratiam, Domini Auditores, promissum, liberavi fidem meam, explicavi pro modulo meo Definitiones, Petitiones, communes Sententias, & octo priores Propositiones Elementorum Euclidis. Hîc annis fessus cyclos artem (que) repono. Succedent in hoc munus alii fortasse magis vegeto corpore, vivido ingenio, &c. A Man of a competent Sense would not require more than an hour's time, to learn of himself, or with the help of the meanest Geometrician, the Definitions, Postulates, Axioms, and the Eight first Propositions of Euclid: they have very little need of any Explication: and yet here is an Author that talks of his Enterprize, as of some very difficult and mighty Undertaking. He is apprehensive least his strenth should fail him, Si vires & valetudo suffecerint. He leaves the Prosecution of them to his Successors. Caetera post me venientibus relinquere. He thanks GOD for having, through his particular Mercy, accomplish'd and made good what he promis'd. Exolvi per Dei gratiam promissum; liberavi fidem meam: Explicavi pro modulo meo. What? the Quadrature of the Circle? the Duplication of the Cube? This Great Man has explain'd pro modulo suo, the Definitions, Postulates, Axioms, and the Eight first Propositions of the first Book of Euclid's Element [...]. [Page] Possibly amongst those who shall succeed him, there may some be found of a stronger and healthier Constitution than himself, to carry on so great a Work. Succedent in hoc munus alii FORTASSE magis vegeto corpore & vivido ingenio. But as for his part, he has done enough to sit down and rest. Hêc annis fessus cyclos artémque reponit.

Euclid never thought of being so obscure, or of saying such extraordinary things, when he compos'd his Elements, as should necessarily demand a In Qua [...] to. Book of near three hundred pages to explain his Definitions, Axioms, Postulates, and Eight first Propositions. But this Learned Englishman knew how to enhance the Science of Euclid, and if Age would have permitted him, and he had but continued in the same Vigour, we should at present have had a dozen or fifteen mighty Volumes, upon Euclid's Elements only, which doubtless would have been very beneficial to Novice Pretenders to Geometry, and had made much for the Honour of Euclid.

See what whimsical designs a falsly term'd Learning can put Men upon. This Gentleman was vers'd in the Greek Tongue; for we are oblig'd to him for a Greek Edition of St. Chrysostom's Works. He possibly had read the Ancient Geometricians: He could give an Historical Account of their Propositions, no less than their Descent and Genealogy. He had all the respect for Antiquity, that ought to be had for Truth; and what is it such a Disposition of Mind produces? A Commentary upon the Definitions of Terms, the Demands, Axioms, and the Eight first Propositions of Euclid; much harder to be understood and remembred, I do not say, than the Propositions he commented on; but than all that ever Euclid wrote on Geometry.

There are many Men that out of Vanity talk in Greek, and even sometimes in a strange Language they don't themselves understand: For Dictionaries no less than Indices, and Common Places, are very great helps to some sorts of Authors: But there are very few of Prudence enough to keep in their Greek upon a Subject, where it is needless and impertinent to make use of it. And this makes me believe it was Prepossession, and an inordinate Esteem for Euclid, that form'd in our Author's Imagination, the first Design of his Book.

If this Gentleman had made as much use of his Reason as his Memory, in a Matter where Reason should have only been imploy'd: or if he had had as great a Respect and Love for Truth, as Veneration for the Author he went to expound; there is great Probability that having mispent so much time upon so frivolous a Subject, he would have acknowledg'd Euclid's Definitions of a Plane Angle, and Parallel Lines, to be Vicious and Defective, and inexpressive of the Nature of them; and that the Second Proposition is impertinent, since the Proof of it depends upon the Third Postulate, which is harder to be granted than that Second Proposition; since in granting that Third Postulate, which is, That we may describe from any Point a Circle at what interval we please, we not only grant that a Line may be drawn from a Point equal to another Line; which Euclid effects in that Proposition after a very round-about manner: But we allow, that from any Point may be drawn an infinite number of Lines, of what length we please.

But the Design of most Commentators is not to Illuminate their Authors, and to find out Truth; 'tis to make Ostentation of their Learning, and implicitly to defend the Authors which they Comment on, even to their Vices. 'Tis not so much to make themselves or their Authors understood, they talk, as to make him admir'd, and themselves together with him. If the Gentleman before-mention'd, had not stuff'd his Book with Sentences of Greek, with a great many Names of unheard of Authors, and such other useless Observations, for the understanding Common Notions, Verbal Definitions, and Geometrical Postulates, who would have read his Book? who would have admir'd him? or who would have conferr'd on its Author the Honorary Title of Learned, or of a Man of Sense?

I presume it can't be doubted after what I have said, but the Indiscrete Reading of Books often prepossesses the Mind. But as soon as Prepossession enters in, that which we call Common Sense, is banish'd out of it. 'Tis incapable of Judging soberly of any thing any way relative to the Subject of its Prepossession: It stains and tinctures with it every Thought; nay, it cannot apply it self to Subjects quite remote from those it is prejudic'd for. Thus a Man opinionated with Aristotle, can relish nothing but Aristotle: He must judge of every thing with relation to Aristotle. What does not accord with that Philosopher, seems false; he has constantly some Saying of Aristotle in his Mouth; he is citing him upon all occasions, and all sorts of Subjects, both to prove things so obscure, as no Man can comprehend; and to prove things so self-evident, as Children cannot doubt of; because Aristotle is to him what Reason and Evidence are to others.

So if a Man be possess'd with the conceit of Euclid and Geometry, he will be for reducing every thing you shall say to him, to the Lines and Propositions of his darling Author, and shall talk nothing but with reference to his Science. The whole would not be bigger than its part; but because Eulid has said it: nor will he be asham'd to quote him for the Proof of it, as I have sometimes observ'd. But this is still more customary with those who are devoted to other Authors, than those of Geometry; in whose Books nothing is more frequent than Greek, Hebrew, Arabick Citations, to prove things as evident as the Sun at Mid-day.

All this is occasion'd by Reason that the Traces imprinted on the Fibres of the Brain by the Objects of their Prepossession are so deep, as always to remain gaping and half open: And the Animal Spirits continually passing through them, preserve them so without permitting them to close again. So that the Soul having always of necessity, the Thoughts that are connected with these Traces, becomes as it were enslav'd to them; and she is ever troubled, and disquieted, even when knowing she is wrong, she is willing to be Righted. Thus she is in constant danger of falling into a [Page] great number of Errors, unless she stands always upon her guard, with an inviolable Resolution of observing the Rule given in the beginning of this Work; that is, of Denying an entire Consent, except to things entirely evident.

I pass over the evil Choice that is generally made of the kind of Study Men apply themselves to, as properly belonging to Moral Philosophy, to treat of; though it may likewise be reduc'd here to what has been said of Prepossession. For when a Man is fallen beyond retrival into the Reading of the Rabbins, and Books of all sorts of most unknown, and consequently most useless Languages; and spends his whole Life therein; he does it doubtless out of Prepossession, and the Imaginary hopes of becoming Learned: though it is impossible by that Method to acquire any true Sience. But because this Application to unprofitable Studies does not so much subject us to Error, as waste our Time, to possess us with a foolish Vanity; I shall not speak here of those who fondly think of becoming Learned in all these sorts of sordid and unprofitable Sciences, the number whereof is very great, and the Study usually too passionate and earnest.

CHAP. VIII.

I. Of the Inventors of new Systems. II. The last Error of Men of Learning.

WE have been manifesting the state of the Imagination of Men, of Books, and Study,I. Of the Inventors of new Systems. who resign up all to the Authority of some certain particular Authors. There are others still very opposite to these; who have no respect at all for Authors, let their Esteem be what it will among the Learned. If they esteem'd them formerly, they are now of a contrary Mind, and set themselves up for Authors. They love to be thought Inventors of some new Opinions, thereby to procure Reputation in the World: and are well satisfy'd, that by saying something that was never said before, they shall not fail to have their Admirers.

This sort of People are generally of a strong Imagination; the Fibres of their Brain are in such a disposition, as to preserve for a long time the Traces of what has been imprinted on them. Thus when once they have imagin'd a System that has in it any thing of probability, 'tis impossible to beat them out of it. Whatever any way makes for its confirmation, is most heartily embrac'd and retain'd. And on the contrary, all the Objections that are made to it, are over-look'd; at least are eluded by some frivolous Distinction. They are inwardly pleas'd with the sight of their own Workmanship; and of the Esteem, they hope, will redound to them from it. They only apply themselves to consider the Image of Truth, deduc'd from their probable Opinions. They fix this Image stedfastly before their Eyes, but never behold with a steddy View the other sides of their Sentiments, which would betray their Falshood.

There must go great Qualifications, to capacitate a Man to be the Inventor of any true System. For 'tis not enough to have a quickness of Parts; there must besides be a certain Capaciousness of Thoughts, and Reach of Mind, which can at one View take in a clear prospect of a great many things. Little and narrow Minds with all their Vivacity and Delicacy, are too short-sighted to survey all that is necessary to be seen, for the establishing a System. They are check'd and even stop'd with some little Difficulties that discourage them; or with some glimmering Lights, which dazzle and carry them away: their Sight is too narrow to survey at once the whole body of a capacious Subject.

But however Capacious and Penetrating the Mind is, unless it be withal exempt from Passion and Prejudice, there is no Good to be hoped from it. Prejudices take up one part of their Mind, and tinge and infect all the rest. The Passions confound all the Idea's a thousand ways; and make us generally discover in the Objects, all that we have a mind to find in them. Even the Passion, that we have for Truth, sometimes deceives us, when it is too vehement; But the Ambition to be thought Learned, is the great Impediment to our becoming really so.

Nothing then is more rare and extraordinary, than to find such Men as are capable of making new Systems; and yet nothing is more common than to find such, as have fram'd some System or other to their Humour. We see few of those, who study much, reason upon common Notions; there is ever some Irregularity in their Idea's; which is an evident sign they have some particular System we are unaquainted with. 'Tis true, all the Books they compose, do not savour of it. For when their Business is to write for the Publick, Men are more cautious of what they say; and a bare Attention is often enough to undeceive them. Yet we see Books Publish'd from time to time, which are a sufficient Proof of what I say. And there are Persons who are proud to let the World know at the beginning of their Book, that they are the Founders of some new System.

The number of the Inventors of new Systems is much increas'd by those, who have been prepossess'd with any Author. For it often falls out, that having not met with Truth, nor any solid foundation in their Opinions of the Authors they have read; they first enter into a great Dislike, and an high Contempt of all sorts of Books; and thereupon fall to Imagining some probable Opinion, which they hug and cherish, and wherein they strengthen themselves in the manner I have explain'd.

[Page]But as soon as this Heat of Affection for any Opinion is boyl'd over and abated, or the Design of Appearing in Publick has oblig'd them to examine it with a more exact and serious Attention; they discover the Falsity of it, and throw it up; but with this Condition, that they will never take up any other, but utterly condemn all those, who shall pretend to the Discovery of any Truth.

So that the last and most dangerous Error, which Men of Study fall into, is their Imagining there can be nothing known. They have read many Books, both Ancient and Modern, and have miss'd of Truth in them: They have had many fine Notions of their own, which they have found to be false,II. A Considerable Error of Studious Men. after a more strict and attentive Examination. From whence they conclude that all Men are like themselves; and that if those who fancy they have discover'd some Truths should seriously consider them; they would be undeceiv'd as well as themselves. And this is enough for them to condemn them, without making any more particular Enquiry; because if they did not condemn them, it would be a kind of Confession, that they were wiser than themselves; a thing they cannot think very probable.

They look therefore upon those as Bigotted to their own Thoughts, who give out any thing as certain and infallible: Nor will they suffer a Man to talk of Sciences, as of Evident Truths, which cannot reasonably be doubted of; but only as of Opinions, of which it is good not to be ignorant. Yet these Gentlemen would do well to consider, that though they have read a great number of Books, yet they have not read all; or that they have not read them with all the Attention, that was necessary to a perfect Understanding of them. And that though they have had many fine Thoughts, which they have found false in the Conclusion, yet they have not had all that are possible; and so 'tis no improbable thing, that others should have found better than themselves. Nor is it necessary, absolutely speaking, that others should have greater Sense than they, if that offends them; for 'tis enough to have had greater Fortune. They need not be affronted to hear it said, That others have Evident Knowledge of what they are Ignorant; since we say at the same time, that many Ages have been ignorant of the same Truths: Not for want of excellent Wits; but because these excellent Wits have not luckily fall'n upon them.

Let them not be angry therefore, that a Man sees clearly, and speaks as he sees; but let them apply themselves to what is said to them, if their Minds be still capable of Application, after all their Excursions; and then let them judge if they please. But if they will not examine it, let them hold their Tongue. But I would have them reflect a little, whether that Answer so readily made by them, to most of the things demanded of them, No body Vnderstands it, No body knows how 'tis done, be not an injudicious Answer? Since to answer so, a Man must of necessity believe he knows all that all Men know, or all that is possible to be known by them. For had they not this Notion of themselves, their Answer would be still more impertinent. And why should they be so hard put to it, to say they know nothing of them; since in some particular junctures, they acknowledge they know nothing at all? And why must all Men be concluded Ignorant, because they are inwardly convinc'd they are Ignorant themselves?

There are then three sorts of Persons that apply themselves to Study. The first are such as are preposterously Bigotted to some Author, or some insignificant or false Science: The second are such as are prepossess'd, and full with their own Fancies: The last, which usually proceed from the other two, are such as Imagine they know all that is possible to be known; and who fancying they know nothing with Certainty, conclude universally that nothing can be Evidently known, and regard all things that they hear, as bear Opinions.

'Tis easie to be seen that all the Faults, incident to these three sorts of Men, depend on the Properties of the Imagination, explain'd in the X. and XI. Chapters, and especially of the First. That all this is owing to Prejudice, which choaks up their Minds, and makes them insensible to all other Objects, but those they are prepossess'd with. It may be said that their Prejudices do in their Minds, what the Ministers of Princes do in respect of their Masters; for as these Gentlemen permit, as little as possible, any others than those of their own Party and Interest, or such as are unable to displace them from their Master's Favour, to come to the speech of them; so the Prejudices of the former suffer not their Minds to take a full View of the pure and unmix'd Idea's of Objects. But they disguise them; they cloath them with their own Liveries; and thus all mask'd and discolour'd present them to the Mind: So that 'tis next to impossible it should discover, and throw off its Errors.

CHAP. IX.

[Page]

I. Of Effeminate Minds. II. Of Superficial Minds. III. Of Men of Authority. IV. Of the Experimental Philosophers.

I Have, if I mistake not, said enough to discover in general, what are the Faults of Imagination; and the Errors whereunto Men of Books and Study are most obnoxious. Now whereas there are few besides, who trouble their heads with Searching after Truth; and the rest of the World take up with their Opinion; it seems we might put an end here to this Second Part. However, 'tis not amiss to add something concerning the Errors of other Men; as being no unuseful thing to take notice of them.

Whatever flatters the Senses, extreamly affect us; and whatever affects us, makes us mind it in proportion to its affecting us.I. Of Effeminate Minds Thus those who resign themselves up to all sorts of most Sensible and Pleasing Diversions, are incapable of Penetrating into Truths ever so little abstruse and difficult; because the Capacity of the Mind, which is not infinite, is fill'd up with their Pleasures; or at least is very much divided by them.

The generality of Great Men, of Courtiers, of Rich, and Young, and of those we call the fine Wits, giving themselves to perpetual Diversions, and studying only the Art of Pleasing, by all that gratifie the Concupiscence and the Senses; by degrees obtain such a Niceness in these things, or such a Softness, that it may be often said, they are rather the Effeminate, than the fine Wits, which they would fain be thought. There is a great deal of difference betwixt a true Fineness, and Softness of Mind. Though these two things are ordinarily confounded.

The Fine, or the Curious Wits are those whose Reason descend to the least Differences of things. Who fore-see Effects which depend on hidden, un-usual, and invisible Causes. In brief, they are those who dive farthest into the Subjects they consider. But the soft Minds have only a counterfeit Delicacy and Niceness. They are neither Lively nor Piercing: They cannot see the Effects of even the most gross and palpable Causes. In short, they are unable to comprehend or penetrate any thing; but are wonderfully nice as to Modes and Fashions. An ungentile Word, a Rustick Accent, or a little Grimace, shall provoke them infinitely more than a confus'd mass of lame and inconcluding Reasons. They cannot discover the Defect of an Argument, but can critically discern a false Step or an incompos'd Gesture. In a word, they have a perfect Understanding of Sensible things, as having made continual use of their Senses; but have no true Knowledge of things depending on Reason, because they have scarce ever imploy'd their own.

Yet these are the Men that flourish most in the Esteem of the World; and who most easily advance to the Reputation of the Fine Wits. For when a Man talks with a free and easie Air; when his Expressions are pure, and well chosen; when he serves himself with Figures that please the Senses, and excite the Passions in an imperceptible manner; though what he says be nothing but Impertinence and Folly, though there be nothing good or true in his Discourse, yet he shall be voted by the common Opinion the Fine, the Curious, the Acute Wit. 'Tis not perceiv'd that this is only a Soft and Effeminate Mind, that glitters with false Lights, but never shines out with a genuine Brightness; that only perswades because we have Eyes, and not because we have Reason.

For what remains, I do not deny but that all Men have a Tincture of this Infirmity we have now remark'd in some part of them. There is no Man whose Mind is not touch'd with the Impressions of his Senses and Passions; and consequently who has not some Adherences to Sensible Manners. All Men differ in this but in degree of more or less. But the Reason of charging this Fault upon some particular Men, is, because there are those who acknowledge it to be a Fault, and labour to correct it: Whereas the Men we have been speaking of, look upon it as a very advantagious Quality: They are so far from owning this false Delicacy as the Effect of an Effeminate Softness, and the Original of infinite Distempers to the Mind, as to imagine it the Product and Sign of the Beauty and Excellency of their Genius.

To these may be added a vast number of Superficial Minds,II. Of Superficial Minds. who never go to the bottom of things; and have but a confus'd Perception of the Differences between them; but they are not in the Fault, as are those before-mention'd; for 'tis not their Divertisements that straiten their Souls and make them little-minded; but they are naturally so. This Littleness of Mind proceeds not from the Nature of the Soul, as may perhaps be imagin'd. 'Tis effected sometimes by the paucity or dulness of the Animal Spirits, sometimes by an immoderate plenty of the Blood and Spirits, by the inflexibility of the Fibres of the Brain, or by some other Cause not necessary to be known.

There are then two sorts of Minds. The one easily observes the differences of things; and this is the solid Mind. The other imagines and supposes a resemblance between them, which is the superficial Character. The first has a Brain fitly dispos'd for the Reception of the clear and distinct Traces of the Objects it considers; and because 'tis very attentive to the Idea's of these Traces, it sees the Objects at hand, and surveys every part of them. But the Superficial Mind receives only the faint and confus'd Traces thereof; and that, by the by, very remotely and obscurely; insomuch that they appear alike, as the Faces of those we behold at too great a distance; because the Mind ever supposes Similitude and Equality, where 'tis not oblig'd to acknowledge Difference and Inequality; for the Reasons I shall give in the Third Book.

[Page]In this Class may be reckon'd all your Publick Haranguers, and great Talkers; and many of those who have a great Facility at delivering themselves, though they speak but seldom. For 'tis extreamly rare for Men of serious Meditation, to be able to express themselves clearly upon the things they have thought. They generally hesitate when they come to Discourse about them, as being scrupulous and fearful of using such Terms, as may excite a false Idea in the Hearers. Being asham'd to talk purely for Talking sake (as is the way with a great many who talk peremptorily on all adventures.) They are at a loss at finding words expressive of their un-obvious and not common Thoughts.

III. Of Men of Authority.Though I have the greatest Deference and Esteem imaginable for Pious Men, Divines, and Aged Persons, and, in general, for all those who have deservedly a great Sway and Authority over others; yet I think my self oblig'd to say thus much of them, That it is usual for them to think themselves infallible, because the World hears them with Respect; that they exercise their Mind but little in discovering Speculative Truths; that they are too liberal in condemning whatever their Pleasure and Humour suggests, before they have attentively consider'd it. Not that they are to be blam'd, for not applying themselves to the Study of many Sciences, not very necessary for them to know; we allow them to omit them, and likewise to despise them; but 'tis not fair to judge of them out of a fanciful dislike, and ill-grounded suspicions. For they ought to consider that the Serious Air and Gravity wherewith they speak, the Authority they have obtain'd over the Minds of others, and that customary way of confirming their Discourse with a Text of Scripture, must unavoidably engage in Error their respectful Auditors; who being incapable of Examining things to the bottom, are caught with Modes and external Appearances.

When Error comes cloath'd in the Dress of Truth, it frequently has more respect than Truth it self: And this illegitimate Respect has very dangerous Consequences: Pessima res est Errorum Apotheosis, & pro peste intellectûs habenda est si vanis accedat veneratio. Thus when some Men out of a false Zeal, or a Fondness for their own Thoughts, bring the Holy Scripture to countenance or support false Principles of Physicks, or other of like Nature, they are often attended to as Oracles, by the admiring Crowd, who credit them upon their word, because of the Reverence they ascribe to Divine Authority: When at the same time some Men of a worse Complection, have taken occasion hereby to contemn Religion. So that by strangely perverting its Nature, Holy Scripture has been the Cause of some Men's Errors; and Truth has been the Motive and Original to other's Impiety. We should then be cautious, says the fore-cited Author, of searching after Dead things among the Living; and of presuming by our own Sagacity of Mind▪ to discover in the Holy Scriptures, what the Holy Spirit has not thought fit to declare in it. Ex Divinorum & Humanorum malesanâ admixtion [...], continues he, non solum educitur Philosophia phantastica, sed etiam Religio haeretica. Ita (que) salutare admodum est si mente sobriâ fidei tantum dentur quae fidei sunt. All Men, who have any Authority over others, ought never to determine till they have so much the more seriously consider'd, as their Determinations are more obstinately adher'd to; and Divines should be more especially regardful, lest they give scandal and contempt to Religion, through a false Zeal, by an ambitious desire of their own Fame, and of giving Vogue to their Opinions. But it being not my Business to prescribe to them their Duty, let them hearken to St. Thomas Aquinas their Master,Opusc. 2. who being consulted by his General for his Opinion touching some Points, answers him in these words of St. Austin.

Multùm autem nocet talia, quae ad pietatis doctrinam non spectant, vel asserere vel negare, quasi pertinentia ad Sacram doctrinam. Dicit enim Augustinus in 5. Confess. Cùm audio Christianum aliquem fratrem ista quae Philosophi de coelo aut stellis & de Solis & Lunae motibus dixer [...]nt, nescientem, & aliud pro alio sentien [...]em, patienter intueor opinantem hominem; nec illi obesse video cum de te, Domine Creator omnium nostrûm, non credat indigna, si fortè situs & habitus creaturae corporalis ignoret. Obest autem si haec ad ipsam d [...]ctrinam pietatis pertinere arbitretur, & pertinacius affirmare audeat quod ignorat. Quod autem obsit manifestat Augustinus in 1. super Genes. Ad literam. Turpe est, inquit, nimis & perniciosum ac maximê cavendum, ut Christianum de his rebus quasi secundum Christianas literas loquentem, ita delirare quilibet infidelis audiat, ut quemadmodum dicitur toto coelo errare conspiciens; risum tenere vix possit. Et non tamen molestum est, quod errans homo videatur: sed quod Authores nostri ab eis qui foris sunt, talia sensisse creduntur & cum magno eorum exitio, de quorum salute satagimus, tanquam indocti reprehenduntur atque respuuntur. Vnde mihi videtur tutius esse, ut h [...]c quae Philosophi communes senserunt, & nostrae fidei non repugnant, neque esse sic asserenda, ut dogmata fidei, licet aliquandò sub nomine Philosophorum introducantur, neque sic [...]sse neganda tanquam fidei contraria, ne sapientibus hujus mundi contemnendi doctrinam fidei, occasio praebeatur:

'Tis a dangerous thing positively to determine concerning matters, that are not of Faith, as if they were: St. Austin is our Author for it, in the fifth Book of his Confessions: ‘When I see (says he) a Christian, who is un-instructed in the Opinions of Philosophers about the Heavens, the Stars, and the Motion of the Sun and Moon, and who mistakes one thing for another; I I leave him to his Opinions and Uncertainties. Nor do I see what injury it can do him (provided he has right Notions of Thee our LORD and CREATOR) to be ignorant of the Site and Position of Bodies, and the different Regulations of Material Beings. But he does himself wrong, in that he fancies these things concern Religion, and takes upon him obstinately to affirm what he does not understand.’ The same Holy Man explains his Thoughts more clearly yet, in his first Book of the literal Exposition of Genesis, in these Words. ‘A Christian should be extreamly cautious of speaking of these things, as if they were the Doctrine of the Sacred [Page] Writings; since an Heathen who should hear him utter his Absurdities, that had no appearance of Truth, would Ridicule him for it. Thus the Christian would be put in confusion, and the Heathen but ill-edify'd. Yet that, which on these occasions is matter of greatest trouble, is, not that a Man is found in an Error; but that the Heathens, whom we labour to convert, falsely, and to their unavoidable destruction, imagining that our Authors abound with these ridiculous Notions, condemn them, and spurn them as Ignorant and Unlearned; which makes me think it much the safer way, not to affirm as the Maxims of Faith, the common receiv'd Opinions of Philosophers, though not inconsistent with them, (though the Authority of Philosophers may sometimes be us'd to make way for their reception,) nor to reject their Opinions as contrary to Faith, lest occasion be given to the Wise Men of the World, to contemn the Sacred Truths of the Christian Religion.’

The generality of Men are so careless or unreasonable, as to make no distinction between the Word of GOD and that of Men, when joyn'd together. So that they fall into Error, by approving them both alike; or into Irreligion by the contempt of both indifferently. 'Tis easie to see what is the Cause of these last Errors, and how they depend upon the Connection of Idea's, explain'd in the XI. Chapter; and I need not stand more largely to explain them.

It seems seasonable to say something here of the Chymists, IV. Of such as make Experiments▪ and of all those in general that imploy their time in making Experiments. These are the Men that are in Search after Truth: Their Opinions are usually embrac'd without Scruple and Examination. And thus their Errors are so much the more dangerous, as they are communicated to others with greater Facility.

The Study of Nature is undoubtedly more Noble, than of Books; Visible and Sensible Experiments afford us much more certain Proofs of things, than the Reasonings of Men; and no Objection can be made to those Men, whose Circumstances of Life have engag'd them in the Study of Natural Philosophy, for endeavouring to excel in it, by making continual Experiments; provided their greatest Application be made to the more necessary Sciences. We find no fault with Experimental Philosophy, nor the Improvers of it; but only with their Defects.

The first of which is, that usually 'tis not the Light of Reason which conducts them in the Method of their Experiments, but only Chance. Which is the reason that they grow little more Learned or Skilful, after having wasted much of their Time and Fortune therein.

The second is their insisting rather upon Curious and Extraordinary Experiments, than on those that are more Common; when 'tis plain that the Commoner being the more simple, they ought first to be dwelt upon, before a Man applies himself to the more Compounded, and to those which depend upon a multitude of Causes.

The third is their earnest and diligent Search after Profitable Experiments; and their neglect of those, which only serve to illuminate the Mind.

The fourth, that they are too un-exact in their Observations of all the particular Circumstances of Time, Place, the Quality of the Drugs made use of; though the least of these Circumstances is capable of frustrating the desir'd Effect. For 'tis observable that the Terms the Virtuo [...]i use, are Equivocal: The Word Wine, for instance, signifies so many different things, as there are different Soils, various Seasons, and several ways of making and preserving it. So that it may be said in general, there are no where two Vessels of it altogether alike. And when a Chymist says, To make such an Experiment, take wine, we have but a very confus'd Idea of his meaning. For which Reason they should use a most exact Circumspection in Experiments, and not descend to the Compound sort, till they are very well acquainted with the more Simple and Ordinary.

The fifth is, That they make too many Deductions from a single Experiment; when on the contrary, to the Establishing any one good Conclusion, there should go generally many Experiments. Though a single Experiment may be assistant to the inferring many Conclusions.

Lastly, The most part of Naturalists and Chymists consider only the particular Effects of Nature. They never ascend up to the first Notions of the Things Bodies are compos'd of. When yet it is most certain we can have no clear and distinct knowledge of any particular Phaenomena, unless we are first masters of the most general Principles, and run them up as high as Metaphysicks. To conclude, they commonly want Courage and Constancy, and are tir'd and discourag'd with the Toil and Expence. There are many other Faults these Gentlemen are subject to, but I design not to reckon them all up.

The Causes of these Faults which I have remark'd, are the want of Application; the Properties of the Imagination explain'd in the Tenth and Eleventh Chapters; and Men's judging of the Difference of Bodies, and the Changes they undergo, only from the Sensations they have of them▪ according to the Explication given in the First Book.

The THIRD PART: Concerning The CONTAGIOUS COMMUNICATION Of Strong IMAGINATIONS.

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CHAP I.

I. Of the Disposition we have to imitate others in all things, which is the Original of the Communication of those Errors, that depend on the Power of Imagination. II. Two things that more especially increase this Disposition. III. What that strong Imagination is. IV. That there are several kinds of it. Of Fools, and of those that have a Srong Imagination, in the Sense 'tis here taken. V. Two considerable Imperfections of Men of a Strong Imagination. VI. Of the Power they have to perswade, and impose on others.

HAVING already explain'd the Nature of the Imagination, the Failings it is subject to, and shewn how our own Imagination engages us in Error; all that remains in this Second Book, is to speak to the Contagious Communication of Strong Imaginations, I mean that Sway and Power some Minds have of drawing others into their Errors.

Strong Imaginations are wondrously contagious: They domineer over the weaker, fashion them by degrees after their own Image,I. Of the Disposition we have to imitate others in all things which is the Original of the Communication of those Errors, that depend on the Power of Imagination. and imprint the same Characters upon them. And therefore since Men of Conceit, and of a Vigorous and Strong Imagination, are the least reasonable of any; there are very few Causes of the Errors of Men, more [...]niversal than this dangerous Communication of the Imagination.

In order to conceive what this Contagion is, and how it's transmitted from one to another, we must know that Men are under a mutual necessity of one another's Assistance, and are so fram'd as out of many Bodies to compound one, whereof all the Parts have a mu [...]ual Correspondence. For the preserving and cherishing of which Union, GOD commanded them to have Charity for each other. But whereas Self-love might by little and little extinguish Charity, and break the Bond of Civil Society; GOD thought fit for the Preservation of it, to unite Men more firmly still by Natural Ties, which might subsist in case Charity should fail, and also defend it against the attacks of Self-love.

These Natural Ties, which we have in common with Beasts, consist in a certain Disposition of Brain, which makes all Men prone to imitate the Actions of those they converse with, to frame the same Judgments with them, and to be acted with like Passions they see them possess'd with. Which Disposition is a much straiter Obligation to bind them to each other, than Charity founded upon Reason, this Charity being rarely to be met with.

Now when a Man wants this Disposition of Brain, whereby he may be affected with our Sentiments and Passions, he is Naturally incapable of uniting and making up one Body with us. He may be compar'd to those Irregular Stones that cannot be plac'd in a Building, because they cannot be joyn'd with the others.

Oderunt hilarem tristes, tristemque jocosi,

Sedatum celeres, agilem gnavúmque remissi▪

'Tis a more considerable Vertue than is imagin'd, to keep fair with those who are untouch'd with our Passions, and whose Notions are contrary to our own. And we shall have Reason to think so, if we consider that 'tis a kind of Insulting, when we see a Man that has just cause of Sorrow or Joy, not to take part with him in his Sentiments. When a Man is in Sorrow, one should not come before him with a Gay and Airy look; which bespeaks Joy, and violently imprints the Motions thereof in his Imagination. This being to disturb him from the state that is most convenient and pleasant to him; for sorrow is the pleasantest of all the Passions, to a Man under any Affliction.

[Page]There is then a certain Disposition of Brain in all Men whatever,II. Two things that more especially increase the Disposition we have to imitate others. which naturally inclines them to conform and adapt themselves to the Manners of those they live with. Which Disposition has two more principal means to cherish and augment it; one whereof is in the Soul, and the other in the Body. The former primarily consists in the Inclination all Men have for Eminency and Greatness: Which Inclination is a secret Spur and Incitement to our Talking, Walking, Dressing, and Deporting our selves like Men of Rank and Quality. This is the Origine of the New Modes, of the Inconstancy and Flux of the present Languages, and of certain general Corruptions of Manners. In short, this is the principal Source of all those strange and extravagant Novelties, which have no Foundation in the Reason, but only in the Humour of Men.

The other means that augment this our Imitative Disposition, and which is the Matter chiefly to be spoke to in this place, consists in a certain Impression, which Men of a strong Imagination make upon weak Minds, and delicate and tender Brains.

By the strong and vigorous Imagination, I mean that Constitution of Brain,III. What the Strong Imagination is. which makes it capable of very deep Impressions; which so take up the Capacity of the Soul, as not to suffer her to attend to other things, besides those represented by these Images.

Now there are two sorts of Persons who have a strong Imagination in this Sense explain'd. The one receive these deep Traces by a disorderly and involuntary Impression of the Animal Spirits;IV. Two kinds of it. and the other, which I design more particularly to treat of, receive them through the Disposition incident to the Substance of their Brain.

'Tis plain that the former are absolutely Fools, since they are oblig'd by the Natural Union between their Traces and Idea's, to think of things that others they converse with, do not think of; which incapacitates them from speaking pertinently to the thing in hand, and making a sutable Answer to the Questions that are ask'd them.

Of these there are infinite forts, that differ only in degree; amongst which may be reckon'd all such as are acted without any violent Passion, since in the time of their Perturbation, the Animal Spirits so forcibly imprint the Traces and Images of their Passion, that they are unable to think of any thing else.

But 'tis to be observ'd, that the Imagination of the weakest Minds, and the most soft and tender Brains that be, are not in danger of being corrupted by this sort of People, for two very good Reasons. The first is, that being unable to conform their Answers to the Idea's of others, they are as unable to perswade them to any thing; and the second is, that their Discourse is always heard with contempt, upon the account of so visible a Disorder in their Brain.

'Tis true however, that Men in a Passion infect the Spectators with the same; and strike their Imagination with Impressions like to those they feel themselves. But because the outrage is so visible, the Impressions it makes are resisted, and a little time will quite discard them. They wear off of themselves, when no longer fed and supply'd, by the Cause that produc'd them; that is, when the transported Person is out of sight, and the sensible View of the Features the Passion drew upon the Face, produces no more alterations in the Fibres of our Brain, nor Agitations in our Animal Spirits.

My Design is only to examine that sort of strong and vigo [...]ous Imagination, which consists in a Disposition of Brain fit and proper to receive very deep Impressions, from the weakest and least-active Objects.

'Tis no Imperfection to have a Brain dispos'd for the Imagining things strongly, and receiving most distinct and lively Images of the most incon [...]iderable Objects; provided the Soul still superintends the Imagination, and these Traces be imprinted by her Orders, and expung'd by her Commands: 'Tis, on the contrary, the Original of Subtilty and Strength of Wit. But when the Imagination lords it over the Soul, and these Traces, without staying for the Orders of the Will, are stamp'd by the Disposition of the Brain, by the Action of Objects and the Animal Spirits, 'tis manifestly a base and mischievous Quality, and a kind of Madness. Let us try to discover their Character, whose Imagination is wrought in this manner.

And in order to this, it ought to be re-minded, that the Capacity of the Mind is very narrow, and that there is nothing so cumbersom, as I may say, or so soon takes it up, as the Sensations of the Soul, and, in general, all the Perceptions of Objects that vehemently affect us; and that the deep Traces of the Brain are ever attended with Sensations or other Perceptions, which challenge a great Application of Mind. In remembring this, 'twill be easie to lay open the Minds of Men of strong Imagination, and to discover their real Characters.

The first whereof is their Incapacity to judge prudently of things any whit difficult and intricate; because the extent of their Minds,V. Two considerable Imperfections of Men of a Strong Imagination being fill'd with Idea's naturally annex'd to these deep Traces, they are not at liberty of thinking on many things at the same time: When as in Compound Questions, the Mind, by a quick and desultory Motion, must run over the Idea's of a great many things, and survey, at one View, all the Relations and Dependencies, that necessarily go to the Resolution of the Questions.

Every one is conscious from his own Experience, how impossible it is to contemplate any abstract Truth, when he is under the Sense of Pain, that is any thing violent; the reason whereof is, that the deep Traces then printed on the Brain, possess the Capacity of the Mind. Thus those we are speaking of, having, as his suppos'd, deeper Traces of the same Objects than others, must have a Mind of narrower Bounds, and incapable of embracing so many things. The first Defect therefore of these Men, is their having a little Mind, and so much the less, as their Brain receives deeper Traces from such Objects as are less considerable.

[Page]The second is their being Visionists, but in so subtile and delicate a way, as his hard to be discover'd: and which makes the common sort of Men not think them so: And 'tis only the accurate and clear-sighted Minds, that are apprehensive of their Visions, and the ramblings of their Fancy.

For the understanding the Original of this Defect, we must farther call to Mind what has been said at the beginning of the Second Book; that in regard of what happens in the Brain, the Senses and Imagination differ only in degree of more or less; and that 'tis the largeness and depth of the Traces that makes the Soul sensible of Objects; makes her judge them as present, and in capacity to affect her; and lastly, near enough to her, to make her feel Pleasure and Pain: For when the Traces are little, the Soul only imagines the Objects of them; she judges it not as present, nor looks upon it as very great and considerable: But in proportion as these Traces grow larger and deeper, the Soul judges the Object to be bigger and more considerable, that it approaches nearer to us, and, in conclusion, is capable of touching and hurting us.

The Visionists I speak of are not arriv'd to that high degree of Madness, as to believe they see before their Eyes the Objects that are absent: The Traces of their Brain are not so deep as that comes to: They are not so thorow-pac'd finish'd Madmen; for if they were, it would be in vain to talk of them here, since their Dilusions would be so visible, that no Man could be impos'd on by them, They are not Visionists of Sense therefore, but of Imagination only. Madmen and Phrenticks are Visionists of the former sort, for that they see not things as they are, and frequently see those that are not ▪ But our Visionists are of the latter sort, since they Imagine things quite otherwise than they are, and Imagine likewise those that are not. And yet 'tis evident that the Visionists of Sense, differ from the Visionists of the Imagination only Secundum plus & minus; and the passage is frequent from one Condition to the other. For which reason we should represent the distemper'd Mind of the latter, by comparing it with that of the former; as being of a more sensible Nature, and making greater Impression on the Soul, since in things that differ thus only in degree, those that are less Sensible ought to be express'd by Analogy to those that are more so.

The second Imperfection then, as has been seen, of Men of a Strong and Vigorous Imagination, is their being Visionists of Imagination, or simply Visionists: since the Visionists of Sense go by the Name of Madmen. I come now to shew the ill Qualities of these Visionary Wits.

They exceed all Bounds, and keep no Mean upon any occasion, hightning what is low and mean, and magnifying what is little, and bringing close what's remote; since nothing appears to them as it is. They admire or exclaim at every thing indifferently, without Judgment and Discretion. If their Natural Complection disposes them to Fear; I mean if their Animal Spirits be few in number, weak and unactive, they shall be frighted at the least thing in Nature, and tremble at the fall of a Leaf. Whereas if they abound with Blood and Spirits, the more common thing of the two, they shall feed upon empty hopes; and giving themselves up to their luxuriant Imaginations, build (as we say) Castles in the Air, with a mighty Joy and Satisfaction. They are vehement in their Passions, head-strong in Opinions, and ever well satisfy'd with themselves. But when once they are ambitious of being look'd upon as the Wits of the Age, and set up for Authors, (for there are Authors of all sorts, Visionists and others;) Good God! what Extravagancies, Whimsies, and Irregular Motions do we see! wherein Nature has nothing to do, where all is Affected, forc'd, and Bombastic. They never stir but they are upon the Prance, every Step must be in Time and Measure, and all proceeds in Figures and Hyperboles. If again the Humour takes them to be Religious, and their own Fancies be their Guide, they turn absolutely Jews and Pharisees; sticking usually to the Surface and Shadow; and being wholly taken up with the out-side Ceremonies, and little Practices of small or no importance. Hence they become Scrupulous, Timorous, and Superstitious; to whom every thing is Faith, every thing Essential, except that which is truly Faith and Essential. For the most material and weighty things of the Gospel, Justice, Mercy and Faith, are frequently neglected; whilst their Mind is entertain'd (with their Tithing Mint and Cummim) i. e. with the less important Duties of Religion: But here the Subject grows too plentiful, and there is no need of making farther Reflection than on what occurs in their ordinary Conversations, to be satisfy'd of these Failings, and to observe several others.

But Men of a strong and vigorous Imagination have still other Qualities, very necessary to be throughly explain'd, For hitherto we have treated only of their Defects, and we should do them Justice now in speaking of their Advantages; one whereof, among the rest, more especially belongs to our Subject; because it is upon the Strength of that they domineer over the Vulgar sort of Minds; they enter them into their Thoughts, and communicate all the false Impressions to them, which themselves are affected withal.

This Advantage consists in a Facility of Expressing themselves in a strong and lively, though unnatural,VI. That Men of a Strong Imagination easily perswade. manner. Such as Imagine things strongly, express them with much vehemence, and perswade all those that are convinc'd, more by the sensible Manner and Impression, than by the force of Argument: For the Brains of Men of Strong Imaginations receiving, as has been said, deep Impressions of the Subjects they imagine, these Impressions are naturally pursued by a great Commotion of the Spirits, which disposes their whole Body to set off their Thoughts in a ready and lively manner of Expression. The Air of the Face, the Tone of the Voice, the Elegancy of their Words animating their Expressions, prepare the Spectators and Hearers for Attention, and dispose them to a Machinal Reception of the Image imprinted by the Speakers. For, in fine, [Page] when a Man is affect [...]d with what he says, he generally affects others with it too; as a Man in a Passion never fails to be moving: Though his Rhetoric be Inartificial and Irregular, yet he is sure of gaining his point, because the Air and External Demeanour strike upon the Senses; and act in a livelier way on the Imagination, than the most powerful Discourses coldly pronounc'd: Forasmuch as these Discourses don't gratifie the Senses, nor affect the Imagination.

These Men then have the Advantage of Pleasing, Moving, and Perswading; because of their Imaging their Thoughts in a most lively and sensible manner: Though there be other Causes contributing to the Conquest they obtain over the Minds of others. For they most commonly Discourse upon obvious and easie Subjects, and suited to Vulgar Capacities. Then they only make use of such Terms and Expressions as raise the confus'd Notions of the Senses, which are ever very Strong and Pathetical; and when they treat of Lofty and Difficult Subjects, 'tis in a loose and common-place way, without venturing a Discussion of Particulars, and fixing to Principles; whether because they understand not these Points, or are fearful of being at a loss for Terms, or of perplexing or tiring the Minds of such as are not capable of much Attention.

And now we may readily judge from what has been said, that the Disorders of the Imagination are extreamly contagious, and that they insinuate and diffuse themselves into most Minds with a great deal of ease: But whereas those who are of a Strong Imagination, are generally Enemies to Reason, and irreconcilable to good Sense; because of the littleness of their Minds, and the Visions they are subject to; 'tis manifest to be seen there are few more general Causes of our Errors, than this contagious Communication of the Disorders and Distempers of the Imagination: But these Truths deserve to be farther Illustrated by the Examples, and known Experience of the World.

CHAP. II.

General Instances of the Strength of Imagination.

CHILDREN in respect of their Fathers, but especially Daughters in regard of their Mothers, afford us very frequent Instances of this Communication of the Imagination: The same things do Servants in relation to their Masters, Maids in respect of their Mistresses, Scholars of their Teachers, Courtiers of their Kings, and generally all Inferiours in respect of their Superiours; supposing only that Fathers, Masters, and the rest of the Superiours have any Strength of Imagination themselves. For otherwise 'tis possible for Children and Servants to remain untouch'd, or very little infected, with the languid Imagination of their Fathers and Masters.

The Effects of this Communication may be likewise observ'd in Equals; but that more rarely, for want of that submissive Respect among them, which qualifies and disposes the Mind for the Reception of the Impressions of strong Imaginations, without examining them: Last of all, they are to be seen in Superiours also, with respect to their Inferiours, who sometimes are impower'd with so Lively and Authoritative an Imagination, as to turn the Minds of their Masters and Superiours which way they please.

'Twill be easie to conceive how Fathers and Mothers make so very strong Impressions on the Imagination of their Children, if it be consider'd, that the Natural Dispositions of our Brain, whereby we are inclin'd to imitate those we live with, and to participate of their Sentiments and Passions, are stronger in Children with respect to their Parents, than in any others; whereof several Reasons may be given. The first is their being of the same Blood: For as Parents commonly transmit to their Children the Seeds and Dispositions for certain Hereditary Distempers; such as the Gout, Stone, Madness; and generally all those that were not of Accidental Acquirement, or whose sole and only Cause was not some extraordinary Fermentation of the Humours, as Fevers and some others; (for of such 'tis plain there can be no Communication) So they imprint the Dispositions of their own Brain on the Brain of their Children, and give a certain Turn to their Imagination, that makes them wholly susceptible of the same Sentiments.

The second Reason is the little Acquaintance and Converse Children generally have with other Men, who might sometimes stamp different Impresses on their Brain, and, in some measure, interrupt the bent and force of the Paternal Impression. For as a Man, that was never abroad, commonly Fancies that the Manners and Customs of Strangers are quite contrary to Reason, because contrary to the usage of his Native Town, or Custom of his Country, whilst he yields to be carry'd by the current; so a Child, who was never from his Father's Home, imagines his Parents Sentiments and Ways of Living to be Universal Reason, or rather thinks there are no other Principles of Reason or Vertue to be had, besides the Imitation of them. Which makes him believe, whatever he hears them say; and do, whatever he sees them do.

But this Parental Impression is so strong, as not only to influence the Child's Imagination, but to have its Effect on the other parts of the Body. So that a young Lad shall Walk and Talk, and have the same Gestures as his Father: And a Girl shall Mimick the Mother in her Gate, Discourse, and Dress: If the Mother Lisps, the Daughter must Lisp too; if the Mother has any [Page] odd fling with her Head, the Daughter takes the same: In short, Children imitate their Parents in every thing, even in their Bodily Defects, Grimace, and Faces, as well as their Errors, and Vices.

There are still many other Causes, which add to the Effect of this Impression. The chief of which are, the Authority of the Parents, the Dependence of Children, and the mutual Love between them: But these Causes are as common to Courtiers, Servants, and, in general, to all Inferiours, as to Children; I therefore choose to explain them by the Instance of the Court-Gentlemen.

There are those who judge by what's in sight, of that which is unapparent; of the Greatness, Strength, and Reach of Wit, and Parts, which they see not; by the Gallantry, Honours, and Riches which they know; and measure the one by the other: And that Dependency Men are in to the Great, the Desire of partaking of their Greatness, and that sensible Lustre that surrounds them, makes them ascribe Honours Divine, if I may so speak, to Mortal Men. For GOD bestows on Princes Authority, but Men attribute to them Infallibility: Such an Infallibility as has no Boundaries prescrib'd to it, on any subject, or any occasion, nor is confin'd to certain Ceremonies. For the Great know all things naturally; they are ever in the Right, even in the Decision of Questions which they do not understand: None attempt to examine their Positions, but those who want Experience and the Art of Living; and 'tis Presumption and want of Respect to doubt of them. But 'tis no less than Rebellion, at least down-right Folly, Sottishness, [...] Madness to condemn them.

But when we are Honour'd with a Place in the Favour and Esteem of Great Men, 'tis no longer, plain Obstinacy, Conceitedness, and Rebellion; 'tis a Crime of a deeper dye; Ingratitude, and Perfidiousness, not to surrender implicitly to their Opinions. 'Tis such an unpardonable Offence as utterly incapacitates us for any of their future Favours. Which is the Reason that Courtiers, and by a necessary consequence, the generality of the World, indeliberately subscribe to the Sentiments of their Sovereign, even so far as to Model their Faith by, and make the Truths of Religion subservient to his Fantastic Humour and Folly.

England and Germany furnish us but with too many Instances, of the blind and exorbitant Submission of the People to the Wills of their Irreligious Princes, wherewith the Histories of the late Times abound: And some Men of a considerable Age, have been known to have chang'd their Religion four or five times, by reason of the diverse changes of their Princes.

The Kings and even the Queens of England have the Government of all the States of their Kingdoms, whether Ecclesiastical or Civil in all Causes. Artic. 37. of the Religion of the Church of England. 'Tis they that are the Approvers of the Liturgies, of the Festival Services, of the way wherein the Sacraments ought to be Administred and Received. They appoint, for instance, that our LORD shall not be adored in the Eucharist, though they oblige to the Receiving it on the Knees, according to the Ancient Custom. In a word, they arbitrarily change the whole Substance of their Liturgies, to suit them to the New Articles of their Faith; and together with their Parliam [...]nt, have equal Right of judging of these Articles, as a Pope with a Councel; as may be seen in the Statutes of England and Ireland, made at the beginning of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. Lastly, we may add that the Kings of England have a greater Jurisdiction over the Spirituals, than the Temporals of their Subjects; because those wretched People, those Children of this World, are less concern'd for the Preservation of their faith, than the Security of their Fortunes; and readily embrace the Opinions of their Princes, when their Temporal Interest stands not in the way.

The Revolutions which have happen'd to Religion in Sweden and Denmark, may serve as a farther Evidence of the Power some Minds have over others; though indeed all those Revolutions were contributed to, by many other very considerable Causes. Which surprizing Changes are so many Proofs of the Contagious Communication of the Imagination, but Proofs too vast and mighty; and such as confound and dazle the Mind, rather than enlighten it; because there are too many Causes concurring to the Production of these great Events. When Courtiers, and all Men else, so commonly give up the Interest of Infallible Truths, Essential Truths; Truths that are necessary to be asserted, unless a Man resolve upon Everlasting Destruction: How can it be expected they should run any hazard in the Defence of Abstract Truths of as little Certainty, as they are of Use? If the Religion of the Prince makes the Religion of his Subjects; the Reason of the Prince will be the Reason of his Subjects too; and so the Sentiments of the Prince, his Pleasures, his Passions, his Sports, his Habit, and generally all his Actions will be A-la-mode: For the Prince himself being as the Original and Essential Mode, nothing that is derived from him will be out of Fashion: And since all the Irregularities of the Fashion become Graces and Beauties, 'tis no wonder that Princes act so forcibly on the Imagination of other Men.

If Alexander holds his Head awry, his Courtiers will have theirs in the same Posture: If Dionysius the Tyrant apply himself to Geometry upon Plato's Arrival in Syracuse, Geometry grows the Study of the Court; and the King's Palace, says Plutarch, is presently fill'd with dust, by the vast number of those that are drawing Figures in it. But as soon as Plato is disgusted with the Tyrant,Plutarch. Mor. How to distinguish the Flatterer from the Friend. and the Tyrant disliking his Study betakes himself afresh to his Pleasures: The Courtiers turn Voluptuaries to accompany him▪ ‘One would think, continues that Author, they were enchanted, and that some Circe had Metamorphos'd them into other Men.’ Their Affection for Philosophy grows into an Affection for Debauchery; and their Abhorrence of Debauchery, into the Abhorrence of Philosophy. And thus Princes can change Vices into Vertues, and Vertues [Page] into Vices; and one word of their Mouth is able to reverse all the Idea's of them. One Royal Word or Gesture, a Frown or a Lip, shall debase true Science and Learning, into Pedantry; entitle Rashness, Brutality, and Cruelty, to the repute of Valour and Greatness of Courage; and make Libertinism and Profaneness, pass for Force and Liberty of Thought.

But this, as all that I have been saying, supposes that Princes have a Strong and Lively Imagination; since if it were Weak and Languishing, they could not Animate their Discourse, nor give it that lively Turn and Vehemence, requisite to Master and Inslave the weaker Minds.

And now if the Imagination all alone, and unassisted with the supplies of Reason, can produce so surprizing Effects; there is nothing so Fantastical or Extravagant, but it will perswade, when back'd and supported with any apparent Reasons. Here are some proofs of it.

'Tis related by an Ancient Author, That in Ethiopia the Courtiers Crippl'd and Deform'd themselves, lop't off a Limb or two, and sometimes even died, to imitate their Princes.Diodor. Sicul. Bibl. Lib. 3. 'Twas as scandalous to be seen with a Pair of Eyes, or to walk upright in the Retinue of a Crooked and One-ey'd King; as it would be ridiculous to appear at Court now a-days in Ruffs and Caps, or in white Buskins and gilded Spurs. This Ethiopian Fashion was as Extravagant and incommodious, as can be imagin'd; but yet it was the Fashion: It was cheerfully follow'd by the Court, and the Pain to be indur'd was less thought on, than the Honour a Man purchas'd by manifesting so generous an Affection for his King: In short, this Mode, when supported by a pretended Reason of Friendship, grew up into a Custom and a Law, that obtain'd a considerable Time.

We learn from the Relations of those who have travell'd in the Levant, that this Custom is observ'd in several Countries; as also some others, as inconsistent with Reason and good Sense. But there is no necessity of twice cutting the Line, to see Unreasonable Laws and Customs religiously observ'd; we may find the Patrons of Fantastical and Inconvenient Fashions nearer Home: Our own Country will supply us with enow: Where-ever there are Men not insensible to Passions, and the Imagination has the supremacy over Reason; there will be fantastical Humours, and Humours unaccountable. If there be not so much Pain to be suffer'd in going with bare Breasts, in the most rigid Winter Season, and stoving up the Body in the excessive Heats of Summer, as in the plucking out an Eye, or cutting off an Arm; yet the Shame should certainly be greater. I confess the Pain is not so great, but neither is the Reason of undergoing it so apparent; and so the Extravagance comes at least to an even poize. For an Ethiopian might, in justifying himself, say he pluck'd out an Eye, out of a point of Loyalty and Honour: But what should a Christian Lady say for Exposing what Nature and Religion oblige her to conceal? Perhaps, that she did it, because 'twas the Fashion, and for no other Reason. But she ought to know, That 'tis an Extravagant, Inconvenient, Unseemly, and Shameful Fashion on all Accounts, and proceeds from nothing but a manifest Corruption of Reason, and a secret Depravation of Heart; and cannot be favour'd or follow'd without Scandal, and openly siding with the Corruption of the Imagination against Reason; with Impurity against Purity; with the Spirit of the World against the Spirit of GOD. In a word, to follow this Mode is to violate both the Laws of Reason, and of the Gospel: But what matters that, you'll say, it is the Mode; that is a Law more Sacred and Inviolable, than That written by the Finger of GOD upon the Tables of Moses, and those graven by his Spirit on the Hearts of Christians.

And indeed I cannot see that the English or French have much Reason to laugh at the Ethiopians and Savages: At the first time of seeing a Crippl'd or One-ey'd King, in the Front of a Train of Lame and Half-sighted Courtiers; I confess a Man would scarce forbear lauging: But time would make it familiar, and instead of ridiculing them for an Infirmity of Mind, he would more admire perhaps the Greatness of their Courage, and Perfection of their Friendship. But 'tis not so with the Fashions of our modern Ladies: Their Extravagancies have no pretended Reason to uphold them, if they have the Advantage of being less troublesome, they stand chargeable however with being more irrational. In short, they bear the Character of an Age still more corrupt in which nothing is found sufficient to qualifie the Disorders of Imagination.

What has been said of Courtiers, ought likewise to be understood of the most part of Servants in respect of their Masters, Maids in respect of their Mistresses, and not to make an impertinent Induction of particulars, of all Inferiors in respect of their Superiors: and especially of Children in respect of their Parents: Forasmuch as they have a very peculiar Dependance on them, are cherish'd and brought up tenderly by them, which is not done in the rest; and lastly, because Reason inclines Children to such Submission and Respect, as Reason it self cannot always regulate.

'Tis not absolutely necessary for the influencing the Imagination of others to have some Authority over them, and that they have some kind of Dependance on us; the sole strength of Imagination is sometimes sufficient to do it: 'Tis common for strangers, for Men of no Reputation, for such as we are not prepossess'd with any Esteem of, to have such force of Imagination, and consequently so lively and charming Expressions, as to perswade us without our knowing either for what end, or by what means we were perswaded; I confess it seems strange it should be so, but yet there is nothing commoner.

Now this imaginative Perswasion must proceed from the force of a Visionary Wit, who has a lively way of Talking, without knowing what he says; and who thus brings over the Minds of Hearers to give a strong assent, without knowing what 'tis they assent to. For the generality of Men give way to the force of the sensible Impression, and so dazles and confounds them, and [Page] makes them passionately judge of what they confusedly conceiv'd. We desire such as shall read this Work, to consider this thing, to observe the Instances of it in the Companies they light upon; and to make Reflection on what happens in their own Breast on such occasions; which will be a thing of greater use to them than they can imagine.

But it should be well consider'd, that there are two things, which wonderfully contribute to the Power of other's Imagination over us: The first is, a grave and pious Deportment; the second, a Presumptuous and Libertine Behaviour. For accordingly as we are dispos'd to Piety or Libertinism, we shall find an Air of Gravity and Piety in Discourse, or a Presumptuous and Libertine strain shall act very differently upon us.

'Tis true, the one is of more dangerous contagion than the other; but yet we should equally resist the sensible Manners of either side; and only submit to the force of the Reasons they are attended with; for ridiculous Nonsence and Impertinence may be spoke in a grave and sober way; and Blasphemy and Profaneness, with an Air of Devotion. Wherefore we should, following the Advice of St. John, examine Whether the Spirits be of GOD, and not trust all sorts of Spirits. We know the Devils sometimes transform themselves into Angels of Light; and there are Men who have, as it were, naturally the Mein of Piety, and Look of Religion, and consequently a well-establish'd Reputation in the World; who yet exempt Men from their Essential Obligations, even from the loving GOD and their Neighbour; to enslave them to some foolish Practices, or Pharisaick Ceremony.

But the Strong Imaginations, whose Impression and Contagion should more industriously be avoided, are of Men abroad in the World, who affect the being reputed the Bold Wits; which is a Reputation easily acquir'd. For 'tis but denying, with a particular Grace, Original Sin, the Immortality of the Soul, or ridiculing some receiv'd Opinion of the Church, to set up for such an accomplish'd Wit among the Vulgar.

These little Minds are generally full of Life and Fire, of a forward and haughty Carriage, which sways and disposes Weak Imaginations, to yield to the vivid and plausible Discourse, which to any thinking Man will appear to have nothing in it. For as happy as they are at Expressing, they have but very ill luck at Reasoning. And yet whilst Men, though never so Rational, had rather be mov'd and affected with sensible Pleasure, that attends the way of Delivery, and the specious Expressions, than to enter into an irksome Disquisition of the Reasons; 'tis visible these Minds must have the ascendant over others, and so propagate their Contagion and their Errors, by the Authority they have over the Imagination of other Men.

CHAP. III.

I. Of the Force of some Authors Imagination. II. Of Tertullian.

ONE of the greatest and most notorious Proofs of the Power some Imaginations have over others, is the Prevalency some Authors have of perswading without Reasons. For instance, The Turn, Tertullian, Seneca, Montagne, and some others give their Discourse, has those Charms and Lustre, which dazle the Minds of most Men; though it be only a faint Draught of Fancy, and, as it were, the Shadows of those Authors Imagination. Their Words, as dead and inanimate as they are, have greater Vigour than the Reasons of others: They enter, they penetrate, they domineer in the Soul at so imperious a rate, as to challenge Obedience without being understood, and make their Orders submitted to, before they are known. A Man has a Mind to believe, but he knows not what. When he would know what 'tis he would believe, and approaches, as I may say, those fleeting Phantoms, to take a View of them, they dissipate into smoak with all their gaudy Drapery and Lustre.

But though these Authors I have nam'd, are the most proper Instances that can be given, to shew the Power of some Men's Imaginations over others, and I propose them for that purpose; yet I pretend not to condemn them in every thing. For I cannot forbear having an Esteem for those particular Beauties that are in them, and a Deference to that universal Approbation they have had for many Ages; I must declare I have a great Veneration for some of Tertullian's Works, and especially for his Apology against the Gentiles, and his Book of Prescriptions against Hereticks; and for some parts of the Books of Seneca, though I have very little Esteem for any thing of Montagne. See the Illustrations.

Tertullian was indeed a Man of profound Learning, but of a better Memory than Judgment; and had a greater Penetration and Extent of Imagination, than of Intellect. There is no doubt but he was a Visionist, in the Sense I have before explain'd; and was fraught with most of the Qualities I have attributed to the Visionary Wits: And the Veneration he had for Montanus's Visions and his Prophetesses, are an undoubted Demonstration of the Weakness of his Judgment: His fervent Zeal, and Transports, and Enthusiasms upon trifling Subjects, are a sensible Indication of a distemper'd Imagination. What irregular Motions are there in his Hyperboles and Figures? How many pompous and magnificent Arguments that owe all their force to their sensible Lustre, and perswade meerly by giddying▪ and dazling the Mind?

[Page]To what purpose, for instance, does that Author, in justifying his wearing the Philosophers Gown instead of the usual one, alledge this Habit was formerly the Fashion in the City Carthage? Should we at present wear Ruffs and Caps, because they were in use in the days of our Fore-fathers? Or would it look well for Women to put on old-fashion'd H [...]ods and Fardingales, except it be in the Carnival, when they would disguise themselves to go a Masquerading?

What could be concluded from those pompous and magnificent Descriptions of the Changes the World undergoes, and what could they contribute to his Apology? The Moon has different Phases, the Year changes its Seasons, and the Fields have another Countenance in Summer than in Winter. Inundations lay whole Provinces under Water; and Earthquakes swallow them up: New Cities are built, and new Colonies planted; and People in swarms have over-run and depopulated entire Countries: And therefore the common Toga should be chang'd for the Philosophic Pallium. What Affinity is there between the thing to be prov'd, and all these Changes, and several others he's at great Pains to find out, and which he describes in unnatural, obscure, and bombastic Expressions? The Peacock varies every step he makes; and the Serpent gliding into a narrow hole, slips out of its Skin, and grows young again; why then should not we change our Habit? Could any Man in his Wits, and in cold Blood, make such Inferences as these?Chap. 2. & 3. De Pallio. Could any that should hear him, hold from laughing? Did not this Author make giddy the Head, and confound the Intellect of his Reader?

Almost all the remainder of that little Book De Pallio, Multos etiam vidi postquam bene aestuassent, ut eum assequerentur, nihil praeter sudorem & inanem animi fatigationem lucratos, ab ejus lectione discessisse. Sic qui Scotinus haberi videri (que) dignus, qui hoc cognomentum habere voluit, adeo quod voluit a seipso impetravit, & efficere id quod obtabat valuit, ut liquido jurare ausim neminem ad hoc tempus extitisse, qui possit jurare hunc libellum a capite ad calcem us (que) totum, a se non minus bene intellectum quam lectum. Salm. in Epist. ded. Comment. in Tert. is fill'd with Reasons as foreign to his Subject as these; which certainly prove nothing, but only amuse such as are liable to be amus'd: But 'tis needless to insist longer on this Topick: It may suffice to say, That if Accuracy of Thought, and Clearness and Distinctness of Discourse, should always appear in whatever a Man writes (since the end of Writing is to manifest the Truth) 'tis impossible to excuse this Author, who, by the Testimony of Salmasius, the best of our Modern Criticks, has laid out all his Endeavours to become obscure; and has so well succeeded in that Design, that this Commentator scarce forbore Swearing that no Man ever perfectly understood him. But supposing the Genius of the Nation, the Humour of the Mode that then prevai [...]d, and lastly, the Nature of Satyre or Raillery, might in some measure justifie this notable Design of being Mysterious and Incomprehensible: yet all this could never atone for the pitiful Reasons and the Ramblings of an Author, who in many of his Works, as well as this, speaks whatever comes in's Head; provided it be in some unordinary Thought, which he can set off in some bold Expression, with hopes of making Ostentation of the force, or I might say, the corruption of his Imagination.

CHAP. IV.

Of the Imagination of Seneca.

THE Imagination of Seneca is sometimes as irregular as Tertullian's: His impetuous Motions carrying him into unknown Regions; where yet he walks with as great confidence and security, as if he knew where he was, and whither he was tending. Whenever he makes large steps, steps in Figures, and exactly measur'd; he fancies he is far advanc'd; whereas he imitates the Dancers, that always end where they begin.

We ought to distinguish the Force and Beauty of Words, from the Force and Evidence of Reasons. There is doubtless much Force, and some Beauty in the Words of Seneca; but very little Strength and Evidence in his Reasons: By the Force of Imagination, he gives such a Turn to his Words, as moves, agitates, and perswades by the Impression they make on us; but he fails to give that Distinctness and pure Light, which illuminates and perswades by Evidence. His Conviction depends on the Commotion he raises, and the Pleasure he suggests; but such as can read him sedately and undisturb'd, that can take heed of Surprize, and are us'd to no other Conviction than that of Clearness and Evidence of Reason, will not, I dare say, be convinc'd by his Discourse. For, in short, so he talks handsomly, he is but little solicitous about what he says; as if it were possible a Man should speak well, without knowing what he speaks. And thus he commonly perswades, without knowing how or why we are perswaded; as if it were reasonable to be convinc'd of any thing without a distinct Knowledge of it, and Examination of the Proofs that demonstrate it.

What can be more stately than the Idea he give us of his Wise-man; and yet what at the bottom is more vain and fantastical? The Portraicture he draws of Plato is too fine to be Natural; but 'tis such Paint and Varnish, he puts upon none but the unthinking sort of Men, and those that are unacquainted with Nature. Cato was a Man, and subject to the Misery of Men: 'Twas only a Fancy that he was invulnerable, or that when he was struck, he was not hurt: He had neither the hardness of Adamant to be impenetrable to Iron, nor the stability of Rocks to be unshaken by the Floods, as Seneca pretends▪ In a word, he was not insensible; as Seneca himself is oblig'd to acknowledge, [Page] when his Imagination is a little cool'd, and he reflects a little better on what he says. Itaque non refert quam multa in illum tela conjiciantur▪ cum sit nulli penetrabilis; quomodo quorundam lapidum inexpugnabilis ferro duritia est: nec secari adamas, aut caedi vel teri potest, sed incurrentia ultrò retundit: quemadmodum projecti in altum scopuli mare frangunt, nec ipsi ulla saevitiae vestigia tot verberati saeculis ostentant: Ita sapientis animus solidus est, & id roboris collegit, ut tam tutus sit ab injuriâ, quam illa quae extuli. Sen. c. 5. Tract. Quod in sapientem non cadit injuria.

But what? will he not grant that his Wise-man may become miserable, when he acknowledges he is not insensible to Pain? No by no means; Pain can never affect him, nor the fear of it disquiet him: For his Wise-man is Paramount to Fortune, and above the Malice of Men: and they are incapable of giving him any Disturbance.

Adsum hoc vobis probaturus, sub isto tot civitatum eversore munimenta [...]incursu arietis labefieri, & turrium altitudinem cuniculis ac latentibus fossis repentè residere, & aequaturum editissimas arces aggerem crescere. At nulla machinamenta posse reperiri, quae bene fundatum animum agitent. And lower: Non Babylonis muros illi contuleris, quos Alexander intravit; non Carthaginis, aut Numantiae moenia una manu capta: non Capitolium arcemve, habent ista hostile vestigium. Cap. 6.

Quid tu putas cùm stolidus ille Rex multitudine telorum diem obscurasset, ullam sagittam in Solem incidisse: ut coelestia humanas manus effugiunt, & ab his qui templa diruunt, aut simulachra conflant, nihil divinitati nocetur; ita quicquid fit in sapientem, protervê, petulanter, superbè frustrà tentatur. Cap. 4. Inter fragorem templorum super Deos suos cadentium uni homini pax fuit. Cap. 5.

Non est ut dicas ita ut soles, hunc sapientem nostrum nusquam inveniri. Non fingimus istud humani ingenii vanum decus, nec ingentem imaginem rei falsae concipimus: sed quaelem confirmamus, & exhibuimus & exhibebimus. Ceterùm hic ipse M. Cato vereor ne suprà nostrum exemplar sit. Cap. 7.

Videor mihi intueri animum tuum incensum, & effervescentem: paras acclamare. Haec sunt quae auctoritatem praeceptis vestris detrahant. Magna promittitis, & quae ne optari quidem nedum credi possunt. And lower: Ita sublato altè supercilio in eadem, quae caeteri, descenditis mutatis rerum nominibus; tale itaque aliquid, & in hoc esse suspicor, quod prima specie pulchrum atque magnificum est, nec injuriam, nec contumeliam accepturum esse sapientem. And lower: Ego vero sapientem non imaginario honore verborum exornare constitui, sed eo loco ponere, quo nulla perveniat injuria.

Battering Rams, and other Engines of Wars, will shake the Walls and Towers of the strongest Garrisons, and in time level them with the Earth: But what Machines are found sufficient to shake the impregnable Mind of his Wise-man? Compare not with him the Wall of Babylon forc'd by Alexander; nor those of Carthage and Numantia, that one General overturn'd: Nor lastly, the Capitol, and the Citadel, which carry the marks of the prevailing Enemy. Arrows shot against the Sun are spent in vain; Sacriledges committed in the overthrow of Temples, and the Shrines of the Gods melted down, touch not the Divinity; yet the Gods may be overwhelm'd in the ruines of their own Temples: But his Wise-man shall never be oppress'd; or rather, he may be oppress'd, but 'tis impossible he should be hurt.

But think not (says Seneca) that the Wise-man I am picturing, is no where to be found. 'Tis no vain Fiction of ours▪ ridiculously to exalt the Mind of Man: 'Tis not a Stalking Idea, without Realty and Truth; no, the Original Cato transcends perhaps the Picture that I make of him.

But methinks, continues he, I perceive your Mind begins to kindle, and grow hot; and you are ready to cry out, That 'tis the way to make our selves contemptible, to promise things above the reach of Faith or Hope; and that the Stoicks only change the Names of things, to speak the same Truths in a more lofty and supercilious strain. But see how you are mistaken: For 'tis not our Design to dignifie the Wise-man with the imaginary Honour of great and pompous Words; but to set him in a place inaccessible to Injuries and Affronts.

See here now Seneca's weak Reason is hurried away with an impetuous Imagination. But is it possible for Men, under a continual sense of their Miseries and Infirmities, to fall into such presumptuous and arrogant Notions? Can a reasonable Man be perswaded that Pain cannot touch or hurt him? Or could this All-wise, this Self-sufficient Cato suffer without Disquiet, at least some Molestation, I don't say the heinous Insults and Abuses of an enraged Rabble, Dragging, Stripping, Beating him; but the Stinging of a silly Fly? What can be imagin'd more weak against so strong and convincing Proofs of our own Experience, as this pretty Arguing of Seneca, which yet is one of his best Arguments?

Validius debet esse quod laedit, eo quod laeditur: non est autem fortior nequitia virtute: non potest ergo laedi Sapiens. Injuria in bonos non tentatur nisi à malis, bonis inter se pax est. Quod si laedi nisi infirmior non potest, malus autem bono infirmior est, nec injuria bonis nisi à dispari verenda est, injuria in Sapientem virum non cadit. Cap. 7.

That which hurts, says he, must be stronger than that which is hurt: But Vice is not stronger than Vertue; therefore the Wise-man cannot be hurt. To this we need only answer, Either that all Men are Sinners, and consequently worthy of the Misery they suffer, as Religion assures us; or that if Vice be not stronger than Vertue, yet the Vicious may sometimes be more prevalent than the Vertuous, as Experience manifests.

Epicurus ait, Injurias tolerabiles esse Sapienti, nos injurias non esse Epicurus was in the right, in saying that Injuries were supportable by a Wise-man; but Seneca certainly in the wrong, to affirm, The Wise-man could not be injur'd. The Vertue of the Stoicks could never render them impregnable; since 'tis not inconsistent with true Vertue for a Man to be Miserable, and pitiable at the time of his suffering some Evil: St. Paul and the Primitive Christians, had doubtless more Vertue than Cato and all the Stoicks; and yet they confess'd they were [Page] Miserable through the Pains they endur'd; though they were Happy through the Prospect of an Eternal Retribution. Si tantum in hâc vitâ sperantes sumus, miserabiliores sumus omnibus hominibus, says St. Paul.

As 'tis GOD alone, who through his Grace can give us a real, and a solid Vertue, so 'tis from Him only we can receive the Fruition of a solid and real Happiness; which yet he neither promises, nor gives us in this Life; but in the other it must be expected from his Justice, as the Recompense of the Miseries we have undergone for the Love of him in this: We are not as yet in possession of that Peace and Repose, which nothing can disturb; even the Grace of our LORD makes us not so Invincible, but it commonly leaves us to the Sense and Feeling of our own Imbecility, both to certifie us there is nothing in the World but is capable of hurting us; and to teach us to suffer, with a modest Patience and an humble Resignation, all the Injuries we receive; and not with a fastuous and haughty Patience, like the Constancy of Proud Presumptuous Cato.

When Cato was struck on the Face, he was not troubl'd at it; nor would he revenge or pardon the Affront, but Dogmatically deny'd that he had receiv'd any. He would be thought infinitely above those that struck him: So that his Patience was Pride and Arrogance, and affronting and abusing those that injur'd him: This Patience of his being a manifest sign, that he look'd upon his Enemies as Beasts, with whom 'twas below him to be angry. And this Contempt of his Enemies, and great Esteem of himself, is what Seneca calls the greatness of Courage; Majori animo, says he, (speaking of an Abuse Cato had receiv'd,) non agnovit, quam ignovisset. How extravagant it is to confound Magnanimity with Pride, and separating Patience from Humility, to joyn it with an unsufferable Arrogance. And yet how feelingly does such Extravagance flatter the Vanity of Man, who is never willing to stoop and abase himself? And how dangerous is it, for Christians especially, to be instructed out of the Morality of an Author of so little Judgment as Seneca, and yet of so strong, so lively, and so impetuous an Imagination, as dazles, and giddies, and drags along the Readers, that have but little Strength of Mind, but great Propension to whatever indulges Concupiscence, and their Senses?

Let Christians rather learn from their Master, that they are liable to the Insults and Injuries of evil Men; and that the Good are sometimes subjected to the Wicked, by the order of Providence. When one of the Officers of the High-Priest gave our LORD a box on the Ear; that Wise-man of the Christians, he who was infinitely Wise, and whose Power was as great as his Wisdom, confesses that Servant was capable of hurting him: He is not vex'd at the Affront, nor does he take Cato's way of Revenge; but pardons, as one that was truly offended. He was able to revenge Himself, and destroy His Enemies; but he rather suffers with a modest and an humble Patience, offensive to none, not even to that Servant that had injur'd Him. Whereas Cato either could not, or durst not take a real Revenge of the Affront he had receiv'd, and therefore attempts an imaginary one, which struck in with his Vanity and his Pride. For he swells and exalts his Mind as high as the Clouds; from whence he looks down upon Men below as little Flies; and despises them as insignificant Insects, incapable of offending him, and unworthy of his Indignation. This Vision, is a Notion worthy of the Wise Cato: 'Tis this which gives him a greatness of Soul, and a constancy of Courage, that equals him with the Gods. 'Tis this which makes him Invulnerable, as setting him above the Power and Malice of other Men. Alas, poor Cato! Sapientia hujus mundi stultitia est apud Deum. Quod hominibus altum est, abominatio est ante Deum. Luc. 16. Thou fanciest thy Vertue raises thee above all things; whereas thy Wisdom is Folly, and thy Magnanimity abominable before GOD; whatever the Wise-men of the World may think of it.

There are Visionists of several kinds. Some fancy themselves transform'd into Cocks and Hens; others think they become Kings and Emperors; and some again perswade themselves they are independent, and like the Gods. And yet whilst Men look upon those as Madmen, who are confident of being chang'd into Cocks and Kings, they do not always think those so, who say their Vertue renders them independent, and equal to the Gods. The Reason whereof is, That to be reckon'd a Madman, 'tis not enough to have Mad Thoughts; but 'tis moreover requisite that these Thoughts be taken for Visions and Madnesses by other Men. For Madmen never go for what they are, among Madmen that are like them, but only among Rational Men; as Wise-men never pass for what they are, in the Company of Madmen. Wherefore such are acknowledg'd for Madmen, who take themselves for Cocks or Kings; because no Man sees any reason to believe another can be so easily chang'd into a Cock or a King: But 'tis not now-a-days that Men first begin to think they can become as Gods: It has been the belief of all Ages, and perhaps more of former than the latter; so probable has their Vanity always made that Opinion. They derive it from their first Parents, for I make no doubt but Adam and Eve were of the same Sentiment, when they submitted to the Temptations of the Devil, upon the promise he made them that they should become like GOD: Eritis sicut Dii. Even the Purest and most Illuminate Intelligencies were so blinded by their Native Pride, as to believe they might grow Independent; and thereupon form'd a Design of usurping the Throne of the ALMIGHTY. Thus we need not wonder that Men, who have neither the Purity nor the Illumination of Angels, should give themselves up to be blinded and seduc'd, by the motives of their Vanity.

If the Temptation of Greatness and Independency be the strongest of all others, 'tis so upon its appearing to us, as it did to our first Parents, conformable to Reason, as well as to our Inclination; because we are not at all times sensible of our whole Dependence. Had the Serpent threatned our first Parents, saying, Unless you eat of the Fruit, which GOD has forbidden ye, ye shall be transform'd, one into a Cock, and the other into an Hen, we make no doubt to affirm, [Page] they had laugh'd at the grossness of the Temptation; for even we should have laugh'd at it our selves. But the Devil, judging of others by himself, knew well that the desire of Independency, was the Weak-side where they were the most easily taken.

The second Reason why we look upon those as Distemper'd in their Brain, who affirm they are either Cocks or Kings, but have no such Thoughts of those who assure us that nothing can hurt them, because they are above Pain, is that the Hypocondriacks are palpably deceiv'd; and 'tis but opening the Eyes to have sensible Proofs of their Delusion. But when Cato affirms that he is not hurt by him that strikes him, and that he is above all the Injuries that can be done to him; he affirms it, or may affirm it with that Haughtiness and Gravity, as makes it impossible to be discovered, whether he is not actually within what he appears to be without. And we are inclin'd to believe his Soul is unshaken, because his Body remains unmovable: For that the outward Deportment of our Body is a Natural Indication of what happens inwardly to the Soul. Thus a bold Lyar, when he lyes with a strong assurance, makes the most incredible things believ'd; the Confidence wherewith he delivers them, is a Proof that affects the Senses, and consequently is a very powerful Motive to Perswasion with the greatest part of Men. There are then but few that look upon the Stoicks as Visionists, or as hardy Lyers; because they can have no sensible Proof of what passes at the bottom of their Soul; and the Air of their Face is a very sensible Argument, which easily abuses them; besides that, their Vanity inclines them to believe that Man's Mind is capable of that Greatness and Independence, which he boasts of.

All which makes it evident, that there are few more dangerous Errors, or more easie communicated, than those the Books of Seneca abound with; because they are Errors of a subtil and delicate Nature, proportion'd to the Vanity of Man, and like that wherein the Devil engag'd our first Parents. They are attir'd in these Books with most sumptuous and splendid Habiliments, which make way for their Reception in most Minds. Wherein entring, they seize, stun, and and blind them; but blind them with a Fastuous Blindness, a Dazling Blindness; a Blindness attended with glimmerings of Light; and not an Humbling and Caliginous Blindness, that makes a Man sensible he is blind, and acknowledge it to others. The being struck with this Blindness of Pride makes us reckon our selves the Fine and the Bold Wits; and others also think us so, and admire us.Beaux Esprits, & Esprits Forts. So nothing is more contagious than this Blindness; whilst the Vanity and Sensibility of Men, the Corruption of the Senses and the Passions dispose them to the desire of being struck with it, and provokes them to strike others with it also.

I am then of Opinion that there is no Author more fit than Seneca, to exemplifie that contagious Communication of a great many Men, who go by the Name of the Fine and Bold Wits; and to shew how these strong and vigorous Imaginations domineer over the Weak and Unenlightened Minds; not by the force and evidence of their Reasons, which are the Productions of the Mind; but by the Turn, and lively way of Expression, which depend on the Strength of Imagination.

I know well enough that this Author's Reputation is considerable in the World, and 'will be look'd upon as a rash attempt to have treated him as a very Imaginative, and Injudicious Author: But 'twas chiefly upon the Account of his Esteem I have said so much of him here; not out of any Envy or ill Humour, but because the Estimation he is in, will more sensibly touch the Mind of the Reader, and more closely apply it to the Consideration of the Errors I have attack'd. For we should, as far as possible, bring the most Eminent Instances, when the things we say are important, it being sometimes an Honouring a Book, to Critizice upon it. But yet I am not the only Man that finds fault with the Writings of Seneca, for not to mention some Famous Men of our own Age, 'tis near six hundred Years ago, that a most Judicious Author observ'd,1. In Philosophia parum diligens. 2. Velles eum suo ingenio dixisse alieno judicio. 3. Si aliqua contempsisset, &c. Consensu Eruditorum quam Puerorum amore comprobaretur. Quintil. lib 10. cap. 2. there was little Exactness in his Philosophy, little Judgment and Justice in his Elocution; and his Reputation was rather the result of the Heat, and indiscreet Inclination of Youth, than the Consent of Learned and Judicious Men.

Publickly to engage the grossest and most palpable Errors, is labour lost, there being no contagion in them. 'Twould be ridiculous to advertise Men, that Hypocondriack People are deceiv'd; 'tis visible to all the World. But if those very Men, they have the greatest Opinion of, should chance to be mistaken, 'tis a piece of service to admonish them, lest they should imitate them in their Errors. Now 'tis plain that the Spirit of Seneca is a Spirit of Pride and Vanity: And whereas Pride, according to the Scripture, is the Origine of Sin; Initium Peccati Superbia: The Spirit of Seneca cannot be the Spirit of the Gospel; nor his Morals be allied to the Morals of our SAVIOVR, the only true and solid Morals.

True 'tis, that all the Notions of Seneca are not false nor dangerous. And he may be read with profit by such as have an exactness of Thought, and are acquainted with the Foundation of Christian Morality. Good use has been made of him by Great Men, and I have no intent of blaming those, who to accommodate themselves to the Weakness of others, that had an excessive Esteem for him, have drawn Arguments from his Works whereby to defend the Morality of our LORD, and oppugn the Enemies of the Gospel with their own Weapons.

The Alcoran has many good things in it, and some true Prophecies are to be found in the Centuries of Nostradamus. The Alcoran is made use of, to oppose the Religion of Mahomet; and Nostradamus's Prophecies may be of use to convince some Fantastick and Visionary People. But what is good in the Alcoran can't make it a good Book, nor can some true Explications in Nostradamus's Centuries make him ever pass for a Prophet; neither can it be said, that all who make use of these Authors, approve them, or have for them any real Esteem.

[Page]A Man ought not to go about to overthrow what I have said about Seneca,, by alledging abundance of Quotations out of him, which contain in them nothing but solid Truths, and consonant to the Gospel: For I grant many such are met with in that Author; and so there are in the Alcoran, and other mischievous Books. Nor would he be less to blame, who should overwhelm me with the Authority of those great Numbers, who have made use of Seneca, since use may be made of what we think an impertinent Book, provided those we speak to, judge otherwise of it than our selves.

But to ruine intirely the Wisdom of the Stoicks, we need only know one thing, which is sufficiently prov'd by Experience, and by what we have already said; which is, that we are link'd and fasten'd to our Body, our Relations, our Friends, our Prince, and our Country, by such ties as we neither can break, nor could for shame endeavour it. Our Soul is united to our Body, and by our Body to all things Visible, by so potent an Hand, that 'tis impossible by our own force, to loosen the Connection▪ 'Tis impossible our Body should be prick'd, but we must be prick'd and hurt our selves; because the state of Life we are in, most necessarily requires this Correspondence between us, and the Body which we have. In like manner 'tis impossible to hear our selves reproach'd and despis'd, but we must feel some discontent thereupon; because GOD, having made us for sociable converse with other Men, has given us an Inclination for every thing, capable to bind and cement us together; which Inclination, we have not strength enough of our selves to overcome. 'Tis Extravagance to say that Pain does not hurt us; and that words of Contumely and Contempt are not at all offensive to us, as being above such things as these: There is no getting above Nature, without being assisted by Grace; nor was there ever any Stoick who despis'd Glory and the Esteem of Men, through the meer Strength of his Mind.

Men may indeed get the mastery of their Passions, by contrary Passions: They may vanquish their Fear or their Pain by Vain Glory; I mean only that they may abstain from Flying or Complaining, when seeing themselves in the midst of a multitude, the desire of Glory supports them and stops those motions in their Bodies which put them upon Flight: In this manner they may conquer them; but this is no Conquest or Deliverance from their slavery; 'tis possibly to change their Master for some time, or rather to put on a longer and an heavier chain: 'Tis to grow wise, happy, and free only in appearance, but in reality to suffer an hard and cruel bondage. The natural union a Man has still with his Body, may be resisted by that union he has with Men; because Nature may be resisted by the strength of Nature. GOD may be resisted by the forces He himself supplies us with; but GOD cannot be resisted by the strength of a Man's own mind; Nature can't be perfectly vanquish'd but by Grace: because GOD cannot, if I may be allow'd so to speak, be overcome but by the special auxiliaries of GOD himself.

And thus that so much celebrated and vaunted Division of all things, in such as depend not on us, and such as we ought not to depend on, is a Division that seems agreeable to Reason, but is not consistent with this disorder'd state Sin has reduc'd us to. We are united to all the Creatures by the Order of GOD; but we absolutely depend on them by the Disorders of Sin: So that being incapable of Happiness, when in Pain or Disturbance, we ought not to hope for Happiness in this Life, by imagining we have no Dependence upon those things to which we are naturally slaves. There is no possibility of being happy, except by a lively Faith, and a solid Hope (which gives us a fore-tast of the Enjoyment of future Goods) nor of living up to the Rules of Vertue, and overcoming Nature; unless supported by the Grace merited for us by Our LORD and SAVIOVR JESVS CHRIST.

CHAP. V.

Of Montagne's Book.

MONTAGNE's Essays may serve as another instance, to prove the Influence some Imaginations have over others. For that Author has such a sort of a Fine and Debonaire way, and gives such a Lively and Natural Turn to his Thought, as 'tis almost impossible to read him, without being prejudic'd in his behalf; that his affected Negligence admirably becomes him, and indears him to most Men, without making him contemptible; and his Arrogancy is that of a Gentleman, if we may say so, that makes him respected, and not disliked. That Air of Gentility and Gallantry, sustain'd by some stock of Learning, works so prodigiously on the Mind, that a Man often admires him, and still yields to his Decisions, without daring to enquire into them, and sometimes without understanding them. 'Tis not by the strength of his Reasons he perswades; for Reasons are seldom alledg'd for what he advances, at least such as have any force and solidity in them. And indeed he neither has any Principles whereon to bottom his Reasonings, nor any Method to make Deductions from his Principles. A Touch of History is no Argument; nor a little Story a Demonstration: A couple of Verses of Horace, or an Apophthegm of Cleomenes or Caesar, are not fit to perswade Reasonable Men: And yet these Essays are nothing but a Contexture of scraps of History, little Relations, good Words, Distichs and Apophthegms.

[Page] Montagne should not be look'd upon in his Essays as a Man that argues, but as one that writes for his Diversion; whose drift is the Pleasure, and not the Instruction of his Reader: And if those that read him were only diverted by him, it must be own'd that Montagne could not do them so much harm. But 'tis next to impossible to forbear loving that which pleases, and not to desire those Dishes that are agreeable to the Palate. Nor can the Mind long be pleas'd with the reading of an Author, but it will take in its Sentiments, or at least receive some Tincture from them, which mingling with its Idea's, makes them confus'd and obscure.

But 'tis not only dangerous to read Montagne for Diversion; by reason that the Pleasure a Man takes in him, insensibly engages him in his Opinions; but also, because his Pleasure is more criminal than is imagin'd. For 'tis certain that this Pleasure arises chiefly from Concupiscence, and that it only feeds and strengthens the Passions; this Author's way of Writing being only so taking, because 'tis sensible and moving, and that it rouses our Passions in an imperceptible manner.

It would not be time mispent to prove this in particular; and, in general, that we are pleas'd with all the divers Styles of Men, meerly on the account of the secret Corruption of our Morals; but this is not the proper place for it; and besides it would carry us too far from our purpose. However, if we but reflect on the Connection of our Idea's and Passions I formerly spoke of; as also upon what passes within our selves at the time of our Reading some well wrote piece, we may in some measure discover, that if we love the Sublime Style, the noble and free Air of some Authors, 'tis because of our Vanity, and our Passion for Greatness and Independency. And that the relish we find in that delicacy of Effeminate Discourses, is deriv'd from no other Fountain, than a secret Inclination for Softness and Pleasure. In a word, 'tis Sensibility and not Reason, a certain Skill and Faculty for what affects the Senses, and not for Truth, that makes some Authors charm and ravish us, even whether we will or no. But to return to Montagne.

The Reasons why his greatest Admirers so much cry him up, to me seems to be, that they thought him a Judicious Author, and far from the imputation of Pedantry; as also one who was throughly acquainted with the nature and weaknesses of the Mind. If I should shew then that Montagne with all his Gallantry, was as much a Pedant as many others; and that he had a very imperfect Knowledge of the Mind: I shall make it appear, that those who most admire him, were not perswaded by the Evidence of his Reasons, but were only brought over by the Force of his Imagination.

The word Pedant is very Equivocal; but Use, if I mistake not, and even Reason, will have it signifie those, who to make ostentation of their false Science, quote all sorts of Authors, right or wrong; talk meerly for talking sake, and to be admir'd by the Ignorant; and without any Judgment or Discretion, amass together Apophthegms and Passages of History, to prove, or at least pretend to prove things, that cannot be made out by any thing but Reason.

Pedant is oppos'd to Rational; and that which makes Pedants so odious to Men of Sense, is their being Irrational; for sensible Men, naturally loving to Reason, can't endure the Conversation of those who reason not at all. Pedants are unable to reason, because their Mind is little, or else is taken up with False Learning; and they are unwilling to reason, as knowing they are esteem'd and admir'd by some sort of People, more for their citing some passage of an Unknown or Ancient Author, than pretending to Argument and Reasoning. And thus their Vanity acquiescing in the prospect of the respect that's paid to them, fixes them to the study of uncommon, and out of the way Sciences, that attract the Admiration of the Vulgar.

Pedants therefore are vain, and arrogant, of great Memory, and little Judgments: successful and powerful in Citations, misfortunate and weak in Reasons: Of a vigorous and capacious Imagination; but desultory and disorderly, and unable to keep to any Accuracy and Exactness.

Having thus clear'd the Notion of the word Pedant, it will be no hard matter to prove Montagne as much a Pedant as most others, in this signification of it; which seems most agreeable to Reason and Custom. For I speak not here of the Pedant of the Long Robe, it being not a Paedagogue's Gown that only makes a Pedant. Montagne, who had such an aversion to Pedantry, possibly never wore a Gown; but nevertheless could not divest himself of all his Imperfections. He has labour'd much for a Gentleman-like way, but has taken no great pains for exactness of Thoughts; or if he has, 'twas to very little purpose. And so he became a Genteel Pedant, or a Pedant of a species entirely new; rather than a Rational, Judicious, and a Worthy Man.

Montagne's Book contains so evident Proofs of the Vanity and Arrogance of its Author, as may make it seem an useless Undertaking to stand to remark them. For a Man must needs be very conceited, that, like him, could imagine the World would be at the pains of reading so large a Book, meerly to gain some acquaintance with its Author's Humours. He must necessarily distinguish himself from the rest of the World, and look upon his own Person as the Miracle and Phoenix of Nature.

All created Beings are under an indispensable obligation of turning off the Minds of such as would adore them, towards the only One, that deserves their Adoration: And Religion teaches us never to suffer the Mind and Heart of Man,Apoc. 2. Conservus tuus sum &c. Deum adora. whom GOD created for himself, to be busied about us; and to be taken up with loving and admiring us. When St. John prostrated himself before the Angel of the LORD, the Angel forbad him, saying; I am thy fellow Servant, and of thy Brethren: Worship GOD. None but the Devils, and such as partake of their Pride, are [Page] pleas'd with being worshipp'd: To require therefore that others should be affected and taken up with our particulars, what is it but to desire not only to be worshipp'd with an outward and apparent, but also with a real and inward worship? 'Tis to desire to be worshipp'd even as GOD himself desires it, that is, in Spirit and in Truth.

Montagne wrote his Book purely to picture himself, and represent his own Humours and Inclinations; as he acknowledges himself in the Advertisement to the Reader, inserted in all the Editions. I give the Picture of my self, says he: I am my self the Subject of my Book. Which is found true enough by those that read him; for there are few Chapters wherein he makes not some Digression to talk of himself: and there are even some whole Chapters wherein he talks of nothing else. But if he wrote his Book meerly to describe Himself, he certainly Printed it, that his own Character might be read in it. He therefore desir'd to be the Subject of the Thoughts and Attention of Men; though he says there is no reason a Man should employ his time upon so frivolous and idle a Subject. Which words make only for his Commendation: For if he thought it unreasonable for Men to spend their time in reading his Book, he himself acted against Common Sense in publishing it. And so we are oblig'd to believe either that he Thought not what he said, or did not what became him.

But 'tis a pleasant Excuse of his Vanity, to say he wrote only for his Friends and Relations: For, if so, how chance there were publish'd three Editions? Was not one enough for all his Friends and Relations? Why did he make Additions to his Book in the last Impressions, but no Retractions; but that Fortune favour'd his Intentions? I add, says he, but make no Corrections, because when once a Man has made his Book of publick right, he has, in my Opinion, no more pretence or title to it. Let him say what he can better in another, but let him not corrupt the Works already sold. Of such as these 'tis folly [...]o purchase any thing before they are dead: Let them think long before they publish. Why are they in such haste? My Book is always one and the same. He then was willing to publish his Book for, and deposite it with the rest of the World, as well as to his Friends and Relations. But yet his Vanity had never been pardonable, if he had only turn'd and fix'd the Mind and Heart of his Friends and Relations on his Picture, so long time as is necessary to the reading of his Book.

If 'tis a Fault for a Man to speak often of himself, 'tis Impudence, or rather a kind of Sottishness to praise himself at every turn as Montagne does: This being not only to sin against Ch [...]stian Humility, but also Right Reason.

Men are made for a sociable Life, and to be form'd into Bodies, and Communities. But it must be observ'd, that every particular that makes a part of a Society, would not be thought the meanest part of it. And so those who are their own Encomiasts, exalting themselves above the rest, and looking upon others as the bottom-most parts of their Society, and themselves as the Top-most and most Honourable, assume an Opinion of themselves, that renders them odious, instead of indearing them to the Affections and Esteem of the World.

'Tis then a Vanity, and an indiscreet and ridiculous Vanity in Montagne, to talk so much to his own Advantage, on all occasions: But 'tis a Vanity still more Extravagant in this Author to transcribe his own Imperfections: For if we well observe him, we shall find that most of the Faults he discovers of himself, are such as are glory'd in by the World, by reason of the Corruption of the Age: That he freely attributes such to himself, as can make him pass for a Bold Wit, or give him the Air of a Gentleman; and that with intent to be better credited when he speaks in his own Commendation, he counterfeits a frank Confession of his Irregularities. He has reason to say, that The setting too high an Opinion of one's self, proceeds often from an equally Arrogant Temper. 'Tis always an infallible sign that a Man has an Opinion of himself;L. 3. C [...]. 13 and indeed Montagne seems to me more arrogant and vain, in discommending than praising himself; it being an insufferable Pride, to make his Vices the Motives to his Vanity, rather than to his Humiliation. I had rather see a Man conceal his Crimes with Shame, than publish them with Impudence; and, in my Mind, we ought to have that Vnchristian way of Gallantry in abhorrence, wherein Montagne publishes his Defects. But let us examine the other Qualities of his Mind.

If we would believe Montagne on his word, he would perswade us that he was a Man of No Retention; that his Memory was treacherous, and fail'd him in every thing: L. 2. Ch. 10 L. 1. Ch. 24 L. 2. Ch. 17 But that in his Judgment, there was no defect. And yet should we credit the Portraicture he has drawn of his own Mind, I mean his Book, we should be of a different Opinion. I could not, says he, receive an Order without my Table-book; and if I had an Oration to speak, that was considerably long-winded, I was forc'd to that vile and miserable necessity of learning it word for word by Heart; otherwise I had neither Presence nor Assurance, for fear my Memory should shew me a slippery trick. Does a Man that could learn Memoriter, word for word long-winded Discourses, to give him some Presence and Assurance, fail more in his Memory than his Judgment? And can we believe Montagne when he says, I am forc'd to call my Domestick Servants by the Names of their Offices, or their Countries; it being the most difficult thing to remember Names; and if I should live long, I am perswaded I should forget my own? That a plain Gentleman, who could retain by Heart, and word for word, and with Assurance, long-winded Discourses, should have such a multitude of Servants, that he could not remember their Names! That a Man, who was Born and Bred in the midst of Fields and Tillage, L. 12. Ch▪ 17. who kept Business and Farms in his Hands; and who says, To be regardless of what lies at our Feet, of what we have in our Hands, and of what most nearly concerns the necessities and use of Life, is a thing utterly inconsistent with his Maxim, should forget the French Names of his Domesticks! Could he be ignorant, as he says, of the most part of our Coins in use, the difference of one Grain from another, either [Page] in the Earth or Granary, unless it were the most manifest; of the grossest Principles of Agriculture, which there's hardly a Child but knows; what use Leaven is of in making Bread; and why Wine must stand sometime in the Fat, before it ferments, and yet has his Mind stor'd with the Names of the Ancient Philosophers and their Principles; with the Idea's of Plato, Epicurus's Atoms, the Plenum and Vacuum of Leucippus and Democritus; the Water of Thales, Anaximander's Infinity of Nature, L. 2. Ch. 12 Diogenes's Air, the Numbers and Symmetry of Pythagoras, the Infinite of Parmenides; the Vnity of Musaeus; the Water and Fire of Apollodorus; the Similar Parts of Anaxagoras; the Discord and Friendship of Empedocles; the Fire of Heraclitus, &c. A Man that in three or four Pages of his Book, quotes more than fifty different Authors, with their Opinions: Who has fill'd his Book with various Historical Passages, and many confus'd Apophthegms; who in point of Books, says, History and Poesy were his Excellency: Who contradicts himself every moment, and in the same Chapter, and even in the speaking of things he pretends to be best acquainted with; I mean the Qualities of his Mind, should this Man boast that his Judgment is better than his Memory?

We will confess that Montagne was Excellent at Forgetfulness, since Montagne assure us of it, and would have us think so; nor is this altogether contrary to Truth. But let us not believe him on his word, or for the Praises that he gives himself; that he was a Man of great Sense, and of extraordinary Sagacity of Mind: For this might engage us in Error, and give too much Countenance to those false and dangerous Opinions, he puts off with a presumptuous and dogmatical Arrogance, which only confounds and blinds the feebler sorts of Minds.

The other Encomium they bestow on Montagne, is, that he was perfectly acquainted with the Mind of Man; that he survey'd it to the bottom, its Nature, and its Properties; that he knew the strong and weak sides of it; and, in a word, all that could be known of it. Let us see if he deserve these Praises, and whence it comes to pass Men are so liberal on his behalf.

Those who have read Montagne, know well enough that he would fain pass for a Pyrrhonist, and that he takes Pride in doubting of all things. The perswasion of Certainty in any thing, says he, is a certain testimony of Folly, L. 1. Ch. 22 and extream incertainty; and there is not a foolisher and less Philosophical sort of Men, than the Philodox of Plato: On the contrary, he extolls the Pyrrhonists at that excessive rate in the same Chapter, that 'tis not to be doubted but he was of the same Sect. 'Twas necessary in the time he liv'd, to doubt of every thing, to pass for a Man of Parts and a Gentleman; and the Quality of a Bold Wit, which he pretended to, engag'd him farther in these Opinions. Now 'tis but supposing him an Academick, to be able at one stroke to manifest him the most ignorant of all Men; not only in what relates to the Nature of the Mind, but in every thing else. For since there is an Essential difference between Knowing and Doubting, if the Academicks say what they think; when they assure us, They know nothing, we may conclude they are the most Ignorant Persons in the World.

But they are not only the most Ignorant of all others; but also the most Vnreasonable Defenders of their Opinions: For they not only reject what is most certain, and universally receiv'd, to be thought the Bold Wits; but by the same strength of Imagination, love to talk in a Decisive Magisterial strain, about the most uncertain and improbable things in Nature. Montagne affords us a manifest Instance of this Distemper of Mind: And we must necessarily say he was not only ignorant of the Nature of an Humane Mind, but was in the grossest Errors upon that Subject, supposing he had said what he thought of it, as he ought to have done.

For what can we say of a Man that confounds the Mind with Matter, that reports the most extravagant Opinions of the Philosophers, about the Nature of the Soul, without despising them; and in a way that gives us to understand he lik'd those best, that were most opposite to Reason: Who saw no necessity of the Immortality of our Souls; who thinks it indiscoverable by Humane Reason; and who looks upon the Arguments that are given for it, as Dreams, which the desire of it breeds in us: Somnia non docentis, sed optantis: Who finds fault with Men for separating from the Crowd of other Creatures, and distinguishing themselves from Beasts, which he calls our Fellow Brethren and Companions; who believes they converse with, and understand each other, and ridicule us; as we discourse and understand one another, and laugh at them; who makes a greater difference betwixt Man and Man, than betwixt a Man and a Beast: Who attributes even to Spiders, Deliberation, Thought, and Conclusion. And who after having maintain'd, that the Disposition of the Humane Body, had no advantage over that of Beasts, readily embraces this Opinion. That 'tis not by our Reason, our Discourse, our Soul, we have the Ascendant over Beasts; but on the account of our Beauty, the fineness of our Complection, and the excellent Disposition of our Members, in comparison of which we ought to give up our Intelligence, Prudence, and the rest, as trivial Accomplishments, &c. Can any one say that a Man who concludes with such the most extravagant Opinions, as that 'Tis not by the Deductions of Reason, but our Arrogance and Obstinacy, that we give our selves the Preeminence above other Animals, had a very exact Knowledge of the Mind of Man? Or can he think to convince others herein?

But we should do all Men Justice, and impartially declare what was the Character of Montange's Mind. He had indeed but little Memory, and still less Judgment: But these two Qualities put together, make not that accomplish'd thing which generally goes by the Name of Fineness and Beauty of Wit or Parts. 'Tis the Beauty, the Vivacitys and the Extent of Imagination which are the Ingredients of the Fine Wit. 'Tis the glittering and not the solid Mind, that pleases the generality; because they love what touches the Senses above that which instructs their Reason. And thus taking the Fineness of Imagination for the Fineness of the Mind, we may say, that Montagne had a Mind Fine, and indeed extraordinary: His Idea's are false, but handsom. His Expressions [Page] irregular and bold, but taking: His discourses ill-season'd, but well imagin'd. There appears throughout his Book the Character of an Original, that is infinitely pleasing. As great a Copyer as he is, the Copyer is not discern'd; his strong and bold Imagination giving always the turn of an Original, even to what was the most stol'n. To conclude, he has every thing necessary either for pleasing us, or imposing on us: And, I think, I have sufficiently shewn, that 'tis not by convincing their Reason he gets into the Favour and Admiration of Men, but by turning their Mind by an ever-victorious Vivacity of his imperious Imagination.

CHAP. VI.

I. Of Witches in Imagination, and of Wolf-men. II. The Conclusion of the two first Books.

THE strangest effect of the force of Imagination, is the immoderate Fear of the Apparition of Spirits, Witchcraft, Spells, and Charms, Lycanthropes or Wolf-men, and generally of whatever is suppos'd to depend on the Power of the Devil.

There is nothing more terrible, or that frightens the Mind more,I. Of Imaginary Witches. and makes deeper impressions in the Brain, than the Idea of an invisible Power, intent upon doing us mischief, and to which we can make no resistance: Whatever Discourses raise that Idea, are attended to with dread, and curiosity: Now Men affecting all that's extraordinary, take a whimsical delight in relating surprizing and prodigious Stories, of the Power and Malice of Witches, both to the scaring others and themselves. And so we need not wonder that Sorcerers and Witches are so common in some Countries, where the belief of the Witches-Sabbath is deeply rooted in the Mind: Where all the most extravagant Relations of Witchcrafts are listen'd to as Authentic Histories; and where Madmen and Visionists, whose Imagination has been distemper'd through the recital of these Stories, and the corruption of their Hearts, are burnt for real Sorcerers and Witches.

I know well enough I shall incur the blame of a great many, for attributing the most part of Witchcrafts to the power of Imagination, as knowing Men love to be scar'd and frightned; that they are angry with such as would disabuse them, and are like those imaginary sick People, who respectfully harken to, and punctually execute the orders of Physicians who prognosticate direful accidents to them: For Superstitions are not easily either destroy'd or oppos'd without finding a great number of Patrons and Defenders. And that Inclination to a blind-fold Belief of all the Dreams and Illusions of Demonographers is produc'd, and upheld by the same Cause; which makes the Superstitious stiff and untractable, as it were easie to demonstrate. However, this ought not to discourage me from shewing in a few words, how I believe such Opinions as these take footing.

A Shepherd in his Cottage after Supper, gives his Wife and Children a Narrative of the adventures of the Witches-Sabbath. And having his Imagination moderately warm'd by the Vapours of strong Liquors, and fancying he has been often an Assistant at that imaginary Rendezvous, fails not to deliver himself in a manner strong and lively. His natural Eloquence, together with the Disposition his whole Family is in, to hearken to a Subject so new and terrible, must doubtless produce prodigious Impressions in weak Imaginations; nor is it naturally possible but his Wife and Children must be dismay'd, must be affected and convinc'd with what they hear him say. 'Tis an Husband, 'tis a Father that speaks of what himself has been an Eye-witness and Agent: He is belov'd and respected, and why should he not be believ'd? The Shepherd repeats the same thing one day after another; his Wif [...]'s and Children's Imagination receive deeper and deeper Impressions of it by degrees, till at last it grows familiar; their Fears vanish, but Conviction stays behind; and at length Curiosity invites them to go to it themselves. They anoint themselves, and lay them down to sleep: This Disposition of Heart, gives an additional heat to their Imagination, and the Traces the Shepherd had imprinted on their Brain open, so as to make them fancy in their sleep all the Motions of the Ceremony he had describ'd to them, present and real. They wake, and ask each other, and give a mutual Relation of what they say. And thus they strengthen the Traces of their Vision; and he who has the strongest Imagination, having the best knack at perswading the rest, fails not in a few Nights time, to Methodize the Imaginary History of the Sabbath. Here now are your finish'd Witches of the Shepherd's making; and these in their turn will make many others, if having a strong and lively Imagination, they be not deterr'd by Fear from telling the like Stories.

There have been known such hearty down-right Witches, as made no scruple to confess to every body their going to the Sabbath; and who were so throughly convinc'd of it, that though several Persons watch'd them, and assur'd them they never stirr'd out of their Bed, yet have withstood their Testimony, and persisted in their own perswasion.

We all know that when Children hear Tales of Spirits, what frights they are put into, and that they have not courage to stay without Light and Company: Because at that time their Brain receiving not the Impressions of any present Object, opens in those Traces that are form'd in it by the Story, and that with so much force, as frequently to set before their Eyes, the Objects represented [Page] to them; And yet these Stories are not told them as if they were true, nor spoken in a manner denoting the Belief of them in the Speaker; and sometimes coldly and without the least concern. Which may make it less to be admir'd, that a Man who believes he has been present at the Witches-Sabbath, and consequently affirms it in a serious tone, and with a look of assurance, should easily convince his respectful Auditory of all the circumstances he describes to them; and thereby transmit into their Imagination, Impressions, like those he was himself abus'd with.

Men in speaking engrave in our Brain such Impressions as they have themselves. When they are deep they speak in a way that makes a deep Impression upon others: For they never speak, but they make them like themselves in some thing or other. Children in their Mother's Womb, have only the Perceptions of their Mothers; and when brought into the World, imagine little more than what their Parents are the cause of; even the wisest Men take their Measures, rather from the Imagination of others, that is, from Opinion and Custom, than from the Rules of Reason. Thus in the places where Witches are burnt, we find great numbers of them, it being taken for granted, they are really what they were executed for; and this Belief is strengthened by the Discourses that are made of them. Should they cease to punish them, and treat them as Mad-folks, we should see in a little time no more Witches; because those that are only imaginarily so, which certainly make the greatest number, would return to sober Sense again.

'Tis certain that True Witches deserve Death, and that the Imaginary are not to be reputed altogether innocent: For generally they never fancy themselves to be Witches, without having their Heart dispos'd to go to the Sabbath, and anointing their Bodies with some Drug, to bring about their wicked Design: But by punishing all these Criminals without distinction, the common Perswasion gathers strength, the Imaginary Witches daily multiply, and a great many People destroy their Lives and Souls together. Wherefore 'tis not without Reason, several of our Courts have left off punishing them; since which, there are found but few that are within their Jurisdiction; and the Envy, Hatred, and Malice of the Wicked, cannot use that pretence to the Destruction of the Innocent.

The Apprehension of Wolf-men, or of Men, who imagine themselves transform'd into Wolves, is a Fancy no less ridiculous.Of Wolf-men. A Man by an extraordinary Sally of Imagination, falls into a sort of Madness, that makes him fancy he grows a Wolf every Night. This Disorder of his Mind, disposes him to the doing all the Actions that Wolves either do, or he has heard of them. He leaps then out of his House at Midnight, roams along the Streets, falls upon some Child he meets with, bites, tears, and miserably misuses it. The Stupid and Superstitious People imagine this Fanatick is really turn'd Wolf; because the wretch believes it himself, and has whisper'd it to some Persons, who cannot conceal the Secret.

Were it an easie thing to form in the Brain such Impressions, as perswade Men they are transform'd into Wolves; and could they run along the Streets and make all the havock those wretched Wolf-men do, without an entire subversion of their Brain (as 'tis an easie matter for a Man to go to the Witches-Sabbath, in his Bed, and without waking) these notable Stories of Men Metamorphos'd into Wolves, would have no less effect than those that are told of the Rendezvous of Witches; and we should have as many Wolf-men as we have Wizards. But the perswasion of being chang'd into a Wolf, supposes a subversion of Brain much harder to be effected, than that Disorder of one, who only thought he went to the Midnight-Sabbath; that is, of one, who fancy'd he saw in the Night what was not, and who, when he waked, could not distinguish his Dreams from the Thoughts he had in the Day-time.

'Tis a very common thing for some Men to have such lively Dreams, as to remember every particular of them when they wake, though the subject of their Dream, has nothing in it very terrible; and so 'tis no hard matter for Men to perswade themselves they have been at the Witches-Sabbath; since to this no more is requir'd, than that their Brain preserve the footsteps in it, which were made by the Animal Spirits in their Sleep.

The main Reason way we cannot take our Dreams for Realities, is, the Incoherence we find in our Dreams, with the things we have done, when awake: For hereby we discover they are only Dreams. Now this is no Rule for the Sorcerer to judge by, that his Sabbath is a Dream; for he never goes to the Sabbath but in the Night-time, and the Occurrences therein are incapable of having any Connection with the other Actions of the Day; so that 'tis Morally impossible he should be made sensible of his Error by this Means. Nor is there any necessity, that the things fancy'd to be seen by these pretended Witches at the Sabbath, should have any Natural Order to one another; since they seem so much the more real, as they are the more extravagant and confus'd in Coherence. Wherefore it makes enough for their Deception, that the Idea's of these Sabbatic Ceremonies be lively and frightful; as 'tis impossible they should be otherwise, if it be consider'd, that they represent things wholly new and extraordinary.

But the Imagination must be highly distemper'd, before a Man can fancy himself a Cock, a Goat, a Wolf, or an Ox; which is the reason the thing is no commoner; though these Disorders of Mind sometimes happen either through GOD's punitive Justice, as in the case of Nebuc [...]odonosor, related in Scripture, or by a natural overflowing of Melancholy in the Brain, whereof many Instances are to be met with in the Books of Physicians.

Though I am satisfy'd, that real Witches are extreamly rare, and that their Sabbath is nothing but a Dream; and that the Courts, which throw out the Indictments of Witchcraft, are the most equitable; yet I doubt not but there may be Sorcerers, Charms, and Witchcraft, and that GOD sometimes permits the Devil to exercise his Malice upon Men. But we are taught by holy Scripture, [Page] that The Kingdom of Satan is destroy'd; and that an Angel of Heaven has chain'd up the Devil, and shut him in the Abyss, from whence he shall never escape till the end of the World: That this is the Strong Man, CHRIST has disarm'd and spoil'd; and that the time is come, when the Prince of the World is banish'd out of his Kingdom.

He reign'd till the Coming of our SAVIOVR, and he reigns still, if any one will have it so, in those places, where the Knowledge of our SAVIOVR is not come. But he has no Right or Power over those, who are Regenerated in JESVS CHRIST. He cannot so much as tempt them, unless by GOD's Permission; and if he permits it, 'tis that they may overcome him: 'Tis therefore doing the Devil too much honour, to make such Histories, as illustrate his Power, as is done by our new Demonographers; since these Histories render him formidable to weaker Minds.

We ought to despise the Devils, as we despise Executioners, and tremble before GOD alone: 'Tis his Power we should only fear, his Judgments and his Wrath, we should only dread, and never provoke him by the contempt of his Laws and his Gospel. He deserves to be attended to, when he speaks himself; and so do Men when they speak of him. But 'tis ridiculous to be frightned and troubled when they speak of the Power of the Devil; our trouble is too great an honour to our Enemy, who loves to be respected and fear'd; and we sacrifice to his Pride, when we prostrate and abase our Mind before him.

'Tis now time to put an end to this Second Book, and to remind you,II. The C [...]nclusion of the two first Book▪ by what has been said in this and the Fore-going Book, That all the Thoughts the Soul has through the means of, or with dependance on the Body, are wholly for the Body; and are either all false, or obscure: That they are only instrumental in uniting us to sensible Goods, and to whatever can procure them, which Union engages us in infinite Errors and excessive Miseries; though we are not always sensible of these Miseries, no more than we are of the Errors that occasion them. I give here a remarkable Instance.

The Union that we had with our Mothers in their Womb, which is the strictest possible to be had with Mankind, was the Cause of two of the greatest Evils, namely, Sin and Concupiscence; which are the Original of all our Miseries. And yet for the forming of our Body, it was necessary that Union should be so close and strict as it is.

This Union which was broken at our Birth, was succeeded by another, whereby Children are con-sociated to their Parents and their Nurses. This second Union was not so strict as the former, and therefore did us not so much mischief; having only inclin'd us to believe and imitate all that our Parents and Nurses do and say. 'Tis plain this second Union was farther necessary, not as the first, for the forming, but the preserving of our Body; that we might know all the things useful or advantagious to it, and might accommodate it to such Motions as are necessary to obtain them.

Last of all, the Union which we have at present with all Men, is unavoidably the cause of a great deal of Evil to us; though it be not so strait, as being less necessary to the Preservation of our Body.

For 'tis upon the score of this Union, we live by Opinion, that we esteem and love, what is esteem'd and lov'd in the World, in spight of the Remorse of our Consciences and the true Idea's that we have of things. I speak not here of the Union we have with the Mind of other Men; in behalf of which it may be said, we receive instruction from it: I speak only of the sensible Union that is between our Imagination, and the Air, and Manner of those that speak to us. We see then how all the Thoughts we have by the Dependance on the Body, are false, and so much the more dangerous to the Soul, as they are the more useful to the Body.

Which being so, let us try to rid our selves by degrees of the Delusions of our Sense, of the Vision and Chimera's of our Imagination, and of the Impression made by other Men's Imaginations on our Mind. Let us carefully reject all the confus'd Idea's we have contracted through the Dependance we are in to our Body; and let us only admit the clear and evident Idea's which the Mind receives through its necessary Union with the Divine Logos, or with Eternal Wisdom and Truth; as we shall explain in the following Book, which treats Of the Vnderstanding or Pure Mind.

F. MALEBRANCHE'S TREATISE, CONCERNING The Search after TRUTH. BOOK the THIRD, Concerning The UNDERSTANDING, OR The Pure Intellect.

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CHAP. I.

I. Thought is only essential to the Mind. Sensation and Imagination are only the Modifications of it. II. We know not all the Modifications our Soul is capable of. III. They are different from our Knowledge and our Love, nor are they always Consequences of them.

THE Subject of this Third Book is somewhat dry and barren: In which we enquire into the Mind consider'd alone, and without any reference to the Body, in order to discover the Infirmities peculiar to it, and the Errors deriving only from it. The Senses and Imagination are exuberant and inexhaustible Sources of Error and Deception: But the Mind acting by it self, is not so subject to straying and misconduct. It was a difficult thing to put an end to the two last Treatises; and 'tis no less difficult to begin this; not that there is not enough to be said on the Nature and Properties of the Mind; but because we enquire not here so much into its Properties, as its Weaknesses. 'Tis not therefore to be wonder'd, if this Tract is not so large, nor discovers so many Errors as the two fore-going; nor ought it to be complain'd of for being somewhat Dry, Abstract, and Applicative. For 'tis impossible in all Discourses to move the Senses and Imaginations of others; nor ought it always to be done: A Subject of an abstract Nature, in becoming sensible, commonly grows obscure, and 'tis enough to be made intelligible: So that nothing is more unjust, than the usual Complaints of those, who would know every thing, and yet take pains for nothing; who take pet, if you desire them to be attentive: who would ever be touch'd and mov'd, and have their Senses and their Passions eternally gratify'd: But, we confess our selves unable to give them Satisfaction. Writers of Comedies and Romances, are oblig'd to please, and to procure Attention; but for us, it's sufficient if we can instruct, even those that labour to make themselves attentive.

The Errors of the Senses and Imagination, proceed from the Nature and Constitution of the Body; and are expos'd to view, by considering what Dependency the Soul's in to it: But the Errors of the Pure Understanding cannot be discover'd, but by considering the Nature of the Mind it self, and of the Idea's that are necessary to its knowing Objects. And therefore to penetrate into the Causes of the Errors of the Pure Understanding, 'twill be necessary to insist in this Book, on the consideration of the Nature of the Mind, and of Intellectual Idea's.

[Page]In the first place, I shall treat of the Mind, consider'd in its own Nature, without any Relation to the Body, to which it is united. So that what I shall say on this point, will extend to pure Intelligences, and by stronger Reason to what we call Pure Understanding. For by the Word Pure Vnderstanding, I mean only to design that Faculty, the Mind has of knowing External Object, without forming Corporeal Images of them in the Brain, to represent them by. After which I shall discourse of Intellectual Idea's, by means of which the Pure Vnderstanding perceives Exteriour Objects.

I am perswaded no Man can doubt, after he has seriously thought on it,I. Thought only is essential to the Soul. Sensation and Imagination are only the Modifications of it. but the By the Essence of a thing, I mean that which is first conceiv'd in it, on which depend all the Modifications observ'd in it. Essence of the Mind consists only in Thought, as the Essence of Matter consists only in Extension; and that according to the different Modifications of Thought, the Mind one while Wills, and another while Imagines, or has many other particular Forms, as according to the different Modifications of Extension, Matter is sometimes Water, sometimes Wood, and sometimes Fire; or has abundance of other particular Forms.

I only advertise thus much, That by the word Thought, I understand not here the particular Modifications of the Soul, that is, this or that particular Thought, but Thought capable of all sorts of Modifications, or of all sorts of Thoughts; as by Extension is not meant this or that Extension round or square, for instance, but Extension capable of all sorts of Modifications, or of Figures: And this Comparison would have no difficulty in it, but that we have not so clear an Idea of Thought as we have of Extension; for we only know Thought by Internal Sentiment or Conscience, Second Part of the Pure Mind Chap. 7. as I make out hereafter.

I am farther perswaded, it is impossible to conceive a Mind, without Thought; though 'tis easie enough to conceive one without Actual Sensation, Imagination, and even without Volition; in like manner, as 'tis impossible to conceive any Matter without Extension, though it be easie to conceive one that's neither Earth nor Mettle, neither square nor round, and which likewise is not in Motion. Hence we ought to conclude, that as there may be a Portion of Matter; that is neither Earth nor Mettal, neither square nor round, nor yet in Motion; so there may be a Mind, that neither feels Heat nor Cold, neither Joy nor Sorrow; that Imagines nothing, and even Wills nothing; so that all these Modifications are not essential to it. Thought therefore is only the Essence of the Mind, as Extension only is the Essence of Matter.

But as Matter or Extension, were it without Motion, would be altogether useless▪ and incapable of that variety of Forms, for which it is created; and 'tis not conceivable that an Intelligent Being design'd to produce it in that manner; so were a Mind or Thought without Volition, it is plain it would be wholly useless, since that Mind would have no tendency towards the Objects of its Perceptions; nor would it love Good, for which it was created; So that 'tis impossible to be conceiv'd, that an Intelligent Being should have produc'd it in such a condition. Notwithstanding, as Motion is not the Essence of Matter, since it supposes Extension; so Volition is not the Essence of the Mind, since Volition supposes Perception.

Thought therefore all alone, is what constitutes the Essence of the Mind ▪ and the different manners of Thinking, as Sensation and Imagination, are only the Modifications it is capable of, but wherewith it is not always modify'd: But Volition is a Property that always accompanies it, whether in Conjunction with, or Separation from the Body; which yet is not Essential to it, since it supposes Thought, and 'tis possible to conceive a Mind without Will, as a Body without Motion.

However the Power of Willing is inseparable from the Mind, though it be not essential to it; as the Capacity of being mov'd is inseparable from Matter, though it be not included in its Essence. For as it is impossible to conceive any Matter that cannot be mov'd, so 'tis impossible to conceive any Mind, that has not the Power of Willing, or is incapable of any Natural Inclination. But again, as Matter may be conceiv'd to exist without any Motion, so the Mind may be conceiv'd to exist without any Impression of the Author of Nature towards Good, and consequently without Will. For the Will is nothing but the Impression of the Author of Nature, which carries us towards Good in general; as we have explain'd more at large, in the first Chapter of the First Book.

What has been said in that Treatise of the Senses, and what we have now said,II. We know not all the Modifications our Soul is capable of. of the Nature of the Mind, does not suppose we know all the Modifications it is capable of: We are far from making such like Suppositions; believing on the contrary, that the Mind has a Capacity of receiving an infinite succession of diverse Modifications, which the same Mind knows nothing of.

The least portion of Matter is capable of receiving a Figure of three, six, ten, or of ten thousand Sides; also a Circular, or Elliptic Figure, which may be consider'd as Figures of infinite Sides and Angles. The different Species of each of these Figures are innumerable; Infinite are Triangles of a different Species, and more still are the Figures of four, six, ten, or ten thousand Sides, and of infinite Polygones. For a Circle, an Ellipsis, and in general every regular or irregular Curvilin'd Figure, may be consider'd as an infinite Polygone: An Ellipsis, for instance, as an infinite Polygone, but whose Sides or Angles are unequal, being greater towards the little Diameter, than the great; and so of other infinite Polygones, more compound and irregular.

A plain piece of Wax therefore is capable of infinite, or rather infinitely infinite different Modifications, which no Mind can comprehend. What reason is there then to imagine that the Soul, which is far more noble than the Body, should be capable only of those Modifications she has already receiv'd?

[Page]Had we never Felt Pleasure or Pain, had we never Seen Light nor Colour; or had we been with respect to all things, as the Blind and Deaf are, in regard to Sounds and Colours; should we have had Reason to conclude we were incapable of all the Sensations we have of Objects? For these Sensations are only the Modifications of our Soul, as has been prov'd in the Book concerning the Senses.

It must be granted then, that the Capacity the Soul has of Receiving different Modifications, is probably greater than the Capacity it has of Conceiving. I would say, that as the Mind cannot exhaust, or comprehend all the Figures Matter can be fashion'd in, so it can't comprehend all the different Modifications possible for the Almighty Hand of GOD to Mint the Soul into, though it knew as distinctly the Capacity of the Soul, as it knows that of Matter; which yet it cannot do, for the Reasons I shall bring in the Seventh Chapter of the Second Part of this Book.

If the Soul, whilst we are on Earth, receives but few Modifications, 'tis because it is united to the Body, and depends upon it. All her Sensations have reference to her Body, and as she has not the Fruition of GOD, so she has none of those Modifications this Fruition should produce. The Matter whereof our Body is compos'd, is capable but of very few Modifications in our Lifetime; it cannot be resolv'd into Earth and Vapour, till after our Death: It cannot at present become Air, Fire, Diamond, or Mettal; it cannot grow round, square, or triangular; it must necessarily be Flesh, and have the Figure of a Man, to the end the Soul may be united to it. 'Tis the same case with our Soul: She must necessarily have the Sensations of Heat, Cold, Colour, Light, Sounds, Odors, Tasts, and many other Modifications, to the end she may continue united to her Body. All her Sensations are subservient to the Preservation of her Machine. They trouble her, and dismay her, if but the least inward Spring chance to break or slaken; which necessarily subjects the Soul to her Body, as long as her Body is subject to Corruption. But when the Body shall be cloath'd with Immortality, and we shall no longer fear the Dissolution of it parts; 'tis reasonable to believe the Soul shall be no longer touch'd with those incommodious Sensations, which we feel against our Will; but with infinite others of a different kind, whereof we have at present no Idea; which will exceed all that we can think, and will be worthy the Greatness and Goodness of the GOD we shall enjoy.

'Tis therefore unreasonable for any one to think he so throughly comprehends the Nature of the Soul, as to be able to pronounce it incapable of any thing more than Knowledge, and Love. This indeed might be maintain'd by those who attribute their Sensations to external Objects, or to their Body; and who would have their Passions to be in their Hearts. For indeed if we rob the Soul of all her Passions and Sensations, all that we leave discoverable in her is, no more than a consequence of Knowledge, or of Love. But I cannot conceive how those who are retriev'd from those Delusions of the Senses, can perswade themselves, that all our Sensations and our Passions, are nothing but knowledge and Love; I would say, Species of confus'd Judgments the Soul passes upon Objects, with reference to the Body which she Animates. I cannot conceive, how a Man can affirm Light, Colours, Odors, and the like, to be Judgments of the Soul; for it seems to me on the contrary, that I distinctly perceive Light, Colours, Smells, and the other Sensations, to be Modifications quite different from Judgments.

But let us make choice of more lively Sensations, and such as the Mind is most taken up with; and see what these Persons say of Pain and Pleasure. They will have these Sensations, with several most considerable S. Aug. lib. 6. de Musica. Des Cartes in his Man, &c. Authors, to be only the consequences or dependences of the Faculties we we have of Knowing and Willing; and that Pain, for instance, is only the Regret, the Opposition, and Aversion the Will has, to what she knows hurtful to the Body which she loves. Now to me this seems evidently to confound Pain with Sorrow; but so far is Pain from being a Consequence of the Knowledge of the Mind, and the Action of the Will, that on the contrary it precedes them both.

If you put, for example, a burning Coal in the Hand of a Man asleep, or that was warming his Hands behind him; I know not how it can be with any probability affirm'd, that this Man first knew there happen'd in his Hand some Motions contrary to the good Constitution of his Body; that hereupon his Will oppos'd them; and that his Pain was the Consequence of that Knowledge of his Mind, and Opposition of his Will. On the contrary, it is in my Opinion undoubtedly certain, that the first thing this Man perceiv'd as soon as the Coal touch'd his Hand, was Pain; and that the Knowledge of the Mind, and Opposition of the Will, were only the Consequences of it, though they were truly the Cause of the Sorrow which succeeded the Pain.

But there's a vast difference between this Pain and the Sorrow it produces. Pain is the first thing the Soul is sensible of; it is not preceded by any Knowledge, nor can ever be agreeable and welcome of it self. Whereas Sorrow is the last thing the Soul feels; it is ever preceded with Knowledge, and is always pleasant of it self. This is evidently manifest from the Pleasure that attends the Sorrow a Man's affected with, at the direful Representations of the Theatre; for this Pleasure increases with the Sorrow; but Pleasure never increases with Pain. The Comedians, who study the Art of Pleasing, know well that they must never lay the Stage in Blood; because the sight, though of a fictitious Murder, would be too Terrible to be Pleasant: But they are not afraid of touching the Spectators with a deep Sorrow; because Sorrow is ever agreeable, when there's occasion to be mov'd with it. There is then an Essential difference between [Page] Sorrow and Pain; and it can no wise be said, that Pain is nothing but the Knowledge of the Mind, together with an Opposition of the Will.

As to all the other Sensations, such as are Smells, Tasts, Sounds, Colours, the generality of Men do not think they are the Modifications of their Soul. But on the contrary, judge they are diffus'd upon the Objects; or at least that they are only in the Soul, as an Idea of a Square or a Circle; that is, are united to the Soul, but are not the Modifications of it; and the Reason of their judging thus is, that this kind of Sensations do not much affect them; as I have shewn in the Explication of the Errors of the Senses.

It ought then, I think, to be concluded, That we know not all the Modifications incident to our Soul; and that, besides those which she has by the Organs of Senses, it is impossible for her to have infinite others, which she has never experimented, nor ever shall, till deliver'd from the captivity of her Body.

And yet it must be confess'd, that as Matter is not capable of infinite different Configurations, but because of its Extension; so the Soul is not capable of different Modifications but on the account of Thought; it being manifest that the Soul would be incapable of the Modifications of Pleasure, Pain, and even of those that are indifferent to her, were it not for her being capable of Perception or Thought.

It is sufficient then to know, that Thought is the Principle of all these Modifications: If any one will have something in the Soul previous to Thought, I shall not dispute it with him: But as I am assur'd that no One has any Knowledge of his Soul, but by Thought, or by being inwardly conscious of what passes in his Mind; so I am certain that if any One would reason about the Nature of the Soul, he ought only to consult that Internal Sensation, which constantly represents her to himself such as she is, and not to imagine against the conviction of his own Conscience, that she is an invisible Fire, a subtile Air, Harmony, or the like.

CHAP. II.

I. The Mind being limited, cannot comprehend any thing of an infinite Nature. II. Its Limitation is the Origine of a great many Errors: III. And especially of Heresies. IV. The Mind must be submitted unto Faith.

SO then, that which we immediately discover in the Thought of Man,I. The Mind being limited, cannot comprehend anything of an infinite Nature. is its being limited to a very narrow compass; from which consideration may be drawn two very important Conclusions: As first, that the Soul cannot perfectly know Infinity. Secondly, that she can have no distinct Knowledge of many things at once. For as a piece of Wax is incapable of admitting at the same time a great number of different Figures; so the Soul is incapable of knowing at the same time a multitude of things. And as again a piece of Wax cannot be square and round at the same time, but only semi-square and semi-circular; and the more different Figures it has, the less perfect and distinct they will be; so the Soul cannot perceive many things at once; and her Thoughts will be so much more confus'd, as they are more numerous.

Last of all, as a piece of Wax, which had a thousand Faces, and on each Face a different Figure, would be neither square, nor round, nor oval, nor could a Man say what Figure it was of: So it sometimes happens that a Man has such a multitude of different Thoughts, that he fancies he thinks of nothing at all; which is exemplify'd in those that fall into a Trance. The Animal Spirits irregularly turning in their Brain, excite such a multitude of Traces, as not to open any one strongly enough, to produce any particular Sensation, or distinct Idea in the Mind; so that these Persons perceive so many things at once, that they have no distinct Perception of any, and this makes them conclude they have perceiv'd nothing.

Not but that sometimes Men swoon away for want of Animal Spirits: But at that time the Soul having only Thoughts of Pure Intellection, which leave no Traces in the Brain, we never remember them when we come to our selves; and that makes us believe we have thought of Nothing. This I have said by the way, to shew it is a mistake to believe the Soul does not always think, because Men fancy sometimes they think not of any thing.

Every one that reflects but a little upon his own Thoughts, is experimentally convinc'd that the Mind cannot apply it self to the consideration of many things at once,II. The limitation of the mind is the Origine of a great many Errors. and à fortiori is unable to comprehend what's infinite. And yet out of an unaccountable Capricio, such as are not ignorant of this, apply themselves rather to the Contemplation of infinite Objects, and of Questions that demand an infinite capacity of Mind, than to such as are suited to the Reach and Abilities of their mind. And a great many others, who would fain know all things, study so many Sciences at once, as only confound the Understanding and incapacitate it for any true Science at all.

How many do we see desirous of comprehending the Divisibility of Matter ad infinitum ▪ and of knowing how 'tis possible for a grain of Sand to contain so many parts in it, as this Earth, tho' proportionably lesser. What a multitude of Questions are form'd, never to be resolv'd upon that subject; and many others which include any thing of Infinity in them; the Resolution of [Page] which, Men think to find in their own Mind? When yet, though they study them till they sweat, all they gain at last, is only to be opinionated with some Error, or Extravagance or other.

'Tis certainly a very Pleasant thing to see Men deny the Divisibility of matter to infinitum; meerly because they cannot comprehend it, though they rightly comprehend the Demonstrations that prove it; and this at the same time that they confess it impossible for the Mind of Man to comprehend Infinity. For the Arguments which shew matter to be divisible to Infinity, are demonstrative, if there were ever any such; and they acknowledge it when they consider them with Attention. Notwithstanding which, if they hear Objections propos'd, which they cannot Answer, their Mind recoils from the Evidence just perceiv'd, and they begin to boggle at them. They are earnestly taken up with the Objection which they cannot Answer; they invent some frivolous Distinction to the Demonstrations of infinite Divisibility; and conclude at last they were deceiv'd; and that all the World is in an Error. Hence they embrace the contrary Opinion, and defend it by Turgid Points (Puncta inflata) and such kind of Extravagances their Imagination is sure to furnish them withal. Now the reason of their Delusions, is the want of being inwardly convinc'd, that the Mind of Man is Finite; and that there is no necessity of comprehending the Divisibility of Matter to infinity, in order to be perswaded of it: Because all the Objections that require the Comprehending it for their Resolution, are such as 'tis impossible should be resolv'd.

Would Men only stick to such Questions as these, we should not have much reason to be concern'd at it: For though there may be some that are prepossess'd with particular Errors, yet they are Errors of little consequence. And as for the rest, they have not altogether lost their time, in thinking on things they cannot comprehend: For at least they are convinc'd of the Weakness of their Mind. ‘'Tis good (says a very Judicious Art of Thinking. Author) to tire and fatigue the Mind with such kind of Subtilties, in order to tame its Presumption, and to make it less daring, ever to oppose its feeble Lights to the Truths propos'd to it by the Gospel, under pretence it cannot comprehend them.’ For since all the strength of the Mind of Men is oblig'd to fall under the weight of the least Atom of Matter, and to acknowledge, it clearly sees, it is infinitely divisible, without being able to comprehend how 'tis possible: Is this not visibly to sin against Reason, to refuse to believe the wonderful Effects of the Almightiness of GOD; (which is of it self Incomprehensible,) for that very Reason that our Mind cannot comprehend them.

The most dangerous Effect then produc'd by the Ignorance of, or rather Inadvertency to the Limitation and Weakness of an Humane Mind;III. And especially of Heresies. and consequently to its Incapacity of comprehending what any ways belongs to Infinity; is Heresie. There are to be seen, if I mistake not, in these days above any other, a great many Men, who form a peculiar Theology to themselves; which has no other Foundation than their own Mind, and the Natural Weakness of their Reason; because even in Subjects, not under the Jurisdiction of Reason, they will not believe what they cannot comprehend.

The Socinians cannot comprehend the Mysteries of the Trinity and Incarnation: And this suffices not only to their dis-believing it, but also to their Affirming of those that Believe it, in an Arrogant and a Libertine way, that they are born to Slavery. A Calvinist can't conceive how 'tis possible for the Body of JESVS CHRIST, to be really present in the Sacrament of the Altar, at the same time he is in Heaven; and hence he thinks he has sufficient Reason to conclude it impossible, as if he perfectly comprehended how far the Power of GOD could go.

So a Man that's convinc'd of his own Liberty, if he falls to work, and heats his Head in endeavouring to reconcile the Fore-knowledge of GOD, and his Decrees with Liberty, will possibly fall into the Error of those, who do not believe that Man is a free Agent. For being unable on one hand to conceive how the Providence and Fore-knowledge of GOD can be compatible with the Liberty of Man; and on the other, his respect for Religion, forbidding him to deny a Providence, he will think himself oblig'd to cashire Men of their Freedom; or not making sufficient Reflection on the Weakness of his Mind, will fancy he is able to fathom the Mysterious ways GOD has of reconciling his Decrees with our Liberty.

But Hereticks are not the only Men who want Attention to consider the Weakness of their Mind, and that give it too much Scope and Liberty of Judging of things, which it cannot attain to: This being the fault of most Men, especially of some Divines of the later Ages. For we may perhaps reasonably say, that some of them so frequently imploying Humane Reasoning, to prove or explain the mysteries above Reason, though it may be done with good Intention, and for the Defence of Religion against Hereticks; give frequent occasion to the same Hereticks of adhering obstinately to their Errors, and treating the mysteries of Faith as Humane Opinions.

The Working and Agitation of the Mind, and the Subtilties of the School, are no fit means to make Men sensible of their own Weakness, and to inspire them with that Spirit of Submission requisite to make them humbly resign to the Decisions of the Church. On the contrary, these Subtil and Humane Reasonings, may kindle a secret Pride in their Heart, and dispose them to imploy their Mind to evil purpose, by framing a Religion suitable to its Capacity. And so far are we from seeing Hereticks convinc'd by Philosophic Arguments, and the Reading of Books purely Scholastical, so as to acknowledge and condemn their Errors; that on the contrary, we find them daily taking constant occasion from the Weakness of some School-men's Arguings, to turn the most Sacred mysteries of our Religion into Jest and Raillery; which indeed are not establish'd [Page] on any Reason, and Explications of Humane Derivation, but only on Authority of the Word of GOD, written or unwritten, that is transmitted down to us by way of Tradition.

And indeed 'tis impossible for Humane Reason to make us comprehend, how one GOD is in Three Persons: How the Body of our LORD can be really present in the Eucharist; and how 'tis consistent for Man to be free, whilst GOD knows from all Eternity all that Man shall do. The Reasons that are brought to prove and explain these things are such for the generality, as convince none but those who are willing to admit them without Examination; but look ridiculous and extravagant to Men minded to oppugn them, and that are not settled in the Belief of the Foundation of these mysteries. Nay, it may be said, that the Objections that are form'd against the Principal Articles of our Faith, and especially against the mysteries of the TRINITY, are so strong, as cannot possiby admit of any clear, evident, and satisfactory Solution; such I mean, as one way or other does not shock our weak and staggering Reason: These mysteries being, in truth, incomprehensible.

The best way of converting Hereticks, is not then to accustom them to the Exercise of Reason, by urging to them only uncertain Arguments, deduc'd from Philosophy; because the Truths we would instruct them in, come not under the Scrutinity of Reason. Nor is it always convenient, to use Argument in Truths, that can be made out by Reason, as well as Tradition, as the Immortality of the Soul, Original Sin, the necessity of Grace, the corruption of Nature, and some others; for fear least the Mind having once tasted the Evidence of Argument, upon these Questions, will not acquiesce in those which are only prov'd by Tradition. On the other hand, they should be taught to quit their own Reason, by making them sensible of its Weakness, its Limitation, and its Disproportion to our mysteries; and when the Pride of their mind shall be humbled and brought down, it will be easie to introduce them into the Sentiments of the Church; by representing to them her Authority, or explaining to them the Tradition of all Ages, if they are capable of understanding it.

But whilst men are continually calling of their Sight, from the Weakness and Limitation of their Mind, their Courage will be puffed up with an indiscreet Presumption; they will be dazled by an abusive Light, and blinded with the love of Glory; and so Hereticks will be continually Hereticks: Philosophers obstinate and opinionated: And Men will never leave disputing on all things they can dispute on, as long as Disputation pleases them.

CHAP. III.

I. The Philosophers dissipate or dissolve the force of their Mind, by applying it to Subjects, including too many Relations, and depending on too many things; and by observing no Method in their Studies. II. An Instance taken from Aristotle. III. That Geometricians on the contrary take a good Method in the Search of Truth: Especially those who make use of Algebra, and Analyticks. IV. That their Method increases the strength of the Mind, and that Aristotle's Logick lessens it. V. Another Fault of Learned Men.

MEN not only involve themselves in a multitude of Errors,I. That the Philosophers want order in their Studies. by being busied with Questions, partaking of Infinity, whilst their Mind is Finite; but by over-matching their Mind which is but of a narrow Reach, with those of a vast Comprehension.

It has been already said, That as a piece of Wax was incapable of receiving many perfect and very distinct Figures, so the Mind was incapable of receiving many distinct Idea's; that is, of perceiving many things distinctly at the same time. Whence 'tis easie to conclude, that we should not apply our selves at first to the finding out occult Truths, the Knowledge whereof depends on too many things, some of which are unknown to us, or not so familiar as they should be: For we ought to study with order, and make what we know distinctly, serviceable to the Learning we know not, or what we know but confusedly. And yet the most part of those, who take to any Study, trouble not themselves so much: They never make trial of their forces, nor enter into themselves to try how far the reach of their Mind will go: 'Tis a secret Vanity, and a disorderly Desire of Knowledge, and not Reason, which regulates their Studies: For without consulting their Reason, they undertake the fathoming the most hidden and inscrutable Truths, and the resolving Questions, which depend on such a multitude Relations, that the most quick and piercing Mind would, to the discovering their Truth with an absolute Certainty, require several Ages, and infinite Experiments to build upon.

In Medicine and Morality, there are a vast many Questions of this nature; all the Sciences of Bodies and their Qualities; as of Animals, Plants, Mettals, and their Properties, are such Sciences as can never be made sufficiently evident, or certain; especially unless they are cultivated in in another manner, than has been done; and the most simple and least compos'd, are began with, [Page] on which those other depend. But Men of study care not to be at the pains of a methodical Philosophy: They are not agreed about the certainty of the Principles of Physics: They frankly confess they know not the Nature of Bodies in general, nor their Qualities. And yet they fancy themselves able, for instance, to account for Old Men's Hairs growing White, and their Teeth becoming Black, and such like Questions, which depend on so many Causes, as 'tis impossible to give any infallible Reason of them. For to this, 'tis necessary to know, wherein truly consists the Whiteness of Hairs in particular; the Humours they are fed with; the Strainers which are in the Body, to let these Humours through; the Conformation of the Root of the Hairs, or of the Skin they pass through; and the difference of all these things, in a Young Man, and an Old; which is absolutely impossible, or at least extreamly difficult to be known.

Aristotle, for instance, has pretended not to be ignorant of that adventitious Whiteness in the Hairs of Old Men;II. An Instance of the want of order in Aristotle. and has given several Reasons for it in several places of his Books. But being the Genius of Nature, he has not stopt there; but penetrated much farther. He has moreover discover'd, that the Cause which turn'd Old Men's Hairs white, was the self-same with that which made some Men, and some Horses, have one Eye Blue, and the other of another Colour. These are his Words:Lib. 5. de generatione Anim. c. 1. [...]. This is very surprizing, but there is nothing un-intelligible to this Great Man; who gives Reasons for such a vast number of things, in almost all parts of his Physics, as the most enlightned Men of this Age believe impenetrable; which must needs give good grounds for an Author's saying, He was given us by GOD, that we might be ignorant of nothing possible to be known: Aristotelis est SVMMAVERITAS, quoniam ejus Intellectus fuit finis humani intellectûs. Quare bene dicitur de illo, quod ipse fuit creatus, & datus nobis divinâ Providentiâ, ut non ignoremus possibilia sciri. Averroês ought too to have said, That Aristotle was given us by Divine Providence, for the understanding what was impossible to be understood. For certainly, that Philosopher teaches us, not only the things that may be known, but (since we must believe him on his word, his Doctrine being the Soveraign Truth, SVMMAVERITAS) he teaches us likewise those things, which 'tis impossible to know.

Undoubtedly a Man must have a strong Faith, thus to believe Aristotle, when he only gives us Logical Reasons; and explains the Effects of Nature, by the confus'd Notions of the Senses; especially when he positively determines upon Questions, which we cannot see possible for Men ever to resolve. Yet Aristotle takes particular care of admonishing us to believe him on his word: it being an uncontroverted Axiom, with this Author, That a Disciple is to believe: [...].

True; sometimes Disciples are oblig'd to believe their Masters: But their Faith should reach no farther than to Experiments, and matters of Fact. For, would they become true Philosophers, they ought to examine their Master's Reasons, and never receive them till they had discover'd their Evidence by their own. But to become a Peripatetic Philosopher, there is no more requisite, than to believe, and to remember: The same Disposition of Mind going to the reading that Philosophy, as to the reading of an History. For should a Man take the freedom of using his Mind and his Reason, he must not expect to grow any considerable Philosopher. [...].

But the Reason why Aristotle, and a great many other Philosophers have pretended to know, what can never be known, is their not well distinguishing the difference betwixt knowing, and knowing; betwixt having a Certain and Evident Knowledge, and only a Probable and Obscure: And the Reason of their not having observ'd that Distinction, is their being taken up always with subjects of a greater Reach and Comprehension, than their own Mind; so that they have usually seen only some parts thereof, without being able to take them all in together; which suffices to the Discovery of many Probabilities, but not for the evident Discovery of Truth. Besides which, Vanity, being the Motive to their seeking Science, and Probabilities making more for their Esteem among Men, than Truth it self, as being more proportion'd to the ordinary stature and ability of the Mind; they neglected to search for the necessary means of augmenting its Capacity, and giving it a greater Growth and Comprehension; for which reason they have not been able to go to the bottom of Truths that lay any thing deep and conceal'd.

III. That Geometricians take a good Method in search of Truth.The Geometricians only have well discover'd the narrow Capacity of the Mind; at least have taken such a Method in their Studies, as shews they have a perfect Knowledge of it; especially those who use Algebra and Analytics; which Vieta and Des-Cartes have re-establish'd and perfected in this Age. Which is herein apparent, that these Men never attempted the Resolution of Difficulties very Compound, till after having most clearly known the more Simple, which they depend on; they never fix'd to the consideration of Crooked Lines, as of Conick Sections, till they we perfect Masters of common Geometry. But what is peculiar to the Analysts, is that, seeing their Mind incapable of Attention to many Figures at once,IV. That their Method increases▪ the strength of the Mind, and that Aristotle's Logick diminishes it. and unable to imagine Solids of more than three Dimensions, though there were frequent necessity of conceiving such as had more; they made use of common Letters, that are very familiar to us, to express and abridge their Idea's. And thus the Mind being not confounded, or taken up with the Representation, it would be oblig'd to make, of a great many Figures, and an infinite number of Lines, can survey at a single view, what otherwise was impossible to be seen: Forasmuch as the Mind can launch out farther, and penetrate into a great many more things, when its Capacity is manag'd to the best advantage.

[Page]So that all the Skill and Artifice there is in making the Mind deeper-sighted, and more comprehensive, consists, as shall be explain'd in another place, in a dexterous management of its Strength and Capacity;Book 6, in the 1st Part concerning Method. and in not laying it out impertinently on things not necessary to the discovery of the Truth it is in search of: Which is a thing well worthy to be observ'd. For this one thing makes it evident, that the ordinary Logicks are more proper, to straiten the Capacity of the Mind, than enlarge it; it being visible, that by imploying the Rules they give in the finding out any Truth, the Capacity of the Mind must be taken up with them; and so it must have the less Liberty for attending to, and comprehending the whole extent of the subject it examines.

'Tis manifest enough then, from what hath been said, that most Men have made but little Reflection on the Nature of the Mind, when they would imploy it in The Search of Truth; that they have not been throughly convinc'd of its little Extent, and the necessity there is of Husbanding it well, and increasing it; and that this is one of the most considerable Causes of their Errors, and of their so ill success in their Studies.

This is not said with Presumption, that there were ever any who knew not their Mind was limited, and straitned in its Capacity and Comprehension. This doubtless has been known, and is still confess'd by all the World. But the generality know it only confusedly, and confess it no farther than Teeth-outwards: For the conduct they take in their Studies, gives the Lye to their Confession; since they act as if they truly believ'd their Mind was Infinite; and are desirous of diving into things which depend on a great many Causes, whereof they commonly know not any one.

There is still another Failing, very customary with Studious Men; and that is their applying to too many Sciences at once; so that if they study six hours a day,V. Another Fault of Learned Men. they sometimes study six different things. 'Tis visible, that this fault proceeds from the same Cause as the others I have been speaking of. For there is great probability, that if those, who studied in this manner, knew evidently how disproportion'd it was to the Capacity of their Mind; and that it was more apt to fill it with Error and Confusion, than with true Science; they would not let themselves be transported with the disorderly motives of their Passion and Vanity: For indeed this is not the way to be satisfy'd in our pursuits, but the most ready means to know nothing at all.

CHAP. IV.

I. The Mind cannot dwell long upon Objects that have no Relation to it, or that include not something of Infinity in them. II. The Inconstancy of the Will, is the Cause of that want of Application, and consequently of Error. III. Our Sensations take us up more, than the Pure Idea's of the Mind: IV. Which is the Source of the Corruption of our Morals: V. And of the Ignorance of the Vulgar sort of Men.

THE Mind of Man is not only subject to Error, for want of being Infinite,I. The Mind cannot dwell long upon Objects that have no Relation, or that include not something of Infinity in them. or for being of less Extent than the Objects of its Consideration; as has been explain'd in the two last Chapters: But because it is Inconstant, and nothing Resolute in its Action; and unable to keep the View fixt and steady on the Object, long enough to examine all the parts of it.

The better to conceive the Cause of this Inconstancy and Levity of the Mind, we must know that the Will is the Directress of its Action; that the Will applies it to the Objects which it loves; and that the same Will is it self in perpetual fluctuation and disquietude, whereof I assign this to be the Cause.

'Tis not to be doubted but GOD is the Author of all things, and has made them only for Himself, and that he draws the Heart of Man towards him, by a Natural and Invincible Impression, which he perpetually influences him withal.

'Tis impossible for GOD to have will'd that there should be any Will that did not love Him, or that lov'd Him less than any other Good, if there could be any other besides Himself; it being impossible for Him to ordain, that a Will should not love that which was supreamly Amiable, or should love that more which was less lovely. And thus Natural Love must needs carry us to GOD, as proceeding from GOD, and nothing being able to stop the motions thereof, unless GOD Himself that impresses them. There is then no Will whatever, but necessarily follows the motions of this Love. The Righteous and the Wicked, the Blessed and the Damned, love GOD with this Love; and 'tis this Love, in one sense, that is the Cause of the Misery of the latter. For this Natural Love we have for GOD, being the same thing with the Natural Impression, which carries us towards Good in general, towards Infinite Soveraign Good; 'tis manifest that all Minds love GOD with this Love, since there is no other that is the Universal, the Infinite, the Soveraign Good. For, lastly, All Spirits, and even the Divels, passionately desire to be Happy, [Page] and to possess the Soveraign Good; and they desire it without Choice, Deliberation, and Liberty, by the bent and necessity of their Nature. Being therefore made for GOD, for an Infinite Good; for a Good that comprehends in Himself all Goods, the Natural Motion of our Heart can never stop, till we arrive to the possession of this Good.

The Will then labouring thus with a perpetual thirst, being toss'd and agitated with Desires, Eagerness,II. The Inconstancy of the Will is the Cause of that want of Application, and consequently of Error. and Restless longings for that Good it is not in Possession of, cannot but with much Uneasiness suffer the Mind to dwell any time upon Abstract Truths, which don't affect it, and which it judges incapable of making it Happy. It therefore pushes the Mind forward continually to the Research of other Objects; and when in this hurry and agitation, communicated to it by the Will, it meets with any Object that carries the Mark of Good, I mean that by approaching the Soul, makes it sensible of some internal Delight or Satisfaction, then this Thirst of the Heart rises anew; these Desires, Eagernesses, and Fervencies are re-kindled; and the Mind oblig'd to wait on them, fixes it self only on the Object that either is or seems to be the cause of them, to approximate it to the Soul, that regales and feeds upon it for some time. But the Emptiness of the Creatures, being unable to fill the Infinite Capacity of the Heart of Man; these little Pleasures, instead of extinguishing its Thirst, only provoke and inflame it, and give the Soul a foolish and vain Hope of being satisfy'd in the multiplicity of Earthly Pleasures; which produces a far greater Inconstancy, and an inconceivable Levity in the Mind, which ought to make the Discovery to the Soul of all these Goods.

It's true, when the Mind falls by chance upon an Object of an Infinite Nature, or which includes something great and mighty in it, its unsettledness and casting about ceases for some time: For finding that this Object bears the badge and character of that which the Soul desires, it dwells upon it, and closes in with it for a considerable time: But this closing and adhesion, or rather obstinacy of the Mind; to examine Subjects infinite, or too vast and unweildy, is as useless to it, as that Levity, wherewith it considers those that are proportion'd to its Capacity; since 'tis too weak to accomplish so difficult an Enterprise, and in vain it endeavours to effect it: That which must render the Soul happy, is not, as I may speak, the Comprehension of an Infinite Object (this she is not capable of) but the Love and Fruition of an Infinite Good, whereof the Will is capable, through the Motion of Love, continually impress'd on it by GOD Himself.

Which being thus, we need not wonder at the Ignorance and Blindness of Mankind; because their Mind being subjected to the Inconstancy and Levity of their Heart, which incapacitate it from considering any thing with a serious Application, is unable to penetrate into a subject any whit perplex'd, and difficult. For, in short, the Attention of the Mind is to intelligible Objects, what a steady View of the Eyes is to those of Sight: And as a Man that can't fix his Eyes on the Bodies that are about him, can never see them well enough to distinguish the differences of their least parts, and to discover all the Relations those little parts have to one another: So a Man who cannot fix the Eye of his Mind upon the things desir'd to be known, can never have a sufficient Knowledge to distinguish all the parts; and to observe all the Relations that may possibly be between themselves, or themselves and other subjects.

Yet it is certain that all our Knowledge consists in a clear View of the Relations things stand in to one another. So that when it happens, as in difficult Questions, that the Mind must survey at one sight a multiplicity of Relations, that are between two things or more, it is plain, that if it has not consider'd these things very attentively, or if it has but a confus'd Knowledge of them, it can never have a distinct Perception of their Relation, and consequently cannot make any solid Judgment of them.

III. Our Sensations take us up, more than the Pure Idea's of the Mind.One of the main Causes of our Mind's wanting Application for Abstract Truths, is our seeing them as at a Distance, whilst other things are continually offering themselves to the Mind, that are nearer at hand: The great Attention of the Mind, brings home, as I may say, the remote Idea's of the Objects we consider. But it often falls out, that when a Man is very intent on Metaphysical Speculation, he is easily thrown off from them, by some accidental Sensations breaking in upon the Soul, which sit closer to it than those Idea's: For there needs no more than a little Pleasure or Pain to do it. The Reason whereof is, that Pleasure and Pain, and all Sensations in general,See the 7th Chap. of the Second Part of this Book. are within the very Soul: They modifie her, and touch her more to the quick, than the simple Idea's of Objects of Pure Intellection, which though present to the Mind, neither touch nor modifie it at all. And thus the Mind on one hand, being of a straitned and narrow reach, and on the other, unable to prevent feeling Pain, and all its other Sensations, has its Capacity fill'd up with them; and so cannot at one and the same time, be sensible of any thing, and think freely of other Objects that are not sensible: The Humming of a Fly, or of any other little Animal, supposing it communicated to the principal part of the Brain, and perceiv'd by the Soul, is capable (do what we can) of interrupting our Consideration of very Abstract and Sublime Truths; because no Abstract Idea's modifie the Soul; whereas all Sensations do.

IV. Which is the Source of the Corruption of our Morals.From hence arises that Stupidity and Drousiness of the Mind, in regard of the most Fundamental Truths of Christian Morality; which Men know only in a Speculative and Fruitless manner, without the Grace of JESVS CHRIST. All the World knows there is a GOD, and that this GOD is to be serv'd and worshipp'd. But who is it, that serves and worships him without the Divine Grace, which alone gives us a relish of Delight and Pleasure, in these Duties? There are but very few that do not perceive the Emptiness, and Inconstancy of Earthly Goods, and that are not convinc'd with an Abstract, though most certain and evident Conviction, that they are indeserving of our Cares and Application. But where are those, who despise these [Page] Goods in their Practice, and deny their Pains and Application to acquire them? 'Tis only they that perceive some Bitterness and Distaste in the Injoyment of them, or that Grace has made sensible to Spiritual Goods, by an inward Delectation, affix'd to them by GOD; 'tis these only who vanquish the Impressions of Sense and the Strugglings of Concupiscence: A View of the Mind alone can never make us resist them as we should do; but besides that View, there must be a certain Sensation of the Heart: That Intellectual Light all alone is, if you please, the Sufficient Grace, which makes only for our Condemnation, which acquaints us with our own Weakness, and of our Duty of flying by Prayer to Him, who is our Strength: But the Sensation of the Heart, is a Lively and Operative Grace. 'Tis this which touches us inward, which fills us, and perswades the Heart, and without it there is no body that considers with the Heart: Nemo est qui recogitet corde. All the most certain Truths of Morality lye conceal'd in the folds and doubles, and secret corners of the Mind, and as long as they continue there, are barren and inactive; since the Soul has no relish of them: But the Pleasures of the Senses dwell nearer to the Soul; and since she cannot be insensible to, or out of love with Namely a Natural Love; for we cannot hate Pleasure by an Elective Hatred. her Pleasure, 'tis impossible to disengage her self from the Earth, and to Because Elective Love cannot be long without conforming to Natural Love. get rid of the Charms and Delusions of her Senses, by her own Strength and Abilities.

I deny not however but the Righteous, whose Heart has been already vigorously turn'd towards GOD, by a preventing Delectation, may without that particular Grace perform some Meritorious Actions, and resist the Motions of Concupiscence. There are those who are couragious and constant in the Law of GOD, by the strength of their Faith, by the care they have to deprive themselves of Sensible Goods; and by the contempt and dislike of every thing that can give them any temptation: There are such as act for the most part without the taste of Indeliberate or Preventing Pleasure: That sole Joy, they find in acting according to the Will of GOD, is the only Pleasure they taste; and that Pleasure suffices to make them persevere in their state, and to confirm the Disposition of their Heart: Those who are Novice Converts, have generally need of an Indeliberate, or Preventing Pleasure, to disintangle them from Sensible Goods, to which they are fastened by other Preventing, and Indeliberate Pleasures. Sorrow and Remorse of their Consciences, are not sufficient for this purpose; and as yet they taste no Joy: But the Just can live by Faith, and that in Indigence; and 'tis likewise in this Estate they merit most: Forasmuch as Men being Reasonable Creatures, GOD will be lov'd by them with a Love of Choice, and not with a Love of Instinct, or an Indeliberate Love, like that wherewith we love Sensible things, without knowing they be Good, otherwise than from the Pleasure we receive in them. Notwithstanding, most Men having but little Faith, and yet constant opportunities of tasting Pleasures, cannot long preserve their Elective Love for GOD, against their Natural Love for sensible Goods, unless the Delectation of Grace support them against the Efforts of Pleasure. For the Delectation of Grace produces, preserves, and augments Charity, as Sensible Pleasures Cupidity.

It is apparent enough from what has been said, that Men being never free from some Passion, or some pleasant or troublesome Sensations, have their Capacity and Extent of Mind much taken up; and when they would imploy the remainder of its Capacity in examining any Truth, they are frequently diverted by some new Sensations; through the dislike they take to that Exercise, and the Inconstancy of the Will, which tosses and bandies the Mind from Object to Object, without letting it stand still. So that unless we have habituated our selves from our Youth to the conquering all these Oppositions, as I have explain'd in the Second Part, we find our selves at last incapable of piercing into any thing that's somewhat difficult, and demands something of Application.

Hence we are to conclude, That all Sciences, and especially such as include Questions very hard to be clear'd up, and explain'd, abound with an infinite number of Errors: And that we ought to have in suspicion those bulky Volumes we see daily compos'd on Medicine, Physics, and Morality; and especially on the particular Questions of those Sciences, which are much more complex than the general. We should judge too these Books to have so much less worth in them, as they are better entertain'd by the common sort of Men; I mean those, who are little capable of Application, and know not how to set their Mind to work; because when an Opinion is cry'd up, and applauded by the People, in a matter difficult to be made out, 'tis an infallible sign of its being false, and founded only on the delusive Notions of Sense, or some false Lights of the Imagination.

Nevertheless 'tis not impossible for one Man to discover a great number of Truths, that were conceal'd from Ages past; supposing this Person to have no lack of Parts, and who being in Retirement; as remote as possible from every thing that might distract his Thoughts, applies himself seriously to the seeking Truth: Which makes those appear none of the most reasonable Men, who despise Mr. Des-Cartes's Philosophy, without knowing it; for this only Reason, that it seems next to impossible for a single Man; to have found out Truth, in things so deep and conceal'd as those of Nature. But did they know the way of Life, that Philosopher chose; the means he imploy'd in his Studies to prevent the Capacity his Mind's being shar'd by other Objects, than those he meant to discover the Truth of: The distinctness of his Idea's on which he establish'd his Philosophy: And generally all the advantages he had above the Ancients, by the New Discoveries; they would certainly receive a more strong and reasonable Prejudice on his behalf, than that of Antiquity, which gives Plato, Aristotle, and diverse others their Authority.

[Page]And yet I would not advise them to ground only on this Prejudice, and to believe Mr. Des-Cartes a Great Man, and his Philosophy good, because of those advantagious things that may be said for it. Monsieur Des-Cartes was a Man like us, subject to Error and Illusion, no less than others. Not any one of his Works, without even excepting his Geometry, but bears the Character and Earnest of the weakness of an Humane Mind. Wherefore we ought not to take his word for what he teaches; but read him according to his own Advice, with Precaution, by examining whether he is not deceiv'd, and believing nothing that he says, without being oblig'd to it by its own Evidence, and the secret Reproofs of our Reason. For, in a word, the Mind knows nothing truly, but what it evidently perceives.

We have shewn in the preceding Chapters that our Mind is not infinite, that it is, on the contrary, of but a very indifferent Capacity; and has that Capacity usually fill'd with the Sensations of the Soul: And, lastly, that the Mind receiving its direction from the Will, cannot steadily fix its view upon any Object, without being suddenly thrown off by the Will's Fluctuation and Inconstancy. 'Tis most certain that these things are the most general Causes of our Errors; and I might stay here to make them more evident in particular: But what has been already said, will be enough, with such as are capable of Attention, to give them to understand the weakness of the Humane Mind; I shall treat more at large in the Fourth and Fifth Book, of the Errors that are owing to our Natural Inclinations, and our Passions; of which we have now said something in this Chapter.

The SECOND PART: Concerning The Pure UNDERSTANDING. Of the NATURE of IDEA'S.

CHAP. I.

I. What is meant by Idea's. That they really exist, and are necessary to our Perceiving all material Objects. II. A Particularization of all the ways possible for us to perceive External Objects.

I Suppose that every one will grant, that we perceive not the Objects that are without us immediately, I. What is meant by Idea's. That they really exist, and are necessary to our Perceiving all material Objects. and of themselves. We see the Sun, the Stars, and infinite other Objects without us; and it is not probable that the Soul goes out of the Body, and fetches a walk, as I may say, about the Heavens to contemplate all the Objects therein.

It sees them not therefore by themselves; and the immediate Object of the Mind, when it beholds the Sun, for example, is not the Sun, but something intimately united to the Soul; and the same thing which I call an Idea. So that by the Term Idea, I mean nothing but that Object which is immediate, or next to the Soul in its Perception of any thing.

It ought to be well observ'd, That in order to the Mind's perceiving any Object, it is absolutely necessary the Idea of that Object be actually present to it; which is so certain as not possible to be doubted of. But it is not necessary there should be any thing without like to that Idea: For it often happens that we perceive things which don't exist, and which never were in Nature. And so a Man has frequently in his Mind real Idea's of things that never were. When a Man, for Instance, imagines a golden Mountain, it is indispensibly necessary the Idea of that Mountain should be really present to his Mind. When a Frantick, or a Man in a Fever, or Asleep, sees some terrible Animal before his Eyes; it is certain that the Idea of that Animal really exists. And yet that Mountain of Gold and this Animal, never were in Being.

Notwithstanding, Men being as it were naturally inclin'd to believe that none but Corporeal Objects exist, judge of the Reallity and Existence of things quite otherwise than they ought. For when they perceive an Object by way of Sense, they would have it most infallibly to exist, tho' it often happens, that there is nothing of it without; they will have moreover this Object to be just the same as they perceive it; which yet never happens. But as for the Idea which necessarily exists, and cannot be otherwise than we see it, they commonly judge without Reflection, that it is nothing at all; as if Idea's had not a vast number of Properties (as that the Idea of a square, for instance, were not very different from that of any Number) and did not represent quite different things. Which is not consistent with Nothing, since Nothing has no Property. [Page] 'Tis therefore undoubtedly certain, that Idea's have a most real Existence. But let us enquire into their Nature, and their Essence; and see what there is in our Soul capable of making to her the Representations of all things.

Whatever things the Soul perceives, are only of two sorts; and are either within or without the Soul. Those that are within the Soul, are her own proper Thoughts; that is, all her different Modifications: For by the words, Thought, Manner of Thinking or Modification of the Soul, I mean all those things in general, which cannot be in the Soul, without her perceiving them; such are her own Sensations, her Imaginations, her Pure Intellections, or simply her Conceptions, as also her Passions, and Natural Inclinations. Now our Soul has no need of Idea's to perceive all these things, because they are within the Soul, or rather because they are the very Soul it self, in such or such a manner; just as the real Rotundity of any Body and its Motion, are nothing but the Body figured and translated, after such or such a sort.

But as to the things without the Soul, we can have no perception of them, but by the means of Idea's, upon supposition that these things cannot be intimately united to it; and they are of two sorts, Spiritual and Material: As to the Spiritual, there is some probability they may be discover'd to the Soul without Idea's, immediately by themselves. For though Experience certifies us, that we cannot by an immediate Communication declare our Thoughts to one another, but only by words, and other sensible Signs, whereunto we have annex'd our Idea's; yet we may say that GOD has ordain'd this kind of Oeconomy, only for the time of this Life, to prevent the Disorders that might at present happen, if Men should understand one another as they pleas'd. But when Justice and Order shall reign, and we shall be delivered from the Captivity of our Body, we shall possibly communicate our Thoughts by the intimate union of our selves, as 'tis probable the Angels may do in Heaven. So that there seems to be no absolute necessity of Idea's, for the representing things of a Spiritual Nature, since 'tis possible for them to be seen by themselves, though in a very dark, and imperfect manner.

I enquire not here how two Spirits can be united to one another, This Paragraph is in Italick, because it may be passed over as being difficult to be understood, unless a Man know what I think of the Soul, and of the Nature of Idea's. or whether by that means they can open inwards, and make a mutual Discovery of their Thoughts. I believe however, there is no Substance purely Intelligible, except that of GOD; and that nothing can be evidently discovered but in his Light, and that the Vnion of Spirits cannot make them visible. For though we be most intimately united with our selves, we both are, and shall be unintelligible to our selves, until we see our selves in GOD, and he shall present to us, in our selves, the perfectly intelligible Idea, which he has of our Being, included in his own. And thus though I seem to grant that Angels may manifest to each other, both what they are, and what they think; I must advertise, that I do it only because I have no mind to dispute it; provided it shall be granted me, what can't be controverted, namely, That we cannot discern material things by themselves, and without Idea's.

I will explain in the Seventh Chapter, what my Notion is of the way whereby we know Spirits; and I will make it appear, that we cannot at present entirely know them by themselves, though they may possibly be united to us. But I discourse in this place chiefly of material Things, which certainly are incapable of such a manner of Union with our Soul, as is necessary to make them perceiv'd; for that, they being extended, and the Soul not, there is no proportion betwixt them. And besides, our Souls never depart from our Bodies, to measure the Greatness of the Heavens, and consequently cannot see the Bodies that are without, otherwise than by the Idea's that represent them. And this is what all the World must agree to.

We affirm then, that it is absolutely necessary that the Idea's we have of Bodies, and of all other Objects we perceive not immediately by themselves, proceed from these same Bodies,II. A Particularization▪ of all the ways possible for us to perceiv [...] External Objects. or these Objects, or else that our Soul has the power of producing these Idea's; or that GOD produc'd them together with her in the Creation; or that he produces them as often as we think of any Object; or that the Soul has in her self all the Perfections which she discovers in these Bodies; or lastly, is united with an All-perfect Being, who comprehends universally in himself all the Perfections of Created Beings.

There is no perceiving of Objects, but by one of these ways: Let us examine without Prepossession which seems the probable'st of all, and not be disheartned at the difficulty of the Question: It may be we shall give a Resolution clear enough, though we pretend not to give incontested Demonstrations for all sorts of Persons; but only most convincing Proofs to such as with thoughtful Attention shall consider them: For it probably would look like Rashness and Presumption, to talk in a more positive manner.

CHAP. II.

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That Material Objects emit not Species which resemble them.

THE most common Opinion is that of the Peripatetics, who pretend, That External Objects send forth Species, which are like them; and that these Species are convey'd by the External Senses as far as the Commune Sensorium. They call these the Species Impressae, because imprinted by Objects on the outward Senses. These Impress'd Species being Material and Sensible are made Intelligible by the Intellectus Agens, and are fit to be receiv'd in the Intellectus Patiens: These Species thus Spiritualiz'd, are term'd Expressae, as being express'd from the impress'd: And by these it is that the Patient Intellect knows all Material things.

I shall not stand to finish the Explication of these Notable things, and of the diverse ways Philosophers have of conceiving them. For though they be not agreed about the number of the Faculties which they attribute to the Internal Sense and Understanding, and there are also many that are very dubious, whether they have any need of the Agent Intellect for the knowing Sensible Objects; yet they almost universally agree in the Emission of the Species, or Images resembling the Objects they proceed from: And 'tis only on this Foundation they multiply their Faculties, and defend their Active Intellect. So that this Foundation, having no solidity, as will be seen by and by, there is no necessity of standing to overthrow all the Superstructures they have built upon it.

I maintain then, it is not probable that Objects should send out Species or Images in their own likeness; and these are my Reasons for it. The first is taken from the Impenetrability of Bodies. All Objects, as the Sun, the Stars, as well as those that are near our Eyes, cannot emit Species of a different Nature from themselves: and for this Reason 'tis usually said by the Philosophers, that these Species are gross and material, to distinguish them from the express'd Species, which are spiritualiz'd: These Impress'd Species of Objects are therefore little Bodies. They cannot then penetrate each other, nor all the spaces betwixt Heaven and Earth, which must needs be fill'd with them. From whence 'tis easie to conclude, that they must needs bruise, and batter one another, some coming one way, and thwarting others coming another; and so 'tis impossible they should render Objects visible.

Again, it is possible for one standing on one Point, to see a great number of Objects which are in the Heaven, and on the Earth. There is then a necessity that the Species of all these Bodies be reduc'd into a Point. But they are Impenetrable, since they are extended, Ergo, &c.

But we not only can see from one end of the same Point, abundance of most large, and even immense Objects: There is moreover not any Point in all these great Spaces of the World, from whence we cannot discover an almost inexhaustible number of Objects, and even Objects as big as the Sun, the Moon, and Heavens. There is not then any Point in the great Circumference of the World, wherein the Species of all these things ought not to center, which is contradictory to all appearance of Truth.

If a Man has a mind to know how all the Impressions of Visible Objects, tho' oppos'd, can be communicated without weakning, let him read Mr. Des-Cartes's Dioptrics.The second Reason is taken from the Change these Species undergo. It is certain the nearer an Object is, the greater the Species ought to be, since we see the Object greater. Now we cannot see what 'tis that can lessen this Species, and what become of the Parts that compos'd it, when it was greater. But that which is still more difficult to conceive, according to their Notion, is, how in beholding an Object with Magnifying-glasses, or a Microscope, the Species grows on a suddain, five or six hundred times bigger than it was before; for 'tis still harder to be seen from what adventitious Parts it can increase so mightily in an instant.

The third Reason is, that in looking on a perfect Cube, all the Species of its faces are unequal, and yet we fail not to see all its faces equally square: And so in beholding in a Picture Ovals and Parallelograms, which can only send forth Species of a similar Figure; we see notwithstanding Circles and Squares. For this makes it manifestly clear, that there is no necessity the Object we behold should produce Species like it self, in order to our seeing it.

Lastly, it is not conceivable, how it is possible for a Body, that is not sensibly exhausted, to send constantly Species from out of it self on every side; how it can continually fill with them, so very capacious Spaces all round about; and that with an incomprehensible swiftness. For an Object that lay hid, in the very instant of its Discovery, may be seen many millions of Leagues on all sides. And what seems much stranger yet▪ is, that the Bodies which have a great deal of Action, as the Air, and some others, have not force enough to extrude from them their representative Images; which the grossest and least active Bodies can do, as Earth, Stones, and almost all hard Bodies.

But I shall not spend more time in producing all the Reasons that oppugn this Opinion, because that would be an endless work; the least Essay of Thought furnishing out an inexhaustible number of them. These we have already urg'd, are enough, and even more than were necessary, after what has been said relating to this Subject, in the first Book, wh [...]n we explain'd the Errors of the Senses. But there being such a multitude of Philosophers devoted to this Opinion, I thought it necessary to say something of it, to put them upon reflecting on their own Thoughts.

CHAP. III.

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That the Soul has no Power to produce Idea's. The Cause of the Error Men are guilty of, upon this Subject.

THE second Opinion is theirs, who believe that our Souls have the Power of producing the Idea's of the things they would contemplate; and that they are mov'd to the producing them, by the impressions Objects make upon the Body; though these impressions, are not Images representative of the Objects they are caused by: They pretend it is in this, that Man is made after the Image of GOD, and participates of his Power: That as GOD has created all things out of nothing, and can annihilate them again; and thence create others wholly new; so Man has the Power of Creating and Annihilating the Idea's of all things as he pleases. But there's very good reason to suspect all these Opinions, that elevate Man so high; as being Notions which commonly derive from his vain and haughty Heart, and which the Father of Lights never vouchsafed to give him.

This Participation of the Power of GOD, which Men boast of having, whereby to represent Objects, and to do many other particular Actions, is a Participation which seems to draw in something of Independency, as 'tis ordinarily explain'd. But 'tis likewise a Chimerical Participation, which Men's Ignorance and Vanity have caus'd them to imagine: For they are under a greater Dependance on the Goodness and Mercy of GOD, than they suppose. But this is not the place to give an Explication of these things: Let us only try to make it visible, that Men have not the Power of forming the Idea's of the things they perceive.

No Man can doubt but that Idea's are real Beings, seeing they have real Properties; that they differ one from another; and that they represent quite different things. Nor can it reasonably be doubted, but they are of a Spiritual Nature, and very different from the Bodies represented by them. All which seems strong enough to raise a doubt, whether the Idea's by means whereof we perceive Bodies, are not of a nobler extract, than the Bodies themselves. And in earnest, the Intelligible World ought to be perfecter than the Material and Terrestrial, as we shall see in the process of our Discourse; and then, in affirming that Men are impower'd to frame all Idea's as they please, we incur the danger of maintaining that Men have power of making Beings more noble and more perfect, than the World which GOD has created. But this reflection never enters our Heads, by reason of our imagining an Idea to be nothing, because not obvious to the Senses; or if we look upon it as a Being, 'tis a Being so slender and contemptible, that we fancy it annihilated, as soon as absent from the Mind.

But though it should be true, that Idea's were only little, pitiful, despicable Beings; they are however Beings, and Beings Spiritual: And Men having not the Power of Creating, have not consequently the Power of Producing them. For the Production of Idea's in the manner they explain it, is a true Creation, and though they endeavour to palliate, and soften the Presumption and Harshness of this Opinion, in saying, that the Production of Idea's supposes something antecedent, and Creation supposes nothing; yet they bring no Reason to solve the Knot of the difficulty.

For it ought well to be heeded, That there is no greater difficulty in producing Something out of Nothing than in producing it, by presupposing another thing, out of which it could not be made, and which could contribute nothing to its Production. There is no greater difficulty, for instance, in the Creation of an Angel, than in the Production of an Angel from a Stone: Because a Stone being a Being of a quite opposite kind, cannot be any ways serviceable to the Production of an Angel. But it may contribute to the Production of Bread, of Gold, &c. because Stone, Gold, and Bread, are only the same Extension, of a diverse Configuration, and all these are Material things.

Nay, it is even harder to produce an Angel out of a Stone, than to produce it out of Nothing; because to the producing an Angel out of a Stone, so far as that is possible to be done, the Stone must be first Annihilated, and afterwards the Angel Created; but simply to Create an Angel, there needs no Annihilation at all. If then the Mind produces its Idea's from the Material Impressions the Brain receives from Objects, it does still the same thing, or a thing as difficult, or even difficulter, than if it Created them: Since Idea's being Spiritual, cannot be produc'd out of Material Images that are in the Brain, to which they have no Proportion or Analogy.

But some will say, That an Idea is not a Substance: Be it so; but still it is a Being, and a Being of a Spiritual kind: And as it is impossible to make a Square of a Spirit, though a Square be not a Substance; so 'tis impossible to frame a Spiritual Idea, out of a Material Substance, tho' an Idea were not a Substance.

But suppose we should allow the Mind of Man to have an absolute Power of Creating, and Annihilating the Idea's of things; yet after all; he would never imploy it to the producing them. For as a Painter, though never so excellent at his Art, could not represent an Animal he had never seen, or had no Idea of; so that the Picture he was oblig'd to make of it, would not be like that unknown Animal; so a Man could not form the Idea of an Object, unless he knew it before; that is, unless he had already the Idea of it, which has no dependance on his Will: [Page] But if he has the Idea of it already, he knows the Object; and 'tis needless to form a new one of it. 'Tis therefore needless to attribute to the Mind of Man the power of producing its Idea's.

It may perhaps be said, that the Mind has general and confus'd Idea's, which it does not produce; and that those which it produceth are particular, more clever and distinct; but it all comes to the same thing. For as a Painter could not draw the Picture of a particular Man, so as to be certify'd he had hit it right, unless he had a distinct Idea of him, and even unless the Person himself should sit; so the Mind that had only the Idea, for instance, of Being, or of an Animal in general, could not represent to it self an Horse, nor form any very distinct Idea thereof, nor be assur'd this Idea perfectly resembled an Horse, unless it had a former Idea thereof, wherewith to collate this second. Now if it had a former, it is in vain to form a second: And the Question proceeds upon that former. Therefore, &c,

It is true, that whilst we conceive a Square by pure Intellection, we may besides imagine it, that is, perceive it by drawing the Image of it in the Brain. But 'tis to be observ'd in the first place, that we are not the real and principal Cause of that Image; but it would take up too much time to explain it: And again, that the second Idea, which accompanies that Image, is so far from being more distinct and accurate than the others, that, on the contrary, it owes all its Exactness to its Resemblance with the first, which serves to regulate the second. For, in brief, it is not to be believ'd, that the Imagination, or even the Senses, make us a more distinct Representation of Objects, than the Pure Intellect; but only that they make the Mind more concern'd, and applicative: For the Idea's of Sense and Imagination, are not distinct any farther, than they are conformable with those of Pure Intellection. The Image of a Square, for instance, that the Imagination delineates in the Brain, is no otherwise just and regular, than as it conforms with the Idea of a Square, which we have by Pure Intellection. 'Tis that Idea which regulates the Image. 'Tis the Mind that conducts the Imagination, and obliges it, as I may say, to look time after time, whether the Image painted by it, be a Figure of four right and equal Lines, whose Angles are exactly right: In a word, if that which is imagin'd, be like that which is conceiv'd.Tanto meliora esse judico quae oculis cerno, quanto pro sui natura viciniora sunt iis quae animo intelligo. Aug. 6.3. de Vera Religione.

After what has been said, I suppose no body can doubt, but it is an Error, in those that affirm the Mind can form the Idea's of Objects; since they attribute to the Mind a Power of Creating, and even of Creating with Wisdom and Order, though it has no Knowledge of what it does; a thing utterly inconceivable. But the Cause of this their Error, is that customary Judgment Men make of one thing's being the Cause of another, when they are found conjoin'd together; supposing that the true Cause of this Effect be unknown to them. 'Tis for this Reason, that every one concludes, that a Bowl in motion, meeting with another, is the true and principal Cause of the motion it communicates to it; that the Will of the Soul, is the true and principal Cause of the motion of the Arm, and such like Prejudices as these; because it always happens that a Bowl is mov'd, when it lies in the way of another that knocks against it, and we move our Arms almost as often as we will it; and we do not sensibly perceive what else could be the Cause of these Motions.

But when an Effect is not so constant an attendant on any thing that's not the Cause of it, there are ever very many who believe this thing to be the Cause of the Effect that happens, though all Men fall not into this Error. A Comet, for instance, appears, and presently after a Prince goes off, &c. Stones are expos'd to the Moon, and are eaten with Worms: The Sun is in Conjunction with Mars, at the Nativity of a Child; and that Child has some Fortune extraordinary: This is Argument sufficient to perswade a great many, that the Comet, the Moon, the Conjunction of the Sun with Mars, are the Causes of the Effects I have mention'd, and of others that are like them: And the Reason why all the World is not of the same Opinion, is their Observation that the like Effects do not at all times attend these Causes.

But all Men having commonly Idea's of Objects present to their Mind, when they desire it; and this happening many times a day, very few of them but conclude, that the Will, which accompanies the Production, or rather Presence of Idea's, is the true Cause of them; because they see nothing at the same time to which they can attribute them: And they imagine that Idea's cease to exist, when out of the view of the Mind; and that they begin to exist again, when re-presented to it.

'Tis upon the same account too, that some judge that External Objects send forth Images that resemble them; so as has been said in the preceding Chapter. For it being impossible to see Objects by themselves, or any otherwise than by their Idea's, they judge that the Object produces the Idea; because when 'tis present, they see it, when absent, it disappears; and the presence of the Object, almost always is found in company with the Idea that represents it to us.

However, if Men were not rash and inconsiderate in their judgments, they ought only to conclude from the Idea's of things being present to their Mind, whenever they will have them, that according to the order of Nature, their Will is for the most part necessary to their having these Idea's, but not that the Will is the True and Principal Cause that exhibits them to the Mind, much less that the Will produces them out of nothing, or in the manner they explain it. Nor is there any more Reason for concluding, that Objects emit Species that resemble them; because the Soul has seldom any Perception of them, but when they are present; but only that the Object is for the most part necessary to the Idea's being present to the Mind. Lastly, They ought not to conclude, that the Bowl in motion, is the principal and true Cause of the motion [Page] of another, which it meets in its way; since the first has no power of moving it self. They can only judge, that the Collision of the two Bowls,See the 3d. Ch. of the 2d. Part concerning Method. is an occasion to the Author of the motion of Matter, to execute the decree of his Will; which is the universal Cause of all things, by communicating to the other Bowl a part of the motion of the first; that is, to speak more clearly, by willing that the latter should acquire as much motion as the former lost; for the impellent force of Bodies can be nothing but the Will of him that preserves them, as will be made appear in another place.

CHAP. IV.

That we perceive not Objects by means of Idea's Created with us. That GOD does not produce them in us, every moment we have need of them.

THE third Opinion is of those who pretend, That all Idea's are Created with us. For our better discovering how little likelihood there is in this Opinion, we must consider that there are in the World many quite different things, whereof we have Idea's. But to mention only simple Figures, it is certain that the number of them is infinite; and even if we fix only on an Ellipsis, 'tis not to be doubted but the Mind can conceive an infinite number of Ellipses of a different Species; inasmuch as it can conceive, that one of its Diameters may be lengthened to Infinity, the other remaining constantly the same.

So since the Height of a Triangle may be augmented or diminish'd to Infinity, the side which serves for the Base, being still the same, we conceive there may be infinite Triangles upon the same Base, of a different Species. And moreover, which I desire may be well consider'd here, the Mind in some manner perceives that infinite number, though it can imagine but a very few, and a Man cannot, at one and the same time, have particular and distinct Idea's of many Triangles of a different Species. But that which should be most especially attended to, is, that this general Idea the Mind has of an infinite number of Triangles of a different Species, is a sufficient proof, that if we cannot conceive by particular Idea's all these different Triangles; in a word, if we cannot comprehend Infinity, 'tis not for want of Idea's, or because Infinity is not present to our Mind; but meerly for want of the Mind's Capacity and Comprehension. If a Man should apply himself to the considering the Properties of all the diverse Species of Triangles, and even should eternally pursue this sort of Study, he would find new and particular Idea's, in an endless succession: But his Mind would tire under the unprofitable Disquisition.

What I have now said of Triangles, may be apply'd to Figures of five, six, an hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand sides, and so up to infinity. And if the sides of a Triangle, being capable of infinite Relations with each other, can make Triangles of infinite Species; it is easie to be seen that the Figures of Four, Five, or of a Million of sides, are capable of much greater Differences, as being subject to a far greater number of Relations and Combinations of their sides than simple Triangles.

The Mind then discerns all these things, and has Idea's of them all. And 'tis certain these Idea's will never be exhausted, though it should imploy infinite Ages in the consideration of one Figure only; and if it perceives not these infinite Figures all at once, or if it comprehend not infinity, 'tis only because its Capacity is too short and limited. It has then an infinite number of Idea's: What said I, an infinite number? It has so many infinite numbers of Idea's, as there are different Figures: Insomuch that there being an infinite number of different Figures, the Mind must have an infinity of infinite numbers of Idea's, for the Knowledge of Figures only.

Now I demand of them, Whether 'tis probable that GOD has created so many things with the Mind of Man? For my own part it can never enter into my Head, especially since it might be done in another most simple and easie manner, as we shall see by and by. For whereas GOD acts always by the most simple means, it seems unreasonable to explain our manner of knowing Objects, by admitting the Creation of an infinity of [...]eings, when the difficulty may be resolv'd in a way more easie and natural.

But what if the Mind had a Magazine of all the Idea's necessary to its Perception of things? It would be still extreamly difficult to explain, how the Soul could make choice of them, to represent Objects to her self; how, for instance, she could bring it about to perceive the Sun, when it were present to the Eyes of the Body. For since the Image, the Sun imprints in the Brain, is nothing like the Idea we have of it, as has been formerly prov'd; and since likewise the Soul perceives not the Motion the Sun produces in the Fund of the Eye, and in the Brain; it is not conceivable, how among such an infinite number of Idea's which she had, she could exactly divine which it was necessary to represent, for the imagining or seeing of the Sun. It cannot then be said, that the Idea's of things were created with us, and that this is sufficient for our perceiving the Objects that are round about us,

Nor can it be said, that GOD produces every moment so many new Idea's, as we perceive different things. This is sufficiently refuted, by what has been said in this Chapter. Besides it is [Page] necessary, we should actually have in our selves the Idea's of all things at all times, since at all times we can Will the conceiving all things. Which we could never do, unless we had already a confus'd Perception of them; that is, unless we had an infinite number of Idea's present to our Mind. For, to conclude, we cannot Will the Thinking on Objects, whereof we have no Idea.

CHAP. V.

That the Mind perceives neither the Essence nor the Existence of Objects, by considering its own Perfections. That none but GOD sees them in that manner.

THE fourth Opinion is, That the Mind stands in need of nothing, but it self, to perceive Objects; and that it may by reflecting on it self and its own Perfections, discover all things that are External to it.

It is certain that the Soul perceives in her self, and without Idea's, all the Sensations and Passions she is capable of: Pleasure, Pain, Cold, Heat, Colours, Sounds, Odours, Tasts, her Love, her Hatred, her Joy, her Sorrow, and the rest: Because all the Sensations, and Passions of the Soul, represent nothing out of her self, which resembles them, and they are only the Modifications the Mind is capable of. But the difficulty lies in knowing, whether the Idea's that represent things exteriour to the Soul, and resemble them in one manner, as the Idea's of the Sun, of an House, of an Horse, of a River, are nothing but the Modifications of the Soul: So that the Mind has no need of any thing but it self, to represent all these things that are without it.

There are those who make no scruple to affirm, That the Soul being made for Thinking, has in it self, I mean by considering its own Perfections, all that is necessary to its Perception of Objects: For being in Effect more noble than all the things it distinctly conceives, it may be said to contain them in some Eminent sort, as the Schools love to speak; that is, in a more noble and sublimated manner than they are in themselves. They pretend that superiour Beings comprehend after this manner the Perfections of the inferiour. And hereupon, being the noblest Creatures that they know, they flatter themselves with possessing in a Spiritual manner all that is in the Visible World, and with being able by diversly modifying themselves, to perceive all that the Humane Mind can attain to know. In a word, they would have the Soul to be a sort of an Intelligible World; that comprehends in it self the Material and Sensible World, and infinitely more.

But methinks 'tis a bold Stroke, to offer a Defence of this Opinion: 'Tis, if I mistake not, a Natural Vanity, the love of Independency, and the desire of resembling Him, who comprehends in Himself all Beings; that confounds the Mind, and makes us imagine our selves the Possessors of what we have not. Say not, says St. Augustin, that ye are a Light to your selves. For 'tis only GOD that is a Light to Himself,Dic quia tu tibi lumen non es. Serm. 8. de verbis Domini. and who may by considering Himself, see all that he has produc'd, and all that he is able to produce.

'Tis most certain, That there was none but GOD before the Creation of the World, and that He was not able to produce it without Knowledge, or without Idea: That consequently the Idea's which GOD had, are not different from Himself; and so all the Creatures, even the most Terrestrial and Material are in GOD, though in a manner altogether Spiritual, and to us incomprehensible.

GOD sees therefore in Himself all Beings, by Reflection made on His own Perfections that represent them to Him. He has besides the perfect Knowledge of their Existence: For since they depend upon His Will for their Existence, and He cannot be ignorant of His own Wills; it follows that He cannot be ignorant of their Existence; and consequently GOD beholds within Himself not only the Essence of things, but their Existence also.

But 'tis not the same with Created Spirits, as not being able to see in themselves either the Essence or the Existence of Things. They cannot see the Essence of them in themselves, since being of a short and limited Capacity, they contain not all Beings, as GOD does; who may be stil'd an Universal Being; or simply He that is, as He calls Himself. Seeing then the Humane Mind is capable of knowing all Beings, and Infinite Beings, and yet contains them not in it self; 'tis an infallible Argument, that it sees not their Essence in it self. For the Mind has not only a successive sight of first one thing, then another, it also actually perceives INFINITE: Though it does not comprehend it, as has been said in the foregoing Chapter. Wherefore being neither actually infinite, nor capable of infinite Modifications at the same time, it is absolutely impossible it should see in it self what it does not contain; it sees not then the Essence of things by considering its own Perfections, or by the diverse modifying of it self.

Nor does it see their Existence in it self, because they depend not on its Will for their Existence; and the Idea's of things may be present to the Mind, though they do not exist at all. For every one may have the Idea of a golden Mountain, though there be no such thing as a golden Mountain in Nature: And though we rely on the Testimonies of the Senses in our judging of the [Page] Existence of Objects, yet Reason does not assure us that we ought always to believe them, since we manifestly discover that they abuse us. When a Man's Blood, for instance, is well warm'd, or only when he sleeps, he sees sometimes before his Eyes, Fields, Battles, and the like, which yet are not present, and which possibly never were. 'Tis then indubitable, that the Mind neither in it self, nor by it self, sees the Existence of things, but in that particular depends on something else.

CHAP. VI.

That we see all things in GOD.

WE have examin'd in the preceding Chapters Four different ways for the Mind's perceiving External Objects; none of which seems likely to be true. There only remains the Fifth, which alone seems agreeable to Reason, and the properest to manifest the Dependance our Minds have on GOD in all our Thoughts.

'Tis requisite to our perfect Understanding it, to call to Mind what has been deliver'd in the foregoing Chapter, viz. That 'tis absolutely necessary for GOD to have in Himself the Idea's of all the Beings He has created, since otherwise he could not have produc'd them: And that hereby he sees all these Beings by considering the Perfections he includes, whereunto they are related. We ought to know farther, that GOD is most strictly united to our Souls by His Presence; so that He may be said to be the place of Spirits, as Space is the place of Bodies. These two things being suppos'd, it is certain that the Mind can see what there is in GOD, which represents Created Beings; that being most Spiritual, most Intelligible, and most closely Present to the Mind. And so the Mind may see in GOD all the Works of GOD, supposing GOD willing to discover to it what He has in Himself, that represents them. Here then are the Reasons which seem to prove He would rather do this, than create an infinite number of Idea's in every Mind.

In the first place, though it be not deny'd absolutely that GOD might have made infinite upon infinite Numbers of Beings, Representative of Objects with every Mind he has created; yet it is not to be believ'd that He has done it. For it is not only most agreeable to Reason, but moreover apparent from the Oeconomy of all Nature, that GOD never effects by most Round-about and difficult ways, what can be done in ways most simple and easie: GOD makes nothing needless, and without Reason. That which shews His Wisdom and His Power, is not the working little things by great means; this is against Reason, and the sign of a limited Understanding: But on the contrary, the effecting great things by most simple and easie ways. Thus it is that purely with Extension He produces all we see admirable in Nature; even that which gives Life and Motion to Animals. For those who would have absolute Substantial Forms and Faculties, and Souls in Animals, distinguish'd from the Blood and Organs of their Body, for the performance of their functions, will at the same time have GOD to want Understanding, or suppose him unable to effect those admirable things with Extension all alone. They measure the Power of GOD and His supream Wisdom, by the Littleness of their own Mind. Since then it is possible for GOD to to make all things visible to our Minds, by simply Willing they should see what is in the midst of themselves; that is, what He has in Himself, Relative and Representative of these things; it is not likely He should have done otherwise; and that He should produce for that purpose infinite upon infinite Idea's, with every Mind that He has created.

But 'tis to be well observ'd, that we cannot conclude that our Minds see the Essence of GOD, from their seeing all things in GOD in this Nature: because what they see is most imperfect, whereas GOD is most perfect. They see matter Divisible, Figur'd, &c. and in GOD there is nothing Divisible or Figur'd. For GOD is all Being, as being infinite, and comprehending all; But He is not any Being in particular; mean while what we see, is only one or more Beings in particular, and we comprehend not that perfect Simplicity of GOD, who concludes all Beings within Himself. Besides which it may be said, that we see not the Idea's of Things, so much as the Things represented by the Idea's; for in seeing a Square, for instance, we use not to say, we see the Idea of that Square which is united to the Mind, but only the Square that is without.

The second Reason which obliges me to think that we see all Beings, because GOD wills the discovery of what is in Himself, representing them; and not because we have so many Idea's created with us, as there are things to be seen, is, that this instates created Minds in an absolute Dependance upon GOD, and in the greatest that possibly can be. For it being so, we not only can see nothing but what GOD will have us see, but also can see nothing, except what He makes us see. We are not sufficient of our selves, but our sufficiency is of GOD:2 Cor. 3.5. Non sumus sufficientes cogitare aliquid à nobis tanquam ex nobis, sed sufficientia nostra ex Deo est. 'Tis GOD Himself that enlightens the Philosophers, in that Science which ungrateful Men call Natural, though it is deriv'd to them from Heaven. GOD hath shewed it unto them: Deus enim illis manifestavit. Rom. 1.19 Jac. 1.17. Ps. 94.10. Joh. 1.9. He is properly the Light of the Mind, and the Father of Lights: Pater Luminum. 'Tis He who teaches Men Knowledge: Qui docet hominem Scientiam. In a word, He is the true Light, that lighteth every Man that cometh into the World. Lux vera quae illuminat omnem hominem venientem in hunc mundum.

[Page]For 'tis no easie thing to comprehend distinctly the Dependance our Minds have on GOD, in all their particular Actions; supposing they have every thing, we distinctly know to be necessary to their Acting, or all the Idea's of things present to their Mind. And that general and confus'd term Concourse, whereby they offer to explain the Dependance Creatures have on GOD, raises no distinct Idea in a considerate Mind; and yet it is convenient Men should most distinctly know, how altogether impotent they are without GOD.

But the strongest Reason of all, is the manner of conduct the Mind takes in the perceiving every thing: It is manifest, and known to every one's own experience, that when we would think on any thing in particular, we first cast about our View upon all Beings in general, and afterwards apply our selves to the consideration of the Object we desire to think on: Now it is undoubtedly certain, that we could not desire the sight of any particular Object, but we must have already seen it, though it were confusedly and in general: So that it being possible to desire the seeing all Beings, sometimes one, and sometimes another, it is certain that all Beings are present to our Mind; and it seems that all Beings can be no otherwise present to our Mind, than as GOD is present to it; that is, He that contains all things in the simplicity of his Essence.

It seems too that the Mind would not be capable of representing to it self the universal Idea's of Genus, Species, and the like, unless it saw all Beings included in one. For every Creature being a particular Being, it can't be said, we see any thing created when we see, for example, a Triangle in general. In fine, I do not believe there is any way of accounting for the manner of the Mind's knowing several abstract and general Truths, but by the presence of Him who can enlighten the Mind ten thousand different ways.

In short, the finest, the most sublime, the most solid and primary proof (or that which supposes least things) of the Existence of a GOD, is the Idea we have of what is infinite: For it is certain that the Mind perceives infinite, though it does not comprehend it; and that it has a most distinct Idea of GOD, which can only arrive, through the Union it has with Him. Since 'tis inconceivable, that the Idea of a Being infinitely perfect, as is that we have of GOD, should be any thing of a created Nature.

But the Mind has not only the Idea of infinite, but this Idea is precedaneous to that of finite: For we conceive infinite Being, from our conceiving Being only, not considering whether it be finite or infinite. But in order to conceive Finite Being, it is necessary to prescind somewhat from that general Notion of Being, which consequently must precede it. So then the Mind perceives not any thing, except in the Idea it has of Infinite; and so far is that Idea from being form'd of a confus'd collection of all the Idea's of particular Beings, as the Philosophers imagine; that on the contrary, all these particular Idea's are only participations of that general Idea of infinite; as GOD derives not his Being from the Creatures, but all the Creatures have their subsistence from Him.

The last Proof, which possibly may go for a Demonstration with those who are us'd to abstract Reasonings, is this. 'Tis impossible for GOD to have any other Principal End of his Actions than Himself. This is a common Notion with all Men capable of any Reflection; and Holy Scripture will not suffer us to doubt, that GOD has created all things for Himself. It is necessary then not only that our Natural Love, I mean the Motion he produces in our Mind, should tend towards him; but also that the Knowledge and the Light he gives it, should discover something to us which is in Him: For all that comes from GOD, can have no other End but GOD. If GOD has made a Mind, and given it the Sun for its Idea, or for the immediate Object of its Knowledge, GOD, we should think, had made that Mind and the Idea of that Mind for the Sun, and not for Himself.

GOD cannot therefore make a Mind for the Knowledge of his Works, were it not that this Mind should in some sort see GOD in contemplating his Works. So that it may be said, that unless we saw GOD in some manner, we should see nothing at all; just as we should love nothing at all, except we lov'd GOD; that is, except GOD continually impress'd on us the love of Good in general. For that Love being our Will, we are unable to love any thing, or will any thing without Him; since we cannot love particular Goods, but by determining towards these Goods the motion of Love that GOD gives us for Himself. Thus as we love not any thing, but by means of that necessary Love we have for GOD; so we know nothing, but through that necessary Knowledge we have of Him, all the particular Idea's which we have of the Creatures, being only the Restrictions of the Idea of the Creator, as all the Motions of the Will towards the Creatures, are only Determinations of the Motion towards the Creator.

I suppose there is no Theologist but will agree with me in this, that the Impious love GOD, with this Natural Love I speak of: And St. Augustin, and some other of the Fathers maintain'd it as a thing undoubted, that the Wicked see in GOD the Rules of Morals, and eternal Truths. So that the Opinion I am explaining ought not to trouble any body. Ab illa incommutabili luce Veritatis, Lib▪ 14. de Trin. cap. 13. etiam impius, dum ab ea avertitur, quodammodo tangitur. Hinc est quod etiam impii cogitant aeternitatem, & multa rectè reprehendunt rectéque laudant in hominum moribus. Quibus ea tandem regulis judicant, nisi in quibus vident, quemadmodum quis (que) vivere debeat, etiamsi nec ipsi eodem modo vivant? Vbi autem eas vident? Neque enim in sua natura. Nam cum proculdubio mente ista videantur, eorumque mentes constet esse mutabiles, has verò regulas immutabiles, videat quisquis in eis & hoc videre potuerit..... Vbinam ergo sunt istae regulae scriptae, nisi in libro lucis illius, quae veritas dicitur, unde lex omnis justa describitur ......in qua videt quid operandum sit etiam qui operatur injustitiam, & ipse est qui ab ea luce avertitur à qua tamen tangitur.

[Page]There are in St. Augustin infinite passages of the like Nature, whereby he proves that we see GOD, even in this Life, through the Knowledge we have of eternal Truths. Truth is uncreated, immutable, immense, eternal, and above all things. It is true independently, and by it self, and is beholden to nothing else for its Perfection. It renders the Creatures more perfect, and all Spirits are naturally solicitous to know it; nothing can have all these Perfections, except GOD; therefore Truth is GOD. We see immutable and eternal Truths, therefore we see GOD. These are the Reasons of St. Augustin. My own are somewhat different; and I would not unjustly usurp the Authority of so Great a Man to countenance my Opinion.

'Tis my thoughts then that Truths, even those which are eternal, as That twice two are four, are not so much as absolute Beings; so far am I from believing them to be GOD. For 'tis manifest that this Truth consists only in the Relation of Equality, which is between twice two and four. We do not say then with St. Augustin, That we see GOD in seeing eternal Truths, but in seeing the Idea's of these Truths; for Idea's are real, but the Equality between Idea's, which is the Truth, has nothing real in it. When, for instance, we say, the Cloth we measure is three Ells long. The Cloth and the Ells are real, but the Equality between the three Ells and the Cloth is no real Being, but only a Relation intervening between them. In saying, Twice two are four, the Idea's of the Numbers are real, but the Equality between them is only a Relation. And thus according to our own Opinion, we see GOD in seeing eternal Truths; not that these Truths are GOD, but because the Idea's on which these Truths depend, exist in GOD; and perhaps too St. Augustin understood it so. We are perswaded also that we know changeable and corruptible Truths in GOD, though St. Augustin speaks only of the immutable and incorruptible; since there is no need of subjecting GOD to any imperfection on this account, nothing being more requir'd, than that GOD gives us a Manifestation of what He has in Himself, which relates to these things.

But when I say, that we see in GOD material and sensible Things, special Notice should be taken that I don't say, We have the Sensations of them in GOD, but only that they proceed from GOD, who acts upon us. For GOD perfectly knows sensible things; but not by any Sensation. In perceiving any thing of a sensible Nature, two things occur in our Perception; Sensation, and Pure Idea. The Sensation is a Modification of our Soul, and 'tis GOD who causes it in us; which he is able to cause, though He has it not Himself; because he sees in the Idea he has of our Soul, that it is capable of it: As to the Idea, which is found joyn'd to the Sensation; that is in GOD, and we see it, because he is pleas'd to discover it to us. And GOD joyns the Sensation to the Idea when the Objects are present, to the intent we may believe them so, and may enter into the Sentiments and Passions, that we ought to have with relation to them.

We believe lastly, that all Spirits see the eternal Laws, no less than other things in GOD; but with some difference. They know the Divine Order, and the Eternal Truths, and even the Beings GOD has made, according to this Order, and these Truths, through the Union they necessarily have with the WORD, or the WISDOM of GOD, who enlightens them, as we have before explain'd. But 'tis through the impression they without intermission receive from the Will of GOD, which carries them towards Him, and strives, as I may so say, to conform their Will entirely like His own; that they know this Order to be a Law; I mean that they know the Eternal Laws; as that Good ought to be lov'd, and Evil avoided; that Righteousness ought to be lov'd more than Riches; that 'tis better to obey GOD than to command Men, and infinite other Natural Laws. For the knowledge of all these Laws is not different from the knowledge of that impression which they constantly feel within themselves, though they do not always follow it by the free choice of their Will; and which they know to be common to all Minds, though it be not equally strong and powerful in them all.

'Tis by this Dependance of our Mind, and its Relation, and Union to the WORD of GOD: and of our Will to his Love, that we are made after the Image and Similitude of GOD. And though this Image be very much blurr'd and defac'd by Sin, yet it is necessary for it to subsist as long as we our selves. But if we bear the Image of the WORD humbled upon Earth, and obey the Motions of the Holy Spirit; that Primitive Image of our first Creation, that Union of our Mind to the WORD of the FATHER, and to the Love of the FATHER, and of the SON, will be repair'd, and be made indelible. We shall become like GOD, if we be like the Man-God. Lastly, GOD will be wholly in us, and we shall be wholly in GOD, in a far perfecter manner, than that whereby it is necessary to our Subsistence, that we should be in Him, and He in us.

These then are some of the Reasons that induce us to believe,See the Illustrations. that our Minds perceive all things through the intimate presence of Him, who comprehends all things in the Simplicity of his Essence. Let every one judge of them, according to the internal conviction he shall receive, after he has seriously consider'd them. But for my own part, I can see no probability, in any other way of explaining it, and I presume this last will appear more than probable.

Thus our Souls depend on GOD all manner of ways. For as it is He who makes them feel Pleasure and Pain, and all the other Sensations, by the Natural Union He has instituted between them and their Bodies, which is no other than His Decree and general Will: So it is He, who by means of the Natural Union He has plac'd between the Will of Man, and the Representation of Idea's, included in the immensity of the Divine Essence, gives them to know all that they know: Nor is this Natural Union any thing but his general Will. So that 'tis He only who can enlighten us, [Page] by representing all things to us, as 'tis He alone that can make us happy, by giving us to taste all sorts of Pleasures.

Let us persist then in our perswasion, that GOD is the intelligible World, or the place of Spirits, as the material World is the place of Bodies. That 'tis from His Power they receive all their Modifications; that 'tis in His Wisdom they discover all their Idea's; and 'tis by His Love they are influenc'd with all their regulated Motions: And because His Power and His Love are nothing but Himself; let us believe with St. Paul, that He is not far from every one of us, and that in Him we live,Act. Apost c. 17.28. and move, and have our Being. Non longè est ab unoquoque nostrûm, in ipso enim vivimus, movemur, & sumus.

CHAP. VII.

I. Four different manners of Perception. II. How it is that we know GOD. III. How we know Bodies. IV. How we know our own Souls. V. How we know the Souls of other Men, and Pure Spirits.

IN order to give an extract and illustration of the Notion I have just establish'd, concerning the manner of our Minds perceiving all the different Objects of its knowledge, it is necessary I should distinguish in it Four manners or ways of Knowing things.

I. Four different manners of Perception.The First is that whereby we know things by themselves.

The Second is that of knowing them by their Idea's; that is, as I understand it in this place, by something that is different from themselves.

The Third is that of Conscience, or by internal Sensation.

The Fourth is their knowing them by Conjecture.

We know things by themselves immediately and without Idea's, when being of a most intelligible Nature they can penetrate the Mind, or discover themselves to it. We know things by their Idea's when they are not intelligible by themselves, whether because they are Corporeal, or that they cannot penetrate the Mind, or discover themselves to it. We know by Conscience whatever is not distinguish'd from our selves. Lastly, we know by Conjecture the things which are different from our selves, and from those we know in themselves, and by Idea's, when we think that some things are like some others that we already know.

Of all the things that come under our Knowledge we know none but GOD by Himself. For though there be other Spiritual Beings besides Him; and such as seem intelligible by their own Nature; yet in our present State there is none but He that penetrates the Mind, and discovers Himself to it.II. How we know GOD▪ 'Tis GOD alone that we see with an immediate and direct View; and possibly He alone is able to enlighten the Mind by his own Substance. Finally, in this Life, it is from nothing but the Union that we have with Him, that we are capable of knowing what we know, as has been explain'd in the foregoing Chapter. For he only is our Master, who presides over our Mind, according to St. Austin, without the Deputation or Interposition of any Creature.Humanis mentibus nulla interposita natura praesidet. Aug. lib. de vera Relig. c. 55.

It cannot be conceiv'd, that any thing Created can represent infinite, that Being without restriction, the immense Being, the universal Being, can be perceiv'd by an Idea, that is, by a particular Being, and a Being different from the universal and infinite Being. But as to particular Beings, there is no difficulty to conceive how they can be represented by the infinite Being that includes them, and includes them in a most Spiritual, and consequently most intelligible manner. Thus it is necessary to say that GOD is intelligible by Himself, though the knowledge we have▪ of Him in this Life be very imperfect and confus'd; and that Corporeal things are intelligible by their Idea's; that is to say, in GOD; since GOD alone contains the intelligible World, wherein are found the Idea's of all things.

But though things are possible to be seen in GOD, it does not follow that we do see all things in Him: We see only those things in Him whereof we have Idea's, and there are things We see without Idea's.

III. How we know Bodies.All things in the World, whereof we have any knowledge, are either Bodies or Spirits; properties of Bodies, and properties of Spirits. As to Bodies, 'tis not to be doubted but we see them together with their Properties by their Idea's, forasmuch as being unintelligible of themselves, there is no possibility of seeing them, except in that Being which contains them in an intelligible manner. Bodies then and their Properties are seen in GOD, and by their Idea's; and for this reason the knowledge we have of them is most perfect. I mean, that the Idea that we have of Extension, is sufficient for the displaying to us all the Properties Extension is capable of; [Page] and we cannot desire a more distinct and fertil Idea of Extension of Figures, and Motions, than that which GOD furnishes us withal.

As the Idea's of things which are in GOD, include all their Properties; in seeing their Idea's we can see successively all the Properties of them: for in seeing things as they are in GOD, we constantly see them in the most perfect manner, and the knowledge of them would be infinitely Perfect, if the Mind that perceives them in him were infinite. What is wanting to our knowledge of Extension, its Figures, and Motions, is not the defectiveness of the Idea that represents it, but of our Mind that considers it.

But 'tis not so in point of the Soul; we know her not by her Idea; we see her not in GOD;IV. How we know the Soul. we know her only by Conscience: and for that reason the knowledge we have of her is imperfect. We know nothing of our Soul, but what we feel pass within us. If we never had had the sensation of Pain, Pleasure, Light, &c. it were impossible for us to know whether the Soul was capable of them, because we know her not by her Idea. But if we saw in GOD the Idea that answers to our Soul, we should at the same time know, or at least,See the Illustrations. might know all the Properties she is capable of; as we know all the Properties Extension is capable of, because we know Extension by its Idea.

It is true we know well enough by our Conscience, or by the internal sentiment we have of our selves, that our Soul is something great and excellent: But 'tis possible that what we know of her, is the least part of what she is in her self. If all we knew of Matter, were only Twenty or Thirty Figures, wherewith it had been modify'd, certainly our knowledge of it had been very inconsiderable, in comparison of what we know by the Idea that represents it. To understand then the Soul perfectly, it is not sufficient to know that only, which we receive by internal Sentiment, since our Self-Consciousness discovers to us, it may be but the least part of our Being.

It may be concluded from what has been said, that though we know the existence of our Soul better than the existence of our Body, or than of the things about us, yet we have not so perfect knowledge of the Nature of our Soul, as of the Nature of our Body; which may serve to reconcile the different Sentiments of those who say there is nothing better known than the Soul, and of others that affirm we understand nothing less.

This too may be of Use to prove that the Idea's, which represent something to us that's External, are not Modifications of our Soul. For if the Soul saw all things by considering her own Modifications, she ought to have a more clear and perspicuous knowledge of her own Essence or Nature, than of that of Bodies; and of the Sensations or Modifications she is capable of, than of all the Figures or Modifications incident to Bodies. Mean while, she knows not that she is capable of this or that Sensation, by any View she takes of her self, but by Experience; whereas she knows Extension to be capable of an infinite number of Figures by the Idea which represents Extension. There are morover certain Sensations as Colours and sounds, which the generality of Men cannot discover to be Modifications of the Soul; but there are no Figures which every one does not know by the Idea he has of Extension, to be the Modifications of Bodies.

What I have been saying, shews likewise the reason why we cannot give a Definition explanatory of the Modifications of the Soul. For since we know neither the Soul, nor its Modifications by Idea's, but only by Sensations; and such Sensations of Pleasure, for instance, Pain, Heat, or the like, have no Connexion with Words; It is plain that had a Man never seen Colour, nor felt Heat, he could not be made to understand these Sensations by all the Definitions in the World. Now Men having their Sensations occasionally from the Body, and all Men's Bodies being not dispos'd alike, it often happens, that these words are Equivocal: and that those which are employ'd to express the Modifications of our Soul, signify quite contrary to what they design: so that thay often, for instance, make a Man think of Bitter, when 'tis suppos'd they make him think of Sweet.

But though we have not an entire knowledge of our Soul, we are sufficiently instructed by Conscience, for demonstrating her Immortality, Spirituality, Liberty, and some other Attributes which it is necessary for us to know; and for that reason GOD manifests her not to us by her Idea, in the way that he gives us to know Bodies. True, the knowledge we have of our Soul by Conscience is imperfect, but it is not false: the knowledge on the contrary we have of Bodies, by Sensation or Conscience, if we may term Conscience that Sensation we have of what occurrs in our Bodies, is not only imperfect, but also false. Wherefore the Idea of Bodies was necessary to correct the Sensations we had of them. But we have no need of the Idea of the Soul, since the Consciousness we have of her, engages us not in Error; and there is no fear of mistaking in the Knowledge of her, if we be carefull not to confound her with the Body; which may be done by Reason. Lastly, if we had had a clear Idea of the Soul, as we have of the Body, that Idea had made us consider her as too separate from it, and so it had weakned the union of our Soul with our Body, by hindring us from regarding our Soul, as expanded through all our Members: which I explain not more at large.

There remains now no other Objects of our Knowledge to be spoke to, than the Souls of other Men, and pure Intelligences, and 'tis manifest we know them only by Conjecture. V. How we know the Souls of other Men. We know them not at present, either in themselves, or by their Idea's: and whereas they are different from us, it is not possible to know them by Conscience. We conjecture that the Souls of other men are of the same Species with our own. What we feel in our selves, we presume [Page] that they feel too: and when these Sentiments have no Relation to our Body, we are sure we are not deceiv'd; because we see certain Idea's and immutable Laws in GOD, according to which we are certainly assur'd that GOD acts equally on all Spirits.

I know, that twice two are four; that it is better to be Righteous than Rich: and I am not deceiv'd in believing others know these Truths, as well as I. I love Good and Pleasure, I hate Evil and Pain: I am willing to be happy, and I am not deceiv'd in thinking all Men, and Angels, and even Devils, have the same Inclinations. I know likewise that GOD will never make Spirits undesirous of Happiness, or that can be desirous of being Miserable. But I know it with evidence and certainty, since 'tis GOD that teaches me: for who could inform me of the Designs and Wills of GOD, but GOD Himself. But when the Body is a partner in that which occurrs within me, I am almost ever deceiv'd, if I measure others by my self. I feel Heat, I see a thing of such a Size, or such a Colour; I have such or such a Tast, upon the application of certain Bodies to my Palate: and I am deceiv'd, if I judge of others by my self: I am subject to particular Passions, I have a kindness or aversion to this or that thing, and I judge that others have the like: but my Conjecture is often false. Thus the Knowledge we have of other Men is very obnoxious to Error, if we judge of them only from the Sensations we have of our selves.

Whether there are any Beings different from GOD, our selves, Bodies, and Pure Spirits, is unknown to us. We can hardly perswade our selves there are; and after we have examin'd the Reasons of some Philosophers, who pretend the contrary, we have found them false: Which has confirm'd us in the Notion we had taken up, that all Men being of the same Nature, we have all the same Idea's, as having all need of the Knowledge of the same things.

CHAP. VIII.

I. The intimate Presence of the indefinite Idea of Being in general, is the cause of all the disorderly Abstractions of the Mind: and the most part of the Chimera's of the Vulgar Philosophy, which hinder many Philosophers from acknowledging the solidity of true Principles of Physicks. II. An Instance concerning the Essence of Matter.

I. The intimate Presence of the indefinite Idea of Being in general, is the cause of all the disorderly Abstractions of the Mind: and the most part of the Chimaera's of the Vulgar Philosophy, which hinder many Philosophers from acknowledging the solidity of true Principles of Physick.THAT clear, intimate, and necessary Presence of GOD: I mean that presence of Being without any particular Limitation; of Being infinite, and in general, to the Mind, acts stronglier upon it, than the pre [...]ence of all finite Objects. It is impossible to divest it self absolutely of this general Idea of Being; since 'tis impossible to subsist out of GOD. Perhaps it may be said, that the Mind can separate it self from him, because it can think on particular Beings. But this is a mistake. For the Mind in considering any Being in particular, does not so much separate and recede from GOD, as approach nearer some of His Perfections, if I may be permitted so to speak, by removing farther off from others. However, it doth not distance it self in that manner, as quite to lose sight of them; but is ever in a Capacity of seeking them out, and approaching near them. They are ever present to the Mind, yet the Mind perceives them not but in an unexplicable confusion, by reason of its Littleness, and the Greatness of the Idea of Being: A Man may indeed be some time without thinking on himself; but he cannot, as I think, subsist a moment without thinking on Being; and even at the time a Man believes he thinks of nothing, he is necessarily full of the indeterminate and general Idea of Being. But because the things which are customary to us, and which don't affect us, alarum not the Mind with any vehemence, nor oblige it to make reflection on them: this Idea of being so great, so vast, so real, and positive as it is, is so familiar to us, and makes so little impression, that we fancy that we hardly see it; that we make no reflection on it; and consequently judge there is little reality in it: and that 'tis only form'd from a confus'd collection of all particular Idea's; though on the contrary it is in this, and by this only, we perceive all Beings in particular.

Though that Idea which we receive through our immediate union with the WORD of GOD, never deceives us of it self, as do those we derive from the union we have with our Body, which represents things to us otherwise than they are; yet I scruple not to say, That we make so bad use of the best things, that the indelible presence of this Idea, is one of the principal Causes of all the disorderly Abstractions of the Mind; and consequently of all that Abstract and Chimerical Philosophy, which explains all Natural Effects, by the general terms of Act, Power, Cause, Effect, Substantial Forms, Faculties, Occult Qualities, Sympathy, Antipathy, &c. For 'tis certain these Terms, and a great many others, excite no other Idea's in the Mind, than indeterminate and general Idea's; that is, Idea's which readily offer themselves to the Mind, without any trouble, and application on our own part.

Let a Man read with all Attention possible, all the Definitions and Explications given of Substantial [...]orms; let him do his best to search wherein consists the Essence of all these Entities, [Page] which the fruitful Imagination of Philosophers produces in such multitudes at pleasure, that they are forc'd to divide them, and subdivide them over and over again; and I dare engage, that he shall never excite in his Mind, any other Idea of all these things, than that of Being, and of Cause in general.

For let us take a view of the customary proceedings of Philosophers. They observe some new Effect, and presently imagine some new Entity must produce it. The Fire heats; there is then in the Fire some Entity to produce this Effect, which differs from the Matter the Fire is compos'd of: And because Fire is capable of many different Effects, as of separating Bodies, Pulverizing Vitrifying, Drying, Hardning, Softning, Dilating, Purifying, and Enlightning them, &c. therefore they liberally bestow on Fire so many Faculties, or real Qualities, as it is capable of producing different Effects.

But if we reflect on all the Definitions they give of these Faculties, we shall find they are nothing else but Logical Definitions, which raise no other Idea's, than that of Being and Cause in general, which the Mind refers to the Effect that is produc'd. So that a Man is nothing the wiser when he has studied them never so long: For all that is got by this sort of Study, is the imagining we know better than others, what indeed we know much worse; not only because we admit many Entities that never were; but also in being prepossess'd, we make our selves incapable of conceiving how 'tis possible for Matter all alone, as that of Fire, in being mov'd against Bodies differently dispos'd, to produce all the different Effects we see Fire produce.

It is manifest to all those who have read any thing, That almost all the Books of Science, and especially those which treat of Physicks, Medicine, and Chymistry, and of all particular things of Nature, are full of nothing but Argumentations, founded on the Elementary and Secondary Qualities, as Attractive, Retentive, Concoctive, Expulsive, and such like; upon others which they term Occult; upon specifick Vertues; and many other Entities, which Men frame and make up out of the general Idea of Being, and out of the Cause of the Effect which they see; which methinks could not happen, were it not for the facility they have at considering the Idea of Being in general, which is always present to their Mind, through the intimate presence of Him who includes all Beings.

If the vulgar Philosophers would be content to let their Physicks go for simple Logicks; which furnish'd out Terms for the Discoursing of Natural things, and if they would give those Men leave to be quiet, who affix to these Terms distinct and particular Idea's, to make themselves intelligible, we should have nothing to reprehend in their Conduct: But they set up themselves for the explaining Nature, by general and abstract Idea's, as if Nature were her self abstract; and will absolutely have the Physicks of their Master Aristotle, to be real Physicks, which searches to the bottom of things, and not a simple Logick only; though it has nothing sufferable in it, except it be some Definitions, so loose and indefinite, and some so general Terms, as may be employ'd in all sorts of Philosophy. In fine, their Heads are so full of these imaginary Entities, and these loose and indeterminate Idea's, which spring up naturally in their Minds, that they are too incapable of fixing their Thoughts for any time upon the real Idea's of things, to discover their solidity and evidence. And this is the Cause of that their extream ignorance of the true Principles of Natural Philosophy. 'Tis necessary to give a proof of it.

The Philosophers are sufficiently agreed, That that ought to be look'd upon as the Essence of a thing, which is acknowledg'd the First in that thing, which is inseparable from it,II. Of the Essence of Matter. If this Definition of the word Essence be admitted, all the rest is absolutely demonstrated; if it be not admitted, 'tis only a nominal Question, wherein consists the Essence of Matter; or rather, it cannot be the subject of a Question. and on which all the Properties which belong to it, depend: So that to discover wherein consists the Essence of Matter, we must consider all the Properties that comport with it, or are included in the Idea we have of it: as Hardness, Softness, Fluidness, Motion, Rest, Figure, Divisibility, Impenetrability, and Extension; and enquire immediately which of these Attributes is inseparable from it. Thus Fluidity, Hardness, Softness, Motion, and Rest, being to be separated from Matter, since there are many Bodies without Hardness, Fluidity, or Softness, which are not in Motion, or lastly which are not at rest, it clearly follows that none of these Attributes are essential to it.

And now there remain only four, which we conceive inseparable from Matter; namely Figure, Divisibility, Impenetrability, and Extension; wherefore in order to understand which Attribute is to be taken for its Essence, we must no longer think of separating them, but only examine which is the Primary, and that supposes none before it. Now we easily discover that Figure, Divisibility, and Impenetrability, suppose Extension; and that Extension presupposes nothing: But this being given, Divisibility, Impenetrability, and Figure, necessarily follow. Extension then ought to be concluded the Essence of Matter, on Supposition it has no other Attributes than those beforemention'd, and such as are like them: and I am perswaded no Man in the World can doubt of it, when he has seriously consider'd it.

But all the difficulty is to know, Whether Matter has not some other Attributes, different from Extension, and its Dependants; so that Extension it self may not be essential to it, but may suppose some other thing, both as its Subject, and its Pri [...]ciple.

Many Men, after having most attentively consider'd the Idea, which they have of Matter, by all the Attributes that are known of it; after having meditated likewise on the Effects of Nature, as much as their Strength and Capacity of Mind would permit them, have been strongly convinc'd, that Extension supposes not any thing in Matter, whether because they have had no [Page] distinct and particular Idea of that thing pretended, precedaneous to Extension, or because they have found no visible Effect to prove it.

For even as to our being perswaded that a Watch hath no Entity, different from the Matter, it is compos'd of; it suffices to know, how the different Disposition of the Wheels is able to effect all the Movements of a Watch, without having any other distinct Idea of what might possibly be the Cause of these Motions, though there be many Logical to had. So because these Persons have no distinct Idea of what could be in Matter, were Extension taken away, and see no Attribute that can explicate its Nature, and because Extension being granted, all the Attributes conceiv'd to belong to Matter, are at the same time granted: and because Matter is the Cause of no Effect, which may not be conceiv'd producible by Extension, diversly configur'd, and diversly mov'd; therefore they are perswaded, that Extension is the Essence of Matter.

But as no Man can infallibly demonstrate there is not some Intelligence, or New-created Entity in the Wheels of a Watch; so no Man can, without a particular Revelation, be assur'd as of a Geometrical Demonstration, that there is nothing but Extension diversly configur'd in a Stone. For 'tis absolutely possible for Extention to be joyn'd with something which we don't conceive, because we have no Idea of it: though it seems very unreasonable to believe and assert it; it being contrary to Reason, to assert what we neither know, nor have any conception of.

Yet though we should suppose, That there were something besides Extension in Matter, yet that would be no Impediment, if we well observe it, why Extension should not be its Essence, according to the Definition we have given of the Word. For, in short, 'tis absolutely necessary that every thing in the World, should be either a Being, or a Mode of being; and no Thinking and Attentive Man can deny it. But Extension is not the Mode of a Being; therefore it is a Being. But because Matter is not constituted of several Beings; as Man, who is compos'd of a Body and Mind; Matter being one simple Being, it is manifest that Matter is nothing but Extension.

Now to prove that Extension is not a Mode of Being, but a real Being; it must be observ'd, That a Mode of Being cannot be conceiv'd, but the Being must at the same time be conceiv'd whereof it is the Mode: We cannot conceive Rotundity, for Instance, but we must conceive Extension, because the Mode of Being or Existence, being only the Being it self in such a sort of state, (the Roundness of tbe Wax, for Instance, being but the Wax it self, in such a sort or fashion); it is plain that we cannot conceive the Mode without the Being. If then Extension were a Mode of Being, we could not conceive Extension without the Being, whereof Extension was the Mode: whereas we easily conceive Extension all alone. Wherefore it is not a Mode of Being: but consequently a Being of it self. And so it is the Essence of Matter, since Matter is but a simple Being, and not compos'd of many Beings: as I have already said.

But many Philosophers have so accustom'd themselves to general Idea's, and Logical Entities as to have their Mind more possess'd with them, than those that are distinct, particular, and Physical. Which is evident enough from hence, that their Argumentations upon Natural things, are founded merely on Logical Notions; such as Act, Power, and an infinite number of Imaginary Entities, which they take no care to distinguish, from such as are Real. These Gentlemen therefore finding it wonderful easie, to see after their manner what they have a Mind to see, imagine they have better Eyes than other Men, and that they perceive distinctly Extension supposes something else; and that 'tis only a Property of Matter, which Matter may be divested of, as of the rest.

Yet if you make a Demand of them, that they would please to explain that thing which they pretend to perceive in Matter, besides Extension; they offer to do it several ways, every of which makes it apparent, that they have no other Idea of it than that of Being, or of Substance in general. This is extreamly evident, if we take notice, That this their Idea includes no particular Attributes, which agree to Matter. For whilst we take Extension from Matter, we rob it of all the Attributes and Properties, which we distinctly conceive do belong to it; and though we leave that imaginary thing, which they suppose the Essence of it; it being manifest, that neither Earth nor Heaven, nor any thing we see in Nature, could be made of it. Whereas on the contrary, if we take away what they fancy, the Essence of Matter, provided we leave Extension, and we leave all the Attributes and Properties we distinctly conceive, included in the Idea of Matter: For it is certain, that out of Extension all alone might be fram'd an Heaven, an Earth, and all the Visible World, and infinite others. So this Something which they suppose over and above Extension, having no Attributes distinctly to be conceiv'd belonging to it, and clearly included in the Idea we have of it, can have nothing real in it, if we will credit our Reason; nor can be of any use in explaining Natural Effects. And that which is said of its being the Subject and Principle of Extension, is said gratis, and without any distinct Conception in them that say it; that is, they have no other than a General and Logical Idea of it, as of Subject and Principle: In so much that we may further imagine a new Subject, and a new Principle of this Subject of Extension; and so in infinitum, the Mind having the Power of representing the General Idea's of Subject and Principle, as long as it pleases.

[Page]'Tis true there is a great probability, that Men had not so puzzl'd and obscur'd the Idea that they have of Matter, had they not some Reasons for it; and that there are many who maintain contrary Conclusions to these of ours, upon Theological Principles. Doubtless Extension is not the Essence of Matter, if that be contrary to our Faith: And we willingly acknowledge it. We are, thank GOD, very well perswaded of the Feebleness, and Limitedness of an Humane Mind. We know it is of too little Extent to measure an Infinite Power; that GOD can do infinitely more than we can conceive; that he communicates only those Idea's, which represent to us the things that arrive by the order of Nature, and hides the rest from us. Wherefore we are always ready to submit our Reason unto Faith; but there is need of better proofs than are generally urg'd, to ruin the Reasons we have establish'd: Because the manner of explaining the Mysteries of Faith, are not of Faith, and we believe these Mysteries, without conceiving how the manner of them can be distinctly explaind.

We believe, for instance, the Mystery of the TRINITY, though the Humane Mind is unable to conceive it; and yet we cease not to believe, that the things that differ not in any third, differ not in themselves: though this Proposition seems to overthrow it. For we are convinc'd, that Reason is not to be made use of, except in Subjects proportion'd to its Capacity; and that we ought not to look steadfastly on our Mysteries, for fear of being dazel'd by them, according that Admonition of the Holy Spirit, Qui scrutator est Majestatis opprimetur à gloriâ.

However, if we thought it convenient for the satisfaction of some Men's Minds to explain how our Notion upon this matter may be reconcil'd, with what we are taught by Faith concerning Transubstantiation; we probably could do it in a way very distinct, and perspicuous and could no ways offend against the Decisions of the Church: But we think this Explication may be dispens'd with, especially in this Work.

For it ought to be observ'd, That the Holy Fathers have almost always look'd upon it as an incomprehensible Mystery; and that they never play'd the Philosophers to explain it: but contented themselves for the most part with unexact Comparisons, fitter to make known the Doctrine than to give a Satisfactory Explication to the Mind: Therefore Tradition is for such as Philosophize not on this Mystery, and who sumit their Reason to the Rule of Faith, without distracting their Brain to no purpose, about most abstruse and difficult Questions.

We should be to blame, should we require the Philosophers, to give us clear and easie Explications of the manner of our LORD's Body being in the Eucharist; for this would be to demand of them novelties in Divinity. And in case the Philosophers should make an impudent Answer to the Demand, they must be necessarily obnoxious either to the having their Philosophy or Divinity condemn'd. For if their Explications were obscure, they would give reason to despise the Principles of their Philosophy; if their Answer were easie and apparent we should have reason to be apprehensive of Novelty in their Divinity.

Since then Novelty in point of Divinity, bears the Impress and Character of Error, and the World has a right and priviledge of despising Opinions merely on the Account of their being Novel, and having no foundation in Tradition; we ought not to undertake to give easie and intelligible Explications of those things, which the Fathers and Councels, have not perfectly explain'd: and 'tis sufficient to hold the Doctrine of Transubstantiation, without offering to make out the manner of it. For otherwise we might sow the seeds for fresh Disputes, and Quarrels, whereof there are too many already; and the Enemies of the Truth would not fail to use them to malicious purpose, and for the oppressing of their Adversaries.

Disputes in point of Theological Explications, seem to be the most useless and most dangerous of any; and they are with greater reason to be fear'd; for that even Religious Persons often fancy they have a right of breaking their Charity with such as break with their Opinions. We have but too common Experience of this Practice; and the cause of it lies not very deep. Wherefore 'tis always the best and surest way, not to be eager to speak of things whereof we have no Evidence, and which others are not dispos'd to conceive.

Nor ought obscure and uncertain Explications of Mysteries of Faith, which we are under no obligation to believe, to serve for a Rule and Principle for the guiding our Reasonings in Philosophy, where nothing but Evidence ought to perswade us. We are not to change the clear and distinct Idea's of Extension, Figure, and Local Motion, for the general and confus'd Idea's of Principle, or of subject of Extension, of Form of Quiddities, and Real Qualities, and of all those Motions of Generation, Corruption, and Alteration, and others which differ from Local Motion. Real Idea's will produce real Science: but from general and Logical Idea's, can proceed nothing, but a random superficial and a barren Science. Wherefore we ought with serious Reflection to attend to the distinct and particular Idea's of things, for the discovering the Properties they contain; and thereby study Nature instead of losing our selves in these Chimera's, which are only the litter or off-spring of some Philosopher's Brains.

CHAP. IX.

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I. The last general Cause of our Errors. II. That the Idea's of things are not always present to the Mind, when we would have them. III. That every finite Mind is subject to Error, and why. IV. That we ought not to judge that there is nothing but Body and Spirit: Nor that GOD is a Spirit, according to our conception of Spirits.

I. The last general Cause of our Errors.WE have hitherto treated of such Errors, as may have some occasional Cause assigned in the Nature of the pure Intellect, or of the Mind, consider'd as acting by it self: and in the nature of Idea's; that is to say, in the manner of the Mind's perceiving external Objects. There remains only one Cause now to be explain'd, which may be term'd the universal and general Cause of our Errors; because we can conceive no Error, that has not some sort of dependance on it. The Cause is this: That Nothing having no Idea to represent it, the Mind is carried to believe that the things whereof it has no Idea, have no Existence.

'Tis certain that the general Source of our Errors, as we have often said, is our Judgment's having greater extent and latitude, than our Perceptions. For when we consider any Object, we commonly take the prospect but on one side of it; but we are not content to judge only of that side we have consider'd, but we pronounce of it all entire: And so it often fortunes that we are deceiv'd; for though the thing be true on the part we have Examin'd, it is commonly false on the other we have not; and what we believe true, is no more than probable. Now 'tis manifest that we should not judge thus absolutely on things as we do, did we not think we had consider'd all the parts of them, or suppose them all like that which we have examin'd. So the general Cause of our Errors lies in this, that having no Idea of the other Faces of the Object, or of their difference with that which is present to our Thoughts, we believe those other Faces don't exist; or at least we suppose they have no particular difference.

This manner of acting we think reasonable enough: For since Nothing cannot form any Idea in the Mind, we have some pretence to believe that the things, that form no Idea in the Mind, at the time of our Examining them, resemble Nothing: And that which confirms us in this Opinion, is our being perswaded by a sort of Instinct, that the Idea's of things are due to our Nature, and are in such wise subjected to the Mind, that they are oblig'd to pay their attendance, when the Mind commands them.

II. That the Idea's of things are not always present to the Mind, when we would have them.However, if we would make a little Reflection upon the present state of our Nature, we should hardly be so strongly bent upon believing all the Idea's of things, so much at our beck and command. Man, as I may say, is only Flesh and Blood, since Adam's Transgression: The least impression of his Senses and his Passions interrupts the strongest Application of his Mind: and the current of the Spirits and Blood, hurry it along with them, and drive it continually upon sensible Objects. In vain it strives to withstand the Torrent it is carried by, and rarely it is, that it thinks of resisting it; so pleasant it finds it to follow, and so troublesome to struggle against the stream. The Mind therefore is discourag'd and dejected as soon as it has made an attempt to hold, and fix it self upon a Truth; and 'tis absolutely false in the state we are in, that the Idea's of things are present to the Mind, as often as we would consider them: And therefore we ought not to judge that things are not in being, upon the only score of our having no Idea's of them.

But though we should suppose Man absolute Master of his Mind, and its Idea's, yet he would still be subject to Error,III. Every finite Mind is subject to Error. by the necessity of his Nature. For the Mind of Man is limited; and every limited Mind is by Nature liable to Error. The reason whereof is this, that the least things have Infinite Relations betwixt them, and require an Infinite Mind to comprehend them. And therefore a limited Mind being unable to embrace, and comprehend all these Relations, after all that ever it can do, a Man's inclin'd to believe, that those which he does not perceive, don't exist; especially when he does not consider the Weakness and Limitation of his Mind, as 'tis customary for him not to do. And thus the Finiteness of the Mind alone, brings along with it the Capacity of falling into Error.

Notwithstanding, if Men even in this their state of Infirmity and Corruption, made always good use of their Liberty, they would never be deceiv'd. And for this reason, every one that falls into Error, is justly blameable, and deservedly obnoxious to punishment: For no more is requisite for the avoiding Error, than to judge only of what a Man sees, and not to form compleat judgments on things, before he is assur'd he has examin'd them in all their parts: and this is possible for Men to do. But they had rather subjugate themselves to Error, than conform to the Rule of Truth; and love to arbitrate without the trouble of Enquiry: And so we need not wonder if they are guilty of infinite Errors, and frequently stand chargeable with uncertain and unwarrantable Judgments.

[Page]All the Idea's, for instance, that Men have of Substance, are those of Spirit and of Body;IV. We ought not to judge that there is no created Being besides Body and Spirit: nor that GOD is a Spirit, according to the conception of Spirits. that is of a thinking, and extended Substance: and thereupon they take upon them to determine, that whatever exists, is either of Body or Spirit. This is not said, as if I presum'd to affirm there were any Substance, neither Body nor Spirit: it being too hazardous to maintain those things exist whereof we have no Idea; since 'tis suppos'd that GOD, who conceals not his Works from us, would have given us some Idea of them. Yet I think we ought to determine nothing concerning the number of the kinds of Beings which GOD has created, from the Idea's we have of them: Since absolutely speaking, there may be Reasons why GOD should conceal them from us, if it were only that these Beings having no Relation to us, the Knowledge of them would be of little use to us: as he has not given us Eyes acute enough to reckon the Teeth of an Hand-worm, since 'twould be useless to the Preservation of our Body, to have so penetrating an Eye-sight.

But though we do not think it fit to judge hastily and rashly, that all Being is divided into Spirit and Body; yet we think it inconsistent with Reason for Philosophers, in explaining Natural Effects, to use other Idea's than those that depend on Thought and Extension: these in Effect being the only distinct or particular that we have.

There is nothing more Unphilosophical and Irrational, than to imagine vast numbers of Beings from simple Logical Idea's; to bestow on them infinite properties; and so to go about explaining things, which no body understands, by things which not only no body conceives, but which indeed are impossible to be conceived. This is to take the same course that Blind Men would do, when intending to discourse of Colours, and maintain the Theses that concern them, they should make use of the Definitions they receive from the Philosophers, and thence make their Inferences and Conclusions. For as these blind Men's Arguings and Disputes about Colours, must needs be pleasant and ridiculous enough, since they could have no distinct Idea's of the Subjects in Question, and would only argue from general and Logical Idea's. So the Philosophers can never reason justly and solidly upon the Effects of Nature, when they only employ general and Logical Idea's, as of Act, Power, Being, Cause, Principle, Form, Quality, and others of like Nature, It is absolutely necessary for them to ground their Disputes and Reasonings only upon the distinct and particular Idea's of Thought and Extension, and those which are contain'd in them, as Figure, Motion, &c. For we can never expect to arrive to the Knowledge of Nature, but by the Consideration of the distinct Idea's we have of it: and 'tis better not to meditate at all, than to throw our Meditation away upon Whimsies and Chimera's.

We ought not however to assert that there is nothing but Spirit and Body, Thinking and Extended Beings in Nature, since 'tis impossible for us to be mistaken. For though these are sufficient for the Explication of Nature, and consequently we may conclude without danger of erring, That all Natural things, as far as our Knowledge goes, depend upon Extension and Thought; yet absolutely speaking, its not impossible but there may be others, whereof we have no Idea, nor see any Effect.

Men are therefore too rash and precipitate in judging, as an indisputable Principle, that all Substance is distinguish'd into Body and Spirit. But they thence infer a rash and unadvis'd conclusion▪ when they determine by the sole light of Reason, that GOD is a Spirit. 'tis true, that since we are created after His Image and Similitude, and we are taught from several places of the Holy Scripture, that GOD is a Spirit, we ought to believe and call Him so: But Reason all alone can never teach us so much. It only tells us that GOD is a Being infinitely perfect; and that he ought rather to be a Spirit than a Body, since our Soul is more perfect than our Body; but it cannot assure us, there are not still other Beings more perfect than those Spirits within us, and rang'd in an higher order above them, than our Minds are above our Bodies.

But supposing there were such Beings as these, (as Reason makes it unquestionable that GOD was able to create them) 'tis evident they would have a nearer resemblance to their Maker than our selves: And so the same Reason informs us, that GOD would rather have their Perfections than ours; which would be reckon'd but imperfections in comparison with them. We ought not therefore precipitately to imagine that the word Spirit, which we indifferently use to signifie what GOD is, and what we are our selves, is an univocal Term expressing the same things, or very like. GOD is farther exalted above Created Spirits, than these Spirits are elevated above Bodies; and we ought not to term GOD a Spirit so much for a positive Declaration of what He is, as to signifie He is not material. He is an infinitely perfect Being, no Man can doubt of it: But as we are not to imagine with the Anthropomorphites, that he ought to have an Humane shape; because that Figure seems the most perfect, though we should suppose Him Corporeal; so we ought not to think that the Spirit of GOD has Humane Thoughts, and that his mind is like our own, because we know nothing perfecter than our own Mind. 'Tis rather to be believ'd, that as he includes in Himself the Perfections of Matter, without being material: (for 'tis certain that Matter has a Relation to some Perfection that is in God) so He comprehends the Perfections of created Spirits, without being a Spirit, after our manner of conceiving Spirits; that his true Name is HE THAT IS: that is, being without restriction, all Being, being Infinite and Universal

CHAP. X.

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Some Instances of Errors in Physicks, wherein Men are engag'd by supposing that the things which differ in their Nature, their Qualities, Extension, Duration, and Proportion, are alike in these things.

IT has been shewn in the Fore-going Chapter, That Men make a rash Judgment in concluding all Beings under two Heads, either of Body or Spirit; we will make it appear in the succeeding Chapters, that they not only make rash Judgments, but false too; and which are the fruitful Principles of innumerable Errors, when they judge that Beings are not different in their Relations and Modes, because they have no Idea of these Differences.

'Tis certain that the Mind of Man searches only after the Relations of things: First those which the Objects, it considers, have to it self, and then those which they have with one another. For Man's Mind is inquisitive only after its Good and Truth. For the finding out its Good, it considers carefully by Reason, and by Taste or Sensation, whether the Objects have any Relation of Agreement with it self. For the discovering Truth, it considers whether the Objects have any Relation of Equality or Similitude, to each other, or what precisely is the Quantity that is equal to their Inequality. For as Good is not the Good of the Mind any farther than it is agreeable to it: so Truth is not Truth, but by the Relation of Equality or Resemblance, which is found betwixt two things, or more: whether this Relation be between two or more Objects; as between an Ell, and a Piece of Cloth: For 'tis true that this is an Ell of Cloth, because of the Equality between the Ell and the Cloth: whether it be between two or more Idea's, as between the two Idea's of Three and Three, and that of Six: for 'tis true that Three and Three are Six, because of the Equality between the two Idea's of Three and Three, and the Idea of Six: Or whether lastly, it be between Idea's and Things, when the Idea's represent what the Things are. For when I say, There is a Sun, my Proposition is true, because the Idea's I have of Existence, and of the Sun, represent that the Sun exists, and that it truly exists. Every Action of the Mind about, and every Attention to Objects, is only then to try to discover their Relations, since we apply our selves to the consideration of things, only for the finding out the Truth or Goodness of them.

But as we have said before in the preceding Chapter, Attention tires and dispirits the Mind; so that it speedily desists to oppugn and bear against the Impression of the Senses, that throws it off its Object, and hurries it towards others, which the love it has to its Body, render grateful and agreeable. It has but a straitned Capacity, and so the differences which are between the Subjects it examines being infinite, or almost so, it is incapable of distinguishing them. Wherefore the Mind supposes imaginary Resemblances, where it observes no Positive and Real Differences; the Idea's of Resemblance being more present to it, more familiar and more simple than the other. For 'tis manifest that Similitude includes only one Relation, and there is need only of one Idea, to judge that a thousand things are like; whereas to judge without fear of being mistaken, that a thousand Objects differ with one another, there is an absolute Necessity of having a thousand different Idea's present to the Mind.

Men therefore imagine things of a different Nature, to be of the same, and that all things of the same Species, hardly differ from one another. They judge that unequal things, are equal; that those which are inconstant, are constant; that such as are without Order or Proportion, are best order'd, and most proportionate. In a word, they believe often that things different in Nature, in Quality, Extension, Duration, and Proportion, are alike in all these particulars: But this deserves to be explain'd more at large by some Examples, as being the the Cause of an infinite number of Errors.

Spirit and Body, a Substance that Thinks, and a Substance that's Extended, are two kinds of Being altogether different, and intirely opposite: what belongs to one, can't appertain to the other: Yet Men for the most part but little heeding the Idea they have of Thought, and being continually mov'd and affected with Bodies, have look'd upon the Soul and Body, as only one and the same thing; have imagin'd a Similitude between things, so unlike in every respect. They would have the Soul to be material; that is to say, extended over all the Body, and figur'd as the Body. And thus have attributed to the Mind, what can belong to nothing but the Body.

Again, Men having the Sensation of Pleasure, Pain, Smells, Tasts, &c. and their Body being more present to them, than their Soul; (that is, they easily imagine their Body, but are not able to imagine the Soul,) they attribute to it the Faculties of Sensation, Imagination, [Page] and sometimes give it that of Conception too; which can belong to nothing but the Soul. But the following Examples will be more sensible and manifest.

Tis certain that all Natural Bodies, even those that are rank'd under the same Species, differ from one another: that one piece of Gold is not altogether like another piece, that one drop of Water is different from another drop. 'Tis with all Bodies of the same Species, as 'tis with Faces: All Faces have two Eyes, a Nose, a Mouth, &c. they are all Faces, and Humane Faces; yet it may be affirm'd there never were two perfectly similar. So one piece of Gold has parts extreamly like another piece; and one drop of Water has undoubtedly a near resemblance to another, yet we may be certify'd that two drops of Water cannot be given, though taken from the same River, in an exact resemblance. Nevertheless, the Philosophers inconsiderately suppose Essential Likenesses between Bodies of the same Species, or Likenesses that consist in Indivisibili: For the Essences of things center in an indivisible Point, according to their false Opinion.

The Reason of their lapsing into so gross and palpable an Error, is because they will not with any care consider those very things, on wich thy compose huge and mighty Volumes. For as we don't fancy a perfect Similitude in Faces, because we scrupulously behold them, and survey them closely; and the custom we have taken of distinguishing them, makes us observe the least differences: So if the Philosophers consider'd Nature with attention, they would acknowledge sufficient causes of diversities, even in those things which produce the same Sensations, and which for that Reason we ascribe to the same Species; and would not so credulously suppose Essential Resemblances. Blind Men would be to blame to suppose Essential Similitudes consisting in Indivisibili between Faces, because they did not sensibly perceive the differences: And Philosophers have no more reason to suppose such Similitudes in Bodies of the same Species, because they discover no differences in them by the Sensations they have of them.

The Inclination we have for supposing a Likeness in things inclines us farther to believe there is a set and determinate number of Differences, and Forms; and that these Forms are fix'd to a Point, and incapable of Latitude, more or less. We think that all Bodies differ from each other as in Degrees and that these Degrees, also retain certain Proportions together. In a word, we judge of Material things as of Numbers.

Tis' clearly manifest, that this proceeds from the Mind's losing it self in the Relations of things incommensurable, as are the infinite Differences to be met with in Natural Bodies, and its solacing it self with the Imagination of any Resemblance or Proportion it can find between them; because then it can represent many things at once with much readiness, and ease. For, as I have already said, there needs no more than one Idea to judge that many things are like, but there must be many to judge they are unlike each other. If a Man knew, for instance, the number of Angels; and that for each Angel there were ten Arch-Angels; and for every Arch-Angel ten Thrones; and so on, observing the same Proportion in the progression up to the highest Order of Intelligences: the Mind might know when it pleas'd the number of all these Blessed Spirits, and even by a good strong reflection, determine of them almost at a single view; which is infinitely delightful to it. And this is what may have induc'd some Persons to judge thus of Celestial Spirits; as some Philosophers have done in another case, of the Gravitation and Levitation of the Elements, making a Decuple Proportion between them, supposing Fire ten times lighter than Air; and so of the rest.

When the Mind finds a necessity of admitting Differences between Bodies, by the different Sensations it has of them, and for some other particular Reasons; it is sure to allow as little as possibly it can. 'Tis upon this account it is easily perswaded, that the Essences of things are in Indivisibili, and that they are like Numbers, as we have said before; for that then it requires only one Idea to represent all the Bodies that go under the name of the same Species.

If you put, for example, a Glass of Water into an Hogshead of Wine, the Philosophers will tell you, the Essence of Wine still remains the same, and the Water is converted into Wine. That as no number can intervene between three and four, since a true Unity is indivisible, so 'tis necessary the Water should be converted into the Essence or Nature of the Wine, or that the Wine should lose its own: That as all Numbers of Four are perfectly alike, so the Essence of Water is exactly the same in all Waters. That as the Number Three Essentially differs from the Number Two, and cannot have the same Properties; so two Bodies differing in Specie, differ Essentially, and in such wise, as they can never have the same Properties which flow from the Essence; and such like things as these: Whereas if Men consider'd the true Idea's of things any thing attentively, they would not be long a discovering, that all Bodies being extended; their Nature or Essence has nothing in't like Numbers, and that 'tis impossible for it to consist in Indivisibili.

But Men not only suppose Identity, Similitude, or Proportion in the Nature, the Number, and essential Differences of Substances, but in every thing that comes under their Perception. Most Men conclude that all the fix'd Stars, are fastned as so many Nails in the mighty Vault of Heaven, in an equal distance and convexity from the Earth. The Astronomers have for a long time given out, that the Planets rowl in exact Circles; whereof they have invented [Page] a plentiful number, as Concentric, Excentric, Epicycles, Deferent, and Equant, to explain the Phenomena that contradict their Prejudice.

'Tis true, in the last Ages, the more Ingenious have corrected the Errors of the Ancients, and believe that the Planets describe Ellipses, by their Motion. But if they would have us believe that these Ellipses are regular, as we are easily inclin'd to do; (because the Mind supposes Regularity, where it perceives no Irregularity) they fall into an Error so much harder to be corrected, as the Observations that can be made upon the Course of the Planets, want Exactness and Justness, to shew the Irregularity of their Motions: which Error nothing but Physicks can remedy; as being infinitely less observable, than that which occurs in the Systeme of exact Circles.

But there is one thing of more particular occurrence, relating to the Distance and Motion of the Planets; which is, that the Astronomers not being able to discover an Arithmetical or Geometrical Proportion, that being manifestly repugnant to their Observations, some of them have imagin'd they observ'd a kind of Proportion, which they term Harmonical, in their Distances and Motions. Hence it was that an Astronomer of this Age, in his New Almagistus, begins a Section intitul'd,Riccioli 2. Vol. Nemo est paulo eruditior in Astronomicis, qui Coelorum ordinem contemplatus, non agnoscat Harmoniam quandam in Planetarum intervallis & motibus. De Systemate Mundi Harmonico, with these words; There is no Man that's never so little vers'd in Astronomy, but must acknowledge a kind of Harmony in the motion and intervals of the Planets, if he attentively considers the Order of the Heavens. Not that he was of that Opinion; for the Observations that have been made, gave him sufficiently to understand the extravagance of that imaginary Harmony, which has yet been the Admiration of many Authors Ancient and Modern; whose Opinions are related and refuted by Father Riccioli. It is attributed likewise to Pythagoras and his Followers, to have believ'd, That the Heavens by their Regular Motions, made a wonderful Melody, which Men could not hear, by reason of their being us'd to it: As those, says he, that dwell near the Cataracts of the Waters of Nile, hear not the noise of them. But I only bring this particular Opinion of the Harmonical Proportion between the Distances and Motions of the Planets, to shew that the Mind is fond of Proportions, and that it often imagines them where they are not.

The Mind also supposes Uniformity in the Duration of things, and imagines they are not liable to Change, and Instability; when it is not as it were forc'd by the Testimonies and report of Sence, to judge otherwise.

All Material things being extended, are capable of Division, and consequently of Corruption. And every one that makes never so little reflection on the Nature of Bodies, must sensibly perceive their Corruptibility. And yet there have been a multitude of Philosophers who believ'd the Heavens, though Material, were Incorruptible.

The Heavens are too remote from our Eyes, to discover the Changes which happen in them; and there seldom any great enough fall out, to be seen upon Earth; which has been sufficient warrant to a great many Persons to believe they were really incorruptible. What has been a farther confirmation of their Opinion, is their attributing to the Contrariety of Qualities, the Corruption incident to Sublunary Bodies. For having never been in the Heavens, to see how things were carried on there, they have had no Experience of that contrariety of Qualities being to be found therein, which has induc'd them to believe there were actually no such thing. And hence have concluded the Heavens were exempt from Corruption, upon this Reason, That what according to their Notion, corrupts Sublunary Bodies, is not to be found in the higher Regions of the World.

'Tis plain that this Arguing has nothing of solidity: for we see no Reason why there may not be found some other Cause of Corruption, besides that contrariety of Qualities which they imagine: nor upon what grounds they can affirm, There is neither Heat nor Cold, neither Drought nor Moisture in the Heavens, that the Sun is not hot, nor Saturn cold.

There is some probability of Reason to say, That very hard Stones, and Glass, and other Bodies of like Nature, are not corrupted, since we see they subsist a long time, in the same Capacity; and we are near enough to observe the Changes that should happen to them. But while we are at such a Distance from the Heavens, as we are, it's absolutely against all Reason to conclude they don't corrupt, because we perceive no contrary Qualities in them, nor can see them corrupting; and yet they don't only say, they don't corrupt, but that they are unchangeable and incorruptible: And, a little more, the Peripateticks would maintain, That Celestial Bodies were so many Divinities, as their Master Aristotle did believe them.

The Beauty of the Universe consists not in the Incorruptibility of its parts, but in the Variety that is found in them; and this great Work of the World, would have something wanting to its Admirable Perfection, without that Vicissitude of things that is observ'd in it. A Matter infinitely extended, without Motion, and consequently rude and without Form, and without Corruption, might perhaps manifest the infinite Power of its Author, but could give no Idea of his Wisdom. And for this reason all Corporeal things are corruptible; and there is no Body whatever, whereunto there happens not some Change, which alters and corrupts it in process of Time.Journal of the Learned Aug. 9▪ 1666. GOD forms even in the Bowels of Stones and Glass, Creatures more perfect and admirable, than all the Works of Men. These Bodies though extreamly hard and dry, fail not however to corrupt in Time: The Air and the Sun, which they are expos'd to, [Page] change some of their parts; and there are found Worms to feed on them, as Experience manifests.

There is no other difference between very hard and very dry Bodies, and others, than that the former are compos'd of very Gross and Solid parts, and consequently less capable of being agitated, and separated from each other, by the motion of those that beat against them; which makes us look upon them as incorruptible. Notwithstanding they are not so in their Nature, as Time, Experience, and Reason sufficiently evince.

But as to the Heavens, they are constituted of a more fluid and subtile matter; and especially the Sun, which is so far from wanting Heat, and being incorruptible, as say Aristotle's Disciples, that [...]n the contrary, it is the hottest of all Bodies, and most subject to change. 'Tis he that warms, that agitates, and changes all things. For 'tis he that produces by his Action, which is no other than his Heat or the motion of his Parts, all that appears new in the changes of the Seasons: Reason demonstrates these things: But▪ though Reason may be withstood, yet Experience cannot. For, since we have discover'd in the Sun, by the help of a Telescope, or large Glasses, stains or scurf as big as all the Earth, which have been form'd upon him, and dissipated in a short time: It can no longer be doubted, but he is more subject to change, than the Earth which we inhabit.

All Bodies then are under a perpetual flux, and continual change; and especially those that are most fluid, as Fire, Air, and Water; next the parts of living Bodies, as Flesh and also Bones, and lastly the most hard: and the Mind is not to suppose a kind of Immutability in things, because it sees not Corruption or Change in them: For 'tis no Argument that a thing continues always like it self, because we can discover no difference in it: nor that things do not exist, because we have no Knowledge or Idea of them.

CHAP. XI.

Instances of some Errors of Morality, which depend on the same Principle.

THIS Easiness and Propensity of the Mind, to imagine and suppose Likeness, whereever it does not visibly perceive Difference, engages the generality of Men in most dangerous Errors in point of Morality. Some instances whereof are these.

A French Man falls in Company of an English Man, or an Italian: This Stranger has particular Humours of his own; he has a Fineness and Delicacy of Wit; or if you had rather, is arrogant and troublesom. This shall forthwith incline the French Man to judge that all English Men or Italians have the same Character of Mind, as the Man that he has met with; and make him praise them, or discommend them all in general: And if he meets with another, he is immediately prepossessed with a Notion of his being like the former, and he gives way to some Affection, or secret Aversion on his Account. In a word, he will judge of all the particulars of these Nations, from the notable proof he has taken from one or two, that had such certain Qualities of Mind; because having no Information, elsewhere of their Difference he supposes them all alike.

A Regular of some Order, falls into some enormity, and this is sufficient with the generality of those that know him, to condemn indifferently all the Members of the same Society. They all wear the same Habit, and bear the same Name: they are alike in this, and there needs no more grounds for Vulgar-rate-men, to imagine they are so in every thing, The Reason why they suppose them alike, is because they cannot pierce into the bottom of their Hearts, and see wherein they positively differ.

Slanderers who study for means of blasting the Reputation of their Enemies, commonly make use of this; and Experience verifies that it generally succeeds. And indeeed it is most suited and proportioned to the Vulgar standard and capacity. For 'tis not sufficient to find in numerous Communities, as holy as they are, some Persons disorderly in Manners, or unorthodox in Opinion: since in the Company of the Apostles, whereof JESVS CHRIST Himself was the Head, there was found a Robber, a Traitor, an Hypocrite; and in a word, a Judas.

The Jews doubtless had been much to blame, had they pass'd hard and disadvantagious Censures upon the most Holy Society that ever was, because of the Avarice and Corruption of Judas; and had they condemn'd them all in their Heart, because they suffer'd so wicked a wretch in their Company; and our LORD let him go unpunished, though he knew his Crimes.

'Tis then a manifest repugnance to Reason, and breach of Charity, to suppose a whole Community in an Error, from some private Person's being engag'd in it; even though the Heads conniv'd at it, or perhaps were Partisans and Abbetters. 'Tis true, when all the Particulars [Page] will uphold an Error, or justifie the Fault of their Brother, the whole Fraternity is to be concluded culpable: but it may be said, that this but rarely happens. For it seems Morally impossible for all the Particulars of an Order to have Thoughts and Sentiments alike.

Men should never in this manner conclude a General, from a Particular: but they cannot judge simply of what they see, but run to an extream on one side or other. A Regular of such an Order, is a Great Man, or a good Man; from hence they infer that the whole Order is full of Great or Good Men. So a Regular of an Order is unsound, and Heterodox, therefore the whole Order is Corrupt and Heterodox. But these last Judgments are much more dangerous than the former; because we should always judge charitably of our Neighbour, and the malice and ill-nature of Men, make hard Censures and Discourses, meant for the Dis-repute of others, more pleasant and welcome, and imprint them deeper on the Mind, than such Judgments and Discourses, as are made to their Advantage.

When a Man of the World, who is addicted to his Passions, sticks resolutely to his Opinion, and pretends whilst his Passion is high, that he has Reason to follow it, he is deservedly concluded Stubborn, and Opinionated; and he will acknowledge it himself, when his Passion is over. So when a Man of Piety, who is penetrated with what he says, who is convinced of the Truth of Religion, and of the Vanity of Worldly things, goes upon the strength of his Lights and Knowledge, to withstand the Corruptions and Disorders of others, and reprimands them with some Fervency and Zeal: Worldly Men judge him also to be an Opiniastre; and so conclude all Devoutness, Wilfulness and Bigottry. Nay they think the Vertuous and Good, more Opinionated, than the Vicious and Wicked: Because these latter urging their Corrupt Opinions, as they are buoy'd up by the different commotions of their Blood and Passions; stay not long in the same Sentiments, but desert them: Whereas the Religious remain constant, and immovable in theirs, as being built upon fixed and unshaken Foundations, which depend not on any thing so wavering, as the Circulation of the Blood.

See now the reason why the common sort of People judge the Pious and Vertuous, as Opinionated as the Vicious; Which is, That Good Men are as Passionate for Truth and Vertue, as Wicked Men for Vice and Falshood. Both one and the other talk much after the same Manner, in defending their Opinions: In this they are alike, though they differ in the Main.

But this is enough for the World, that is unable to distinguish their Reasons, and acknowledge the Difference, to judge them Alike in every thing; because they are Alike in that external way, whereof every body is a competent Judge.

The Godly then are not Obstinate and Opinionated, they are only Constant as they ought to be. But the Vicious and Licentious, are ever Opinionated, though they continue but an Hour in their Opinion, For those are the Opinionated only, who defend a False Opinion, though they defend it but a little time.

The case is much the same with some Philosophers, who maintain Chimerical Opinions; which they afterwards reject. They would have others who defend certain Truths, the certainty whereof they plainly see, to quit them as Naked Opinions, as themselves have done those they were impertinently conceited with. And because 'tis not easie to pay Deference to them to the prejudice of Truth; and the Love a Man naturally has for her, makes him heartily espouse her, they judge this Man an Opiniastre.

Those Persons would be to blame, obstinately to defend their Chimera's; but the others are to be commended for maintaining Truth with Strength and Resolution of Mind: The Manner of them both is the same, but the Sentiments are different: And 'tis this Difference of Sentiments, which makes the one Constant, and the other Obstinate, and Opiniated.

The Conclusion of the Three First Books.

FROM the Beginning of this Treatise, I have distinguish'd, as it were, two Parts in the Simple and Indivisible Essence of the Soul, one whereof was purely Passive; the other both Active and Passive together. The First is the Mind or Vnderstanding; the Second is the Will: I have attributed to the Mind three Faculties; because it receives its Modifications and its Idea's from the Author of Nature three several ways. I have called it Sense, when it receives from GOD Idea's confounded with Sensations; that is, Sensible Idea's, upon occasion of some Motions happening in the Organs of the Senses, by the Presence of Objects. I nam'd it Imagination and Memory, when it receiv'd from GOD Idea's confounded with Images; which make a sort of languid and feeble Sensa [...]ions, which [Page] the Mind receives only from some Traces, produc'd or excited in the Brain, by the Course of the Animal Spirits. Lastly, I call'd it Pure Mind, or Pure Intellect, when it receives from GOD the All-pure Idea's of Truth, without any mixture of Sensations and Images; not by the Union it hath with the Body, but with that it has with the WORD, or WISDOM of GOD: not because it exists in the Material and Sensible World, but because it subsists in the Immaterial and Intelligible World: not for the knowing Mutable things, that are fit for the Preservation of Corporeal Life; but for piercing into Immutable Truths, which conserve in us the Life of the Spirit.

I have shewn in the First and Second Book, That our Senses and Imagination are very useful to the knowing the Relations External Bodies have to our own; that all the Idea's the Mind receives by means of the Body, are for the Interest of the Body: that 'tis impossible to discover any Truth whatever, with Evidence, by the Idea's of the Senses and Imagination; that these confus'd Idea's are of use only in uniting us to our Body, and by our Body, to all sensible things: and that lastly, if we desir'd to avoid Error, we should not credit their Reports: I concluded likewise, That it was Morally impossible to know by the pure Idea's of the Mind, the Relations which Bodies have with our own: that we ought not to reason upon these Idea's, to know whether an Apple, or a Stone, are good to eat; but the way to know, is to try by Tasting: And that though we may employ our Intellect, for obtaining a confus'd Knowledge of the Relations foreign Bodies have with ours; 'tis always the surest way to make use of our Senses. I give one Instance more, since so necessary and essential things cannot be too deeply imprinted on the Mind.

I have a Mind to examine, for Example, Whether 'tis more advantagious to be Just or Rich. If I open the Eyes of my Body, Justice looks like a Chimaera, I see no Allurements that it has. The Just I see miserable, deserted, persecuted, naked of Defence, and destitute of Comfort: For He that is their Comforter and Supporter, is not apparent to my Eyes: In a word, I see not what use Justice and Vertue can be put to. But if I contemplate Riches with my Eyes open, I presently see the Lustre and Splendor of them, and am dazl'd. Power, Greatness, Pleasure, and all sensible Goods, are the Retinue and Attendants of Wealth; and I have no room to doubt but a Man must be Rich, if he will be happy. Again, If I employ my Ears; I hear how all Men have Riches in Esteem; and that their Talk is only about ways of acquiring them; and that they are constantly giving Praises, Incense, and Honour to those that possess them. This Sense then, and all the rest inform me, that I must be Rich, before I can be Happy. But let me shut my Eyes, and stop my Ears, and only interrogate my Imagination, and it will constantly represent what my Eyes had seen, what they had read, and what my Ears had heard, to the Advantage and Commendation of Riches; but it will represent them in a quite other manner, than my Senses: For the Imagination always augments the Idea's of those things which are related to the Body, and are the Objects of our Love. If I resign my self to its Conduct, it will presently lead me into an Inchanted Palace, much what the same with those celebrated by Poets and Romancers, in magnificent Descriptions; and here I shall be ravish'd in gazing on those Beauties, that need not be describ'd, which will convince me, that the God of Riches that inhabits it, is the only capable of making me Happy. Lo here, what my Body is able to perswade me, for it speaks only on its own behalf; and 'tis necessary to its welfare, that the Imagination bow beneath the Grandeur, and prostrate it self before the Lustre of Riches.

But if I consider, that the Body is infinitely inferiour to the Mind; that it is not its Master, nor can instruct it in Truth, nor any ways illuminate it; and if upon this Scene and Prospect I re-enter into, or enquire of my self, or rather (since I am neither my own Master, nor my own Light) if I approach unto GOD, and in the calm and silence of my Senses and Passions, make this Demand, Whether Riches or Vertue is preferable? I shall hear a clear and distinct Answer, concerning what is to be done; an Eternal Answer, that has been always given, and which is, and always will be: an Answer that's not necessary to be explain'd, since every body know it; such as read this, and such as do not read it; which is neither Greek, nor Latin, nor French, nor German, but which all Nations under Heaven understand: An Answer lastly, that consolates the Just in their Poverty, and desolates Sinners in the abundance of their Riches. I shall hear this Answer, and remain convinc'd; and then shall laugh at the Visions of my Imagination, and the Delusions of my Senses. The Internal Man that is in me, shall ridicule the Animal and Terrestrial Man, that I carry about me. In fine, the New Man shall thrive, and the Old Man shall be destroy'd; provided in the mean time I continually obey the Voice of Him, who delivers Himself so clearly, in the most secret recess of my Reason; and who becoming sensible to accommodate Himself to my Weakness and Disease, and to give me Life by that which gave me Death, speaks to me anew, in a most strong and lively, and familiar way by my Senses; I mean by the preaching of His Gospel: But if I interrogate Him in all Metaphysical, Natural, and purely Philosophical Questions, as well as those which respect the Rule of Manners, I shall always have a faithful Master, who will never deceive me. I shall not only be a Christian, but a Philosopher; I shall be a sound Thinker, and a Lover of what is Good: In a word, I shall follow the Road that leads me to all Perfection I am capable of, either by Nature or by Grace.

[Page]We ought then to conclude from all that has been said, that to make the best use possible of the Faculties of our Soul, of our Senses, Imagination, and Vnderstanding; we must apply them only to those things, for which they were given us. We ought carefully to distinguish our Sensations and Imaginations, from our Pure Idea's; and judge by the former of the Relations our Body has with those about us; but never make use of them in discovering Truths, which they always confound. Whereas Pure Idea's must be us'd in the finding out of Truths, but omitted, when we judge of the Correspondencies between Exteriour Bodies, and our own: because their Idea's have never reach and extent enough, to give a thorough Representation of them.

'Tis impossible for Men to have sufficient Knowledge of all the Figures and Motions of the little parts of their Body and Blood; and of those of a particular Fruit; at a certain Season of their Sickness, to know whether there is a Relation of Agreement between that Fruit and their Body;See the Illustrations. and that if they eat of it they shall recover: Thus our Senses alone are more useful for the Conversation of our Body, than the Rules of Experimental Medicine; and Experimental Medicine, than Theoretical. But Theoretical Medicine, that deferrs much to Experience, and more to the Senses, is the best of all. Because all these should be caball'd together.

Reason then is of universal use; and this is the Privilege it obtains over the Senses and Imagination, which are limited and con [...]in'd to Sensible things: yet this is to be regularly employ'd; for though it be the principal part of Our selves, it often happens to deceive us, by our letting it act too much; because it cannot act enough without tiring; I mean it cannot know enough to make a right Judgment, and yet it will still be judging.

F. MALEBRANCHE's TREATISE Concerning the SEARCH after TRUTH. BOOK IV. Concerning the Inclinations, or Natural Motions of the Mind.

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CHAP. I.

I. Inclinations are as necessary to Spirits, as Motions to Bodies. II. GOD gives no Motion to Spirits, but what tends towards Himself. III. The Tendency Spirits have to particular Goods, proceeds but from their Motion towards Good in general. IV. The Original of our chiefest Natural Inclinations: Which will make up the Division of this Fourth Book.

THERE had been no occasion of Treating on the Natural Inclinations, which are to be the Subject of this Fourth Book, nor on the Passions, which I am to speak to in the Fifth, to discover the Causes of our Errours, did not the Understanding depend on the Will, in the Perception of Objects. But because the Understanding receives its Direction from the Will, and is determin'd and fix'd by it, rather to some Objects than others: in order to penetrate into the Causes of the Errours whereunto we are subject, it will be absolutely necessary to be well acquainted with the Nature of our Inclinations.

Had God in the Creation of the World, produc'd a Matter infinitely Extended,I. Inclinations are as necessary to Spirits, as Motions to Bodies. without imprinting on it any Motion, there had been no diversity in Bodies. The whole Visible World at this day, would have been nothing but an unweildy Mass of Matter, or Extension, which might perhaps have serv'd to shew the Greatness and Power of its Author; but wanting that Succession of Forms, and Variety of Bodies, wherein the Beauty of the Universe consists, would have little to invite Spiritual Beings to admire, and adore the Infinite Wisdom of its Governour.

Now the Inclinations of Spirits seem to be in the Spiritual World, what the Motions of Bodies are in the Material: and that if Spirits had no Inclinations or Volitions, that Variety would be wanting to the Order of Spiritual things, which not only excites to the Admiration of the profound Wisdom of God, (as does the diversity observ'd in Material things,) but also of his Mercy, Justice, and Goodness, and all his other Attributes in general. The difference then of Inclinations, has an Effect in Spirits much like that which the diversity of Motions produces in Bodies: and the Inclinations of Spirits, together with the Motions of Bodies, make up all the Beauty of Created Beings. So that 'tis requisite for the former to have several Inclinations, as for the latter to have different Motions. But let us try to discover what Inclinations these ought to be.

Were not our Nature corrupted, we should not need to seek by Reason, as we are now to do, what should be the Natural Inclinations of Created Spirits. We need but have descended into our own Breast, to have discover'd, by an inward Feeling, or Self-consciousness of what passes within us, all the Inclinations we ought Naturally to have. But since we are taught by Faith, that Sin has inverted the Order of Nature, and even by Reason, that our Inclinations are disorder'd, as we shall see better in the sequel, we are oblig'd to another course. For our Sensations being [Page] not to be credited, we are forc'd to explain things in an higher and more transcendent manner; but such as will doubtless seem Chimerical to those who take the Estimate of all things from the Senses.

II. God having no other Principal End of his Actions, than himself, gives no Motion to Spirits, but what tends towards himself.'Tis an undeniable Truth, That God can have no other Principal End of his Actions, than Himself: and that he may have many Subordinate Ends, tending all to the Preservation of the Beings he has created. He can have no Principal End besides Himself; because, being not liable to Errour, he cannot place his ultimate End in Beings that include not all sorts of Perfection. But he may have a less Principal, namely, the Preservation of Created Beings; because all partaking of His Goodness, are necessarily Good, or in the Style of Scripture Valde Bona. And therefore God loves them; and 'tis His Love that preserves them: for their Subsistence is wholly owing to the Love of God. Diligis omnia quae sunt, says the Wise Man, & nihil odisti eoru [...] quae fecisti: nec enim odiens aliquid constituisti & fecisti. Quomodo autem posset aliquid permanere, nisi Tu voluisses, aut quod a te vocatum non esset conservaretur? And indeed 'tis unconceivable, that things should subsist, which are not pleasing to an infinitely Perfect and Omnipotent Being; since all things have their Subsistence only from His Will. God therefore Wills His Glory, as the Principal End; and the Preservation of His Creatures, only for His Glory.

Natural Inclinations of Spirits, being undoubtedly the constant Impressions of the Will of Him, who has Created and Preserves them, must, we may conclude, be entirely like those of their Creatour and Preserver. Wherefore they naturally can have no other Principal End, than His Glory; nor any other Second End, than their own, and others Preservation: but this still with reference to him who gives them their Being. For in brief, it seeming undeniable that God cannot Will that the Wills He has Created should love a Less Good, more than a Greater; that is, should love what is less amiable, more than what is more so; it is impossible for Him to Create any Creature, without Directing it towards Himself, and commanding it to love Him more than all things else; though He may create it Free, and with a Power of disengaging it self, and diverting from Him.

III. The Tendency Spirits have to Particular Goods, proceeds from their Motion towards Good in general.As there is but One Love properly in God, that is, the Love of Himself; and as He can love nothing but by that Love, since He can love nothing but with reference to Himself. So He imprints but one Love in us, which is the Love of Good in general: and we can love nothing but through that Love, since we can love nothing but what's a Real or Apparent Good. This Love of Good in general is the Principle of all our particular Affections, since this Love is really nothing but our Will: The Will of Man, as I have said before, being only the Continual Impression of the Author of Nature, which carries the Mind towards Good in general. Surely we ought not to imagine that this Power of Loving either proceeds from, or depends on our selves; on whom only depends the Power of Loving wrong, or rather of Rightly Loving Evil things: because being Free, we can determine, and do actually determine to particular, and consequently false Goods, the Good Love wherewith God continually influences our Souls, as long as He preserves them.

But not only our Will, or our Love for Good in general, comes from God; our Inclinations likewise for particular Goods, which are common to, though unequally strong in all Men, (such as the Inclination for the Preservation of our Being, and that of others, to whom Nature has united us) are the Impressions of the Will of God upon us: For I term indifferently natural Inclination all the Impressions of the Author of Nature, that are common to all Created Spirits.

I have been saying, that God loves his Creatures, and that 'tis this His Love that both gives and preserves their Being:IV. The Original of the chiefest Natural Inclinations, which will make up the Division of this Fourth Book. and whereas he continually imprints on us a Love like His own, (since His Will both makes, and governs ours,) He gives us all those Natural Inclinations, which depend not on our Choice, and which necessarily dispose us to the preserving our own, and our Neighbour's Being.

For though Sin has corrupted all things, it has not utterly destroy'd them. Though our Natural Inclinations have not always God for their End, by the free Choice of our Will; yet they always have by the Institution of Nature: since God who both produces and preserves these Inclinations in us, does it only for Himself. For all Sinners tend to God, by the Impression they receive of Him; though they recede from Him by the Errour and deviation of their Mind. They love well, it being impossible to love ill, whilst God is the Author of Love: but they love Evil things; Evil, only because God, who gives Sinners the Power of Loving, forbids their loving them, by reason of their withdrawing Men, ever since the Fall, from the Love of Himself. For whilst they imagine that the Creatures are the Cause of the Pleasure and Pain they feel, or receive Occasionally from them, they run furiously to the embracing these Bodies, and so fall into an utter Oblivion of God, who is not Visible to their Fyes.

We have still then the same Natural Inclinations, or Impressions of the Author of Nature, as Adam had before his fall. We have even the same Inclinations as the Blessed have in Heaven: For God neither makes, nor preserves any Creatures, but He possesses them with a Love like His own. He loves Himself, and us, and all His Creatures: and therefore Creates no Spirits, but withall inclines them to love God, Themselves, and all the Creatures.

But as all our Inclinations are only the Impressions of Nature's Author, which carry us to love Him, and all things for His sake, they can never be regular, but when we love God with all our Strength, and all things for the sake of God, by a Free and Premeditate Choice of our Will: [Page] For 'tis Injustice and Abusing the Love of God, which he gives us for Himself, to lay it out on any thing besides, or without Relation to him.

And thus we now know not only what are our Natural Inclinations, but also what they ought to be, to become regular, and as they were instituted by their Author. For all the Disorders of our Inclinations, have no other Root than this, that we fix our Ultimate End in Our selves, and instead of referring all to God, center all things upon Self.

First then, we have an Inclination for Good in general, which is the Principle of all our Natural Inclinations, all our Passions, and all the Free Affections of our Will.

Secondly, we have an Inclination for the Preservation of our own Being, or Welfare.

Thirdly, we have an Inclination for other Creatures; which are either useful to our selves, o [...] those we love. We have yet many other particular Inclinations which depend on these, which probably we may treat of elsewhere. In this Fourth Book my only Design is to reduce the Errours of our Inclinations to three Heads, to the Inclination we have for Good in general, to Love of of Our selves, and of our Neighbour.

CHAP. II.

I. The Inclination for Good in general, is the Principle of the Restlesness of of the Will. II. And consequently of our Inadvertency and Ignorance. III. The first Instance, (shewing that) Morals are but little known by the generality of Men. IV. The second Instance, (shewing that) the Immortality of the Soul is controverted by some People. V. That we are in extreme Ignorance, in point of Abstract things; and which have but little reference to us.

THAT vast Capacity which the Will has for all Goods in general,I. The Inclination for Good in general, is the Principle of the Restlesness of the Will. by reason of its being made for a Good that comprehends in it all Goods, can't be fill'd by all the things the Mind represents to it; and yet the continual Motion which God impresses it withall, is never stopt; which necessarily gives a perpetual Disturbance and agitation to the Mind. The Will which seeks after what it desires, obliges the Understanding to represent all sorts of Objects: which when represented by the Understanding, the Soul cannot taste; or if she tastes, she remains unsatisfied. She cannot taste them, because the View of the Mind is seldom accompanied with Pleasure, which is the Seasoning, whereby the Soul relishes her Good; and she is not satisfied, because nothing can stop the Motion of the Soul, except the Author of the Impression: Whatever the Mind represents, as the Good of the Soul, is finite; and whatever is finite, may detain her Love for a moment, but cannot fix it. When new and extraordinary Objects come under the consideration of the Mind, or such as have a Character of Infinite, the Will gladly bears with an attentive Discussion for some time, as hoping to find what she is in Search of; because that which appears Infinite, bears the Signature of its real Good? but after a while, is disgusted with this, as with the rest, and leaves it. Hence it is ever restless and fluctuating, because it is fated to seek what it never can find, though always in hopes of: And it loves whatever is Great, Extraordinary, and Infinite; because having miss'd of its true Good, in common and familiar things, it fancies it may be found in such as are unknown. We shall shew in this Chapter, that the Restlessness of our Will is one of the Principal Causes of our Ignorance, and the Errours we are guilty of, upon infinite subjects, and in the two following, shall explain what it is that breeds that our Inclination for all that's Great, and Extraordinary.

First, It is plain enough from what has been said, That the Will is only solicitous to apply the Understanding to those Objects which are related to us, and is very negligent as to the rest:II. And consequently of our Inadvertency and Ignorance. For that being by a Natural Impression, ever longing and Impatient after Happiness, it turns the Understanding only upon those things, which afford us Pleasure and Advantage.

Secondly, That the Will permits not the Understanding to busie it self long, even about things that afford some Pleasure; because, as has been said, all Created things may please us for a season, but they quickly grow distastful, and then our Mind declines them, and takes new ways to other Delights, and Satisfactions.

Thirdly, That the Will is prompted to put the Understanding on these desultory advances from Object to Object, from that confus'd, and as it were, distant Representation the Understanding gives of Him; who includes in Himself all Beings? as has been said in the Third Book. For the Will desiring, as I may so speak, to bring its real good closer, so as to be affected by it, and to receive its quickning Motion; excites the Understanding, to represent it by peice-meal: But then this is no longer the General, the Universal, and infinitely Perfect Being, which the Mind perceives; but something of a limited and imperfect Nature, which the Will speedily abandons, as finding it unable to stops Its Motion, and please It any considerable time, and so pursues after another Object.

Mean while, the Advertency and Application of the Mind, being absolutely necessary to the discovery of Truths ever so little abstruse, it is manifest that the Vulgar of Men, must be most grosly Ignorant, [Page] even in point of such things, as have some reference to them; but inconceivably Blind, as to all Abstract Truths, and to which they have no sensible Relation. But we must try to make these things manifest by some examples

III. The first Instance, (shewing that) Morals are but little known by the generality of Men.There is no Science that stands in so near a Relation to us, as Moral Philosophy: which teaches us our Duties to God and our King, our Kindred and Friends, and in general to all about us. Besides it points out the way we must follow to become eternally Happy: so that all Men are under an Essential Obligation, or rather an dispensible Necessity of resigning themselves to the Study of it. Notwithstanding Generations of Men have successively continued six thousand Years, and yet this Science is still very imperfect.

That part of Morals which respects our Duty to God, and which questionless is the Principal of all, as relating to Eternity, has been little known by Men of the greatest Learning; and there are still to be found Men of Sense, who have no Knowledge of it, though the easiest part of all Moral Philosophy. For first of all, What difficulty is there to find out the Existence of a God? Every of his works is a proof of it: All the Actions of Men and Beasts prove it: Whatever we think, whatever we see, whatever we feel, demonstrates it: In a word, there is nothing in the World but proves that there is a God; or at least may prove it, to Men of attentive Minds, who seriously betake themselves to Search after the Author of all things.

Again, it is evident that we must pursue the Orders of God, if we will be happy: For since He is Just and powerful, we cannot Disobey him, without being punish'd; nor obey Him, without a recompence. But what is it he requires of us? That we love Him, that our Thoughts be possess'd with Him, and our Heart set upon Him. For, what end had God in Creating Minds, and all things else? Certainly no other than Himself: So that being made for Him we are indispensibly oblig'd from diverting elsewhere the Impression of Love, which He perpetually maintains in us, in order to our perpetual loving Him.

These Truths are not very difficult to be discover'd by any attentive and considering Man; and yet this sole Moral Principle, That to become Vertuous and Happy, 'tis absolutely necessary to Love God above all things, and in all things, is the Foundation of all Christian Morality. Nor is there need of very great Application to deduce from thence all necessary Consequences, to settle the General Rules of our Behaviour; though few there are that do it; whilst daily Disputes arise about Questions of Morality, which are the immediate and necessary Results of so self-evident a Principle as this before us.

The Geometricians are continually making new Discoveries in their Science; and if they do not much advance it, 'tis because they have already drawn from their Principles, the most useful and necessary consequences: But the greatest part of Mankind, seem incapable of concluding any thing from the First Principle of Morals. All their Ideas vanish and dissipate, when their Will inclines them barely to consider it. Because they will not as they ought; and they will not as they ought, because they cannot taste it; or that having tasted it, are presently distasted. For 'tis an Abstract, Metaphysical, and purely Intellectual Principle, and not attainable by Sense or Imagination. And therefore seems to Carnal Eyes, or Minds that see no farther than their Eyes, to have no solidity. Nothing appears in this Principle likely to settle and compose the restless agitation of their Will, and thereupon to stop the View of their Mind, and fix it attentively on considering it. What hope then is there they should see it well, comprehend it right, and draw those direct Inferences from it which they ought?

Those who should have but an imperfect apprehension of this Geometrical Proposition, That the sides of Similar Triangles are proportional, could certainly be no great Geometricians: But if, besides that confus'd and imperfect Perception of that Fundamental Proposition of Geometry, they had some Interest, why the sides of Similar Triangles should not be proportional; and if False Geometry were as suitable to their perverse Inclinations as False Morals, we should see as absurd Paralogisms in Geometry as Morality; because their Errours would be pleasant to them, and Truth would only trouble, perplex, and confound them.

Hence we need not wonder at the Blindness of Men in former Ages, who liv'd whilst Idolatry flourish'd in the World, or of such as live at present unenlightned with the Sun-shine of the Gospel: It was needful for Eternal Wisdom to cloath it self with Sensibility, to instruct Men that enquire only of their Senses. Four thousand Years together Truth was manifested by speaking to their Mind; but not entring into themselves, they did not hear it; 'twas requisite therefore it should speak unto their Ears: The Light which enlightens all Men, shin'd upon their Darkness, without dispersing it; and they could not behold it. Intelligible Light must veil it self and become Visible: The Word must be made Flesh; and hidden and inaccessible. Wisdom must instruct Men in a Carnal manner; Carnaliter, says St. Bernard. The Generality of Men, and especially the Poor, [...]. 39. de Natali Domini. (who are the worthiest Object of their Creator's Mercy and Providence,) those who are oblig'd to labor for their Living, are extremely ignorant and stupid. They hear only because they have Ears, and see only because they have Eyes: But are incapable of retiring into themselves, by any Effort of Reason, there to examine Truth, in the silence of their Senses and their Passions. Truth they cannot apply to, because they cannot relish it; and commonly that application enters not their Heads, because they cannot think of applying themselves to unaffecting Objects. Their desultory and restless Will continually casts the View of their Mind upon all sensible Objects, the Variety of which is pleasant and diverting. For the Multiplicity and Diversity of Sensible Goods, serve to con [...]eal their Vanity, and to keep up our Hopes of finding among them the True Good, which we desire.

[Page]Thus though the Counsels which JESUS CHRIST, in quality of Man, of the Way, and of Author of our Faith, gives us in the Gospel, are much more proportion'd to the weakness of our Mind, than those which the same CHRIST, as He is Eternal Wisdom, Internal Truth, Intellectual Light, inspires into our most inward Reason; and though He renders these His Counsels delectable by His Grace, sensible by His Example, and convincing by His Miracles; yet Men are so stupid and inconsiderate, even as to things of greatest importance to be known, that they scarce ever think of them as behooves them. Not many perceive the Excellency of the Gospel, nor the Soundness and Necessity of the Precepts of our LORD; few there are that meditate on them, so as to nourish and strengthen the Soul by them: The continual tossing and agitation of the Will, which looks for the Enjoyment of Good, permitting not those Truths to be insisted on, which seem to deprive the Soul of it. Here follows another proof of what I am asserting.

Doubtless it much concerns, and lies upon the Wicked,IV. The second Instance, (shewing that) the Immortality of the Soul is controverted by some People. to know whether their Soul is Mortal, as they suppose it; or Immortal, as Faith and Reason assure: as being a thing of geatest moment and importance to them; since the Question lays their Eternity at stake, and the quiet of their Mind depends on the resolve. Whence comes it that they are ignorant, or doubtful in the matter, but from their want of serious Attention, and the Restlesness and Corruptness of their Will, not suffering the Mind to take a steady View of the Reasons which contradict the Opinion they wish to be true? For in brief, is it so difficult to discover the difference between the Body and Soul, betwixt a Thinking and an Extended thing? Must a Man bring so great an Attention to perceive that a Thought is neither Round nor Square; that Extention is capable only of different Figures and Motions; but not of Thought and Reasoning: and so, that what Thinks and what's Extended, are two Beings altogether opposite. And yet this is all that's requisite to demonstrate the Immortality of the Soul, and that she is not perishable, though the Body should be annihilated.

True it is, when a Substance perishes, that the Modes or Manners of its Existence perish with it: as were a piece of Wax annihilated, it is certain the Figures of that Wax would be annihilated also: because the Roundness, for instance, of the Wax is really nothing but the Wax it self, existing in such a manner, and so cannot subsist without the Wax, whose Mode it is. But though God should destroy all the Wax in the World, it would not follow from thence that any other Substance, or Modes of Substance should be annihilated. All Stones, for example, might subsist, together with their Modes: Because Stones are Substances or Beings, and not Modes of Being of the Wax.

So though God should annihilate the half of a Body, it would not follow that the other half was annihilated. The latter half is united to the other, but is not one with it. And therefore one half being annihilated, it might be reasonably inferr'd, that the other half was no longer related to it; but not that it did it self exist no longer: for being a different Being, it could not be reduc'd to nothing by the annihilation of the other. Thence 'tis manifest, that Thought being not the Modification of Extension, our Soul is not annihilated, on supposition that our Body were annihilated by Death.

But we have no reason to imagine that even the Body is annihilated, when it is destroy'd. The parts that make it up, are dissolv'd into Vapours, and reduc'd into Dust: we neither see nor know them any more, I confess; but we cannot hence conclude they exist not: For the Mind perceives them still. If we separate a Mustard-seed into two, or four, or twenty parts, we annihilate it to our Eyes, because we see it no longer: But 'tis not annihilated in it self, or to the Mind; for the Mind discerns it, though divided into a thousand, or an hundred thousand parts.

'Tis a common Notion, and receiv'd by all that use their Reason rather than their Senses, That nothing can be annihilated by the ordinary force of Nature. For as 'tis naturally impossible for something to be produc'd from nothing, so 'tis impossible for a Substance or Being to be reduc'd to nothing. Bodies indeed may corrupt, if you call Corruption the Changes that befall them, but cannot be annihilated. What is round, may become square; what is Flesh, may become Earth, Vapour, and whatever you please: for all Extention is capable of all sorts of Configuration: But the Substance of what is round, or Flesh, can never perish: There are certain settled Laws in Nature, by which Bodies change successively their Forms; because the successive Variety of these Forms, makes the Beauty of the Universe, and causes us to admire its Author. But there is no Law in Nature for the annihilation of any Being, because Nothingness, wants all Beauty, as well as Goodness; and the Author of Nature is the Lover of his works. Bodies then may change, but can never perish.

But if any one sticking to the Verdict of his Senses, shall obstinately maintain, that the dissolution of Bodies is a true Annihilation; because the parts they resolve into, are invisible: Let him do so much as remember that Bodies cannot be divided into these invisible parts, but by reason of their Extension. For if the Mind be not extended, it must be indivisible, and if indivisible, must be acknowledg'd incorruptible in that sense. But how can the Mind be imagin'd extended and divisible? A right Line will divide a Square into two Triangles, Parallelograms or Trapezia: But by what Line may a Pleasure, a Pain, or a Desire be conceiv'd to be divided? and what Figure would result from that Division? Certainly I cannot believe the Imagination so fruitful in false Ideas as to satisfie it self in this particular.

The Mind therefore is neither extended, nor divisible, nor susceptible of the same changes as the Body; and yet it must be own'd, that it is not immutable by its Nature. If the Body is capable of an infinite number of different Figures, and different Configurations; [Page] the Mind is likewise capable of a world of different Ideas, and different Modifications. And as after our Death, the Substance of our Flesh will resolve into Earth, Vapours, and infinite other Bodies, without annihilation; so our Soul without falling back into Nothing, will have Thoughts and Sensations very different from those she has during this Life. At present 'tis necessary that we live, and that our Body be compos'd of Flesh and Bone; and in order to live, 'tis necessary the Soul should have Ideas and Sensations, relating to the Body she is joyn'd to. But when she shall be divested of her Body, she shall enter upon a perfect Liberty of receiving all sorts of Ideas and Modifications, very different from those she has at present; as the Body on its part shall be free to receive all sorts of Figures and Canfigurations, nothing like those it is oblig'd to make the Body of a living Man.

It is, if I mistake not, manifest from what I have said, That the Immortality of the Soul is no such hard thing to comprehend. Whence comes it then, that so many doubt of it, but from their Inadvertency, and want of Attention to the Reasons that are requisite to convince them? or whence proceeds this negligence, but from the Unsetledness and Inconstancy of the Will, incessantly disturbing the Understanding? So as not to give it leasure for a distinct Preception, even of Ideas that are the most present to it, such as are those of Thought and Extension: as a Man in the heat of a Passion, casting his Eyes round about him, seldom distinguishes the Objects that are nearest, and most expos'd to View. For indeed the Question of the Immortality of the Soul, is one of the easiest to be resolv'd, when without listning to the Imagination, we bring the Mind attentively to consider, the clear and distinct Idea of Extension, and the Relation it can have with Thought.

If the Inconstancy and Levity of the Will, hinders the Understanding from piercing to the bottom of things that are most present to it, and of mightiest Importance to be known; 'tis easie to judge what greater Remoras it will afford the Mind, to prevent its Meditating on such as are Remote and Unconcerning. So that if we are under the Grossest Ignorance and Blindness, as to most things of greatest consequence to be known; I can't tell how we should be very Intelligent and Enlightened, as to those that seem altogether Impertinent and Fruitless.

This I need not stand to prove by tedious Instances, and which contain no considerale Truths; for if we must be ignorant of any thing, that best can be despens'd with, which is of no use: and I had rather not be credited, than make the Reader lose time by unprofitable things.

Though there are but very few, that are seriously taken up with things altogether Vain and Useless; yet those few are too many: But the number can't be too great of such as neglect them and despise them; provided only they forbear to judge of them. A limited Understanding is not blameable for not knowing several things, but only for judging of them. For Ignorance is an unavoidable Evil: But Errour both may, and ought to be avoided: Ignorance of many things is excusable, but headlong inconsiderate Judgments never.

V. That we are in extreme ignorance in point of Abstract things; and which have but little reference to us.When things are nearly related to us, are Sensible and easily Imaginable; we may say that the Mind intends them, and that some Knowledge of them is attainable: for knowing that they relate to us, we think of them with some inclination; and feeling them to affect us, our Application grows pleasant and delightful: So that we should, as to many things, be wiser than we are, but for the Restlesness and Agitation of our Will, that perpetually troubles and fatigues our Attention.

But when things are abstract and insensible, 'tis difficult to acquire any certain Knowledge of them: not that abstract things are in their own Nature intricate and puzling; but because the Attention and View of the Mind commonly begins and ends with the Sensible View of Objects: for as much as we mostly think of only what we see and feel, and as long as we see and feel it.

'Tis certain, that if the Mind could easily keep up to clear and distinct Ideas, without being as it were supported by some Sensation; and without having its Attention perpetually disturb'd by the Restlesness of the Will; we should find no great difficulties in infinite Natural Questions, but in a short time should get rid of our Ignorance, and Errours about them, which we now look upon as inexplicable.

For instance, 'tis an indisputable Truth to every Man that makes use of his Reason, that Creation and Annihilation exceed the ordinary force of Nature. Should we now stick to the consideration of that pure Notion of the Mind and Reason, we should not so readily admit the Creation and Annihilation of such innumerable multitudes of New Beings, as of Substantial Forms, Real Qualities, and Faculties, and the like. We should look for the reason of Natural Effects, in the distinct Ideas of Extension, Figure and Motion; and this is not so difficult as is imagin'd: For all Nature hangs in a continued chain, and the parts of it mutually prove each other.

The Effects of Fire, as those of Cannons and Mines, are very wonderful; and their Cause as secret and conceal'd. Nevertheless, if Men instead of adhering to the Impressions of their Senses, and false and delusive Experiments, should insist on that sole Notion of Pure Intellect: That 'tis impossible for a Body gently mov'd to produce a Violent Motion in another; since it cannot communicate more moving Force, than it has it self; it would be easie from that single Notion to conclude, there is some subtile and invisible Matter; that it is violently agitated, and universally diffus'd among all Bodies, and several things of like kind, which might serve to explain the Nature of Fire, and to discover other yet more intricate and hidden Truths.

For seeing so great Motions produc'd in a Cannon or a Mine, and all the visible surrounding Bodies, in too little Commotion to effect them, we are infallibly assur'd there are other invisible and insensible Bodies, which have at least so much Motion as the Cannon Bullet; but [Page] being extremely fine and subtile may, when alone, pass freely and without bursting any thing through the Pores of the Cannon, before it is fir'd; that is, as may be seen explain'd at large in Mr. des Cartes, before they have surrounded the hard and gross parts of the Saltpeter, which the Powder is compos'd of. But when the Fire is kindled, that is, when these most subtile and agitated particles, have encompassed the gross and solid parts of the Saltpeter, and so have communicated their most forcible and violent Motion to them; all must necessarily burst: because the the Pores of the Cannon, which gave a free passage on all sides to the subtile parts we speak of, when alone; are not large enough to receive the gross parts of the Saltpeter, and others that make the Powder, when agitated by the subtile particles that environ them.

For as the Water of a River shakes not the Bridge it runs under, because of the minuteness of its parts. So this most fine and subtile Matter continually passes through the pores of all Bodies, without causing any sensible alteration. But, as again that River is able to overturn a Bridge, when bearing down its Stream huge massy pieces of Ice, or other more solid Bodies, it dashes them against it with the same Force that it self is mov'd by: so the subtile Matter is capable of those astonishing Effects, observable in Cannons and Mines; when having communicated to the parts of the Powder, swimming in the midst of it, an infinitely more violent and rapid Motion, than that of Rivers and Torrents; these same parts of the Gunpowder cannot freely pass through the Pores of the including Bodies, because of their too great bulk: and therefore open themselves a way, by violently breaking what withstands them.

But 'tis not very easie to imagine these so subtile and refin'd Bodies, and they are look'd upon as Chimeras, because they cannot be seen. Contemplatio fere desinit cum aspectu; says My Lord Bacon. And indeed the greatest part of Philosophers had rather invent some New Entity, than be silent about things they do not understand. If it be objected to their false, and inconceivable Suppositions, that Fire must necessarily be compos'd of parts rapidly mov'd, because of those violent Motions it produces; whilst nothing can communicate what it has not: (which surely is a most clear and solid Objection) they will be sure to confound all by some childish and imaginary Distinction, such as Causes univocal and equivocal, that they may seem to say something, when indeed they say nothing at all. For in fine, 'tis a receiv'd Maxim with all considering Men, That there can be no equivocal Cause in Nature, and Ignorance has only invented them.

Those then who are desirous of knowing Nature, should take care to fix more to clear and distinct Notions. They should a little check and resist that Levity and Inconstancy of their Will, if they would penetrate to the bottom of things: for their Minds will ever be feeble, superficial and desultory, whilst their Wills remain roving, fickle and inconstant.

It must be confess'd that 'tis a painful and tiresome thing, and full of constraint, to become attentive, and go to the bottom of the things we have a mind to know. But nothing can be had without pains. Mean time, 'tis a reproach to Men of Sense, and Philosophers, who are oblig'd by all manner of reasons to the Search and Defence of Truth, to talk they know not what, and to be satisfied with what they do not understand.

CHAP. III.

I. Curiosity is natural, and necessary. II. Three Rules to moderate it. III. An Explication of the first of these Rules.

AS long as Men shall have an Inclination for a Good that exceeds their Strength,I. Curiosity is natural and necessary. and they shall not enjoy it; they will ever have a secret Inclination for whatever carries the Character of New and Extraordinary. They will constantly be persuing after things, which they have not yet consider'd, with hopes of finding what they seek for: and whereas their Minds can never be fully satisfied, without the Intuition of him, for whom they are created; so they will always be restless and tossing about, till He appears to them in His Glory.

This Disposition of Minds, is doubtless very consonant to their Condition; it being infinitely better restlesly to search after Truth, and Happiness which they do not possess, than to fix on a false and ill-grounded security, by taking up with Falshood, and Seeming Goods, the ordinary Desserts they feed on: Men ought not to be insensible to Truth and Hapiness, and what is New and Extraordinary ought to quicken them. For there is a Curiosity, which we may permit them, or rather which we ought to recommend to them. So then common and ordinary things containing not the true Good; and the Ancient Opinions of Philosophers, being most uncertain; it is reasonable we should be Curious for New Discoveries, and always unquiet in the Enjoyment of ordinary Goods.

Should a Geometrician go to give us New Propositions contrary to Euclide's; and pretend to prove that Science full of Errours, as Hobbs has essay'd in a Book he wrote against the Pride of the Giometricians; I confess we should be to blame to be pleas'd with such sorts of Novelties; since Truth being found, we ought to be constant in embracing it, our Curiosity being given us only to excite us to the Discovery. And therefore 'tis no common fault with Geometricians, to have a Curiosity for new Opinions in their Science: They would quickly be disgusted with a Book, whose Propositions contradicted those of Euclid: for that, being infallibly assur'd of the [Page] truth of his Propositions, by incontestable Demonstrations, their Curiosity must cease on that respect: An infallible sign that our Inclination for Novelty, proceeds only from our want of Evidence, as to the Truth of things we desire naturally to know; and our not possessing the Infinite Goods, which we naturally long to enjoy.

'Tis then just and equitable, that men should be excited by Novelty, and fond of persuing it: But however there are Exceptions to be made,II. Three Rules to moderate Curiosity. and some Rules to be observ'd; which may easily be deduc'd from our Assertion, viz. That the Inclination for Novelty, is only given us to discover Truth, and our real Goods.

These Rules are three in number; the first of which is, That Men must not love Novelty in matters of Faith, which are not under the Jurisdiction of Reason.

The second, That Novelty is no reason to induce us to believe things to be true or good; that is, we must not judge any Opinion true, because tis Novel; nor any Good capable of contenting us, because 'tis new and extraordinary, and we have never yet enjoy'd it.

The third, That when we are moreover assur'd that some Truths lie so deep, that 'tis Morally impossible to discover them: and that some Goods are so little, and slender, that they can never satisfie us; the Novelty ought not to raise our Curiosity, nor must we give way to be seduc'd by false Hopes. But we will explain these Rules more at large, and shew that the want of observing them engages us in a vast number of Errours.

We commonly meet with Men of two quite opposite humours: some that will always blindly and implicitly believe;III. A particular Explication of the first of these Rules. others, that will ever plainly and evidently perceive. The former having scarce ever made use of their Reason, indifferently believe whatever they hear; the latter resolving always to exercise their Mind, even in matters that are infinitely above it, equally despise all sorts of Authorities. Those are commonly of a stupid or weak capacity, as Children and Women; these are Haughty and Libertine Wits, as Hereticks and Philosophers.

We very rarely meet with Men exactly poiz'd in the midst of these two Extremes, who seek not for Evidence in matters of Faith, by a vain and fruitless Agitation of Mind; or that sometimes believe not without Evidence false Opinions about Natural things, by an indiscreet Deference, and servile Submission of Spirit. If they be Men of Religion, and defer greatly to the Authority of the Church, their Faith extends sometimes, if I may be allow'd to say so, to Opinions purely Philosophical; and they pay them the same respect as the Truths of the Gospel; whilst their illegitimate Zeal too readily prompts them to censure and condemn all of a different Sentiment and Persuasion. Hence they entertain injurious suspicions against Persons that make New Discoveries; and 'tis sufficient to pass for a Libertine with them, to deny Substantial Forms; that the Creatures feel Pleasure and Pain, and other Philosophical Opinions, which they believe true, without any evident Reason; only because they imagine some necessary Dependencies between these Opinions and matters of Faith,

But if Men are more bold and daring, the Spirit of Pride carries them to despise the Authority of the Church; and they are hardly brought to submit to it. They delight in harsh and presumptuous Opinions, and love to be thought Bold Wits; and upon that prospect, talk of Divine things irreverently, and with a sort of domineering Arrogance; d [...]spising, as too credulous, such as speak modestly of some receiv'd Opinions. Lastly, they are extremely dispos'd to doubt of every thing, and are quite opposite to those, who too easily submit to the Authority of Men.

'Tis manifest, that these two Extremes have nothing laudable, and that those that require not Evidence in Natural Questions; are no less culpable than others, who demand it in the Mysteries of Faith. But yet the former, who hazard the being mistaken in Philosophical Questions, by too easie a Belief, are doubtless more excusable than the latter, who run in danger of Heresie, by a presumptuous doubting. For 'tis less perillous to fall into infinite Errours of Philosophy, for want of examining them, than into one Heresie, for want of an humble Submission to the Authority of the Church.

The Mind reposes it self upon finding Evidence, but 'tis toss'd and disturb'd when it finds none; because Evidence is the Character of Truth. And therefore the Errour of Libertines and Hereticks proceeds from their Doubting that Truth is to be met with in the Decisions of the Church; because they see it not with Evidence, and hoping at the same time, that the Points of Faith may be evidently known. Now their passion for Novelty is corrupt and disorder'd, because having already the Truth, in the Faith of the Church, they ought no longer to seek for it: besides that the Truths we are taught by Faith, being infinitely above our Reason, they could not be discover'd, supposing, according to their false Notion, that the Church was guilty of Errour.

But as many Err, by refusing to submit to the Authority of the Church; so there are no fewer that deceive themselves, by submitting to the Authority of Men. The Authority of the Church must always be yielded to, because it can never err: but we must never blindfoldly resign to the Authority of Men, because they are always liable to mistake. The Doctrines of the Church infinitely transcend the powers of Reason, but the Doctrines of Men are subject to it: So that if it be an intolerable Vanity and Presumption to follow the Guidance of our Mind, in seeking for Truth in matters of Faith, without Respect to the Authority of the Church; it is likewise a sordid Levity, and a despicable Meanness of Spirit, blindly to believe upon the Authority of Men, in Subjects depending on Reason.

[Page]Notwithstanding which, it may be said, that most of those who bear the Name of Learned in the World, have purchas'd their Reputation merely by getting by rote the Opinions of Aristotle, Plato, Epicurus, and some other Philosophers, and by blindfoldly embracing, and wilfully maintaining their Opinions. An Acquaintance with the Sentiments of some Philosophers, is enough to entitle to Degrees, and exteriour Badges of Learning in the Universities: And provided a Man shall swear in Verba Magistri, he shall speedily commence a Doctor. Most Communities have a Ped, and Learning peculiar to themselves, which every private Person is oblig'd to stand and fall by. What is true in one Society is false in another. They sometimes take pride in maintaining the Doctrine of their Order against Reason and Experience; and think they are oblig'd to warp and distort the Truth, or make their Authors buckle, that they may be consistent with it: Which has occasion'd an infinite multitude of trifling Distinctions, which are so many By-ways to lead infallibly to Errour.

If any Truth be now a-days discover'd, Aristotle must have known it; but if Aristotle be against it, the Discovery is false. Some make that Philosopher speak one way, some another; for all Pretenders to Learning teach him to speak in their own Dialect. There is no Impertinence but he is introduc'd as uttering; nor any New Discovery, but is found enigmatically treasur'd up in some corner of his Books. In a word, he constantly contradicts himself; if not in his Works, at least in the Mouths of his Professors. For though the Philosophers declare, and indeed design to teach his Doctrine, yet 'tis an hard thing to find two to meet upon his Opinions; because in effect his Books are so obscure, and abound with so many loose, indefinite, and general Terms, that even those Mens Notions may with some likelihood be ascrib'd to him, that are the most opposite in the World. He may be made to say any thing in some of his Works, because he says just nothing, whilst he makes much Noise; as Children make the Bells [...]ound what they have a mind to, because they are very noisie, but inarticulate.

'Tis true, it seems reasonable to fix and determine the Mind of Man to particular Opinions, to keep it from rambling▪ and extravagance: But why must it be done by Falshood and Errour? Can Errour be thought capable of reuniting divided Minds? If we consider how rare it is to find Men of Sense and Parts satisfy'd with reading Aristotle, and persuaded they have acquir'd true Science, though grown old in poring on his Books, we shall evidently perceive that nothing but Truth and Evidence can quiet the Agitation of the Mind; and that Disputes, Aversions, Errours, and Heresies, are kept up and fortify'd by the Corrupt Course and Method of Mens Study. Truth consists in indivisibili, is incapable of Variety, and nothing else can reunite Mens Minds: But Errour and Falshood can only divide and disturb them.

I make no question but there are such as honestly believe, that he, whom they style the Prince of Philosophers, is guilty of no Errour; and that his Works are the Magazines of true and sound Philosophy. There are Men who imagine, that in the space of two thousand Years, the Time since he wrote, no Man has been able to say he has made a Blot, or been guilty of a Mistake; and so making him infallible in a manner, they can pin their Faith upon him, and quote him as infallible. But 'tis not worth while to stand to answer such Gentlemen as these, because their Ignorance must needs be exceeding gross, and meriting more to be pitied than oppugn'd: I desire only of them, if they know that either Aristotle, or any of his Followers, have deduc'd any Truth from the Principles peculiar to him; or if possibly themselves have done it, that they would declare it, explain it, and prove it; and I promise them never more to speak but to Aristotle's Praise and Commendation. His Principles shall no longer be calumniated as useless, since they have at last been serviceable to prove one Truth. But we have no Reason to hope this: For the Challenge has been long since offer'd, and M. Des Cartes, among the rest, has done it in his Metaphysical Meditations, almost Forty Years ago, and oblig'd himself to demonstrate the Falshood of that pretended Truth. And there is great Probability no Man will ever venture to attempt what M. Des Cartes's greatest Enemies, and the most zealous Defenders of Aristotle's Philosophy never yet durst undertake.

I beg leave then, after this, to say, That it is Blindness, Slavishness of Spirit, and Stupidity, thus to betray Reason to the Authority of Aristotle, Plato, or whatever other Philosopher: That 'tis Loss of Time to read them, out of no other Design than to remember their Opinions; and 'tis to waste that of others too, to teach them in that manner. And I may say with St. Augustin, Quis tam stulte curio [...]us est, qui filium suum mit [...]at in Scholam, ut quid Magister cogitet discat? That a Man must be sottishly curious, who sends his Son to the College to learn the Opinions of his Tutour. That the Philosophers cannot instruct us by their Authority; and to pretend to it is a piece of Injustice: That 'tis a kind of Madness and Impiety to take a solemn Oath of Allegiance to them: And, Lastly, that 'tis to detain Truth in an unjust Bondage, from Interest, and Partiality, to oppose the New Opinions of Philosophy, that may be true, to keep up the credit of such as are known to be either false or useless.

CHAP. IV.

[Page]

A Continuation of the same Subject. I. An Explication of the Second Rule concerning Curiosity. II. An Explication of the Third.

I. The Second Rule concerning Curiosity.THE Second Rule to be observ'd is, That Novelty should never pass with us as a Reason to believe things to be true. We have often said, That a Man ought not to acquiesce in Errour, and the seeming Goods which he enjoys: That 'tis just he should seek for the Evidence of Truth, and the True Good, which he does not possess, and consequently have an Inclination for things that are New and Extraordinary: Yet he is not, for all that, to cleave to them, or to believe, out of a Levity of Humour, that Opinions are true, because novel; and that Goods are real, because they have not been experienc'd. Novelty should only put him upon examining New things carefully; which he ought not to despise, because he does not know them; nor rashly to believe, to contain what his Hopes and Wishes aim at.

But here follows a thing of common Observation: When Men have examin'd Ancient and Receiv'd Opinions, without perceiving the bright Light of Truth; when they have tasted Common Goods, without finding the solid Pleasure that should attend the Possession of Good; and when their Desires and Longings are not abated by ordinary Goods and Opinions: If then they hear of any thing new and unexperienc'd, the Idea of Novelty gives them Grounds of hoping that this is the very thing they search for. And because they commonly flatter themselves, and willingly believe things are as they wish them to be, their Hopes strengthen as fast as their Desires increase, till at last they insensibly grow into imaginary Assurances: Hereupon they so inseparably annex the Idea of Novelty to the Idea of Truth, that the one is never excited without the other; and that which is newest, seems always truer and better than what is more ordinary and common. Wherein they widely differ from some others, who from an Abhorrence of Heresie, having join'd the Idea of Novelty with that of Falsity, imagine all New Opinions false, and including something of dangerous Importance.

Thence it may be concluded, That this customary Disposition of the Mind and Heart of Man, in respect of all that bears the Character of Novelty, is one of the most general Causes of their Errours: It hardly ever conducts them to the Truth; but when it does, 'tis purely by Chance, and good Luck; and it constantly obviates their Possession of their True Good, by engaging them in that Multiplicity of Divertisements, and falsly seeming Goods, the World is fill'd with; which is the most dangerous Errour Man can fall into.

II. The Third Rule concerning Curiosity.The Third Rule against the excessive Desires of Novelty, is, That when we are otherwise assur'd that some Truths lie so deep, that 'tis morally impossible to discover them; and that some Goods are so little and slender, that they cannot make us happy, the Novelty of them ought not to excite our Curiosity.

Every one may know by Faith, Reason, and Experience, That all created Goods are notable to fill the infinite Capacity of the Will. We are taught by Faith, that all worldly things are Vanity; and that our Happiness consists neither in Riches nor Honours. Reason assures us, that since it is not in our Power to bound our Desires, and that we are carried by a Natural Inclination to the loving all Goods; that we cannot become Happy, but by possessing HIM who contains them all. Our own Experience makes us sensible, that we are not Happy in the Possession of the Goods we enjoy, because we are still desirous of others. Lastly, We daily see that the mighty Goods which Princes, and the most Potent Kings enjoy on Earth, are incapable of filling their Desires: That they have even more Disturbances and Troubles than other Men; and that being on the highest Point of Fortune's Wheel, they must be infinitely more shaken and agitated by its Motion than those which sit lower and nearer its Axis: For in short, they never fall, but 'tis from a Precipice; they receive no little Wounds, and all that Grandeur which attends them, and which they incorporate with their own Being, only enlarges and extends them, that they may receive a greater Number of Wounds, and be more expos'd to the Insults and Blows of Fortune.

Faith, Reason, and Experience thus assuring us, that earthly Goods and Pleasures, which we have never tasted, could not make us Happy, though we should enjoy them; special Care ought to be taken, according to the Third Rule, to supersede being flatter'd with the vain Hope of Felicity, which Hope insensibly increasing, proportionably to our Passions and Desires, will at last end in a false Confidence, and an ill-grounded Assurance. For when we are extreamly passionate for any Good, we always imagine it excessively great; and by degrees persuade our selves we shall be happy in the Enjoyment.

These vain Desires then must be resisted, since to try to satisfie them would be a fruitless Attempt: But especially for this Reason, that when we give way to our Passions, and spend our Time to afford them Satisfaction, we lose GOD, and all things with him; we only run from one seeming Good to another, live always in false Hopes, distract and agitate our selves a thousand ways, and meet with perpetual Oppositions and frustrations, because the desired Goods are sought, but can't be possess'd by many at once; and at last we die, and can enjoy nothing more: [Page] For, as we are taught by St. Paul, They that will be rich, fall into temptation and a snare, 2 Tim. 6.9. and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition: for the love of money is the root of all evil.

But if we ought not to be sollicitous for the Goods of the Earth, which are new to us, as being certain that the Happiness we are in search of, is not to be found in them; much less ought we to desire to know the new Opinions about a vast many difficult Questions: as being otherwise convinc'd, that an humane Mind can never discover the truth of them. Most of the Questions treated of in Morals and Physicks, are of that nature; which may afford us Reason to suspect the generality of those Books we see daily compos'd upon very obscure and most perplexing Subjects▪ For though, absolutely speaking, the Questions they contain are solvable; yet, so few Truths being hitherto discover'd, and so many to be known before we can come to those that are handled in these Books; they cannot be read without hazarding to lose much by them.

But yet this is not the Method that is taken, but the quite contrary: Men examine not whether what is said be possible. Promise them only extraordinary things, as, the Restitution of Natural Heat, Radical Moisture, Vital Spirits, or other Unintelligible Matters; and you excite their vain Curiosity, and prepossess them. 'Tis enough to dazle them, and win their Assent, to offer them Paradoxes; to make use of obscure Words, Terms of Influence, or the Authority of some unknown Authors; or to make some very sensible and unusual Experiment, though it have no reference to the thing advanc'd. For Confusion is Conviction to some sorts of People.

If a Physician, a Chirurgeon, or an Empirick, quote but some Greek and Latin Sentences, and talk to their Hearers in new and extraordinary Terms, they take them for Great Men; they give them the Prerogative of Life and Death, and believe them as they would an Oracle: They imagine themselves too, that they are elevated to a pitch above the common size, and pierce to the bottom of things. And if one happen to be so indiscreet, as to testifie, that five or six insignificative Words that prove nothing, will not go down for Reason; they think a Man void of Common-sense, and that he denies First Principles: And indeed, these Gentlemen's First Principles are five or six Latin Words of an Author, or some Greek Passage, if they have greater Abilities.

It is even necessary for skilful Physicians to talk sometimes in an unknown Tongue to their Patients, to purchase Reputation, and to make themselves attended to.

A Physician who can go no farther than Latin, may pass well enough in a Country Parish, because Latin is Greek and Arabick to the Illiterate. But if a Physician cannot at least read Greek, [...]o learn some Aphorism of Hypocrates, he must not expect to pass for a Scholar with the Inhabitants of a City, who commonly understand Latin. And so the most Learned amongst them, knowing this Humour of the World, are forc'd to talk like Cheats and Quacks; and we are not always to take an Estimate of their Parts and Learning from the Discourse they have in their Visits.

CHAP. V.

I. Of the Second Natural Inclination, or of Self-love. II. The Division of it into Love of Being, and of Well-being; or, of Greatness and Pleasure.

THE Second Inclination which the Author of Nature constantly impresses on our Will, is, The Love of our selves, and Our own Preservation.

We have already said, That GOD loves all his Works;I. Of the S [...] cond natural Inclination, or of Self-love. and that it is only his Love which preserves them in their Being; and that 'tis his Will, that all Created Spirits should have the same Inclination with his own. 'Tis his Will therefore, that they all have a natural Inclination for their own Preservation, and that they love themselves. So that Self-love is reasonable, because Man is really amiable; in as much as GOD loves us, and would have us love our selves: but it is not reasonable to love our selves better than GOD; since GOD is infinitely more lovely than we are. It is injust for us to place our ultimate End in our selves, and to centre our Love there, without reference to GOD; since having no real Goodness, or Subsistence of our selves, but only by the participation of the Goodness and Being of GOD, we are no farther amiable than we stand related to him.

Nevertheless, the Inclination we should have for GOD, is lost by the Fall; and our Will now has only an infinite Capacity for all Goods, or Good in general; and a strong Inclination to possess them, which can never be destroy'd. But the Inclination which we ought to have for our own Preservation, or our Self-love, is so mightily increas'd, that 'tis at last become the absolute Master of our Will: It has even chang'd and converted the Love of GOD, or the Inclination we have for Good in general, and that due to other Men, into its own nature. For it may be said, that the Love of our selves at present ingrosses all, because we love all things but with relation to our selves; whereas we should love GOD only first, and all things after as related to him.

When Faith and Reason certifie us, that GOD is the sovereign Good, and, that he alone can fill us with Pleasures, we easily conceive it our Duty to love him, and readily afford him our Affections; but, unassisted by Grace, Self-love always is the first Mover. All pure and defecate Charity is above the strength of our corrupt Nature; and so far are we from loving GOD for himself, that Humane Reason cannot comprehend how 'tis possible to love him, without Reference to our [Page] selves, and making our ultimate End our own Satisfaction. Self-love therefore is the only Master of our Will, ever since the Disorders of Sin: and the Love of GOD, and our Neighbour, are only Consequences of it; since we love nothing at present, but with the hopes of some Advantage, or because we actually receive some Pleasure therein.

This Self-love branches into two sorts; viz. Into the Love of Greatness, and the Love of Pleasure;II. The Division of Self-love, of Being, and of Well-being; or of Greatness and Pleasure. or into the Love of ones Being, and the Perfection of it, and into the Love of Well-being or Felicity.

By the Love of Greatness, we affect Power, Elevation, Independency, and a Self-subsisting Being. We are, after a sort, ambitious of having a Necessary Being; and in one sense desire to be as Gods: for GOD only has properly Being and Necessary Existence, for that every Depending Nature exists only by the Will of its Upholder. Wherefore Men, in desiring the Necessity of their Being, desire Power and Independency, which may set them beyond the reach of the Power of others. But by the Love of Pleasure, they desire not barely Being, but Well-being; Pleasure being the best and most advantageous Mode of the Soul's Existence.

For it must be noted, That Greatness, Excellency, and Independency of the Creature, are not Modes of Existence, that render it more happy of themselves; for it often happens, that a Man grows miserable, in proportion to his growing great: But as to Pleasure, 'tis a Mode of Existence, which we cannot Actually receive, without being Actually more happy. Greatness and Independency are commonly External Modes, consisting in the relation we have to things about us. But Pleasures are in the very Soul, are real Modes, which modifie her, and are naturally adapted to content her. And therefore we look upon Excellency, Greatness, and Independency, as things proper for the Preservation of our Being, and useful sometimes, by the order of Nature, to the continuance of our Well-being. But Pleasure is always a Mode of the Mind's Existence, which of it self renders it Happy and Content. So that Pleasure is Well-being; and the Love of Pleasure, the Love of Well-being.

Now this Love of Well-being is sometimes more powerful and strong than the Love of Being: and Self-love makes us desire Non-existence, because we want Well-being. This Desire is incident to the Damn'd, for whom it were better, according to the Saying of our SAVIOUR, not to be at all, than to be so ill as they are; because these Wretches being the declar'd Enemies of him who contains in himself all Goodness, and who is the sole Cause of all the Pleasures and Pains we are capable of; 'tis impossible they should enjoy any Satisfaction. They are and will be eternally miserable, because their Will shall ever be in the same Disposition and Corruption. Self-love therefore includes two Loves, that of Greatness, Power, and Independence, and generally of all things thought proper for the preservation of our Being; and that of Pleasure, and of all things necessary to our Well-being; that is, to our being Happy and Content.

These two Loves may be divided several ways: whether because we are compounded of two different parts, of a Soul and Body, by which they may be divided; or because they may be distinguish'd or specify'd by the different Objects, that are serviceable to our Preservation. But I shall insist no longer upon this, because, designing not a Treatise of Morality, there is no need of making an exact Disquisition and Division of all the things relating to us, as our Goods. Only this Division was necessary to reduce into some order the Causes of our Errours.

First, I shall speak to the Errours that are caus'd by the Inclination we have for Greatness, and whatever sets our Being free from Dependence upon others. In the next place, I shall treat of those which proceed from our Inclination to Pleasure, and whatever meliorates our Being as much as possible, and contents us most.

CHAP. VI.

I. Of the Inclination we have for whatever elevates us above others. II. Of the false Judgments of some Religious Persons. III. Of the false Judgments of the Superstitious and Hypocrites. IV. Of Voetius, Mr. Des Cartes's Enemy.

WHatever tends to exalt us above others, by making us more perfect, as Science and Vertue; or gives us Authority over them by rendring us more powerful,I. Of the Inclination we have for whatever elevates us above others. as Honours and Riches; seems to put us in a sort of Independence. All those that are below us, reverence and fear us; are always prepar'd to execute what we please for our Preservation, and are afraid of offending us or resisting our Desires: which makes Men constantly endeavour to be Masters of these Advantages, which elevate them above others▪ for they don't consider that their Being and Well-being depend, in truth, on GOD alone, and not on Men: and that real Greatness, which shall make them everlastingly happy, consists not in the Rank they bear in the imagination of others, as impotent and miserable as themselves; but in an humble Submission to the Will of GOD: who being just, will not fail to reward such as persevere in the Order he has prescrib'd them.

But Men not only desire actually to possess Science and Vertue, Dignities and Riches; but lay out their whole Endeavours, that they may at least be thought really to possess them. And if it [Page] may be said of them, That they are more sollicitous to be Truly Rich, than to be thought so; we may say too, they are less careful to be Truly Vertuous, than to appear so: for, as was handsomly said by the Author of the Moral Reflexions; Vertue would not go far, unless Vanity bore her Company.

The Reputation of being Rich, Learned, Vertuous, produces in the Imagination of those about us, or that are of nearest Concernment to us, very advantageous Dispositions on our behalf; it lays them prostrate at our feet, actuates them on our account, and inspires them with all the Motions that tend to the preservation of our Being, and the augmentation of our Greatness: which makes Men careful to preserve their Reputation, as a Good they have need of, to live conveniently in the World.

All Men then have an Inclination for Vertue, Science, Honours, and Riches; and for the Reputation of possessing these Advantages. We will now make it appear, by some Instances, how these Inclinations may engage us in Errour: and will begin with the Inclination for Vertue, or for the Appearance of it.

Those who seriously labour to become Vertuous, employ most of their Thoughts and Time in the learning Religion, and the exercise of Good Works: They desire, with St. Paul, to know only CHRIST Crucify'd, the Remedy of the Disease, and Corruption of their Nature: They wish for no more Light than is requisite to their living as becomes Christians, and to discover their Duties: And next they study only to grow fervent and punctual in Devotion; and so trouble not themselves with those Sciences which seem barren, and insignificant to their Salvation.

Which Conduct is not to be blam'd, but highly esteem'd.II. Of the false Judgments of some Religious Persons. Happy should we think our selves exactly to have serv'd it, as we repent the not having sufficiently persu'd it. But what is reprovable is, That there being undoubtedly Sciences purely Humane, of greatest Certainty as well as Use, which take off the Mind from sensible things, and accustom or prepare it insensibly to relish the Truths of the Gospel: Some pious Persons too liberally condemn them without Examination, as either unprofitable or uncertain.

True it is, that most of the Sciences are very uncertain and useless. 'Tis no Mistake, to think they contain only very insignificant Truths. No body's oblig'd to study them; and 'tis better to despise them altogether, than to be charm'd and dazl'd with them. However, we may affirm, That the Knowledge of some Metaphysical Truths is most necessary. The Knowledge of an Universal Cause, or of the Existence of a GOD, is of indispensible necessity; since even the Certainty of Faith depends on the Knowledge which Reason affords of the Existence of a GOD: We ought to know, that 'tis His Will that constitutes and governs Nature; that the Strength and Power of Natural Causes is merely his Will: in a word, that all things depend on GOD all manner of ways.

Again, 'tis necessary to know what is Truth; the means to distinguish it from Errour: The Distinction betwixt Bodies and Spirits, and the Consequences that may be drawn from it, as the Immortality of the Soul, and many others of like nature, which may be infallibly known.

The Knowledge of Man, or of one's Self, is a Science that cannot reasonably be despis'd: It is stor'd with infinite things, absolutely necessary to be known, in order to an Accuracy and Penetration of Mind. And if it may be said, that a gross and stupid Man is infinitely superiour to Matter, because he knows that he exists, which Matter does not know: Those who are acquainted with the Nature of Man, are certainly much above the Ignorant and Stupid, because they know what they are, which the others don't.

But the Science of Man does not only merit our Esteem because it exalts us above others, but much more for abasing us, and humbling us before GOD. This Science throughly acquaints us with the Dependence we have on him in all things, even in our most customary Actions: It manifestly discovers the Corruption of our Nature, disposes us to have recourse to him, who alone can cure us; to fasten upon him, to distrust our selves, and quit our Self-adherencies and Engagements: and furnishes us with several other very requisite Dispositions of Mind, to fit us for the Grace of the Gospel.

Nor can a superficial Tincture, and a general Knowledge, at least of Mathematicks and Nature, be dispens'd with. Those Sciences should be learn'd when we are young, as disengaging the Mind from things sensible, and preventing its growing soft and effeminate: they are very useful to the Conduct of Life, and even bring us to GOD; the Knowledge of Nature doing it directly of it self, and that of Mathematicks collaterally, by the Disgust it infuses, for the false Impressions of the Senses.

The Vertuous and Religious would do well not to dis-esteem these Sciences, nor look on them as uncertain or useless, till they are certain they have study'd them so throughly, that they can pass a sound Judgment on them. There are others enough, which they are at liberty to despise as peremptorily as they please. They may sentence to the Flames the Heathen Poets and Philosophers, the Rabbins, with some Historians, and a multitude of Authors, on whose Stock many set up for Fame and Learning; and we shall easily forgive them. But let them not condemn the Knowledge of Nature, as contrary to Religion; since Nature being rul'd by the Will of GOD, the True Knowledge of it gives us to understand and admire the Divine Power, Greatness, and Wisdom. For, last of all, it is probable that GOD has form'd the Universe, that Spirits might be employ'd in studying it; and by that study be brought to know and reverence its Author. So that those who condemn the study of Nature, seem to be Opposers of the Will of GOD; but that they would have it thought, that since the Fall the Humane Mind is incapacitated for that study. Nor let [Page] it be said, that the Knowledge concerning Man puffs up the Mind, and renders it vain and arrogant; because those who are suppos'd to understand Humane Nature best (though frequently they understand it very little) are intolerably proud and presumptuous. For 'tis plain, that no Man can be well acquainted with himself, but he must be sensible of his Weakness and his Misery.

So then it is not true and solid Piety that so commonly condemns what it does not understand, but rather Superstition and Hypocrisie. III. Of the false Judgments of the Superstitious and Hypocrites. The Superstitious, out of a slavish Fear, and a dejection and timerousness of Spirit, start and boggle at a lively and penetrating Wit. Explain to them, for instance, the natural Reasons of Thunder, and its Effects, and you shall be a reputed Atheist. But Hypocrites, by a diabolical Malignity, transform themselves into Angels of Light: for they employ the appearances of Truths of universally sacred and rever'd Authority, to withstand, from out of partial Interests, such Truths as are rarely known, and of little Reputation. Thus they oppugn Truth by her own Image: and whilst they ridicule in their Heart what is reverenc'd by the World, they establish their Reputation so much more deep and impregnable in the Minds of Men, as the Truth they have abus'd is more sacred and inviolable.

Such Persons are the strongest, powerfullest, and most formidable Enemies of the Truth. They are not indeed very common: but there need be but few to do a world of mischief. The Shew of Truth and Vertue frequently do more Evil, than Truth and Vertue themselves do Good. For one subtile Hypocrite is enough to overthrow what cost a great many truly wise and vertuous, much labour and pains to build.

Of Voetius. Monsieur Des Cartes, for instance, has demonstratively prov'd the Existence of a GOD, the Immortality of our Souls, and a great many other both Metaphysical and Physical Questions: and our Age is under infinite Obligations to him for the Truths he has discover'd to us. Notwithstanding, there starts up an inconsiderable Person, and takes upon him (being an hot and vehement Declamer, and in Esteem with the People for the Zeal he manifested for their Religion) to compose Books full of Calumnies against him, and accuse him of the vilest Crimes. Des Cartes was a Catholick, and was Tutor'd in his Studies by the Jesuits, whom he frequently mention'd with an honourable respect. This was enough with that malicious Spirit, to persuade a People, opposite to our Religion, and easie to be provok'd upon Matters so nice as those of Religion are, that he was an Emissary of the Jesuits, and had dangerous Designs: because the least shadow of Truth in Points of Faith, has more influence on Men's Minds, than real and effective Truths in Matters of Physicks or Metaphysicks, for which they have little or no regard. Des Cartes wrote of the Existence of a GOD; and this was sufficient for this Slanderer to exercise his false Zeal, and to oppress all the Truths that made for his Enemy's Defence. He accus'd him of Atheism, and of cunningly and clandestinely teaching it; like that infamous Atheist Vanino, burn'd at Toulouse, who, to cover his Malice and Impiety, wrote for the Existence of a GOD. For, one of the Reasons he alledges for his Enemy's being an Atheist, was, that he wrote against the Atheists, as did Vanino, for a cloak to his Villany.

So easie is it for a Man to overwhelm Truth, when supported with the shews of it, and when once he has obtain'd an Authority over weaker Minds. Truth loves Gentleness and Peace; and though she be very strong, yet she sometimes yields to the Pride and Arrogance of Falshood and a Lye, dress'd up and arm'd in her own Appearances. She knows that Errour cannot finally prevail against her; and if it be her Fate sometimes to live proscrib'd and in obscurity, 'tis only to wait more favourable opportunities of manifesting her self: for she generally at last breaks out▪ in greater Strength and Brightness, even in the very place of her Oppression.

'Tis no wonder to hear an Enemy of Des Cartes, a Man of a different Religion, and ambitious to raise himself upon the Ruins of Men above him, an injudicious Haranguer; in a word, a Voetius, to talk contemptuously of what he neither does nor will understand. But 'tis to be admir'd, that such as are neither Enemies to Des Cartes, nor his Religion, should be possess'd with an Aversion and Contempt of him, on the account of the Reproaches they have read in Books compos'd by the Enemy both to his Person and his Church.

That Heretick's Book, intitled Desperata Causa Papatus, is a sufficient Proof of his Impudence, Ignorance, Outrage, and desire of seeming Zealous, thereby to purchase a Reputation amongst his Flock: which shews that he's not a Man to be trusted on his Word. For as we are not to believe all the fabulous Stories he has heap'd together in his Book against our Religion; so we are not to believe, on the strength of his Affirmation, those bitter and hainously injurious Accusations he has forg'd against his Enemy.

'Tis not then the part of a Rational Man, to enter into a Persuasion that M. Des Cartes was a dangerous Person; because they have, perchance, read it in some Book, or heard it said by others, whose Piety is awful and respected: for Mens bare words are not to be credited, when they accuse others of the highest Crimes; nor is the Zeal and Gravity it is spoken in, sufficient Inducement to persuade us of the Truth of it. For, in short, 'tis possible for Folly and Falshood to be set off in the same manner as better things, especially when the Speaker is won over to the Belief of them out of Simplicity and Weakness.

'Tis easie to be inform'd of the Truth or Falshood of the Indictment drawn up against M. Des Cartes; his Writings being easie to come by, and not difficult to be understood by an Attentive Person. Let a Man therefore read his Books, that better Evidence may be had against him than a bare Hear-say; and after he has well read them, and digested them, it may be hop'd the Plea of Atheism will be thrown out, and on the contrary, all due Respect and Deference paid to a Man, [Page] who in a most simple and evident manner has demonstrated not only the Existence of a GOD, and the Immortality of the Soul, but a great number of other Truths, that till his time were never thought on.

CHAP. VII.

Of the Desire of Science, and of the Judgments of the falsly Learned.

THE Mind of Man is doubtless of a little Reach and Capacity, and yet he longs to know every thing: All Humane Sciences are unable to satisfie his Desires, though he has not room to comprehend any one in particular. He is constantly disquieted, and impatient for Knowledge, either because he hopes to find what he seeks for, as we have said in the foregoing Chapters; or, because he is persuaded that his Soul is agrandiz'd by the vain possession of some extraordinary Knowledge.

The irregular Desire of Happiness and Greatness, puts him upon the Study of all Sciences, hoping to find Happiness in moral, and looking for that false Greatness in speculative Knowledge.

Whence comes it, that there are Men who spend their Life in Reading the Rabbins, and such like Books, written in foreign, obscure, and corrupt Languages, by injudicious and sensless Authors; but from a Persuasion that the Knowledge of the Oriental Tongues gives them a wonderful Lift and Exaltation above others that know nothing of them? and what can bear up their Courage under so ungrateful, unpleasant, painful, and useless a Study, but the hope of Eminency, and the prospect of some vain Greatness? And indeed, they are look'd upon as extraordinary Men: they are complemented upon their profound Learning; they are more awfully listned to than others: and though we may, for the most part, pronounce them the most injudicious of all, if it were only for wasting their Life on so insignificant a Business, which can neither make them wiser nor happier; yet they are suppos'd to have greater Sense and Judgment than others: Because they are more knowing in the Derivation of Words, we think them more learn'd in the Nature of Things.

'Tis for the same Reason that Astronomers employ their Time and Fortune to get an accurate Knowledge of what's not only useless, but impossible to be known: They would find in the Courses of the Planets such an exact Regularity, as does not belong to them; and erect Astronomical Schemes to foretel Effects, the Causes whereof they do not know. They have fram'd a Selenography, or Geography, of the Moon, as if Men design'd to travel thither; and have already shar'd that World amongst the most famous Astronomers: few of them but are awarded some Province in this Country, as a Recompence for their Labours: And I question whether they think it not a piece of Honour to have been in the good Graces of him who so magnificently distributed these Kingdoms.

What makes Rational Men so hot in the Study of this Science, whilst at the same time they are grosly ignorant as to most useful Truths, but that there seems to be something great in the Knowledge of Heavenly Transactions: The Knowledge of the least thing happening in the Upper World, seems more Noble, Sublime, and befitting the Greatness of their Mind, than the Knowledge of things vile, abject, and corruptible, as they think Sublunary Bodies. The Excellency of a Science, derives from the Excellency of its Object. This is a notable Principle! The Knowledge of the Motion of Inchangeable and Incorruptible Bodies, is therefore most noble and elevated of all other; and as such, seems worthy of the Greatness and Excellency of their Mind.

Thus it is Men suffer themselves to be dazled with a false Idea of Greatness, which flatters and excites them. The Imagination struck, falls down before the Phantom, which it reverences, to the blinding Reason that should judge of it, and turning it upside down. Men seem to be in a Dream, when they judge of the Objects of their Passions; to have their Eyes seal'd up, and to be destitute of common Sense. For what is there of so great Importance in the Knowledge of the Motions of the Planets? Don't we know enough already to regulate our Months and Years? Why so much ado, to know whether Saturn is incircled with a Ring, or a great multitude of Little Moons? and why must we make Parties hereupon? What Reason is there for a Man to boast himself upon the Prediction of the Greatness of an Eclipse? when possibly the Success was owing only to a luckier Guess. There are Men appointed and encourag'd by the Royal Order to observe the Stars; let us sit down content with their Observations. This Employment they follow with Reason, because they engage in it by Duty: It is their proper Business; and therefore their Labours are successful, as grounded upon Art, and carried on with all imaginable Accuracy and Application; and they want nothing to promote their Endeavours. Thus we ought to be fully satisfy'd as to a Ma [...]ter that concerns us so little, whilst they communicate to us their Discoveries.

'Tis requisite that many Persons study Anatomy, since its Knowledge is exceeding useful; that Knowledge being most to be desir'd which has most Use and Advantage. Whatever contributes any thing to our Happiness, or rather to the easing our Infirmities, and mitigating our Miseries, may, and must be studied. But to be prying whole Nights at the end of a Telescope, to discover in the Heavens some Spot, or new Planet or other; to ruin a Man's Health and Happiness, to neglect all his Business, that he may pay constant Visits to the Stars, and measure their Magnitudes [Page] and Situations, is, in my mind, entirely to forget both what a Man is at present, and what he shall be hereafter.

But you'll say perhaps, that this manifests the Greatness of him who made these mighty Objects: To which I say, That the least Fly shews forth the Power and Wisdom of GOD, to those who attentively consider it without prejudice to its Littleness, more than all that the Astronomers know concerning the Heavens: Yet Men are not made to consider Flies; and we think their pains but ill employ'd, who have studied to inform us how the several Lice of every respective Animal are made, and how different Worms are transform'd into Flies and Butter-flies. They may, if they please, for their diversion, when they have nothing else to do, busie themselves about these things: but they ought not to spend their whole time upon them, unless they are become insensible to their miseries.

But it lies upon them to be incessantly endeavouring to know GOD and themselves, to labour seriously to get rid of their Errours and Prejudices, of their Passions, and Inclinations to Sin; to be importunate in the search of Truths most needful for them: for at last those shall be found to be most judicious, who are most careful in the Enquiry after the solidest Truths.

The principal Cause which engages Men in these false Studies, is, their having conjoin'd the Idea of Learned to these vain and unfruitful Sciences, instead of annexing it to the solid and necessary. When once a Man has the Thoughts of growing Learned in his Head, and the Spirit of Polimathy begins to work, he is little concern'd to know what Sciences are most necessary, either to guide him by the Rules of Vertue, or to perfect his Reason: he only fixes his Eye on such as go for the Learned in the World, and observes what they have in them that makes them so considerable. All the most solid and necessary Sciences being of common and easie access, can neither make their Possessors admir'd nor respected: for common things, however fine and admirable in themselves, are carelesly and supinely regarded; which makes the Pretenders to Learning, dwell but little on Sciences necessary to the Conduct of Life, and the Perfection of the Mind. For these raise not in them that Idea of the Sciences which they had form'd, as not being those they admir'd in others, and which they would have others to admire in them.

The Gospel, and Morality, are Sciences too common and ordinary for them: they love to be skill'd in the Criticisms of some words to be met with in the Ancient Philosophers or Greek Poets. The Tongues, as Arabick and Rabbinage, and all except their genuine native Language, seem worthy their Study and Application: If they read the Holy Scriptures, 'tis not to learn Piety and Religion; but, Points of Chronology and Geography, and Difficulties of Grammar, take them wholly up: and they are more earnest to know these things, than the salutary Truths of the Gospel: they aim at the possession of the Science they have foolishly admir'd in others; and for which they are likely to be admir'd by other Fools in their turn.

'Tis so with them in point of Natural Knowledge; not the most Useful, but the least Common, is their Beloved. Anatomy is too mean and low for them; but Astronomy is more noble and exalted. Ordinary Experiments are unworthy their Application; but those rare and wonderful Experiments which can never instruct us, are those they most carefully observe.

Histories that are the most Rare and Ancient, they glory to know: and whilst they are ignorant of the Genealogy of Princes that at present Reign, are diligent in searching for the Pedigree of those who died four thousand Years ago. They scorn to learn the most common Histories of their own Times, yet endeavour to be critically skill'd in the Fables and Fictions of the Poets. They know not so much as their own Relations; yet will, if you desire it, cite several Authorities to prove that a Citizen of Rome was allied to an Emperour: and a great many other such things.

Hardly can they tell the Names of the common Garments in present Use, yet busie their Heads to know what were in wear with the old Greeks and Romans. Their own Country Animals they are ignorant of; while they grudge not to spend several Years in composing huge Volumes on the Creatures of Scripture; that they may seem to have a better guess than others at the Signification of unknown Terms: Such a Book is the Hearts-delight of its Author, and of its learn'd Readers; for being patch'd up of Greek, Hebrew, and Arabick Passages, &c. of Rabbinical and such like dark and extraordinary Citations; it satisfies the Vanity of its Author, and the ridiculous Curiosity of those that read it, who fancy themselves learneder than others, when they can confidently affirm there are six different Words in Holy Writ signifying a Lion, or the like.

They commonly understand not the Map of their own Country, or even the Model of their Town, whilst they study the Geography of Ancient Greece, Italy, of the Gauls in Julius Caesar's Time, or of the Streets and publick Places of old Rome. Labor stultorum, says the Wise-man, affliget eos qui nesciunt in urbem pergere. They know not the way to their City, yet are foolishly fatigu'd with fruitless Enquiries: They know not the Laws or Customs of the Places where they live, yet carefully study the Ancient Right, the Laws of the Twelve Tables, the Customs of the Lacedemonians, or of the Chinese, or the Ordinances of the Great Mogul. Lastly, they would know whatever's Rare, Extraordinary, and Remote, and unknown by others, having by an Overthrow of Reason affix'd the Idea of Learning to these things: whilst to be esteem'd Learned, 'tis enough to know what others know not, and yet be ignorant of the best and most necessary Truths. True, the Knowledge of all these things, and the like, is call'd Science, Erudition, Doctrine; Use will have it so: But there is a Science which the Scripture stiles Folly: Doctrina stultorum fatuitas. I never yet observ'd that the Holy Spirit, which bestows so many Elogies on Science, in Sacred Writ says any thing in Commendation of that false Science I have been speaking of.

CHAP. VIII.

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I. Of the Desire of seeming Learned. II. Of the Conversation of the Falsly Learned. III. Of their Works.

IF the immoderate Desire of Growing Learned makes Men oftentimes more ignorant,I. Of the Desire of seeming Learn'd. the Desire of being thought so, not only renders them more ignorant, but seems to give a total Subversion to their Reason. For the World abounds with such as lose common Sense, because they will out-shoot it; and speak nothing but silly things, because they will speak only in Paradox. They deviate so far from the common Thoughts of Mankind, whilst they purpose the acquiring the Character of Rare and Extraordinary Wits, that they effectively gain their point, and are never consider'd without much Admiration or Contempt.

They are regarded with Admiration, when being rais'd to some Preferment or Honour, which conceals them, we fancy them as much above others in their Parts and Learning, as they are by their Quality and Birth. But we frequently make a very different Estimate, when viewing them near at hand, and drawing the Curtain of their surrounding Grandeur, we find them contemptible, or even Fools and Changelings.

The Falsly Learn'd shew themselves manifestly in the Books they write, as also in their ordinary Conversation. It will not, perhaps, be amiss to give a proof of it.

As it is Vanity, and Desire of Ostentation, which engages them in their Studies;II. Of the Conversation of the falsly Learn'd. so when they find themselves in Company, the Passion and Desire of Preheminency re-kindles and transports them. They are instantly so high upon the Wing, that we lose sight of them; nor can they often themselves tell where they are. They are so fearful of not being above all their Auditors, that they are vex'd to think any one can teach them: they will stomach the Demand of an Explication, and upon the least opposition put on the Look of Scorn and Arrogance. In brief, The things they say are so novel, and extraordinary, and so remote from common Sense, that the Wise have much ado to hold from laughing, while the Ignorant are stunn'd and thunder-struck.

The first Heat being over, if any Man of an Head strong, and settl'd enough not to be overturn'd, shews that they are out, they will however stick obstinately to their Errours: the very Look of their confus'd and giddied Hearers, turns their own Head round; and the sight of so many Approvers, which they have convinc'd by the Impression, convinces them by rebound; at least, if it does not convince them, it flushes them with Courage to maintain their false Opinions. Their Vanity will not suffer them to make any Retraction: they constantly invent some Reason for their Defence. They never speak with greater Fervency and Zeal, than when they have nothing to say. They fancy it an Affront, and a Design to make them despicable, to offer any Reason against them: and the stronger and more judicious it is, the more it provokes their Pride and Aversion.

The best way to defend Truth against them, is, not to dispute it: for, 'tis better both for them and us to leave them to their Errours than provoke their Hatred. We must take care not to wound their Heart, when we would heal their Mind; the Wounds of the former being more dangerous than those of the latter: beside that, we sometimes fortune to have to do with a Person truly Learned, whom 'tis possible we may despise, for want of rightly taking his Conceptions. We must therefore request of those who talk in so decisive a Strain, to explain themselves as distinctly as they can, without suffering them to change the Subject, or make use of obscure and equivocal Terms: and if they be truly Learned, something may be got by their Discourse. But if they be falsly Learned, they will quickly be entangled and confounded by their own Words, and can thank no body for it but themselves. And even from hence we may, perhaps, receive some Instruction or Diversion, if we may be allow'd to divert our selves with others Infirmities, when we try to cure them. But what is more considerable, we shall prevent the weaker sort, who hear them with Admiration, from engaging in Errour, by following their Decisions.

For it must be observ'd, that Fools, or such as are Machinally manag'd, and follow sensible Impressions, being far more numerous than Men of an enlarg'd Thought, and governable by Reason; one of these Pretenders cannot dictate and determine upon a Point, but there always are more who believe him on his Word, than others who distrust him. But because these falsly Learn'd recede as far as possible from common Thoughts: either out of a desire of finding an Opponent, whom they roughly handle, to elevate and shew themselves; or a Subversion of Mind, and Spirit of Contradiction: their Decisions are, for the most part, false or obscure, and they are seldom attended to, without drawing the Contagion of Errour.

Now the Method of discovering the Corruptness or Solidity of others Opinions, is very difficultly put in practice. The Reason whereof is, That these Pretenders to Science are not the only Persons who would be thought to know every thing: 'Tis a Failing almost universal; but more especially incident to Men of some Reading and Study: which makes them always forward to talk, and explain their own Notions; but negligent and inadvertent as to other mens. Such as are most Complaisant and Rational, inwardly despising another's Opinion, make shew only of an Attentive Meen, whilst their Eyes betray their Thoughts, and shew that they are busied upon a [Page] quite contrary thing; not on answering what is said to them, but on what they desire to prove: which is the thing that frequently renders Conversation so disagreeable. For as there is nothing more grateful, or wherein a Man could honour us more, than the comprehending our Reasons, and approving our Opinions; so there is nothing so offensive as to see others not take, nor care to take our Meaning. For 'tis no pleasure to talk and converse with Statues; especially Statues that are only so to us, because they have little Esteem for us, are careless to please us, and sollicitous only to content themselves, by recommending their own Abilities. But if Men could hear, and answer well at once, Discourse would be most useful, as well as pleasant: whereas whilst every one endeavours to be reputed Learned, all that's got by it is Conceitedness, and unintelligible Disputes. Charity is sometimes wounded, and Truth seldom discovered.

But the Ramblings which the Falsly Learned are in their Conversation subject to, are in some measure excusable. It may be said in their behalf, that in these Discourses Men use not much Caution and Advertency; and that the nicest and most judicious fall frequently into Trifles and Impertinencies: and that they don't intend a Collection should be made of their Sayings, as was of Scaliger's and Cardinal du Perron's.

There is Reason in these Excuses, and we are easie to believe these Faults deserve some sort of Indulgence. We are indeed willing to talk in Company; but there are some unfortunate Seasons, in which we but ill succeed. We are not always in temper to think, or to speak justly: and the time is so short in some Conjunctures, that the Mind never so little clouded or absent, miserably falls into extravagant Absurdities, even in Persons most accurate and piercing.

But though the Faults which the Falsly Learned are guilty of in Conversation, are excusable; yet those they commit in their Books, after due Thinking and Consideration, are unpardonable; especially if frequent, and not compensated by some good things: For by writing an ill Book, a Man occasions loss of time to a multitude of Readers; subjects them to the same Errours he himself is guilty of, and causes them to deduce still many others from them: which is not a little Evil.

But though it be a greater Crime than is imagin'd, to compose an Evil, or only an Useless Book; yet the Author is oftner rewarded than punish'd for it. For some Crimes there are which escape the Lash, either because they are the Fashion, or because the Judges are not courageous enough to condemn such Criminals as they think more Ingenious than themselves.

For Authors are commonly look'd on as rare and extraordinary Persons, above the ordinary size of Men; and therefore are reverenc'd instead of being despis'd and punish'd. So that there is little hopes of having a Tribunal erected for the trying and condemning all the Books that tend only to debauch and corrupt Reason.

And for this Reason, we must never expect to have the Republick of Learning better govern'd than any other; as consisting of Men no less than the rest. But in order to free our selves from Errour, 'tis fit that even greater Liberty be permitted in this than other Republicks, where Novelty is always dangerous. For it would be a means to confirm us in our present Errours, to rob the Literate World of its Liberty, and indifferently to condemn all sorts of Novelties.

'Tis hop'd then, I shall not be blam'd for speaking against the Government of the Learned Commonwealth, and endeavouring to shew, that frequently the Great Men of it, who for their profound Learning are the Admiration of the rest, are at bottom but haughty and vain Creatures, void of Judgment, and all true Science. I am oblig'd to use this freedom of Speech, to prevent a blindfold Submission to their Decisions, and engaging in their Errours.

III. Of the Books of the Falsly Learn'd.The Proofs of their Vanity, their want of Judgment, and of their Ignorance, are evidently deduc'd from their own Works: For if a Man would take the pains to examine them with purpose to judge of them by the Light of common Sense, un-forestall'd with an Esteem for these Authors, he might find that the Designs of their Studies are mostly such as an injudicious Vanity has formed, and their principal End, not the perfecting their Reason; and much less the regulating the Motions of their Heart; but only the puzzling others, and seeming Wiser Men than they.

From this Prospect it is (as has been said before) that they treat but of rare and unusual Subjects, and explain themselves in as rare and unusual Terms, and quote only rare and extraordinary Authors. They disdain to write in their own Language, as being too common; or in plain, perspicuous, and easie Latin, since their Design is, not to be Understood, but only to Write, and to be Admir'd. They seldom apply themselves to Subjects that are serviceable to the management of Life; that's too trite and vulgar: it not being their purpose to be useful to others, or themselves, but only to be reputed Learned.

They either alledge no Reasons of things which they advance; or if they do, they are so mysterious and incomprehensible, as neither themselves, nor any body else, can evidently conceive. Clear Reasons they have none; but if they had, they would not use them: because they surprize not the Mind, are thought too simple and common, and suited to the Abilities of all Mankind. They rather bring Authorities to prove, or with pretence to prove their Notions: for the Authorities employ'd seldom prove any thing by the Sense they contain, but only by being Greek and Arabick. But perhaps it will be pertinent to speak something of their Quotations, which will acquaint us in part with the disposition of their Mind.

It is, methinks, manifest that nothing but a falsly-term'd Learning, and a Spirit of Polimathy, could bring these Citations into fashion, as they have formerly been, and are still at this day with some of the Learned. For 'tis usual with some Authors to be perpetually quoting long Sentences, without any Reason for it: whether because the things they advance are too clear to be [Page] doubted of; or that they are too intricate and obscure to be made out by the Authority of their Authors; since they could know nothing of them: or lastly, because the Citations inserted are inserviceable to adorn and beautifie their Discourse.

'Tis repugnant to common Sense, to bring a Greek Passage to prove the Air transparent, because 'tis evident to all the World; to employ the Authority of Aristotle to persuade us that Intelligences move the Heavens, because we are certain Aristotle could not know it; and lastly, to mingle strange Languages, Arabian and Persian Proverbs with French, English, or Latin Books, written for every body: forasmuch as these Citations cannot be ornamental; at least, are such fantastical Ornaments as disgust most Persons, and can satisfie but very few.

Nevertheless, the greatest part of those who would fain be thought Learned, are so extreamly pleas'd with this kind of Gi [...]rish, that they blush not to quote in strange Tongues which they do not understand; and tug might and main to draw into their Books an Arabick Passage, which they cannot so much as read. Thus they puzzle themselves strangely, to effect a thing repugnant to good Sense; but that sacrifices to their Vanity, and makes them esteem'd by So [...]s.

One very considerable Fault is still behind; which is, that they are but in little care to seem to have read with Choice and Judgment: all they desire being, to be reckon'd great Readers, especially of obscure Books, that they may seem more Learned; of Books that are scarce and dear, that they may be thought to have every thing; of wicked and impious Books (which honest Men are afraid to read) with much the same Spirit as some boast to have acted Crimes, which others dare not. Hence they rather cite very Dear, very Rare, very Ancient and Obscure Books, than other more Common and Intelligible: Astrological, Cabalistical, and Magical Books, than such as are good and wholesome: as if they did not see, that Reading being a kind of Conversing, they should rather desire to seem industriously to have sought the Acquaintance of Good and Intelligible, than Wicked and Obscure Authors.

For, as no Man in his Senses would chuse out for ordinary Converse People that want an Interpreter, when the same things that are to be learn'd of them might be known another way; so 'tis ridiculous to read Books not to be understood without a Dictionary, when the same things may be had in those that are more intelligible. And, as it is a sign of a deprav'd Nature, to affect the Company and Conversation of the Impious; so 'tis the Criterion of a corrupt Heart, to delight in reading Wicked Books. But 'tis an extravagant Pride, for a Man to pretend to have read those which he has not: which yet is a thing of very common occurrence. For we find Men of Thirty Years standing, quote more ill Books in their Works, than they could have read in many Ages: whilst they would have others believe, they have very exactly read them. But most of the Books of some of these Learned Gentlemen, owe their Birth to the kind Dictionary, and all their Reading may be reduc'd to the Indexes of the Books they quote, and some Common Places heap'd together from out of different Authors.

I venture not to enter into the Particulars of these things, nor to give Instances to prove them; for fear of provoking Persons so fierce and cholerick as these Learned Pretenders, as not caring to be revil'd in Greek and Arabick. Besides that, 'tis needless more sensibly to evince what I have said by particular Allegations, the Mind of Man being ready enough to tax the Management of others, and make particular Application of this Discourse. In the mean time, let them hug themselves, and feed upon this vain Fantom of Greatness; and give one another the Applauses which we deny them. For we have been, perhaps, already too troublesome, by molesting them in their so seemingly sweet and grateful Enjoyments.

CHAP. IX.

How the Inclination for Honours and Riches conduces to Errour.

HOnours and Riches, no less than Vertue and Science, which we have already spoke of, are principal Acquirements to give us the Ascendant over other Men. For there seems to accrue to our Being a Growth and Enlargement, and kind of Independency from the Possession of these Advantages. So that the Love we have for our selves, naturally streaming out to Honours and Riches, every body may be said to have some sort of Inclination for them. We will explain in brief, how these Inclinations obviate the Discovery of Truth, and engage us in Falshood and Errour.

It has been shewn in several places, that much Time and Labour, Assiduity and Contention of Mind, must go to the clearing up Compound Truths, surrounded with Difficulties, and depending on many Principles. Whence it is easie to conclude, that Men of publick Characters, of great Employments, who have large Estates to look after, and great Affairs to manage, and whose Hearts are fix'd upon Riches and Honours, are not the fittest Enquirers after Truth; and that they commonly err in point of all things, difficultly known whenever they pretend to judge of them: And that because,

First, They have little time to lay out in the Search of Truth.

Secondly, They take but little Pleasure in this Search.

[Page]Thirdly, They are very incapable of Attention, because the Capacity of their Mind is divided by the multitude of the Ideas of the things they wish for; which take up their Thoughts whether they will or no.

In the fourth place, They fancy they know every thing, and can hardly be induc'd to believe their Inferiours have more Reason than themselves: some Matters of Fact they may vouchsafe to learn of them, but are above being taught by them solid and necessary Truths: contradict them, or disabuse them, and they fly out in a Passion.

In the fifth place, Because much Incense of Applause is usually given them in all their Imaginations, though never so false and remote from common Sense; and such as differ from their Opinion, though only to defend undeniable Truths, are rally'd and ridicul'd: And 'tis the fulsome Flatteries of those about them, that strengthen them in their Errours, encourage that illegitimate Esteem of themselves, and set them up for unappealable Judges of all things.

In the sixth place, They dwell only upon Sensible Notions, as fitter for common Conversation, and to keep up the Esteem of Men, than the pure and abstract Ideas of the Mind, which we employ in the finding out of Truth.

Lastly, Those who aspire to any Dignity, strive, as much as possible, to accommodate and demean themselves to the Measure and Capacity of others; because nothing provokes Mens Envy and Aversion like the pretending to uncommon Notions. Rare it is for Men, whose Minds and Hearts are taken up with the Thoughts and Desires of making their Fortunes, to be able to discover hidden Truths: but when they do, they abdicate them out of Interest, and because the Defence of them will not accord with their Ambition. A Man must side commonly with Injustice to become a Magistrate: Solid and uncommon Piety is a frequent Bar to a Benefice; and the generous Love of Truth, often deprives Men of the Pulpit it should be taught in.

All these Reasons in conjunction, extremely subject Men to Errour; and incapacitate, for the Discovery of occult Truths, such as are exalted above others by their Honours, Birth, and Fortune, or who are only intent upon making Establishments, and raising Estates. For among the things that are requisite to the avoiding Errour, in Questions any whit abstruse, there are two especially not easie to be met with in the Persons foremention'd; viz. Attention of Mind, to go to the bottom of Things; and Retention, not to judge of them with too much Precipitation. Those very Men who are Elected for the Instructing others, and who should have no other Aim or Interest, than the qualifying themselves for that purpose, commonly grow Erroneous as soon as they take Publick Employments: either because having but little time to themselves, they cannot give Attention and Application to things that require much; or, that being strangely ambitious of being thought Learned, they confidently pronounce of all things without Reserve, and are impatient either of Opposition or Instruction.

CHAP. X.

Of the Love of Pleasure, with regard to Morality. I. That Pleasure is to be shunn'd, though it make us happy. II. It ought not to carry us to the loving Sensible Goods.

WE have treated in the three last Chapters, of the Inclination we have for the Preservation of our Being; and shewn how it occasions us to fall into several Errours. We shall now speak to That we have for our Well-being; that is, for Pleasures, and whatever makes us more happy or content, or is thought capable of doing it: And we will attempt to discover the Errors that spring from this Inclination.

There is a Tribe of Philosophers, that endeavour to persuade the World, That Pleasure is no Good, nor Pain an Evil; that 'tis possible to be happy in the midst of most violent Pains, and miserable in the midst of the greatest Pleasures. As these Philosophers are very Pathetical and Imaginative, they carry away weak Minds which give way to the Impression their Discourse produces in them: For the Stoicks are somewhat Visionary, and Visionists are vehement; and so easily imprint on others the false Sentiments they are themselves prepossess'd with. But because there is no Conviction against Experience, and internal Conscience, or Sensation; all these pompous and magnificent Reasons, which dazle and stagger the Imaginations of Men, vanish with all their Gaudery and Lustre, as soon as the Soul is touch'd with any sensible Pleasure and Pain. And those who have plac'd all their Confidence in this false Persuasion of their Mind, find themselves, upon the least Assault of Vice, destitute of Wisdom, forceless, and unnerv'd: they are sensible they were deceiv'd, and find they are vanquish'd.

I. Pleasure ought to be shunn'd, tho' it makes us happy.If the Philosophers cannot give their Disciples Strength to Conquer their Passions, they should at least forbear to seduce them, and make them fancy they have no Enemies to Assault. Things should be spoken as they are: Pleasure is always a Good, and Pain always an Evil: But it is not always for our Good, to enjoy Pleasure; and 'tis sometimes advantageous to suffer Pain.

But to make my Meaning more intelligible, we must know,

[Page]First, That none but GOD is powerful enough to act upon us, and to produce in us the Sense of Pleasure and Pain. For 'tis manifest to every Man that consults his Reason, and despises the Reports of Sense, that 'tis not the Sensible Objects that really act upon us, nor is it any more the Soul that produces in her self her Pain and Pleasure occasionally from them.

Secondly, That in ordinary Procedure no Good is to be given, but to encourage us to, or recompence us for some good Action; nor any Evil to be afflicted, but either to prevent a wicked Action, or to punish it; and therefore since GOD always acts with Order, and by the Rules of Justice, every Pleasure must incline us to some Good Action, or Reward us for it, and every Pain avert us from some bad Action, or punish us for it.

Thirdly, There are Actions which are good in one sense, and evil in another. 'Tis, for instance, an evil Action to expose ones self to Death when GOD forbids it; but a good, when he commands it. For all our Actions are good or bad, because GOD had commanded or forbidden them by his first General Will, which is the Order and Institution of Nature; or by his other Wills or particular Commandments, which are necessary to its re-establishment.

I affirm then, That Pleasure is always good, but that it is not always advantageous to enjoy it; and that first, Because instead of engaging us to him, who alone is capable of causing it; it disengages us from him, to unite us to the falsly seeming Cause of it: it loosens us from GOD, to unite us to a vile Creature. For though those whom true Philosophy has enlightned, think sometimes that Pleasure is not caus'd by External Objects, which may in some measure incline them to the acknowledging and loving GOD in all things; yet since the Sin ▪ the Reason of Man is so feeble, and his Senses and Imagination so prevalent over his Mind that they speedily corrupt his Heart, whilst he deprives not himself, according to the Advice of the Gospel, of whatever leads not of it self to GOD. For the best Philosophy is unable to cure the Mind, and withstand the Corruptions of Pleasure.

Secondly, Because Pleasure being a Reward, it is an Act of Injustice for a Man to produce in his Body those Motions which oblige GOD, pursuant to his first Will, to give us the Sensation of Pleasure, when we don't deserve it; either because the Action we do is unprofitable, or criminal; or that being full of Sin, we have no Right to demand a Recompence. The Enjoyment of Sensible Pleasures was justly due to Man in his Regular Actions, whilst he remain'd Innocent. But [...]ince the Fall, there are no Sensible Pleasures entirely innocent, or incapable of harming us when we taste them. For it is commonly sufficient only to taste them, to become their Slave.

Thirdly, GOD being Just, cannot chuse but punish one day the Violence that was done him, by obliging him to reward with Pleasure criminal Actions committed against him. When our Soul shall be dis-united from our Body, GOD will be dispens'd from the Obligation he has impos'd upon himself of giving Sensations answerable to the Motions of the Animal Spirits; but he will still be oblig'd to satisfie his Justice: and so that will be the season of his Wrath and Vengeance. Then though he change not the Order of Nature, but remain ever fix'd and immutable in his first Will, he will punish the unmerited Pleasures of the Voluptuous with Pains that will never have an end.

Fourthly, Because the Certainty we have in this Life of the future Execution of that Justice, exagi [...]ates the Mind with dreadful Anxieties, and throws it into a sort of Despair, which renders the Voluptuous miserable, even amidst the greatest Pleasures.

Fifthly, Because of those disquieting Remorses, which almost ever attend the most Innocent Pleasures, by reason we are inwardly convinc'd we don't deserve them: which Remorses rob us of a certain internal Joy that is found even in the Severities of Repentance.

And therefore though Pleasure be a Good, yet it must be acknowledg'd, that the Enjoyment of it is not always to our Advantage, for the foregoing Reasons: And for others of like nature, most requisite to be known, and easily deducible from them; it must be granted, that it is most commonly highly advantageous to suffer Pain, though really an Evil.

Nevertheless, every Pleasure is a Good, and actually makes happy the Enjoyer at the time of Enjoyment, and so long as he enjoys it: and every Pain is an Evil, and makes the Sufferer actually unhappy at the instant of suffering, and so much as he suffers it. The Righteous and Holy may be said to be the most miserable of all Men in this Life, and most worthy of Compassion. Si in vita tantum in Christo speramus, miserabiliores sumus omnibus hominibus, says St. Paul. 1 Cor. 15.16. For those that weep, and suffer Persecution for Righteousness sake, are not blessed for suffering Persecution for the sake of Righteousness, but because the Kingdom of Heaven is Theirs; and a great Reward is laid up for them in Heaven: that is, because they shall be happy. Such as are persecuted for Righteousness, are thereby Righteous, Vertuous, and Perfect, as being in the Divine Order, and because Perfection consists in the observing it. But they are not happy, because they suffer. There shall be a time when they shall suffer no more, and then they shall be happy, as well as righteous and perfect.

However, I deny not but the Righteous even in this Life may be in some measure happy, by the Strength of their Hope and Faith, which bring those future Goods as it were present to their Minds: For it is certain, that the vigorous and lively Hope of any Good brings it closer to the Mind, and anticipates the Enjoyment: and thus makes a Man happy in part, since 'tis the Taste and the Possession of Good, 'tis Pleasure, that makes us happy.

Therefore we should not tell Men that Sensible Pleasures are not good, and that they render the Possessors never the Happier, since this is false; and at the time of Temptation they find it so to their Misfortune. They ought to be told, That these Pleasures are in their own nature good, [Page] and after a sort capable to make them happy; yet for all that to be avoided, for such like Reasons as the foremention'd; but that they have not strength enough to withstand them of themselves, because they desire to be happy by an invincible Inclination, which these transitory Pleasures, to be avoided by them, in some measure satisfie: and therefore are under a fatal necessity of being lost, unless rescued and assisted. These things are to be inculcated to them, to give them a distinct Knowledge of their own Imbecillities, and their need of a Redeemer.

We ought to speak to Men as our Lord, and not as the Stoicks do, who understand neither the Nature nor Distemper of an humane Mind. We must continually tell them they are to hate and despise themselves, and not look for a Settlement and Happiness here below; that they must continually bear their Cross, or the Instrument of their Suffering, and lose their Life at present, to save it everlastingly. Lastly, we must shew them their Obligation to act quite contrary to their Desires, to make them sensible of their Impotence to Good. For their Will is invincibly bent on Happiness; which 'tis impossible actually to obtain, without doing what they have a Mind to. Perhaps being sensible of their present Evils, and knowing their future, they will humble themselves on Earth: possibly they will cry to Heaven, will seek out a Mediator, stand in fear of sensible Objects, and conceive a salutary Abhorrence for whatever flatters Concupiscence and their Senses. Probably they may enter into that Spirit of Prayer and Repentance so necessary to the obtaining Grace, without which no Strength, no Health, no Salvation can be expected.

II. It ought not to carry us to the loving Sensible Goods.We are inwardly convinc'd, that Pleasure is good; which inward Conviction is not false: for Pleasure is really so. We are naturally convinc'd, that Pleasure is the Character of Good, and that natural Conviction is certainly true: for whatever causes Pleasure, is unquestionably very good, and amiable. But we are not assur'd that sensible Objects, or even our Soul it self, are capable of producing Pleasure in us. For there is no reason why we should believe it, but a thousand why we should not. Thus sensible Objects are neither good nor amiable: they are to be employ'd, as serviceable to the Preservation of Life; but we must not love them, as being incapable of acting upon us. The Soul ought only to love what is good to her, and able to make her happier and more perfect: and therefore nothing but what's above her can be the Object of her Love, since 'tis evident her Perfection can derive from nothing that is not so.

But because we judge that a Thing is the Cause of some Effect when it constantly attends it, we imagine that sensible Objects act on us, because at their approach we have fresh Sensations, and because we see not him who causes them really in us. In tasting a Fruit, we have a Sensation of Sweetness; and we attribute that Sweetness to the Fruit, which we judge both to cause it and contain it. We see not GOD, as we see and touch this Fruit; nay, we do not so much as think on him, nor perhaps on our selves. And so we judge not that GOD is the true Cause of that Sweetness; nor that it is a Modification of our Soul: but impute both the Cause and Effect to the Fruit we eat.

What I have said of Sensations relating to the Body, may be understood of those which have no relation to it; such are those which are incident to pure Intelligences.

A Spirit contemplates it self, and finds nothing wanting to its Happiness or Perfection, or else sees that it is not in possession of what it desires. Upon the View of its Happiness it feels Joy; upon the sight of its Misery it feels Sorrow. It immediately imagines, that 'tis the sight of its Happiness which produces in it self this Sensation of Joy; because this Sensation still accompanies this Perception; and fancies likewise that the sight of its Misery is what produces in it the Sensation of Sorrow: because the latter is a constant Attendant of the former. The true Cause of these Sensations, which is GOD alone, does not appear to it; nor does it, it may be, think on GOD. For GOD acts in us in an imperceptible manner.

GOD rewards us with a Sense of Joy, when we find our selves in the state we ought to be in, to the intent we may continue in it, that our Anxiety may cease; and that we may fully enjoy our Happiness without suffering the Capacity of our Mind to be taken up with any thing else. But he produces in us a Sensation of Sorrow, when we know we are not in our convenien [...] state, to the end we may not stay in it; but restlesly seek out for the Perfection which we want. For GOD continually drives us towards Good, when we know that we do not possess it, but gives us a powerful Check when we see we are fully possess'd of it. Wherefore 'tis evident to me, that the Sensations of Intellectual Joy and Sorrow, no less than Sensible, are not the voluntary Productions of the Mind.

Our Reason then should constantly teach us to discover that invisible Hand which fills us with Good, and which lies disguis'd to our Mind under Sensible Appear [...]nces. This Hand we are to adore and to love, and also to fear; since though it loads us with Pleasures, it can likewise over-whelm us with Pains. We ought to love it with a Love of Choice, an enlightned Love, a Love worthy of GOD, and our selves. Our Love is worthy of GOD, when it proceeds from our Knowledge of his being Amiable: and this Love is worthy of our selves; for that being Reasonable Creatures, we ought to bestow our Love on that which Reason teaches us is worthy of it. But we love sensible Things with a Love unworthy our selves, and undeserv'd by them: whilst being reasonable, we love them without any Reason for it; as not clearly knowing them to be lovely: and on the contrary, knowing they are not. But we are betray'd by Pleasure to the Love of them; the blind and irregular Love of Pleasure being the true Cause of the false Judgments of Men in Subjects of Morality.

CHAP. XI.

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Of the Love of Pleasure, with Reference to Speculative Sciences. I. How it disables us from discovering Truth. II. Some Instances.

OUR Inclination for Sensible Pleasures being misgovern'd, is not only the Original of those dangerous Errours we are guilty of, in Subjects of Morality, and the general Cause of the Corruption of our Manners; but likewise one of the main Causes of the Depravation of our Reason: And it insensibly engages us in most gross, but less dangerous Errours, in point of Subjects purely Speculative; because it disables us from bringing a sufficient Attention to comprehend and judge well of things that do not affect us.

We have spoken several times already of the Difficulty we find to apply our selves to Subjects somewhat Abstract, the Subject of our Discourse requiring it. As towards the End of the First Book, where we shew'd that Sensible Ideas more affecting the Soul, than Ideas purely Intellectual, she was more taken up with the out-side manners than the Things themselves. So again, in the Second, where treating of the Tenderness of the Fibres of the Brain, we shew'd whence the Softness of certain Effeminate Minds proceeded. Lastly, in the Third, when speaking of the Attention of the Mind, it was necessary to shew, that it was very careless of things Speculative; but very attentive to such as affected her, and made her feel Pleasure or Pain.

Our Errours have most commonly several Causes contributing to their Rise; so that it ought not to be thought it is for want of Order, that we repeat almost the same things, and assign several Causes of the same Errours; it is really because they have so many. I still speak of Occasional Causes; for we have often declar'd, they have no other true and real Cause, than the wrong use of our Liberty; which wrong use consists in our not using it so much as we might, as we have explain'd at the beginning of this Treatise.

We are not therefore to be blam'd, if, in order to make it fully conceiv'd, how, for Instance, the Sensible Manners Things are involv'd in, surprize and lead us into Errour, we were oblig'd, by way of Anticipation, to speak of our Inclination for Pleasures in the other Books, which seems fitter to have been reserv'd for this, wherein we purposely treat of the Natural Inclinations; (and the same may be said of other things in other places:) All the harm that will come of it, is this, that we may dispense with many things here, which we had been oblig'd to explain, if it had not been done elsewhere.

All things in the Humane Nature are so link'd and twin'd to one another, that we find our selves often, as it were, over-whelm'd with the Number of things necessary to be said at the same time, to set our Conceptions in an open and clear Light. We are sometimes forc'd to let things go unseparated, which Nature has join'd together; and to proceed against our own prescrib'd Method, when this Method throws us in Confusion, as it inevitably does on some Occasions. And yet, after all, it is impossible to make others take in all our Conceptions. All that can commonly be pretended to, is, to put others in a Capacity of discovering with Pleasure and Ease what we have discover'd our selves with great Pains and Fatigation. And since 'tis impossible to make any Discovery without Attention, our Studies should be chiefly employ'd on Means of making others Attentive. This is what we have essay'd to do, though, we must acknowledge, but weakly perform'd; and we are the willinger to confess we have been defective, that the Confession may provoke our Readers to supply themselves, what is wanting in us, to make them attentive, in order to penetrate the Bottom of Subjects, which deserve to be thorowly consider'd.

Infinite are the Errours wherein our Inclination for Pleasures, and in general for whatever affects us, engages us; because that Inclination dissipates the Sight of the Mind, and fixes it con [...]inually on the confus'd Ideas of the Senses, and the Imagination; and inclines us to judge over-hastily of all things by the bare Relation which they have to us.

Truth never appears but when we see things as they are in themselves; which we never do,I. How it disables us from disvering Truth. unless we see them in him who contains them, in an intelligible manner. When we perceive them within our selves, we perceive them at a very lame and imperfect rate; or rather we perceive our own Sensations, and not the things we desire to perceive, and which we falsly think we do.

To see things as they are in themselves, requires much Application, because at present we cannot unite to GOD without great Pain and Reluctancy: But to see them in our selves, requires no Application at all on our part, since we are sensible of what touches us whether we will or no. We do not naturally find any Preventing Pleasure in our Union with GOD; the pure Ideas of things do not touch and quicken us: Therefore the Inclination we have for Pleasure, is not a Means to apply and unite us to GOD, but on the contrary slackens our Engagements to him, and perpetually removes us farther from him, carrying us continually to consider things by their Sensible Ideas, because these false and impure Ideas are those that affect us. Love of Pleasure then, and the Actual Enjoyment of it, which revives and corroborates this Love, throw us continually off Truth, to plunge us into Errour.

[Page]Those therefore who would draw near to Truth, to be illuminated by its Light, must begin by the Privation of Pleasure. They must carefully shun whatever sensibly affects, and agreeably shares the Mind. For the Voice of Truth cannot be heard, unless in the Silence of the Senses and the Passions: An Aversion to the World, and Contempt for all Sensible things, being equally necessary to the Perfection of the Mind as to the Conversion of the Heart.

When our Pleasures are great, and our Sensations lively▪ we are incapable of the most simple Truths; nor do we agree to common Notions, unless of a sensible Make and Character. When our Pleasures, or other Sensations are moderate, we may discover some plain and easie Truths: But if it were possible to be absolutely delivered from Pleasures and Sensations, we should be able easily to discover the most abstract and difficult Truths that are known. For proportionably to our Removing from what is not GOD, we approach to GOD himself; we avoid Errour, and discover Truth. But ever since the Fall, since the disorderly Love of Preventing Pleasure, which domineers and triumphs, the Mind is grown so weak, that it can pierce into nothing; and so materializ'd, and dependent on its Senses, that it cannot lay hold of things abstract and unaffecting. With much ado it perceives common Notions, and for want of Advertency, frequently concludes them false or obscure. It cannot distinguish the Truth of things from their Utility, the Relation they have to one another, from the Relation they have to it self, and often takes those to be most true that are most useful, agreeable, and moving. Finally, this Inclination infects and muddies all our Perceptions of Objects, and consequently all the Judgements that we make of them. Here follows some Examples:

II. Some Instances.'Tis a common Notion, that Vertue is preferable to Vice; that 'tis better to be Sober and Chast, than Intemperate and Voluptuous. But the Inclination for Pleasure so strangely confounds that Idea on certain Occasions, that we have but a transient glimpse of it, nor can draw those Consequences from it that are necessary to the Management of Life. The Soul is violently bent upon the Pleasures she hopes for, that she supposes them innocent, and seeks only for the Means of enjoying them.

Every body well knows that 'tis more eligible to be Just than Rich: That Justice exalts a Man more than the Possession of the most magnificent Buildings, which often serve more to manifest the Greatness of the Injustices and Crimes of the Possessor, than his own Grandeur. But the Pleasure that wretched Men receive in the vain Ostentation of their false Grandeur, sufficiently fills up the narrow Capacity of their Mind, to conceal and obscure so evident a Truth from them. They absurdly imagine they are Great Men, because they have Great Houses.

Special Algebra, (or Analyticks,) is certainly the finest, I mean the most fruitful and most certain of all Sciences. Without it, the Mind has neither Penetration nor Extent; and with it, it is capable of knowing almost whatever is possible to be certainly and evidently known. As imperfect as this Science has been, it has made Famous all that have been skill'd in't, and knew how to employ it, having by it discover'd Truths that seem'd incomprehensible to other Men. It is so well proportion'd to an Humane Mind, that without dividing its Capacity with things useless to the Question, it infallibly conducts it to its Point. In a word, it is an Universal Science, and as it were the Key of all other. Yet as valuable as it is in it self, it has no Charms nor Lustre to captivate Men; for this Reason only, that it is not of a Sensible Nature. It has been buried in Oblivion for many Ages, and there are still very many that know not so much as the Name; and scarce one in a thousand to be found that understands any thing of it. The most Learned, who have reviv'd it in our Days, have not yet carried it very far, nor handled it with that Order and Perspicuity it deserves. Being Men no less than others, they have grown at length disgusted with these pure Truths, whilst unaccompanied with Sensible Pleasure; and the Uneasiness of their Will, debauch'd by Sin; the Levity of their Mind, which depends on the Motion and Circulation of the Blood, have with-held them from feeding and growing upon those great, those vast and second Truths, which are the Immutable and Universal Rules of all transitory and particular Truths possible to be exactly known.

Metaphysick likewise is an Abstract Science, which flatters not the Senses, nor does the Soul receive any Pleasure in the Study of it; and for the same Reason it is so miserably neglected, that 'tis usual to find Persons stupid enough confidently to deny Common Notions. There are those who stick not to deny, that we may, or ought to affirm of a thing, what is included in the clear and distinct Idea we have of it: That Nothing has no Properties: That a thing cannot be annihilated without a Miracle: That a Body cannot move by any Force of its own: That a Body in Motion cannot communicate to occurrent Bodies more Motion than it has it self; and other things of the same kind. They have never consider'd these Axioms with a View steady, and distinct enough, to see clearly the Truth of them; and they have sometimes try'd Experiments, which have abusively convinc'd them, that some of these Axioms were false.

They have seen in certain Junctures, that two visible Bodies meeting each others, have ceas'd to move at the Instant of their Collision. They have observ'd in others, that the impuls'd Body had more Motion than the visible impelling; and this sensible Observation of some Experiments, the Reasons whereof they don't perceive, makes them determine about things against certain Principles, and which go for common Notions with all Attentive and Considering Men. Ought they not to consider, that Motions may be communicated from Visible to Invisible Bodies, when Bodies meet in their Motion? And from Visible to Invisible on other Occasions? When a Body is suspended by a Cord, 'tis not the Scissars which cut the Cord, which gives Motion to that Body, but an Invisible Matter: When we throw a Fire-coal into an heap of Gun-pouder, 'tis not the Motion of Coal, but an Invisible Matter which separates all the Parts of the Pouder, and actuates them with a Motion capable of blowing up an House. A thousand unknown Ways there are whereby the Motion of an Invisible Matter is communicated to Gross and Visible Bodies: [Page] At least it is not evident that it cannot be done, as it is evident that the moving Force of Bodies can neither be augmented nor diminish'd by the ordinary Strength of Nature.

Thus Men seeing that the Wood they throw on the Fire ceases to be what it was, and that all the sensible Qualities they observe in it, vanish away, imagine from thence they have Right to conclude it possible for a thing to return into Nothing, whence it came. They see the Wood no more, and they see but a few Ashes that succeed it, and thereupon judge that the greatest part of the Wood is reduc'd to nothing, as if it could not be separated into Parts not possible to be seen. At least it is not so evident that this is impossible, as it is evident that the Power which gives Being to all things is not liable to Change; and that by the ordinary Force of Nature, Being cannot be reduc'd to Nothing, as Nothing cannot begin to be. But few Men know what it is to retire into themselves, to hear the Voice of Truth speaking to them within, by which they ought to judge of all things; 'tis their Eyes that govern their Determinations. They judge by what they feel, and not by what they conceive; for they feel with Pleasure, but conceive with Pain.

Demand of all the Men in the World, whether it may not be affirm'd without Danger of Errour, that the Whole is greater than its Part; and I am positive not one will be found, but will immediately answer pertinently to the Question. Ask them afterwards, whether we may with the same Security affirm of a thing, what we clearly conceive to be included in the Idea representing it, and you'll find that few will grant it without boggling and hesitation; more will deny, and most of all will not know what to say to't. And yet this Metaphysical Axiom, viz. That we affirm of a thing what we clearly conceive to be contain'd in the Idea that represents it, is more evident than this Axiom, The Whole is bigger than its Part: For as much as this last is not an Axiom, but only a Conclusion in respect of the former; it may be prov'd from the former Axiom, That the Whole is bigger than its Part; but the former can't be prov'd by any other, as being absolutely the First and the Foundation of all clear and evident Knowledge. Whence comes it then that no body hesitates at this Conclusion, and yet many doubt of the Principle from whence 'tis taken; but only that the Ideas of Whole and Part are sensible, and we see, as we may so say, with our Eyes, that the Whole is bigger than its Part, but have no ocular Proof of the Truth of the prime Fundamental Axiom of all the Sciences?

Whereas there is nothing is this Axiom which naturally fixes and applies the Mind, we must be willing to consider it, and that too with some Constancy and Resolution, to be evidently convinc'd of the Truth of it. The Earnestness of the Will must supply the Defect of sensible Inducements: But the Thoughts of considering Objects which have no Charms for the Senses, never enter Mens Heads; or if they do, their Endeavour is too languid and ineffectual.

For (to carry on our said Instance) they think 'tis evident, That the Whole is bigger than its Part; that a Mountain of Marble is possible; and that a Mountain without a Valley is impossible, but that there is not equal Evidence for the Existence of a GOD. Nevertheless, we may assert, that there is equal Evidence in all these Propositions, since they are all at an equal distance from the first Principle.

This is the first Principle: We must attribute that to a thing which we clearly conceive to be contain'd in the Idea that represents it. We clearly apprehend there is more Magnitude in the Idea we have of the Whole, than in that we have of its Part; that Possible Existence is contain'd in the Idea of a Marble Mountain, Impossible Existence in the Idea of a Mountain without a Valley, and Necessary Existence in the Idea we have of GOD; that is, of a Being Infinitely Perfect. Therefore the Whole is greater than its Part; therefore a Marble Mountain is possible to exist; therefore 'tis impossible for a Mountain without a Vale to exist; therefore GOD, or Being Infinitely Perfect, necessarily exists. It is visible that these Conclusions are equally remote from the first Principle of all the Sciences, and therefore are equally evident in themselves; and so 'tis as evident that GOD exists, as that the Whole is bigger than its Part. But because the Ideas of Infinite, of Perfections, of Necessary Existence, are not sensible, as are the Ideas of Whole and Part, Men fancy they have no Perception of what they have no Sensation; and though these Conclusions are equally evident in themselves, yet they are not equally receiv'd.

There are Men who would fain persuade us, that they have no Idea of an Infinitely Perfect Being; which makes me wonder how they came to answer positively to the Demand, Whether an Infinitely Perfect Being is round, or square, or the like: For they ought to say, they did not know, if it were true that they had no Idea of it.

There are another sort who acknowledge it is good Arguing to conclude, that GOD is not an Impossible Being, from the Perception we have that the Idea of GOD involves no Contradiction, or Impossible Existence; and they will not allow us to conclude in like manner, that GOD necessarily exists, from our conceiving Necessary Existence to be included in the Idea we have of him.

Lastly, There are others who pretend, that this Proof of the Existence of a GOD is a Fallacy; and the Argument is conclusive only on the Supposition of the Truth of GOD's existing, as if we did not prove it. Our Proof is this: We are to attribute to a thing what we clearly conceive to be included in the Idea that represents it. This is the General Principle of all the Sciences. Necessary Existence is included in the Idea that represents a Being Infinitely Perfect. They willingly grant it; and consequently we must conclude, that an Infinitely Perfect Being exists. Allow'd, say they, on Supposition that this Being Exists.

But let us make a like Answer to a like Argument, that we may judge of the solidity of their Answer. A like Argument is this: We are to attribute to a thing what we clearly conceive to be included in the Idea that represents it. This is the Principle. We clearly conceive four Angles to be included in the Idea which represents a Square; or, we clearly conceive possible Existence [Page] to be included in the Idea of a Marble Tower. Therefore a Square has four Angles; therefore a Marble Tower is possible. I say these Conclusions are true, supposing a Square has four Angles, and that a Marble Tower is possible; just as they answer, That GOD exists, supposing he exists; that is, in short, that the Conclusions of these Demonstrations are true, supposing they are true.

'Tis true, should I form such an Argument as this: We must attribute to a thing what we clearly conceive to be included in the Idea that represents it; we clearly conceive necessary Existence to be included in the Idea of a Body Infinitely Perfect: Therefore an Infinitely Perfect Body exists. Should I form such an Argument, I say, I might reasonably be answer'd, that it was inconcluding for the actual Existence of a Body Infinitely Perfect; and that all it could inferr, was this, That supposing such a Body was in Being, it would have an independent Existence. The Reason whereof is this, that the Idea of a Body Infinitely Perfect is a Fiction of the Mind, or a compos'd Idea, and which consequently may be either false, or contradictory, as indeed it is. For we cannot clearly conceive a Body Infinitely Perfect, because a Being particular and finite, as Body is, cannot be conceiv'd Universal and Infinite.

But the Idea of GOD, of Being in General, Unlimited, Infinite Being, is no Fiction of the Mind. 'Tis not a compos'd Idea that includes any Contradiction; there is nothing more simple, though it comprehends whatever is, or whatever may be. Now this Simple and Natural Idea of Being, or of Infinite, includes necessary Existence: For 'tis evident that Being, (I say not this or that Being) has its Existence of it self; and that Being connot be actually inexistent, since 'tis impossible and contradictory, that true Being should be without Existence. 'Tis possible for Bodies not to be, because they are such particular Beings, which participate of Being, and depend on it: But Being without Restriction, is necessary, independent, and derives what it is only from it self; all that is, proceeds from it; and on that account it self is, whatever is: But were there not any thing in particular, this would be, because it is from it self; and it could not be clearly conceiv'd, as not Being, were it not for our representing it as Being in particular, or such a Being, and our considering quite another Idea than belong'd to it. For those that perceive not that GOD is, commonly consider not Being, but this or that Being, and consequently a Being that may or may not exist.

However, in order to make this Argument of the Existence of a GOD more distinctly conceiv'd, and to give a clearer Answer to some Objections that might be made to it, we must remember that, in perceiving a created Being, we see it not in it self, nor by it self; but, as has been prov'd in the Third Book, by the View of certain Perfections that are in GOD, representing it. So that the Essence of that Creature may be seen without seeing its Existence; we may see in GOD what represents it, though it does not exist: And for the Reason, necessary Existence is not included in the Idea that represents it; it not being necessary that it exist, in order to our seeing it. But the Case is different with the Infinitely Perfect Being; we can't see him but in himself: For nothing Finite can represent what's Infinite. GOD therefore cannot be seen, but he must exist. The Essence of a Being Infinitely Perfect cannot be seen, without seeing its Existence. We cannot see it barely as a possible Being; For what is there to contain it? Nor can we thing of it but it must exist.

But 'tis to no purpose to offer these Demonstrations to the Common sort of People: These are Demonstrations which we call Personal, because they convince not Universally. If we would convince them, we must apply such as are of a more sensible Nature; and surely they are plentiful enough: For there is no Truth that has more Proofs than that of the Existence of a GOD. This we urg'd only to shew, that Abstract Truths, making little Impression on our Senses, pass for Illusions and Chimeras: Whereas gross and palpable Truths, that strike the Senses, forcing the Soul to consider them, induces us to believe they have much Reality, because ever since the Fall they have made powerful Impressions on our Mind.

For the same Reason 'tis never to be hop'd, that the Vulgar of Men will ever submit to that Demonstration, which proves Brutes to be insensible; namely, that since they are innocent, as all the World allows; and, I suppose, if they were capable of Sensation, it might happen that under an Infinitely Just and Omnipotent GOD, an Innocent Creature might suffer Pain; which is a Penalty, and the Punishment of some Sin. Men are commonly incapable of seeing the Evidence of this Axiom, Oper. Perf. Sub justo▪ Deo, quisquam, nisi mereatur, miser esse non potest; which St. Austin with a great deal of Reason urges against Julian, to prove Original Sin, and the Corruption of our Nature. They fancy there is nothing of Strength, or Truth in this, nor in many other Axioms, which prove that Beasts have no Sensation; because, as has been said, these Axioms are Abstract, have nothing sensible or palpable in them, and make no Impression on the Senses.

Those sensible Actions and Motions perform'd by Beasts for the Preservation of their Life, though only probable Inducements, affect us more, and consequently weigh more with us to believe they endure Pain, when we strike them, and they cry, than that abstract Reason of Pure Intellect, though most certain and evident in it self: For 'tis plain, that most Men have no other Reason to believe that Beasts have Souls, than the sensible View of all those things they do for the Preservation and Security of Life.

Which from hence is sufficiently apparent, that most People fancy there is no Soul in an Egg, though the Transmutation of an Egg into a Chicken, I speak according to common Opinion, which is, that the Chicken is form'd from the Egg, though perhaps it is no more than nourish'd by it. is infinitely harder than the bare Conservation of the Chicken when compleatly form'd: For as greater Art is requir'd to fabrick a Watch out of a piece of Iron, than to make it go when 'tis perfectly made; so a Soul should rather be admitted in the Egg, for the Formation of the Chicken, than for making the Chicken live, [Page] when entirely form'd. But Men don't see with their eyes the admirable Conduct that goes to the forming of a Chicken, as they still sensibly observe its method of looking out what's necessary to its own Preservation. And therefore they are not dispos'd to believe there are Souls in Eggs, from any sensible Impression of those Motions which are requisite to transform them into Chickens; but they ascribe Souls to Animals, by reason of the sensible Impression they receive from the external Actions these Animals perform for their vital Preservation: though the Reason I have here alledg'd, is stronger for the Souls of Eggs than of Chickens.

This second Reason, namely, that Matter is incapable of Sensation and Desire, is, without doubt, a Demonstration against those who ascribe Sense to Animals, whilst they confess their Souls corporeal. But Men will rather eternally-confound and perplex these Reasons, than acknowledge a thing repugnant to barely probable, but most sensible and pathetick Arguments; and there is no way fully to convince them, but by opposing other Sensible Proofs to theirs, and giving an ocular Demonstration, that all the Parts of Animals are mere Mechanism; and that they may move without a Soul, by the bare Impression of Objects, and their own particular Frame and Constitution: as Monsieur Des Cartes has begun to do, in his Treatise concerning Man. For all the most certain and evident Reasons of the pure Intellect will never obviate the obscure Proofs they have from the Senses: and it were to expose our selves to the Laughter of superficial and inattentive Persons, to pretend to prove by Reasons somewhat higher than ordinary, that Animals have no Sense.

We must therefore well remember, that the strong Inclination we have for Divertisements, Pleasures, and in general, for whatever affects us, exposes us to a multitude of Errours; because our Capacity of Mind being limited, this Inclination constantly disturbs our Attention to the clear and distinct Ideas of the Pure Understanding, proper for the Discovery of Truth, to apply it to the false, obscure, and deceitful Ideas of the Senses; which influence the Will more by the Hope of Good and Pleasure, than they inform the Mind by their Light and Evidence.

CHAP. XII.

Of the Effects which the Thoughts of future Happiness and Misery are capable of producing in the Mind.

IF it often happens that little Pleasures and light Pains, which we actually feel, or even which we expect to feel, strangely confound our Imagination, and disable us from judging on things by their true Ideas; we cannot imagine but the Expectation of Eternity must needs work upon our Mind: But 'tis requisite to consider what it is capable of producing in't.

We must in the first place observe, That the Hope of an Eternity of Pleasures, does not work so strongly on our Minds, as the Fear of an Eternity of Torments: The Reason is, Men love not Pleasure so much as they hate Pain. Again; by a Self-conscious Sensation which they have of their Corruptions, they know they are worthy of Hell: and they see nothing in themselves deserving of so great Rewards, as is the participating the Felicity of God himself. They are sensible as often as they will, and even sometimes against their Will, that far from meriting Rewards, they deserve the greatest Punishments; for their Conscience never quits them: But they are not so constantly convinc'd that GOD will manifest his Mercy upon Sinners, after having satisfy'd his Justice upon his SON. So that even the Righteous have more lively Apprehensions of an Eternity of Torments, than Hopes of an Eternity of Pleasures. Therefore the prospect of Punishment works more upon them, than the prospect of Reward. Here follows what it is capable of producing, not all alone, but as a principal Cause.

It begets infinite Scruples in the Mind, and strengthens them in such a manner, that 'tis almost impossible to get rid of them. It stretches Faith, (as I may so speak) as far as Prejudices, and makes Men pay that Worship which is due to GOD alone, to imaginary Powers. It obstinately fixes their Mind on vain or dangerous Superstitions; and causes them fervently and zealously to embrace Humane Traditions and Practices, needless to Salvation; Jew and Pharisaick-like Devotions, which servile Dread has invented. Finally, it flings some Men into the darkness of Despair; so that confusedly beholding Death as Nothing, they brutally wish to perish, that they may be freed of those dreadful Anxieties and Disquiets that torment and frighten them.

The Scrupulous and Superstitious have commonly more of Charity than Self-love; but only Self-love possesses the Desperate: for rightly to conceive it, a Man must extremely love himself, who rather chuses no Being than an ill one. Women, Young People, and those of a weak and timorous Mind, are most obnoxious to Scruples and Superstitions, and Men more liable to Despair.

'Tis easie to conceive the Reasons of all this: For the Idea of Eternity▪ being manifestly the greatest, most terrible, and dreadful, of all those that astonish the Mind and strike the Imagination, must needs be attended with a large Retinue of additional Ideas, all which contribute to a wonderful effect upon the Mind, by reason of the Analogy they have to that great and terrible Idea of Eternity.

Whatever has any relation to Infinite, cannot be a little thing; or if it be little in it self, by that relation it grows so vast and immense, as not to be compar'd with any thing Finite. Therefore whatever has, or is fancied to have any relation to that unavoidable Dilemma, concluding for an Eternity either of Torments or Delights; necessarily dismays the Mind, that's capable of any Reflexion or Thought.

[Page]Women, Young People, and feeble Minds, having, as I have formerly said, the Fibres of their Brain soft and pliable, receive very deep Traces, or Impressions, from that two-edg'd Consideration; and when, through the plenty of their Spirits, they are more dispos'd to Sensation than just Reflexion on things, they admit, through the Vivacity of their Imagination, a great number of spurious Impressions, and false accessary Ideas, which have no natural Relation to the principal. Nevertheless, that Relation, though imaginary, nourishes and confirms those spurious Traces, and false accessary Ideas which it has produc'd.

When Men are engag'd in a troublesome Law-suit, which they don't understand, and it takes up all their Thoughts; they commonly fall into needless Fears and Apprehensions, that there are certain things prejudicial to their Cause, which the Judges never think of, and which a Lawyer would not fear. The Success of the Affair is of so great Concernment to them, that the Concussion it produces in their Brain, spreads and propagates it self to distant Traces, that have naturally no relation to it. 'Tis just so with the Scrupulous; they causlesly fancy to themselves Subjects of Fears and Disquiet; and instead of examining the Will of GOD in Holy Writ, and referring to Men of untainted Imagination, they constantly intend an Imaginary Law, which the disorderly motions of Fear have engraven in their Brain. And though they be inwardly convinc'd of their Infirmity, and that GOD requires not certain Duties they prescribe themselves, as being inconsistent with his Service; yet they cannot forbear preferring their Imagination to their Understanding, and submitting rather to some confus'd and terrifying Sensations, that throw them into Errour, than to the Evidence of Reason, which brings them back to a good Assurance, and reduces them into the right way of Salvation.

There is commonly a good stock of Vertue and Charity in Persons tormented with Scruples, but not so much in People devoted to certain Superstitions; and whose principal Employment is some Jewish and Pharisaick Practices▪ GOD requires to be worship'd in Spirit and in Truth: He is not satisfy'd with our making Faces, and paying external Ceremonies; with our bending the Knee before him, and praising him with a Lip-offering, when our Heart is far from him. If Men are content with these exteriour Marks of Respect, 'tis because they cannot fathom the depth of the Heart; for even they would be worship'd in Spirit and in Truth. GOD demands our Mind and our Heart, which as he has created, so he preserves only for himself: But many there are, who, to their own misfortune, deny him those things which he has all manner of Right and Claim to. They harbour Idols in their Hearts, which they adore with a spiritual and true Worship, and to which they sacrifice themselves, and all they have. But because the true GOD threatens, in the Recesses of their Conscience, to punish their excessive Ingratitude with an Eternity of Torments, and yet they cannot think of quitting their belov'd Idolatry; they therefore bethink themselves of an external Performance of some good Works. They betake themselves to Fasting, to Almsgiving, and Saying of Prayers, as they see others do; and continue some time in such like Exercises: but whereas they are painful to those that have not Charity, they commonly forsake them, to substitute some little Practicks, and easie Devotions, in their room; which striking in with Self-love, necessarily, but insensibly, subvert the whole System of Morals which our LORD has left us. They are faithful, fervent, and zealous Defenders of those Humane Traditions which Un-enlightned Persons make them believe most useful, and the frightful Idea of Eternity daily represents, as absolutely necessary to their Salvation.

It fares not so with the Righteous: They hear no less than the Wicked the Menaces of their GOD; but the confus'd Noise of their Passions does not deafen them to his Counsels. The false Glarings of Humane Traditions do not dazle them so far, as to make them insensible to the Light of Truth. They place their Confidence in the Promises of CHRIST, and follow his Precepts; as knowing that the Promises of Men are as vain as their Counsels. However, it may be said, that the Dread which the Idea of Eternity breeds in their Minds, sometimes effects so great a Commotion in their Imagination, that they dare not absolutely condemn these Humane Traditions; and that sometimes they approve them by their Example, because they have A shew of Wisdom in Will-worship and Humility, Col. 2.23. like those Pharisaick Traditions mention'd by St. Paul.

But that which more especially deserves to be consider'd in this place, and which does not so much relate to Moral as Intellectual Disorder, is, that the fore-mention'd Fear stretches the Faith as well as Zeal of those it infects, to things false, or unworthy the Holiness of our Religion. There are many who believe, and that with a stiff and obstinate Faith, That the Earth rests immovably in the Centre of the World: That Brutes are sensible of Real Pain: That Sensible Qualities are strew'd and diffus'd over Objects: That there are Forms or Real Accidents, distinguish'd from Matter; and a world of the like false or uncertain Opinions, because they conceit it would be repugnant to their Faith to deny them. They are frighted with the Expressions of the Holy Scripture, which speaks to our Capacity, and consequently makes use of the receiv'd manners of Speech, without design of making us Philosophers. They believe not only what the Spirit of GOD means to teach them, but likewise all the Opinions of the Jews: They can't see, for example, that Joshua speaks before his Souldiers, as even Copernicus, Galilaeus, and Des Cartes would speak to the Vulgar part of Men; and that though he had been of the Opinion of these Philosophers, he would not have commanded the Earth to stand still, since he could not have manifested to his Army, in words which they did not understand, the Miracle GOD shew'd for his People. Don't those who believe the Sun immoveable, say to their Servants, to their Friends, or to those who are of their Opinion, that The Sun Rises and Sets? Do they affect to speak differently from others, whenever their chief Design is not to Philosophize? Was Joshua so admirably vers'd in Astronomy? [Page] Or if he was, did his Souldiers understand it? But were he and his Souldiers Astronomers, could we think they would be playing the Philosophers, when their Thoughts were intent on Fighting? Joshua therefore must have spoke as he did, though both he and his Souldiers were of the same Opinion that the best Astronomers hold now-a-days. And yet the Words of that great General, Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon; and what is said afterwards, that the Sun stood still according to his Command; persuade a great many, that the Opinion of the Earth's Motion is not only dangerous, but also absolutely Heretical, and unwarrantable. They have heard that some Devout Men, whom we are to treat with much Deference and Respect, have censur'd and condemn'd it; and have some confus'd Notion of what happen'd to a Famous Galilaeus▪ put into the Inquisition for maintaining the Earth mov'd. Astronomer of our own Age, upon that occasion: All which seems sufficient to make them obstinately believe, that Faith is concern'd in that Opinion. A certain confus'd Sensation, rais'd and encourag'd by a Motion of Fear, which yet they are scarce aware of, throws them into Suspicions of those who follow Reason in things of Reason's Jurisdiction. Hence they regard them as Hereticks, they hear them but with Impatience, and Regret of Mind: and these their secret Apprehensions breed in them as great a Reverence and Submission to these Opinions, and several others purely Philosophical, as to Truths that are Objects of Faith.

CHAP. XIII.

I. Of the Third Natural Inclination; viz. The Friendship we have for other Men. II. It makes us approve the Thoughts of our Friends, and deceive them by undue Praises.

OF all our Inclinations taken in the general, and in the Sense explain'd in the first Chapter, there remains now to be spoken to, only that which we have for those we live with, and for all the Objects round about us: of which I shall say but little, since it rather respects Morals and Politicks than our Subject. And whereas this Inclination is always accompany'd with the Passions, it might perhaps be more appositly treated of in the next Book: But 'tis not of so great concern, to be so nicely methodical in this Case.

That we may rightly comprehend the Cause and Effects of this Natural Inclination,I. Of the Third Natural Inclination, viz. The Friendship we have for other Men. it is requisite to know, that GOD loves all his Works, and that he strictly unites them to one another for their mutual Preservation. For Loving incessantly the Works he produces (it being his Love that produces them) he also continually impresses on our Heart a Love for his Works; that is, he produces constantly in our Heart a Love like his own. And to the intent the Natural Love we have for our selves might not swallow up, or too much infringe upon that which we have for exteriour things; but on the contrary, that these two Loves which GOD puts in us, might cherish and strengthen each other: he has so artfully united us with all things about us, and especially with those Beings of the same Species as our selves, that their Evils naturally afflict us, their Joy rejoyces us; their Rise, their Fall, or Diminution, seem to augment or diminish respectively our own Being. The new Honours of our Relations or Friends, the fresh Atchievements of those who have the nearest Engagements to us: The Conquests and Victories of our Prince, and even the late Discoveries of the New World, give, as it were, an additional growth to our Substance. Belonging to all these things, we rejoyce at their Grandure and Extent: We gladly would, that even the World was without Bounds; and that Notion of some Philosophers, that the Works of GOD are infinite, not only seems worthy of GOD, but most agreeable to Man; who can conceive nothing nobler, than the being a part of Infinity; whilst as inconsiderable as he is in himself, he fancies he feels himself infinitely enlarg'd by an expansion of Thought into the infinite Beings that surround him.

'Tis true, the Union we have with all those Bodies that rowl in the vast spaces, is not very binding; and consequently insensible to the greatest part of Men: and there are some who interess themselves so little in the Discoveries made in the Heavens, that one would think they had no natural Union to them; did we not know that it was for want of Knowledge, or for their too applicative Adherencies to other things.

The Soul, though united to the Body which she animates, is not always sensible of the Motions that occur in it; or if she be, yet she does not always actually consider them. The Passion whereby she's acted being often greater than the Sensation wherewith she's affected, makes her seem to have a stricter Adherence to the Object of her Passion, than to her own Body. For 'tis chiefly by the Passions that the Soul expands her self abroad, and finds she is actually related to all surrounding Beings: as it is especially by Sensation that she expands through her own Body, and finds she is united to all the Parts that compose it. But as we are not to conclude that the Soul of a Man, in a Passion, is not united to his Body, because he exposes himself to Death, and is unconcern'd for his own Preservation; so it ought not to be imagin'd we are not naturally engag'd to all things, because there are some we are not at all concern'd for.

Would you know, for instance, whether Men have any Adhesions to their Prince, or their Country? Enquire out such as are acquainted with the Interests of them, and have no particular Engagements of their own to take them up; and you will then see how earnest they are for News, how impatient to hear of Battels, how joyful for a Victory, and how melancholy upon a Defeat. And this will convince you how strictly Men are united to their Prince, and their Country.

[Page]In like manner, would you know whether Men are united to China, Japan, the Planets or Fix'd Stars? Enquire out, or only imagine to your self, some whose Country or Family enjoy a settl'd Peace, who have no particular Passions, and that are not actually sensible of the Union that binds them to nearer Objects than the Heavens; and you will find, if they have any Knowledge of the Magnitude and Nature of these Stars, they will rejoyce at the Discovery of any of them; will consider them with Pleasure: and, if they have Art enough, will willingly be at the pains of observing and calculating their Motions.

Such as are in the hurry of Business, have little Curiosity for the Appearance of a Comet, or the Incidence of an Eclipse; but Men that have no such Dependencies to nearer things, find themselves considerable Employment about such Events: because indeed there is nothing but what we are united to, though we have not always the Sense of this Union; as a Man does not always feel the Soul united, I don't say to his Arm or Hand, but to his Heart and Brain.

The strongest Natural Union which GOD has establish'd between us and his Works, is that which cements and binds us to our Fellow-Brethren, Men. GOD has commanded us to love them as our Second-selves; and to the end that Elective Love, with which we prosecute them, might be resolute and constant, he supports and strengthens it continually with a Natural Love, which he impresses on us: and for that purpose has given us some invisible Bonds, which bind and oblige us necessarily to love them; to be watchful for their, as our own Preservation, to regard them as parts necessary to the whole, which we constitute together with them: and without which we could not subsist.

There is nothing more admirably contriv'd, than those Natural Correspondencies observable between the Inclinations of Men's Minds, between the Motions of their Bodies; and again, between these Inclinations and these Motions. All this secret Chain-work is a Miracle, which can never be sufficiently admir'd, nor can ever be understood. Upon the Sense of some sudden surprizing Evil, or which a Man finds, as it were, too strong for him to overcome by his own Strength, he raises, suppose, a loud Cry. This Cry forc'd out frequently without thinking on it, by the disposition of the Machine, strikes infallibly into the Ears of those who are near enough to afford the Assistance that is wanted: It pierces them, and makes them understand it, let them be of what Nation or Quality soever: for 'tis a Cry of all Nations and all Conditions, as indeed it ought to be. It makes a Commotion in the Brain, and instantly changes the whole Disposition of Body in those that are struck with it; and makes them run to give succour, without so much as knowing it. But it is not long before it acts upon their Mind, and obliges their Will to desire, and their Understanding to contrive, means of assisting him who made that Natural Petition; provided always, that urgent Petition, or rather Command, be just, and according to the Rules of Society. For an indiscreet Out-cry made upon no occasion, or out of an idle Fear, produces in the Assistants Indignation or Laughter, instead of Pity: because to cry without cause, is to abuse things establish'd by Nature for our Preservation. That indiscreet Cry naturally produces Aversion, and the desire of Revenging the Affront that was offer'd Nature; that is, The settled Order of things: if he that made it without cause, did it wilfully. But it ought only to produce the Passion of Derision, mingled with some Compassion, without Aversion, and desire of Revenge; if it were a Fright, that is, a false Appearance of a pressing Exigency, which caus'd the Clamour. For Scoff, or Ridicule, is necessary to re-assure and correct the Man, as Fearful; and Compassion to succour him as Weak. 'Tis impossible to conceive any thing better order'd.

I pretend not to explain, by an Example, what are the Springs and Movements, or secret Combinations in Men's Brain, as in that of all other Animals, whereby the Author of Nature maintains the Concordance and Union necessary to their Conservation. I only make some Reflexion upon these Contrivances, to put Men upon considering them, and diligently searching and discovering (not how these Engines play, or how their Movement is communicated through the Air, the Light, and all the little Bodies that surround us, for that's near incomprehensible, and not necessary, but) what Effects they have. By several different Observations, we find there are Ties which unite us together, but we cannot accurately discern how it is perform'd. We easily see that a Watch points out the Hour, but it requires time to find out the Reasons of it. And there are so many different Movements in the Brain of the least of Animals, as far surpass the most compound Clock-work in the World.

As the perfect Knowledge of our Machinal Constructure is not possible, so it is not absolutely necessary: but the Effects its Springs and Movements are capable of producing, are indispensibly necessary to be known, for the well-managing our selves. There is no necessity of knowing how a Watch is made, to make use of it; but to use it in measuring out our Time, 'tis at least necessary to know that it shews the Hours. Yet there are Men so little capable of Reflexion, that we might almost compare them with Machines purely inanimate. They feel not in themselves the Elaterium, which slackens upon the sense of Objects. They are frequently toss'd and agitated, without perceiving their own Motion; are Slaves, and yet insensible of their Bonds. Finally, they are conducted a thousand different ways, without perceiving the hand of their Conductor. They fancy themselves the sole Authors of the Motions which they perform: and not distinguishing what passes within them, pursuant to a free Act of their Will, from what the Impression of surrounding Bodies produces; they think they are their own Guides, even when they are guided by another. But this is not a place proper for the Explication of these things.

Those Alliances which Nature's Author has founded between our Natural Inclinations, in order to unite us to one another, seem yet more worthy our Application and Enquiries, than those between Bodies, or between Minds, with reference to Bodies: For all things are so admirably [Page] dispos'd, that those very Inclinations which seem most repugnant to Society, are the most useful to it, when they are somewhat moderated.

The Desire, for Instance, which all Men have of Greatness, directly tends to the Subversion of all Societies. Nevertheless, this Desire is so temper'd by the Order of Nature, that it conduces more to Publick Welfare than many other weak and languid Inclinations: For it breeds Emulations, it provokes Men to Vertue, it bears up their Courage in the Services pay'd to their Country; and so many Conquests would not be obtain'd, did not the Soldiers, and especially the Officers, aspire to Glory and great Commands: So that all the Particulars that constitute Armies, labouring only for their private Interests, fail not to procure Happiness to their Countries. Which evidences how highly advantageous it is to the Publick Good, that all Men should have a secret Ambition for Greatness and Promotion, provided it be moderated.

But if all the Particulars should seem what they really are, should they frankly confess to others, they design'd to be the principal Parts of the Body they compose, and never to be the meanest, this would not be the means to unite them together. All the Members of a Body cannot be the Head and Heart; there must be Feet and Hands, Little as well as Great, Members to Obey as well as to Command. And if every Member of a Society should openly say, he would Command, and never Obey, as in effect every one naturally wishes, 'tis visible that all Politick Bodies would fall to Ruine and Confusion, and Injustice would reign on Earth.

It was necessary therefore, that those who have the most Sense, and are the fittest to command, as the topmost and noblest Parts of a Community, should be naturally Civil; that is, should be dispos'd by a secret Inclination, to express to others by their Behaviour, and by the Civility and Courtesie of Expression, how unworthy they think themselves of any Consideration, and that they are the meanest of all; but that those they address to, are worthy of all sorts of Honours, and that they pay them the greatest Esteem and Veneration. Lastly, to supply the Defect of Charity, and Love of Order, it was needful for those that command others, to have the Art of deceiving them, by an imaginary Abasement, consisting in external Civilities, and good Words, that they might enjoy an unenvy'd Preheminence; which is necessary in all Bodies: For by that means each Particular possesses after a sort the Grandeur he desires. The great possess it really, I speak as a Man: For the Truest Earthly Grandeur consists only in the Imagination. and the Little and Weak only in Imagination, being in a measure persuaded by the Compliments of others, that they are not consider'd as they are, that is, the Lowest and Meanest of the People.

By the way, it is easie to conclude, from what we have said, that 'tis a great Offence to Civility to speak often of one's self, especially to one's own Advantage, though we had all possible Accomplishments; it being not allow'd to speak to Persons we converse with, as if we look'd down upon them, unless in some Circumstances, and when certain external Characters give us a sensible Preheminence: For Contempt is the greatest of Injuries; 'tis that which is most capable of dissolving Society; and we can never hope that a Man, whom we have given to understand we think beneath us, will associate with us, because no Man can endure to be thought the meanest Member of the Body he is of.

The Inclination therefore Men have to Complimenting, is the fittest to counterbalance that other for Esteem and Elevation; and to soften that internal Pain those feel, who are the lowest Parts of the Body-Politick. Nor can we doubt but the Mixture of these two Inclinations is very efficacious to the keeping up Society.

But there is a strange Corruption in these Inclinations, no less than in Friendship, Compassion, Good-will, and others, which tend to the uniting Men together. What ought to hold up a Civil Society, is commonly the Cause of its Disunion and Downfal; and, not to depart from my Subject, is often the Cause of the Communication and Establishment of Errour.

Among all the Inclinations necessary to Civil Society, those which subject us most to Errour, are Friendship, Favour, Gratitude, and whatever induce us to speak too advantageously on others in their Presence.

We set no Bounds to our Love of the Person of our Friends;II. This Inclination makes us approve the Thoughts of our Friends▪ and deceive them by undue Praises. together with them we love whatever after any sort appertains to them; and whereas they commonly express their Vehemence and Passion for the Defence of their Opinions, they insensibly incline us to believe, approve, and defend them, with as great or greater Obstinacy and Passion than themselves; because it would often look but ill in them, to be hot in maintaining their Opinions, whereas we might defend them without being blam'd for it: For in them it would be Self-love, in us Generosity.

Our Affection for other Men proceeds from as many Accounts, as they may please, and serve us several ways; Likeness of Humours, of Inclinations, Employments; their Air, their Behaviour, their Vertue, Estate, the Affection or Esteem they express for us, the Services they have formerly done, or those we hope from them, and many other particular Reasons, determine us to love them: If it fortune then that any one of our Friends, that is, some Person who has the same Inclinations, an handsome Deportment, delightful Discourse, a vertuous Repute, or is of great Quality; who testifies an Esteem and Affection for us, who has done us any former Service, or from whom we hope any future; or, in fine, whom we love for any other particular Reason: If such a Person, I say, chances to advance any Proposition, we greedily embrace it, without consulting our Reason. We maintain his Opinion, insollicitous for the Truth of it, and even sometimes against the Conviction of our Conscience, according as we are determin'd, by either the Obscurity and Confusion of our Mind, the Corruption of our Heart, or the Advantages we hope to reap from our False Generosity.

There is no need of bringing particular Examples of what I say, since we rarely can be in Company an Hour together, without observing several, if we make but a little Reflexion. Favour [Page] and Laughter, according to the Common Saying, are seldom on the side of Truth, but almost always on the side of those we love. 'Tis a Well-bred and Obliging Gentleman that speaks; he is certainly therefore in the right: If what he says be only probable, it's look'd upon as true; if absolutely impertinent and ridiculous, it will at least amount to a Probability. If it be a Man that loves me, esteems me, has done me some Kindness, or is dispos'd or capacitated to do it, has maintain'd my Opinion on other Occasions, I shall be both ungrateful and unwise, if I oppugn his, or even fail to applaud him. Thus Truth is sported with, and made to truckle to our Interest, and we caress the false Opinions of each other.

A worthy Man ought not to take it ill to be inform'd, or instructed, if it be done by the Rules of good Manners; but if our Friends are disgusted, when we modestly represent to them their Mistake, we must permit them to love themselves and their Errours, since they will have it so, and because we have no Power to command them, nor to change their Mind.

But a true Friend ought never to approve the Errours of his Friend; for we ought to consider, that we do them greater Injury than we imagine, when we defend their Opinions without distinction. Our Applauses serve only to swell their Heart, and strengthen them in their Errours, whereby they grow incorrigible, and act, and decide at last, as if they were infallible.

Whence comes it that the most Rich, the most Powerful, the most Noble, and generally all that are above others, believe themselves commonly infallible, and deport themselves as if they had more Reason than Men of a Lower and Meaner Condition, but from a servile Approbation indifferently given to all their Thoughts? So likewise the Approbation we give our Friends, insensibly leads them to believe themselves wiser than others; which makes them arrogant, presumptuous, and imprudent, and obnoxious to the grossest Errours, without perceiving them.

For which Reason it is, that our Enemies often do us better Service, and open our Mind more by their Oppositions, than our Friends by their Applauses, because the former keep us to our Guard, and make us give heed to what we advance; which one thing suffices to acquaint us with our Ramblings, but the latter lull us to sleep, and give us an ungrounded Confidence that makes us Vain and Ignorant. Men should never therefore admire their Friends, and submit to their Opinions, out of an Affection; as they ought not out of Disaffection, to oppose their Enemies. But they ought to divest themselves of the Spirit of Flattery and Contradiction, that they may grow sincere, and approve the Evidence of Truth where ever they find it.

We ought moreover to fix it well in our Mind, that most Men are dispos'd to Flatter or Compliment us, through a kind of Natural Inclination, either to shew their Parts, or to obtain the good Favour of others from the Hope of a Return; or, lastly, out of a kind of Invidiousness and Raillery: And we ought never to let our Brains be turn'd with any thing they can say to us. Is it not a thing of daily Practice, to see Men that are unacquainted, cry up each other to the Heavens, upon the very first Intercourse? And what more common than for Men to give excessive Praises, and to express even Extatick Admiration to a Person upon a Publick Performance, even in the Company of those with whom they have ridiculed him just before? Whenever a Man cries out, and turns pale with Admiration, as if astonish'd at what he hears, 'tis no good Proof that the Speaker utters Wonders; but rather, that he has a flattering Auditory, that he has Friends, or it may be Enemies, that give themselves diversion: That he talks in an engaging strain, that he is Rich, or Powerful; or, if you will, 'tis a good Proof that his Discourse is founded on the confus'd and obscure, but very moving and agreeable Notions of the Senses; or that he has a lively Imagination, since Praises are bestow'd on Friendship, Riches, Honours, Probabilities, but rarely upon Truth.

'Twill perhaps be expected, that having treated in general of the Inclinations of the Mind, I should now descend to an exact Discussion of all the particular Motions it is sensible of, upon the Sight of Good and Evil, viz. That I should explicate the Nature of Love, Hatred, Joy, Sorrow, and all the Intellectual Passions, whether General or Particular, Simple or Compound. But I have not oblig'd my self to account for all the different Motions whereof the Mind is capable.

I am willing to have it known, that my principal Design in all the foregoing Treatise concerning the Search after Truth, was to make Men sensible how weak and ignorant they are, and how subject to Errour and Sin. I have said it, and I say it again, perhaps it will be remembred, I had never design'd a Thorough particular Explication of the Nature of the Mind; but I have been oblig'd to say something of it, to lay open its Errours in their Principle, to unfold them methodically, in a Word, to make my self intelligible. If I have transgress'd the Bounds I had prescrib'd my self, [...]t was because I had, methought, new things to say, which seem'd of moment, and which I believ'd might be read with Pleasure. Perhaps I was mistaken; but that Presumption was necessary [...]o encourage me to write them. For who would say any thing, if he did not hope to be attended to? I have said, it's true, several things which seem to have less Analogy with the present Subject than would be the particular Treatment of the Motions of the Soul, and I acknowledge it. But 'tis not my Intention to put my self under any Constraint, when I propose to my self a Method. I lay down a Rule to go by; but I presume it may be permitted me to turn aside as I walk, when any thing falls in my way to be consider'd. I presume too I have the Liberty of diverting to a Resting Place, provided I lose not Sight of the Road I am to pursue. Such as will not ease themselves with me, may go on if they please, 'tis but turning to a new Page. But if they take it amiss, I would let them know that there are many who find that the Resting Places I have made choice of, make their Journey easier, and more pleasant.

The End of the First Volume.

2

PREFACE to the Second Volume; Which may serve as an Answer to the ANIMADVERSIONS on the First.

[Page]

SOme time since was publish'd a Book entituled, Animadversions upon the Search after Truth, wherein, at the same time, are examin'd part of M. des Cartes's Principles, being a Letter by an Academick in Paris, &c. 'Tis said this Book attacks me, and truly not without Reason; for the Title shews it, and the Author manifests it was his Design; which gives me a Right and imposes on me a sort of Obligation of speaking my Thoughts of it. For besides that, I ought to disabuse some people who delight in these petty Quarrels, and immediately determine on the side of the Criticks that gratifie their Passion; I think my self bound to give some Answer to the Aggressor, that I may not be thought to be [...]ilent out of Insolence or Impotence.

The Animadverter may pardon me, if he pleases, if I sometimes seem to give him Provocation; I should be very sorry so much as to design it. But I cannot defend my self without wounding him, nor repell the Blows he makes at me, without making him feel, and others know his Weakness and Imbecillity. Self-defence is a natural Obligation, but the Defence of Truth is absolutely indispensible.

See here in short his Design: He supposes the Book he animadverts on, is a Method for laying the Foundations of the Sciences. He reduces this Method to fourteen Heads, and shews that they are either Suppositions without Proof, or Assertio [...]s without Foundation, and consequently that the Substance of the Book is intirely useless to the Enquiry after Truth; though there are here and there some Observations in it that place it in the rank of Works which have gain'd the Estimation of our Age.

I answer in General, that the Author of the Animadversions has not understood, or has dissembled the Understanding the Design of the Book he impungs; it being plain that the principal Design of it, is to discover the Errours we are subject to. 'Tis true it treats of the Nature of the Senses, Imagination and Intellect; but 'tis manifest, and I precaution in several places, that this is only to discover these Errours in their Causes: This being the Method I always endeavour to observe, as believing it most advantageous to the enlightning the Mind.

The Title of the first Page of the Book he opposes, wherein are to be seen in Capitals, CONCERNING THE ERROURS OF TH [...] SENSES; the very Table of the same Book, or rather the Place where I make the Division of the whole Work, might have taught him my Design, if he had desir'd to know it, where he might have read these words, which methinks are clear enough:Chap. 4. E. 1. And so all the Errours of Men, and the Causes of them, may be reduc'd to five Heads, and we shall treat of them according to that order. First, We shall speak of the Errours of the SENSES. Secondly, Of the Errours of IMAGINATION. Thirdly, Of the Errours of the PURE INTELLECT. Fourthly, Of the Errours of our INCLINATIONS. And fifthly, Of the Errours of the PASSIONS. And thus having made an Ess [...]y to rid the Soul of the Errours which she is subject to, WE SHALL, Lastly, LAY DOWN A GENERAL METHOD TO CONDUCT HER IN THE SEARCH OF TRUTH. 'Tis plain enough from this Division, that the first Volume, which is the subject of our A [...] thor's Animadversions, treats only of the Senses, Imagination and Intellect, and that the Method which he supposes I have given, ought to be the Subject of the Second Volume.

Nevertheless as he is pleased to make me undertake a Design I do not execute, that he may have the more to Charge upon my Conduct, so he goes to prove it was my Design to lay down a Method in that Book. I do him no Injury, says he,Page 9, 10. in looking on his Book as a Method to lay the Foundations of the Sciences: For besides that the Title expresses so much, he declares himself upon the Point in the following manner;Page 1. ‘Let us examaine the Causes and Nature of our Errours, and since the Method of examining things, by considering them in their Birth and Origin, is the most regular and perspicuous, and serves better than others to give us a thorough knowledge of them, let us try to put it here in practice.’

I do a Man no Injury, when I say he designs to draw an Hercules; but if I shew that instead of an Hercules, he takes a Polyphemus, or Thersites, I make him ridiculous: Should I say with many others, that the Animadverter is a Cartesian, or that he designed by his Animadversions on my Book to defend the Doctrine of Des Cartes, I should not wrong him; but if at the same time I should shew that he opposes me without understanding me, I should possibly offend him. 'Tis then injuring a Man, to charge upon him Designs which he never had, to render him ridiculous. But a Man must be wretchedly in the wrong who imposes them on such as have, like me in several places, explain'd themselves clearly upon the Subject.

But the Title of my Book evidences as much, for 'tis concerning the Search after Truth. I answer, That to search out Truth, two things are requisite; first to be delivered from the Prejudices of Childhood, or vulgar Errours; Secondly, to have a good Method. The Title of the Book is comprehensive of these two parts. I have given the first in the former Volume, but the Animadverter will needs have it, that I have given the second; which surely is unreasonable. He ought rather to correct the Title by the Book, if the Title displeased him, than to go about to ruine a whole Book for the Title's sake.

But, continues our Aurhor, I declare my self upon the Point in this manner, ‘Let us examine the Causes and Nature of our Errours, and since the Method of examining things,Page 10. by considering them in their Birth and Origin, is the most regular and perspicuous, and serves better than others to give us a thorough knowledge of them;’ let us try to put it here in practice.

I have been shewing, that I have declar'd distinctly enough in the Division I have made of my work, that I gave not my Method in the first Volume; this cannot be doubted. But let us see whether this passage was enough to make him think I have given a Method: I say, Let us examine the Causes and Nature of our Errours. My Design therefore according to this Passage, is to examine the Causes and Na [...]ure of our Errours. That's plain. I continue, And since the Method of examining things by considering th [...]m in their Birth and Origin, is more regular and perspicuous than others; let us try to put it in practice.

[Page]My Design therefore is to examine the Causes and Nature of our Errours methodically; can any one from hence believe I have given a Method? If so, we may believe there is no Author but has given a Method, since there is none but has the same Design as my self to write methodically. I might even say that the Animadverter has design'd to give a Method, and impugn him by his own Weapons, but that he had rather be thought to have written without any. These are the Proofs imployed by him to demonstrate I have given a Method.

The fourteen Heads of this Imaginary Method, are in the places whence they are taken, either incidental Propositions, or Answers to Objections, or Opinions he ascribes to me, for want of Understanding what he engages; or lastly Examples, which of themselves neither are nor can be Heads of a Method. Here follows the first of these Heads.

I begin thus, ‘The Mind (or Soul) of Man being neither material nor extended, is undoubtedly a simple Substance,Page 1. indivisible, and without any Composition of Parts, notwithstanding it has been the custom to distingish in it two Faculties, namely, the Understanding and the Will; which it is necessary in the first place to explain: for it seems, &c.’ And in order to render the abstract Ideas of these two words sensible, I explain them not as our Author misrepresents me, with Relation to the Essence of Matter, which he supposes unknown; but by Relation to the Properties which all the World acknowledge are in Matter: i. e. the capacity of being mov'd, and of receiving different external Figures, and internal Configurations.

The Animadverter supposing, as has been said, that the Book he impugns is a Method, begins thus:Page 20. The first thing to be observ'd when a Man pretends to the search of Truth, is not to suppose he has already found it, though he be in perfect possession of it, &c. And lower, Which thing the Author seems not to have sufficiently consider'd; Page 21. for at his very first setting out, he engages in the supposition of a thing, the Knowledge whereof is the principal motive to his Enquiry after Truth, and which he ought not to determine before he had exhausted the greatest Questions in Philosophy. Thus it is he enters on his matter in his first Chapter. The Mind of Man being neither material nor extended, &c. 'Tis easie to see this Supposition is not indifferent, &c.

I answer, first, that it was not my Design to give a Method in the Book he impugns, but only to prepare the Mind by delivering it from Prejudices.

Secondly, that though it had been my Design, I might have suppos'd some Truths, which are commonly acknowledg'd; as that the Soul is not material: especialy if I employ them not as a Foundation to build some System on.

I answer in the third place, that the Proposition he will have to be an Head of my Method, is an incidental Proposition. The bare construction of the words, is a sufficient indication; the process of the Discourse an undeniable proof; and all that I say in this place might subsist though the Soul were material. 'Tis not the part of a good Critick to take an incidental Proposition, for a Fundamental, and an Head of a Method. Nor is this to prove I have suppos'd to have found the Truth I am in quest of; since the thing I suppose, or rather which I do not examine, is not of any use to me.

When it was necessary, to the sequel of Discourse, to know that the Soul was a kind of Being distinct from Matter, Book 1. Ch. 9. B. 3. in several places. I have prov'd it, or referr'd to those that have. But why will he oblige me to prove a thing in this place, which would be useless to the following Discourse, and I should have been sorry to have prov'd here? Whether the Soul be material or not, it is always true, that it has been the custom to distinguish two Faculties in it, the Understanding and Will. These two words are in use, and I may employ them; they are perhaps obscure, and I ought to define them; and because their Ideas are abstract, I may make them sensible. This is what I have done, and I cannot yet see what any one can blame in it.

At my very first setting out, he says, I engage in the supposition of a thing, the knowledge whereof is the principal motive to my Enquiry after Truth, and which I ought not to determine before having exhausted the greatest Questions in Philosophy.

All this Discourse is false, I engage not in a Supposition, for incidental Propositions come not into account. The principal motive to my Enquiry after Truth, is not to know whether the Soul be Material or Immaterial; and so far is this Question from being insoluble, till having drain'd the greatest Questions of Philosophy, that its Resolution depends on no other. This Question is not complex'd, and the bare Comparison of Ideas which answer to the terms is sufficient to resolve it, as I shall shew in the sixth Book, though this is not discoverable by those who make more use of their Imagination than their Reason. There is no necessity of explaining this more at present; we need but know that this Supposition is an incidental Proposition, from which I draw no Conseqence, and which I should have been to blame to prove; and yet if we will credit the Animadverter,Page 22. What is worst of all, is that this sole Anticipation is enough to ruine all the hopes the Search after Truth might have rais'd in us.

In the four or five first Pages which our Animadverter spends in refuting the first pretended Head of the Imaginary Method, many things would deserve our consideration, if we thought our selves obliged to let the World know all his Faults; for he imposes on me here, as in other places, without any Proof, Opinions and Designs which never entred my Head; and he does it with a confidence which is capable of surprising all those who believe others on their Words. I am willing to think he is too honest and sincere a Man to prevaricate, and to be prodigal of that Respect which is due to the Publick; but if so, there is Levity or Temerity in his enterprise: he should not have undertaken to oppose what he did not understand. Yet I cannot chuse but relate how he finishes his first Attack; we shall know what we are to think of the rest by the Beginning and End.

I said that the Soul being a Simple and Indivisible Substance has no parts; however it had been the custom to distinguish in it two Faculties, the Understanding and Will, &c. This has given occasion to the Animadverter to accuse me of Contradiction; and after having prov'd, after his manner, by many Interrogations and Rhetorical Figures extremely convincing, he concludes with these words, which represent his whole figurative Reasoning in short, and for that Reason he has put it in Italick; Which is the same thing, says he, as if I should say, THE SOUL IS WITHOUT ANY COMPOSITION OF PARTS; BUT YET I AM GOING TO EXPLAIN HOW SHE CONTAINS THEM. You see, Sir, continues he, that this Supposition serves only to throw us immediately into obscurity; besides that, it [Page]is contrary on other grounds to the success of this Method. But who ever took Faculties for Parts? Certainly the Passion for Criticising must be very blind, to put into the Mouth of a Man of Parts, so extraordinary Comparisons, and to make him believe the World must be content with them. But let us examine his second Head of my pretended Method, and see how he impugns it.

After having shewn that to the avoiding Errour, we must only give our consent to things appearing in such Light and Evidence as make it impossible for us to withhold it, without clearly Understanding the secret Reproaches of our Reason: I adjoyn;Page 9. ‘'Tis not however to be denied but there are some Truths, besides those of Faith, for which it would be unreasonable to demand indisputable Demonstrations, as are those which relate to matter of Fact in History, and other things which have their dependence on the Will of Men; for there are two kinds of Truth, the one necessary, the other contingent.’ And because these two words Necessary and Contingent, are not it may be clear enough, I explain them thus: ‘I call necessary Truths those which are immutable by their Nature, and those which have been fix'd and determin'd by the Will of God, which is not subject to change: All other sorts of Truth are contingent. And lower, We demand therefore an exact observation of the Rule we have been establishing in the Search of necessary Truths, the knowledge of which may be call'd Science; and we must be content with the greatest probability in History, which includes the knowledge of things contingent.’ For under, &c.

I wish it might be examin'd, first, whether the things I have been saying are clear or obscure? Whether it may not be suppos'd there are necessary Truths, as that 2 times 2 are 4, and contingent Truths as that Mr. — shall say such a thing at such an hour, especially when we have no design of establishing any System upon this Supposition? Whether there be any thing more certain than this Supposition, whereby it may be proved. Lastly, whether a Man can reasonably persuade himself, that I lay down for one of the Heads of my Method, or a Supposition essential to any System, a Proposition which begins with FOR.

This being suppos'd I come now to produce the Reasonings of our Animadverter against what I have said of contingent and necessary Truths, I shall only place in the Margin some Notes or Answers I shall think necessary; this being the shortest and easiest way for me; since it is an harder thing than is imagined to answer clearly such as are unintelligible and inconsequent Reasoners. For we must at least put their Objections in some form to solve them, which cannot be always done, either because they will not bear it, or because we do not understand them. For my own part, I am very glad it cannot be imagined I use the Animadversions, as the Animadverter has us'd the Search; or that from different Passages of this Book I compose an incomprehensible peice of Nonsense.

ANIMADVERSIONS. The Second Supposition concerning Necessary Truths, Page 9.
ANIMADVERSIONS.

THE Second thing supposed by the Author is, that there are two sorts of Truths, Necessary and Contingent. I know not for what reason he looks upon what he here asserts, as (a) undeniable, and why he does not think of proving it. For this is one of the most considerable Questions that has employed the Learned, especially the Ancients; insomuch that the first Philosophers were (b) all, except Parmenides, of a contrary opinion to that he maintains in this place. Yet Parmenides acknowledged but one necessary Truth, whereas he supposes a very great number. Protagoras believ'd there was no Truth on the part of things, so far was he from owning any necessary; and that Man was the Measure and Rule of all that could come in Question; that there was nothing but mere Appearances, and no Realities, and consequently there were no Truths to seek, or Errours to avoid, all being equally true, or rather equally false. The Pyrronists have still maintained there was nothing certain or truly determined, or that if there were, yet we could not know it. The new Philosophers grant that individuals are no wise immutable, but are subject to continual Vicissitudes; which being so, what becomes of necessary Truths? I speak not of those which are found in the Mathematicks, that ought to make a Question (c) apart; but of those he supposes in Physicks, Medicine and Morality, though I still except those which regard the Essence or Existence of a God. Where then could he place them, except in the (d) Species and Essences of the same Individuals which are subject to change? And if these Essences or Species are nothing but Ideas, as may be suspected if their immutability be only in appearance, should not we, in following that supposition, engage in an Errour, which would absolutely exclude us from the knowledge of the true state of things?

But let us see what the Author calls necessary Truths, for at least he explains what he means by these words, ‘I call necessary Truths, those which are immutable by their Nature, and those which have been fixed and determined by the Will of God, which is not subject to change.’

[Page]To say that these Truths are immutable by their Nature, what is it more than to say, they are immutable because immutable, unless this signifies they are essentially so without any external assistance? But if these Truths were necessary in this manner, how were they determin'd by the Will of God, since God being free, as the Author will not deny, he might, if he had pleas'd, have not determin'd them to be immutable (e). And if so, they are immutable only by Grace, because God will'd it so, and determin'd them to that state of immutability.

This being so, how come they to be immutable by their Nature, since it was possible for them to be liable to change? But if it were not possible for them to be subject to change, how could they be determin'd by God to be immutable? and how could he have fix'd them by the operation of his Will?

The Author may explain himself upon this Point, if he think convenient; mean time it is no little concern to know whether God can change the Essences of things, and make two Contradictories true at the same time; for as a celebrated Divine of our Age has said upon the same words that are now under examination, Is God the Author of the Truth of his own Existence? Or ought we to affirm that we can form a right-lined Triangle, whose three Angles shall be greater than two Rights; or that shall have one Side longer than the other two? In a word, if it be possible for Contradictories to be true and false at the same time, what will become of humane Reasoning? And what shall we say to those Theological Conclusions, which assure us that God is not Corporeal, that he is not subject to Change, that he has always been? (f) &c.

(g) Might we not say in following this Hypothesis, that its possible for him to have been eternally, and not to have been eternally; that he is liable and not liable to change? I mean not to pronounce upon so difficult a Question, but I may affirm the Author had no right to do it, especially in the Circumstances he has done it, and without alleadging sufficient Proofs.

Yet methinks I perceive a shew of Reasoning in these words, and by the Will of God which is not subject to change. He seems to consider the Will of God as the Cause of the Necessity of these Truths. But if so, he proves too much in the place where we complain he proves nothing at all; for if what God wills be immutable, because his Will is not subject to change; it follows that whatever he wills, must have an equal immutability, since it is the same Will which is the Cause of it: Mean while it is certain he wills things which are subject to change, when he determines the Existence or Non-existence of Creatures in the Vicissitude of times (h). Thus though God should have fix'd these Truths but for some Ages, his Will thereby would be no less immutable, than for his producing daily all those admirable changes which make the Beauty of the Universe.

But the Author will say, God wills that these Truths should be immutable for ever. But how could he know this, had he any particular Revelation? yet he speaks as possitively as if he was very certain.

It may be he bottoms upon this, that if these Truths seem immutable to us whilst they are subject to change, we should err in pretending to Science (l). But if it were so, all that could thence be concluded is that the first Philosophers, the Academicks and Pyrronists, have better Philosophiz'd than the Peripateticks, Cartesians, and other Dogmatists; and I do not believe the Author would establish his Philosophy upon such a Sophism, unless there were necessary Truths, we could have no true Science; therefore there are necessary Truths.

(m) But though we might suppose there were necessary Truths in Physick, Medicine, &c. and might determine about this Question, without being utterly excluded from the knowledge of Truth.

Though these Truths were necessary by their Nature, and their immutability by some new Mystery was still an effect of the free determination of the Will of God.

Though the necessity of these Truths proceeded from the immutability of this Will, whilst yet it is the Cause of all the Changes happening in the Universe.

Though we should be moreover assur'd that God had resolv'd to preserve these Truths in an entire immutability.

We must still suppose in order to enter into his Opinion, the knowledge of the Existence of God and of his Will, of his Liberty and of his Power.

[Page] (n) Which obliges me to make some Reflexions upon what he has borrowed from Faith to add to Reasons Philosophical, which is what we may look upon as his third Supposition.

After having prov'd that we must yield only to Evidence, except in matters of Faith, which are not submitted to the disquisition of Reason; I conclude with these words.Page 9. ‘Mysteries then of Faith must be distinguished from things of Nature: we ought equally to submit to Faith and to Evidence, but in the concernments of Faith we must not look for Evidence, as in those of Nature we ought not to take up with Faith; that is, with the Authority of Philosophers. In a word, to be a Believer 'tis required to assent blindly, but to be a Philosopher it is necessary to see plainly.’

Mysteries of Faith must be distinguished from things of Nature. Thus judiciously speaks the Author, and concludes with these words, which might even pass for (o) a Proverb: To be a Believer 'tis requir'd to assent blindly, but to be a Philosopher 'tis necessary to see plainly. Mean while I wonder he observes not in his Book the Resolution he made of not (p) mingling the concerns of Religion with the decisions of Philosophy: for it's too visible that one half of his Book is nothing but Reflexions upon original Sin, deprav'd Manners, and corrupt Inclinations, which Christian Morality is to correct.

(q) I blame not his Piety in this, nor believe it a thing unbecoming a Christian to labour upon these Subjects. But that ought to be reserv'd for Sermons.

(r) Or if he had design'd to take the occasion of insinuating these Morals, as knowing that the true way of moving the Heart pathetically is to do it by discovering to the Mind the Truths that are of nearest concernment to it; he might have satisfied that laudable desire, but should have contriv'd for that purpose particular Chapters, which he has done too in some places. But once more, a very little thing will serve to confound the Light we begin to receive in the Search after Truth.

(s) We cannot at the same time satisfie both Reason and Faith, since Reason obliges us to open our Eyes, and Faith commands us to shut them.

(t) And yet I find he has so interwoven his principal Propositions with the Credenda of Religion, that he seems to talk more like a Divine than Philosopher. For example,Page 6. among other things he concludes, That (u) if the Will had not this Liberty, but must have embrac'd every thing that came cloath'd with an appearance of Truth, it would have almost ever been deceived; whence probably it might be concluded that the Author of its Being was the Author of its Errours and Seducements. And afterwards, We have therefore a Liberty given us by God, that we might avoid falling into Errour. 'Tis visible this reasoning is founded on the Author's supposing God will not deceive us (x). But may it not be doubted whether God has not made us for the enjoyment of probability only, and resolv'd to reserve the knowledge of Truth as his own peculiar; or whether he designs not this as a pure accession to our Happiness (y) in Heaven; wherefore we ought not to conclude that he would be a Deceiver, if he should not afford us the means of discovering it.

(z) I leave it, Sir, to you to think what the Pyrronists would say, if they should hear this arguing. Many such there are in the process of this piece, especially in the last part, whereof most Chapters contain Arguments which include theological Questions(a).

[Page] (b) Whether then he considers all these Suppositions as Articles of Faith, or regards them as Truths demonstrable by Philosophy, he ought still to distinguish them from the Fundamentals of his Work.

If he considers them as Articles of Faith, he is very well p [...]rsuaded they are obscure: If he looks on them as conclusions of Humane Science, his Method ought to precede them, and not imploy them as Principles to depend upon.

If I thought the World would be concern'd to know exactly that the Animadverter has not understood what he has pretended to encounter, I would thus continue him on to the end of his Book, and would make it undeniably appear that he has hardly ever taken my Sense, and that he had no Idea of my Design; but I believe that reasonable Men will be very indifferent in this particular: and therefore not to weary them to no purpose, and yet to discharge that Debt which some persons think I owe to Truth, I will answer in few words all the Chapters of the Animadversions; and I desire such as shall have leasure and curiosity enough, to examine whether my Answers are just, by confronting the Animadversions with the Search.

In the fourth Article or Chapter, the Animadverter opposes my Opinions at large, without knowing them. He does not consider there are two sorts of Traces, one which the Mind forms to represent things by, as the Trace which accompanies the Idea of a Square; the other which accompanies abstract Ideas but represents them not; such are the Traces which the Sound of Words and the Sight of Characters produce in the Brain, which naturally have no power to represent or raise Ideas. This one Distinction overthrows the grand Reasonings of our Author.

In this fifth Chapter he puts upon me many Opinions which I never had. 'Tis not true, That I acknowledge all our Ideas to be but Modes of our Soul's existing. Page 44. On the contrary, I have in the third Book which he reflects on, given a Chapter on purpose to shew that Opinion indefensible. When a Man will play the Critick, 'tis fit, methinks, he should read the Book he takes to task.Page 47. Nor is it true, that I own that the Ideas we receive by the Senses, represent only the Effects produc'd in us hy external Objects. I have said the contrary in several places, in the fifteenth Chapter of the first Book, and elsewhere. Why does he not cite, or rather why does he not examine what he Criticises on? For what remains, I cannot distinctly conceive all the Argumentations he here makes. I know not the Reason of them: those who attentively read them may think of them what they please. But I scruple not to affirm, that he is so far from impugning my Opinion about the manner of the Minds perceiving external Objects; that on the contrary, what he says in this Article shews he knows nothing of it.

In his sixth Chapter, he imposes on me what he calls my sixth Supposition; or rather he has no knowledge of my Opinion upon that Subject: To me he seems not so much as to have read what I have written on it;Page 56, 57. he affirms in several places that I bottom upon Mr. des Cartes's resolution upon that Question, when yet my Opinion is intirely different from his. But 'tis evident to all that understand Mr. des Cartes, and have read what I have said upon that Question, that the Author neither understands mine nor Mr. des Cartes's Opinions. Mean-while he argues vehemently without knowing what he opposes, and even sometimes without discovering what he aims at.

The Author is very much in the wrong in his seventh Chapter, to require me to prove the Existence of Extension,Page 62. when I mean only to assault the Errours of the Senses in point of sensible Qualities, and I should have repented if I had follow'd that Method. I prove what is serviceable to me in the sequel, and I establish nothing upon the Supposition he attributes to me.Page 64. Moreover I cannot tell how it came into his Head, after seven years, to complain of an Answer of Monsieur Rohault; he should have replied to it whilst he was alive, but he wanted courage: for every one knows with what accuracy and force that learned Man repell'd the Blows that were offer'd him, and with two or three words, pronounc'd without all manner of Heat and Passion, humbled the Imagination of such as being full of themselves, thought to cover him with confusion.

In answer to the eighth Chapter, I desire the Author to take notice, first, that there is difference between an Evil,Page 80. and the Representation of it; and therefore the Will may fly the former, and yet aquiesce in the latter. Secondly, that though the Will be nothing but the natural Motion of the Soul towards Good in general? yet the Rest or Acquiescence of the Soul in evident Truths proceeds from the Will, because Rest is produ'd by Motion. God will still imprint on us this natural Motion of Love, when we shall intirely repose our selves upon him. For the Motion of Love doth not cease by the possession of Good, and by the view of Truth, as Motion of Bodies is interrupted by Rest. We might say farther, that even Bodies rest not as capable of Figures, but with respect to Motion. The rest need no Answer, if the Reader will carefully consider those places in the Search which he attacks; for 'tis needless to answer Objections which vanish upon a distinct Understanding of what I have written, though they appear considerable in themselves.

In the ninth Chapter the Author opposes my own Objections, and neglects the Answers I have given them; and not knowing there are several sorts of Liberty, he fancies, with a great deal of Joy, that I have fallen into a Contradiction.

I have nothing to say to his Tenth Chapter, but that what he comments on seems too clear to stand in need of his Reflexions;Page 98. and that I think it cannot reasonably be doubted there is a City in Italy call'd Rome, though it cannot be mathematically demonstrated.

In the eleventh Chapter, the Author does not observe that I have referred to some Books of St. Austin, and the Meditations of Mr. des Cartes, to prove a thing, which yet is sufficiently receiv'd, and which he pretends I had no right to suppose. He ought to know my Design was not to establish a System, and to remember that all I vigorously demand, is, to enter into some diffidence of our Senses; as I have caution'd in the last Chapter concerning the Errours of the Senses.

In answer to the Consequences he infers in his Twelfth Chapter, against an Example alleadg'd by me, and which he will have to pass for an Head of my Method, we need but say, that Men ought to reason only upon their clear and distinct Ideas, whithout being sollicitous about what they cannot reach; and that 'tis not necessary to know whether there are actually Bodies without us, to conclude many Physical Truths.

[Page]I have no more to say to his Thirteenth Chapter, but that I wish a Man would attentively read what I have said concerning the manner of our knowing the Soul, in the Seventh Chapter of the Second Part of the Third Book, and the Chapter following, where I speak of the Essence of Matter.

Last of all, to do justice to the Reasonings of the last Chapter; it suffices to know distinctly my manner of explaining how we see external Objects.

This is all I thought necessary to answer to the Animadverter, as being persuaded that those who thoroughly conceive my Notion will have no need of an Illustration upon the pretended Difficulties he urges to me; and others who have not read nor comprehended the things I treat of in the Book he opposes, would not understand the largest Answers I could give them.

'Tis sufficiently manifest from the three first Chapters of the Animadversions, which I have refuted more at large, what, we are to think of the other, which I have answerd in a word or two. Those who have Time and Inclination may examine them more exactly: but for my own part I should think I wasted both my own time and that of others, if I should stay to collect all the Paralogisms which are scatter'd through his Book, to acquaint those persons with them, who doubtless have little or no desire to know them.

The Reason and Judgment of worthy Men cannot suffer those long-winded Discourses, which tend to no good, but onely shew the Spleen and ill Humour of their Authors; and 'tis a ridiculous thing to imagine that others interess themselves in our Quarrels, and to call them to be Witnesses of the weakness and vain efforts of our Adversary.

He that attacks me has no reason to find fault with my manner of Defence; for if I answer not all his Animadversions in an ample way, 'tis not because I despise him. He may conclude, that I should not have warded off the Blows he design'd me, if I did not think him able to hurt me; and I think I have more reason to complain of the negligence of his Animadverting, than he has to be angry at my manner of answering him. Had our Author zealously buckled to engage me, I am persuaded he had found me Exercise; for I judge not of the Strength of his Parts by a venturous Sally of his Pen, which he seems only to make by way of Pastime. Thus the negligence he manifests is to my advantage, and for my part I complain not of his remisness, as being unworthy his Application and his Anger. All that I am sorry for, is, that he speaks not seriously of serious things; that he sports with Truth, and wants some of that Respect which is due to the Publick, when he trys to over-wit it several different ways, as this Answer in part has manifested.

If I have been oblig'd to speak of him as I have done on some occasions, he must thank no body but himself; for I have suppress'd, for fear of displeasing him, many Expressions and Thoughts, which his manner of acting breeds naturally in the Mind. I have so great an Aversion to all useless Con [...]ests, and that are prejudicial to Charity, that I will never answer those who oppose me without understanding me, or whose Discourses give me some reason to believe they have some other motive than the Love of Truth. As for others I shall endeavour to satisfie them. I see plainly, that if I were oblig'd to answer all that have the good Will of assaulting me, I should scarce ever enjoy the repose I desire. But as there is no Law in France which hinders them from speaking, so there is none which forbids me to be silent.

It may be whilst I am silent, my Insulters may find themselves ill treated by some invisible hand; for I cannot help it, if the Love of Truth provokes some Wits, who might do it with better Grace, to defend a Work in which they had no part. But I wish this promise I make, and freely without any constraint, may be remembred; and that those Writings may not be imputed to me, which I might make, but which I declare I never will. Mean-time I think that those that have nothing solid to oppose to me, had much better say nothing, than fatigue the World with Writings, which break Charity, and are useless to the discovery of Truth.

ANSWER.

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(a) 'TIS because this is more certain than any thing else, and that there is nothing certain if this be not. For if Two times Two are necessarily equal to Four, if a Whole be necessarily bigger than its Part, there are necessary Truths. I know not for what reason the Animadverter would have me think of proving what cannot be prov'd, unless by something more obscure and difficult. This is not to Philosophize Pref. Page 4. after the manner of the ancient Academy.

(b) This is curious and far fetch'd. All the first Philosophers, except Parmenides, have denied there were necessary and contingent Truths. What wonder is it? 'Tis a fine thing, this Erudition; certainly Meditation can never teach us what we learn from the reading the Ancients, though we understand them but by halves. But 'tis visible that our Author understands the old Philosophers no better than the new.

(c) I say indeed that ought to make a Question apart, but he will let it have no part.

(d) The demand is pleasant, but the Author would not have made it, if he had but read the Third Book of the Search after Truth, since I have there clearly given my Thoughts upon these things. But it seems our Author takes Truths for certain little Beings, which are born and die every Moment.

[Page](e) There are two sorts of immutable Truths. Some are immutable of themselves, or by their Nature, as that twice Two are Four; and others because they have been determin'd by the Will of God, which is not subject to change; as that a Bowl should move another on such an encounter. 'Tis easie to see he has not understood what he pretends to oppose. He was not aware that the Conjuctive Particle and had sometimes the same purport as the Disjunctive or; for if he had observ'd it, he could with no good Grace have seriously wrangled upon the Ambiguity of a Particle. He might have easily consider'd that Truths which are Necessary by their Nature, as that Two times Two make Four, need not the Will of God to make them such. But be it granted, that I had not sufficiently explain'd my self; yet the place on which he criticises being but accessary to my Design, it was not necessary to explain my self more at large. Would a Man be at the pains of reading it, he might see I needed only to say, there were necessary Truths, and that I was not oblig'd to examine the cause of their nececessity.

(f) For my part I know not what he drives at: this is a very commodious way of criticising; a Man has Reason whenever he desires it.

(g) He imposes on me three Falsities in six Lines. I have never determin'd upon this Question, neither in undue Circumstances, nor with insufficient Proofs; for I have not so much as spoken of it; but if he has a mind to know my Thoughts of it, I fear not to affirm that God cannot cause Contradictories to be true and false at the same time.

(h) He confounds Beings with Truths. Man is capable of Reason and Sense. A Globe may be divided into two Hemispheres. A Man and a Globe are subject to change, but these Truths are immutable.

(l) All this concerns not me, but only shews the Fecundity of our Author.

(m) Consider, if you please, all these Flourishes, endeavour to understand them, and admire how the Imagination seduces Reason: I think our Author may be said to resemble a Man, who imagining he sees his Enemy at hand, should presently charge against the Phantom, should pierce it with his Sword, should cut off its Head; and then, over-joy'd with so successful and easie a Conquest, should triumphantly exclaim, though my Pistols had miscarried, my sword had run him through; but though my Sword had missed him, yet I had cut off his Head; but lastly,[Page] though his Head should have remained upon his Shoulders, yet I found him so feeble and easily to be conquered, that I had nothing to fear from him. 'Tis visible from all these Flourishes, that our Author fancies he has severely handled me, whilst yet I am as insensible of his Wounds, as the Enemy the poor Man thought he had so cruelly Butcher'd.

(n) I ought in our Author's opinion to have begun with Theology to prove methodically there are necessary and contingent Truths: but I do not believe that Conduct would have had the Approbation of many People; and seeing it is an hard task to content the Criticks, I cannot believe our Animadverter would have been well satisfied. This third Head, which I am going to comment on, as on the preceding, sufficiently shews us what he is.

(o) I know not whether what I say ought to be rank'd amongst Proverbs and Quibbles, for that depends upon the Tast; and I refer my self to those whom the Passion for criticising has not made over scrupulous and dainty. They likewise may reflect whether this niceness suits well with the Author of this Discourse, and whether he ought so much to pretend to an exquisite Tast.

(q) Can he not see that these things are not of themselves Articles of Faith, and that we may speak of the Goodness of God, deprav'd Manners, and corrupt Inclinations without having recourse to Faith.

(p) There's a great difference between mingling and confounding. I shall always distinguish things of Faith from those of Nature, as I here say ought to be done. But I never made a Resolution not to speak of God or Christian Morality in treating about the Search after Truth. The Author seems not to understand me, that he may play the Critick with less trouble.

(r) There are in these Animadversions some little Raileries which provoke to Pity, but this might raise ones Indignation. Let him know once for all, that if I consented to the Publication of this Book, 'twas chiefly because it contains those things which he condemns as Enthusiasms. Page 12.

(s) If he speaks of himself, we ought to take his word for it.

(t) What he has said is true, but what he goes to conclude from it is false, it being Reason and not Faith which teaches us God is no Deceiver.

(u) He has here suppress'd two words, which give all the force to my reasoning, which runs thus, If it must infallibly and necessarily have embrac'd every thing; we shall see by and by what reason he had for this Retrenchment.

(x) Reason teaches us, that God is no Deceiver, and Faith supposes it; which is quite contrary to what the Animadverter imagines.

(y) It cannot be doubted when we have Reasons for it; but it is needless to stand to answer all these Questions.

(z) I do not conclude it with that Argument: Mine is good, and this good for nothing; there is difference between INFALLIBLY and NECESSARILY forcing us to embrace Errour, and not giving us the means to discover Truth. Certainly these words, Infallibly and Necessarily, ought not to be suppress'd.

(a) He cannot shew a place in the whole Book he animadverts on, where I suppose any Article of Faith as a Principle from whence to draw any Consequences Essential to the Search of Truth. But he imagines if a Man speaks but of the Goodness of God, deprav'd Manners, and corrupt Inclinations, he is treating of some Article of Faith.

[Page](b) Methinks these two Conclusions have no other aim than to gain by surprise some little Applauses from such as give them gratis.

ADVERTISEMENT.

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SInce the first Impression of this second part, two Books have been publish'd relating to it. The first entituled, Animadversions upon the Animadversions on the Search after Truth, wherein is discovered, &c. I am highly oblig'd to the Author of these Animadversions for the Honour he seems to do me by the Title of his Book; but since this Title may make the World believe I had some hand in his Work, I think my self oblig'd to say, that though I am very well satisfied with his Person, I am not extremely pleas'd with his Book. Methinks that those who meddle in defending or opposing others, ought to read their Works carefully, so as to be throughly acquainted with their Opinions. But the Search after Truth, you'll say, merits not the Application of Men of Parts: True, it deserves not therefore that the Person spoken of, who undoubtedly is a Man of great Sense and Worth should either impugn or defend it.

The Title of the second Book runs thus; The Animadverter's Answer to the Preface of the second Volume of the Search after Truth, wherein is examin'd &c. I intreat those who interess themselves in the difference of others, not to believe me on my bare word, nor easily to imagine I am in the right. I think I have Liberty to demand of them, that they will carefully examine the Answers I have made to the Animadversions in that Preface, and the Argumentations of the Animadverter, in reference to the Book oppos'd? so I think I may without offence to the Author of this Answer, require of those who would judge of it, not to imagine he has reason on his side, upon a slight and transient reading of his Book. I desire them not to judge of any of his Answers before having examined it, with reference to this Preface and the preceeding Books. Take here for an instance the first of his Answers, which begins thus.

Vpon what the Author of the Search pretends, the Animadverter imposes on him touching his Design

Page 1▪ The Animadverter's Answer.

.

'Tis not imposing on him, to make his Book pass for a Collection of Observations, thought by him useful to the discovery of Truth. 'Tis plain I have positively declared that I look upon his Book, as a Collection of many Remarks, &c. If the Author had consider'd these words, he would not have accus'd me of imposing on him: [Page] for he could not deny but he had a Design of offering something serviceable to the discovery of Truth, which is all that I attributed to him. And lower, Wherein I even prove that that is not to be imputed to him, which he affirms I impose upon him. Lastly, he concludes this Article with these words; 'Tis therefore evident the Author of the Search cannot prove I impose on him, unless he will maintain he had a Design of writing a Book altogether useless to the Search of Truth.

These Words might possibly make a Man imagine, I had without Reason accus'd the Animadverter of imposing on me in the Design of the Search; but whoever would but confront what he here says with the foregoing Preface, or with what he has said himself, pag. 9, 10. of his Animadversions, would I hope be of another mind. That I may not give the trouble of turning to it, these are my words.

Nevertheless as he is pleas'd to make me undertake a Design I do not execute, that he may have the more to charge upon my Conduct, so he goes to prove it was my Design to lay down a Method in that Book. I do him no injury, says he, in looking on his Book as a Method to lay the Foundation of the Sciences. For besides that the Title expresses so much, he declares himself upon the Point in the following manner: ‘Let us examine the Causes and Nature of our Errours; and since the Method of examining things by considering them in their Birth and Origin is the most regular and perspicuous, and serves better than others to give us a thorough knowledge of them, let us try to put it here in practice.’

Methinks these words, I do him no injury, says he, &c. which I cite out of the Animadversions, are clear enough, and that a Man need but understand English to see that the Animadverter imposes on me a Design of giving a Method, and pretends too to prove it by the Title of the Search, as also by a passage of the same Book; and yet he boldly concludes this Article with these words, 'Tis therefore evident the Author of the Search cannot prove I impose on him, &c.

But what! he has positively declar'd he look'd upon the Search after Truth, as a Collection of many Observations. I cannot deny, says he, but he had a Design of offering something useful to the discovery of Truth, which is ALL (mark that word) I attribute to him. Since he has a mind to be diverted, see my Answer.

A Painter has drawn a Polyphemus, and standing behind his Piece, hears some Critick say, Look here, Gentlemen, the Artist design'd to paint an Hercules; but if you mind it, it is a Polyphemus. The Painter, out of patience, starts from behind the Scene, and gives the Spectators to undrestand, he had no Design of representing an Hercules, and that he imposes on him. The Critick surpriz'd, addresses the Painter, Sir, why so angry? what did you design to represent? Polyphemus, returns the Painter. Strange, Sir! replies the Critick, why do you say I impose on you? I call these Gentlemen to witness, that ALL that I said, was, you had drawn a Polyphemus: upon which the Painter withdraws contented, and says no more.

I think my self therefore obliged to rest silent upon such like Answers. I have shewn by the Animadverter's own words, that he imposes on me a Design of giving a Method in the first Book of the Search, and that he likewise pretends to prove it. I have cited the place of the Animadversions, from whence I have taken my proof. Nevertheless, this Author affirms he does not impose on me; that 'tis evident I cannot prove it; that he proves quite contrary; that what I say he imposes on me is not to be imputed to me; that ALL he atributes to me is a Design of offering something useful to the discovery of Truth. In a word, that he has positively declared he look'd on the Search as a Collection of many Observations? as if from his regarding the Search as a Collection, it were to be concluded I had no other Design.

I say no more then, but hope this Example may keep Men from judging without examining. I have taken the three first Pages of his Book, and have not given my self the liberty of chusing, which ought to be consider'd; yet I intend not this for an Answer, remembring the obligation I have laid on my self at the end of the preceding Preface; and I had rather those who think I have not satisfied the Animadversions, because I have answer'd but three Chapters at length, should say, this Book whereof I answer but three Pages, remains without Reply, than weary the World with Answers, which tend only to the justifyng other Replies.

F. MALEBRANCHE's TREATISE Concerning the SEARCH after TRUTH. TOME II. BOOK V.

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CHAP. I.

Of the Nature and Original of Passions in general.

THE Mind of Man has two essential or necessary Relations extreamly different; the one to God, and the other to its Body. As mere Mind, it is essentially united to the Divine Word, the Eternal Wisdom and Truth; since it is only by that Union that 'tis capable of thinking, as is proved in the Third Book. As a humane Mind, it has an essential Relation to its Body, since it is by Virtue of that Union that it imagines and perceives by its Senses, as is explained in the First and Second Book. We call the Mind Sense or Imagination, when the Body is the natural or occasional Cause of its Thoughts: and we call it Understanding, when it acts by it self, or rather, when God acts in it, or his Light illuminates it several different ways, without a necessary Relation to what is done in the Body.

It's even so with the Will of man; as a Will, it essentially depends on the Love that God bears to himself, on the Eternal Law, and in short on the Will of God. It is only because God loves himself, that we love any thing; for if God did not love himself, or did not continually influence the Soul of man with a Love like his own; that is, with the Motion of Love, which a Man feels in himself for Good in general; we should love nothing, we should will nothing, and consequently should be destitute of Will; since Will is nothing else but that Impression of Nature that carries us towards Good in general, as hath been said several times Book 1. Chap. 1. and elsewhere..

But the Will, considered as the Will of Man, essentially depends upon the Body, since it is by reason of the Motion of the Blood and Animal Spirits, that it feels its self affected with all its sensible Commotions. And therefore I have called Natural Inclinations all the Motions, which the Soul has common with pure Intelligences, together with some in which the Body hath a great Share, but of which it is only the indirect Cause and End, and I have explained them in the foregoing Book.—Here I understand by Passions, All the Motions which naturally affect the Soul, on occasion of the extraordinary Motion of the Blood and Animal Spirits. And so shall these sensible Commotions be the Subject of this Book.

Though the Passions be inseparable from the Inclinations, and Men be only susceptible of a sensible Love and Hatred, because they are capable of a Spiritual Love and Hatred; however it was though fit to treat of them separately, in order to prevent Confusion. For if it be considered, That the Passions are far stronger and livelyer than the Natural Inclinations; that they have for the most part other Objects, and are always produced by different Causes: it will be granted, That we do not distinguish, without Reason, things that are inseparable in their own Nature.

Men are capable of Sensations and Imaginations only because they are capable of pure Intellections, the Senses and Imagination being inseparable from the Mind; and yet none finds fault with those that distinctly treat of those Faculties of the Soul, which are naturally inseparable.

Last of all, the Senses and Imagination differ not more from the pure Understanding, than the Passions from the Inclinations. And therefore as the three first Faculties use to be distinguished, so ought also the two last; that we may the better distinguish what the Soul receives from its Author, with Relation to its Body, from that which it also has from him, but without that Relation.

The only Inconveniency that may grow out of the distinction of two things so naturally united, is the necessity of repeating some things that had been said before, as is usual in the like occasions.

Man is one, though he be Compounded of several parts, and the union of those parts is so intimate, that one of them cannot be affected without a Commotion of the whole. All his [Page] Faculties are linked together, and so subordinated, that it is impossible to explain some of them, without touching upon the others. So that when we labour to find out a Method to prevent Confusion, we necessarily fall into Repetitions: but 'tis better to repeat, than not to be Methodical, because we ought above all to be plain and intelligible; and therefore whatever we can doe in this occasion, is to repeat, if possible, without wearying the Reader.

The Passions of the Soul are Impressions of the Author of Nature, which incline us to love our Body▪ and whatever is useful for its preservation: As the natural Inclinations are Impressions of the same Author, that principally move us to love him as the Sovereign Good.

The natural or occasional Cause of these Impressions is the Motion of the Animal Spirits, which disperse through the Body, to produce and maintain in it a disposition suitable to the Object perceiv'd, that the Mind and Body may in that conjuncture mutually help each other. For 'tis the Institution of God that our Willings be attended with such Motions of our Body, as are fit to put them in execution; and that the Motions of our Body which Machinally rise in us, at the perception of some Object, be follow'd with a Passion of the Soul, that inclines us to will what seems at that time profitable to the Body. It is the continual Impression of the Will of God upon us, that keeps us so strictly united to a portion of matter; for if that Impression of his Will should cease but a moment, we should instantly be rid of the Dependency upon our Body, and all the Changes it undergoes.

For I cannot understand what some people imagine, that there is a necessary Connection betwixt the Motion of the Blood and Animal Spirits, and the Commotions of the Soul. Some small Particles of Choler violently move in the Brain, must therefore the Soul be agitated with some Passion, and must that Passion be Anger rather than Love? What Relation can there be conceived betwixt the Idea of an Enemy's Imperfections, the Passion of Contempt or Hatred, and the Corporeal Motion of some Particles of the Blood, that beat against some parts of the Brain? How they can imagine that the one depend upon the other, and that the Union or Connection of two things so distant, and so incompatible, as the Mind and Matter, can be caused and preserved any otherwise, than by the continual and Almighty Will of the Author of Nature, is to me unconceivable.

Those that suppose that Bodies necessarily and by themselves communicate their Motion to each other, in the instant of their concourse, make but a probable supposition? neither is their prejudice altogether groundless, since Bodies seem to have an Essential Relation to Bodies. But the Mind and Body are two sorts of Beings so opposite, that those who think that the Commotions of the Soul necessarily follow upon the Motion of the Blood and Animal Spirits, do it without the least probability. For nothing but our own Consciousness of the Union of those two Beings, and the Ignorance of the continual Operations of God upon his Creatures, can make us imagine another Cause of the Union of our Soul and Body, than the Will of God.

It is hard to determine, whether that Union or Connection of the thoughts of the Mind of Man, with the Motions of his Body, is a punishment of Sin, or a Gift of Nature. And some persons believe it a rash and imprudent Attempt to chuse one of these Opinions rather than the other. It is well known, that Man before his Sin was not a Slave, but absolute Master of his Passions, and that he could, merely by his Will, stop at his pleasure, the Agitation of the Blood that caused them. But we can hardly persuade our selves that the Body did not importune the Soul of the first Man to find out such things as were fit for the preservation of his Life: We can scarce believe but Adam before his Sin found Fruits pleasant to the sight and grateful to the Taste, if we rightly consider the words of the Holy Scripture; nor shall we come to think that the Oeconomy of the Senses and Passions, which is so wonderfully contrived and adapted to the preservation of the Body, is a Corruption of Nature, instead of its Original Institution.

Doubtless Nature is at this present corrupted: the Body acts too violently upon the Mind: and whereas it ought only to make an humble Representation of its wants to the Soul, it domineers over her, takes her off from God, to whom she ought to be inseparably united, and continually applies her to the search of such sensible things, as tend to its preservation. She is grown as it were material and terestrial ever since her Fall; the Essential Relation and Union that she had with God being broken, that is to say, God being withdrawn from her, as much as he could be without her destruction and annihilation. A thousand disorders have attended the absence or departure of him that preserv'd her in Order; and without making a longer Enumeration of our Miseries, I freely confess that Man since his Fall is corrupted in all his parts.

That Fall however has not quite destroyed the Work of God; for we can still discover in Man, what God at first put in him; and his immutable Will, that constitutes the Nature of every thing, was not changed by the Inconstancy and Fickleness of the Will of Adam. Whatever God has once will'd he still wills, and because his Will is efficatious, brings it to pass. The Sin of Man was indeed the Occasion of that Divine Will, that makes the Dispensation of Grace, but Grace is not contrary to Nature; neither do they destroy each other; since God is not opposed to himself, that he never repents, and that his Wisdom being without Limits, his Works will be without End.

And therefore the Will of God, that constitutes the Dispensation of Grace, is superadded to that which makes the Oeconomy of Nature, in order to repair and not to change it. There are then in God but these two general Wills, and the Laws by which he governs the World depend on one or other of them. It will plainly appear, by what follows, that the Passions are very well order'd, if considered only in reference to the Preservation of the Body, though they deceive us in some very rare and particular Occasions, which the universal Cause did not think fit to remedy. [Page] Thence I conclude, That the Passions belong to the Order of Nature, since they cannot be ranked under the Order of Grace.

'Tis true, that seeing the Sin of the first man has deprived us of the Help of an always-present God, and always ready to defend us; It may be said, That Sin is the Cause of our excessive adhesion to sensible things, because Sin has estranged us from God, by whom alone we can be rid of our Slavery.

But without insisting longer upon the Enquiry after the first Cause of the Passions let us examine their Extent, their particular Nature, their End, their Use, their Defects, and whatever they comprehend.

CHAP. II.

Of the Vnion of the Mind with sensible things; or of the Force and Extent of the Passions in general.

IF all those who read this Work would be at the pains to reflect upon what they feel within themselves; it would not be necessary to insist upon our Dependency upon all sensible Objects. I can say upon this Head but what every one knows as well as I do, if he will but think on it; and was therefore very much inclined to pass it over. But Experience having taught me, That Men often forget themselves so far, as not to think or be aware of what they feel, nor to enquire into the Reason of what passes in their own Mind; I thought it fit to propose some Considerations that may help them to reflect upon it. And even I hope, That those who know such things will not think their Reading ill bestowed: for though we do not care to hear simply rehearsed what we very well know, yet we use to be affected with Pleasure at the hearing of what we know and feel together.

The most honourable Sect of Philosophers, of whose Opinions many Pretenders boast still now a-days, will persuade us, That it is in our power to be happy. The Stoicks Tunc beatum esse te judica cum tibi ex te gaudium omne nascetur; cum in his quae homines eripiunt, optant, custodiunt, nihil inveneris, non dico quod malis, sed quod velis. Sen. Epist. 124. continually say, We ought only to depend upon our selves; we ought not to be vexed for the Loss of Dignities, Estates, Friends, Relations; we ought to be always calm and without the least Disturbance whatever happens; Banishment, Injuries, Affronts, Diseases, and even Death are no Evils, and ought not to be feared, and a thousand Paradoxes of that Nature, which we are apt enough to believe; both because of our Pride, that makes us affect Independency, as that because Reason teaches us that most part of the Evils, which really afflict us, would not be able to disturb us, if all things remained in good Order.

But God has given us a Body, and by that Body united us to all sensible things: Sin has subjected us to our Body, and by our Body made us dependent upon all sensible things. It is the Order of Nature, it is the Will of the Creatour, that all the Beings that he has made should hang together: And therefore being united to all things, and the Sin of the first Man having made us dependent on all Beings, to which God had only united us: there is now none but he is at once united and subjected to his Body, and by his Body to his Relations, Friends, City, Prince, Country, Cloaths, House, Estate, Horse, Dog, to all the Earth, to the Sun, the Stars, and the Heavens.

It's then ridiculous to tell Men, that it is in their power to be happy, wise, and free: It is to jeer them, seriously to advise them they ought not to be afflicted for the Loss of their Friends or Estates. For as it were absurd to exhort Men not to feel Pain when they are beaten, or not to be sensible of Pleasure when they eat with an Appetite; so the Stoicks are either unreasonable, or not in good earnest, when they cry, That we ought not to be sorry for the Death of our Father, the Loss of our Goods, our Banishment, Imprisonment, and the like; nor to be glad of the happy Success of our Affairs: since we are united to our Country, Goods, Friends, &c. by a Natural Union, which at present has no dependence on our Will. I grant that Reason teaches us, we are to undergo Banishment without Sorrow: but the same Reason likewise teaches us we ought to endure the cutting off our Arm without Pain; because the Soul is superiour to the Body, and that, according to the light of Reason, her happiness or misery ought not to depend upon it: but 'tis ridiculous to argue against Experience, which in this occasion will convince us that things are not so, as our Reason intimates they ought to be.

The Philosophy of the Christians is quite different from that; they deny not but Pain is an Evil, and that it is hard to be separated from those things to which Nature has united us, or to rid our selves from the Slavery Sin has reduc'd us to. They agree that it is a Disorder that the Soul shall depend upon her Body, but they own withall that she depends upon it, and even so much that she cannot free her self from that Subjection but by the Grace of our Lord. I see, Rom. 7▪23, 24▪ saith St. Paul, another Law in my Members warring against the Law of my Mind, and bringing me into Captivity to the Law of Sin, which is in my Members. O wretched Man that I am! who shall deliver me from the Body of this Death? the Grace of God through Jesus Christ our Lord shall do it. The Son of God, his Apostles and all his true Disciples command us above all to be Patient, because they know that Mis [...]ry must be the Expect [...]tion and Portion of the Righteous. In short, true Christians or true Philosophers, say nothing but what is agreeable to sound Reason and Experience; whereas all Nature continually impugns the proud Opinion and presumption of the Stoicks.

[Page]The Christians know that to free themselves in some manner from the Subjection they are under, they must endeavour to deprive themselves of all those things that they cannot enjoy without Pleasure, nor want without Pain; it being the only means to preserve that Peace and Liberty of Mind, which they owe to their Deliverer's Beneficence. On the contrary the Stoicks, following the false Notions of their Chimerical Philophy, imagine that they are wise and happy, and that they need but think upon Vertue and Independency, to become Vertuous and Independent. Sound Reason and Experience assure us, that the best way not to feel the smart of stinging is to shun the Nettle: but the Stoicks say, ‘Sting me never so much, I shall by the strength of my Mind, and the help of my Philosophy, raise my self so high above my Body, that all your pricking shall not reach me. I can demonstrate that my Happiness depends not upon it, and that Pain is not an Evil; and you shall see by the Colour of my Face, and by the whole deportment of my Body, that my Philosophy has made me invulnerable.’

Their Pride bears up their Courage, however it hinders not but that they should suffer Pain with Vexation, and be really miserable; so that their Union with their Body is not destroyed, nor their Pain vanished; but all this proceeds from their Union with other Men, strengthened by the desire of their Esteem, which in some manner withstands the Union of their Soul with their Body. The sensible view of the Spectators, to whom they are united, stops the Course of the Animal Spirits that should follow upon the pain, and blots out the Impression they would make upon their Face; for was there no body to look on them, that Phantasm of Constancy and Liberty of Mind would presently vanish: So that the Stoicks do only in some degree withstand the Union of their Soul to their Body, by making themselves greater Slaves to other Men, to whom they are united by a drift of Glory. And 'tis therefore an undoubted truth, that all Men are united to all sensible things, both by Nature and their Concupiscence; which may sufficiently be known by Experience, and of which all the Actions of Mankind are sensible demonstrations, though Reason seems to oppose it.

Though this Union be common to all Men, 'tis not however of an equal Extent and Strength in all; for as it proceeds from the Knowledge of the Mind; so it may be said that we are not actually united to unknown Objects. A Clown in his Cottage does not concern himself with the Glory of his Prince and Country, but only with the honour of his own and the Neighbouring Villages; because his Knowledge does not extend farther.

The Union with such Objects as we have seen, is stronger than the Union to those we have only imagin'd, or heard relation of; because by Sensation we are more strictly united to sensible things, as leaving deeper Impressions in our Brain, and moving the animal Spirits in a more violent manner, than when they are only imagin'd.

Neither is that Union so strong in those that continually oppose it, that they may adhere to the Goods of the Mind, as it is in those who suffer themselves to be carried away and inslav'd by their Passions, since Concupiscence increases and strengthens that Union.

Last of all, the several Employments and States of this Life, together with the various dispositions of divers Persons, cause a considerable difference in that sensible Union which Men have with Earthly Goods: Great Lords have greater Dependencies than other Men, and their Chains, as I may call them, are longer. The General of an Army depends on all his Souldiers, because all his Souldiers reverence him. This Slavery is often the Cause of his Valour; and the desire of being esteem'd by those that are Witnesses of his Actions, often drives him to Sacrifice to it more sensible and rational desires. The same may be said of all Superiours, and those that make a great Figure in the World, Vanity being many times the Spur of their Vertue, because the love of Glory is ordinarily stronger than the love of Truth. I speak here of the love of Glory, not as a simple Inclination but a Passion, since that love may become sensible, and is often attended with very lively and violent Commotions of the Animal Spirits.

Again the different Ages and Sexes are primary Causes of the difference of Passions. Children love not the same things as adult and old Men, or at least love them not with that Force and Constancy. Women depend only on their Family and Neighbourhood; but the dependencies of Men extend to their whole Country, because 'tis their part to defend it; and that they are mightily taken up with those great Offices, Honours and Commands, that the State may bestow upon them.

There is such a variety in the Employments and Engagements of Men, that it is impossible to explain them all. The disposition of Mind in a Married Man is altogether different from that of a single Person; for the former is in a manner wholly taken up with the care of his Family. A Fryar has a Soul of another make, and depends upon fewer things than the Men of the World, and even than Secular Ecclesiasticks, but he is stronger fastned to those few things. One may argue in the same manner concerning the different States of Men in general, but the little sensible engagements cannot be explain'd, because they differ almost in every private Person; it often hapning that men have particular Engagements altogether opposite to those that they ought to have in reference to their condition. But though the different Genius and Inclinations of Men, Women, Old Men, Young Men, Rich, Poor, Learned, and Ignorant, in short of all the different Sexes, Ages and Conditions, might be fully treated of in general; yet they are too well known by those that are conversant with the World, and of all the thinking part of Mankind, to increase with them the Bulk of this Book; especially, seeing that our Eyes may afford us a very pleasant and solid Instruction of all such matters. But if any chuse to read them in Greek, rather than to learn them by his own reflection on what he sees, I refer him to the second [Page] Book of the Rhetoricks of Aristotle; which I take to be the Master-Piece of that Philosopher; because he says there few things, in which he can be mistaken; and that he seldom ventures to prove what he asserts.

It is therefore evident that the sensible Union of the Mind of Men, with whatever has any Relation to the preservation of their Life, or of the Society of which they are Members, differs in different Persons; reaching farther in those that have more Knowledge, that are in a higher Station, and are indued with a larger Fancy; whereas that Union is stricter and stronger in those that are more sensible, that have a livelyer Imagination, and have more blindly given up themselves to the violence of their Passions.

Such Considerations upon the almost infinite Bands that fasten Men to sensible Objects, are of an extraordinary Use; and the best way to become a great proficient in this sort of Learning, is the study and observation of our selves; since from the Inclinations and Passions, of which we are conscious in our selves, we can be fully assur'd of all the inclinations of other Men, and can make a good guess at a great part of the Passions they are subject to: to which adding the Information we can get of their particular Exgagements, and of the different Judgments that follow from every different Passion, of which we shall speak hereafter; it may perhaps not prove so hard a Task to guess most part of their Actions, as it is for an Astronomer to foretell an Eclipse. For though Men be free, yet it seldom happens that they make use of their Liberty, in opposition to their natural Inclinations and violent Passions.

Before the Close of this Chapter I must observe, that it is one of the Laws of the Union of the Soul and Body, that all the Inclinations of the Soul, even those she has for Goods, that have no relation to the Body, should be attended with Commotions of the Animal Spirits, that render those Inclinations sensible; because Man being not a pure Spirit, it is impossible he should have any Inclination altogether pure, and without mixture of any Passion whatsoever. So that the love of Truth, Justice, Vertue, of God himself, is always attended by some Motion of the Animal Spirits that render that love sensible, though we be not aware of their sensibility, being then taken up with livelyer Sensations. Just as the Knowledge of Spiritual things is always accompanied with traces on the Brain, which indeed make that Knowledge more lively, but commonly more confused: 'Tis true we are frequently inapprehensive of the Imagining Faculty's mixing in any manner with the Conception of an abstracted Truth. The Reason of it is, that those Truths are not represented by Images, or traces of Nature's Institution, and that all the traces that raise such Ideas, have no Relation with them, but such as proceeds from Chance, or the Free-will of Men. For Instance, Arithmeticians and Algebraists, who apply themselves to very abstracted Objects, make however a very great use of their Imagination, in order to fix the view of their Mind upon these Spiritual Ideas. The Cyphers, the Letters of the Alphabet, and the other Figures which they see or imagine, are always join'd to those Ideas, though the traces that are wrought by these Characters have no proper Relation to those abstracted Objects, and so can neither change nor obscure them: Whence follows, that by a proper Use and Application of these Cyphers and Letters, they come to discover such remote and difficult Truths, as could not be found out otherwise.

Since therefore the Ideas of such things as are only perceivable by the pure Understanding, can be connected with the traces of the Brain, and that the sight of Objects that are beloved, hated or fear'd by a Natural Inclination, can be attended with the Motion of the Animal Spirits; it plainly appears, that the thoughts of Eternity, the fear of Hell, the hope of an Eternal Happiness, though they be Objects never so insensible, can however raise in us very violent Passions.

And therefore we can say that we are united in a sensible manner, not only to such things as relate to the preservation of our Life, but also to Spiritual things, with which the Mind is immediately, and by it self united. And even it often happens, that Faith, Charity, and Self-Love, make that Union with Spiritual things stronger, than that by which we are join'd to all sensible Objects. The Soul of the true Martyrs is more united to God, than to their Body; and those that suffer Death for asserting a false Religion, which they believe to be true, give us sufficiently to know, that the fear of Hell has more power upon them than the fear of Death. There is for the most part so much heat and obstinacy on both sides, in the Wars of Religion, and the defence of Superstitions, that it cannot be doubted but some Passion has a hand in it; and even a Passion far stronger and stedfaster than others, because it is kept up by an Appearance of Reason, both in such as are deceived, and in those that follow the Truth.

We are then united by our Passions to whatever seems to be the Good or the Evil of the Mind, as well as to that which we take for the Good or Evil of the Body. Whatever can be known to have any relation to us can affect us, and of all the things we know, there is not one but it has some reference or other to us. We are somewhat concern'd even for the most abstracted Truths, when we know them; because there is at least that Relation of Knowledge betwixt them and our Mind, and that in some manner we look on them as our Property, by virtue of that Knowledge. We feel our selves as wounded when they are impugned; and if we be wounded, then surely we are affected and disturb'd. So that the Passions have such a vast and comprehensive Dominion, that it is impossible to conceive any thing in reference to which it may be said, that Men are exempt from their Empire. But let's now see what is their Nature, and endeavour to discover whatever they comprehend.

CHAP. III.

[Page]

A particular Explanation of all the Changes, happening either to the Body or Soul in every Passion.

SEven things may be distinguished in each of our Passions, save Admiration only, which is indeed but an Imperfect Passion.

The first is the Judgment the Mind makes of an Object, or rather the confused or distinct View of the Relation that Object has to us.

The second is a New Determination of the Motion of the Will towards that Object, provided it be or seem to be a Good. Before that View, the Natural Motion of the Soul was either undetermin'd, that is to say, she was carried towards Good in general, or it otherwise determined by the knowledge of some particular Object. But in the very instant of the mind's perceiving that Relation of the new Object to it self, that general Motion of the Will is forthwith determin'd, conformably to the perception of the Mind. The Soul advances near that Object by her Love, that she may relish it, and discover her good in it, through a sensible delectation which the Author of Nature affords her, as a Natural Reward of her Inclination to Good. She judged that that Object was a Good by an abstracted and unpathetick Reason, but she persists in the persuasion of it, through the Efficacy of Sensation; and the livelyer that Sensation is, the stronger is her adhesion to the Good that seems to be the Cause of it.

But if that particular Object be considered as Evil, or able to deprive us of some Good, there happens no New Determination in the Motion of the Will; but only the Motion towards the Good, oppos'd to that seemingly evil Object, is augmented: which augmentation is greater or les [...]er, as the Evil seems to be more or less formidable to us. For indeed we hate only because we love, and the Evil that is without us is judg'd no farther Evil, than with reference to the Good of which it deprives us: So that Evil being consider'd as a privation of Good, to fly from Evil is to fly the privation of Good, which is the same thing as to tend towards Good; and therefore there happens no new determination of the Natural Motion of the Will, at the presence of an unwelcome Object; but only a Sensation, painful, distasteful or imbitter'd, which the Author of Nature inflicts on the Soul, as a pain naturally consequent to her being depriv'd of Good. Before Sin, that Sensation was not a pain, but only a warning; because, as I have said elsewhere, Adam might, whenever he pleased, stop the Motion of the Animal Spirits that produce Pain: So that, if he ever felt pain, 'twas because he consented to feel it; or rather he never felt any, because he never had a mind to feel it. Reason alone had not been sufficient to carry her to it, wherefore this painful and vexing Sensation is superadded to quicken her. Thence I conclude, that in any Passion whatsoever, all the Motions of the Soul towards Good, are the Motions of Love. But as we are affected with divers Sensations, according to the various Circumstances that attend the View of Good, and the Motion of the Soul towards it; so we come to confound our Sensations with the Commotions of the Soul, and to imagine as many different Motions in the Passions, as there are different Sensations.

Upon this head it must be observed that Pain is a true and real Evil, and no more the Privation of Pleasure, than Pleasure the Privation of Pain: for there is a great difference betwixt not feeling or being depriv'd of such a Sensation of Pleasure, and the actual enduring of Pain: So that every Evil is not precisely so, because it deprives us of Good, but only that Evil, as I have explain'd, that is without us, or is not a Modification of our Soul. Nevertheless as by Goods and Evils we commonly understand things good or evil, and not the Sensations of Pleasure and Pain, which are rather the natural Tokens by which the Soul distinguishes Good from Evil; it may be said methinks without Equivocation, that Evil is nothing but the privation of Good, and that the natural motion of the Soul, that removes us from Evil, is the same with that which carries us to good; for in brief, all natural Motion being an Impression of the Author of Nature, whose acting centers in himself, and who can incline us only towards himself: The true Motion of the Soul is always essentially the Love of Good, and but accidentally an Aversion from Evil.

I grant that Pain may be consider'd as an Evil, and in that sense the Motion of the Passions, which is stir'd up by it, is not real, since we never will Pain; and though we positively will the absence of Pain, yet 'tis only because we positively will the Preservation or Perfection of our Being.

The third thing to be observ'd in every Passion is the Sensation that attends them; the Sensation of Love, Hatred, Desire, Joy, Sorrow, which are all different in the different Passions.

The fourth thing is a new Determination of the course of the Animal Spirits and Blood to the outward and inward parts of the Body. Before the View of the Object of the Passion, the vital Spirits were dispers'd throughout the whole Body, for the preservation of all its parts in general; but at the appearance of that new Object, all this Order and Oeconomy is disturb'd, and most part of the Spirits are thrown into the Muscles of the Arms, Legs, Face, and other exteriour parts of the Body, to put them in a disposition suitable to the ruling Passion, and to give it such a gesture and motion, as are necessary for the obtaining or avoiding the imminent Good or Evil: But if its own Forces are insufficient for its occasions, these same Spirits are distributed in such a manner as make it machinally utter certain words and cries; and which diffuse over the Face and the rest of the Body, such an air and comportment, as is capable of actuating others with the same Passion [Page] it self is possess'd with. For Men and Beasts having a mutual cohesion by the Eyes and Ears, when any one of them is in a violent Commotion, it necessarily affects the Spectators and Hearers, and naturally makes upon their Imagination such an Impression as troubles them, and moves them to preserve it.

As to the rest of the Animal Spirits, they violently descend into the Heart, Lungs, Liver, Spleen, and other Viscera, thence to draw contributions, and to hasten those parts to send forth a sufficient and timely supply of Spirits, necessary to preserve the Body in that extraordinary Contention.

The fifth thing is a sensible Commotion of the Soul, who feels her self agitated by an unexpected overflow of Spirits. This sensible Commotion of the Soul always attends that Motion of the Spirits, that the Soul may participate of all that affects the Body; even as the Motion of Spirits is raised in the Body, when the Soul is carried toward any Object. For the Body and Soul being mutually united, their Motions are reciprocal.

The sixth thing are several Sensations of Love, Hatred, Joy, Desire, Sorrow, that are produced, not by the Intellectual view of Good or Evil, as those that have been already mention'd, but by the various concussions that are caused in the Brain by the Animal Spirits.

The seventh thing is a certain Sensation of Joy, or rather internal Satisfaction, which detains the Soul in her Passion, and assures her that she is in the fittest State she can be, in reference to the Object she considers. This internal satisfaction attends all the Passions whatsoever, whether they proceed from the sight of an Evil, or from the sight of a Good, Sorrow as well as Joy. This satisfaction makes all the Passions pleasant, and induces us to yield our consent, and give up our selves to them; and 'tis that satisfaction which must be overcome by the Delights of Grace, and the Comforts of Faith and Reason. For as the Joy of the Mind is the result of a certain or evident Knowledge that we are in the best state that can be in relation to the Objects perceiv'd by the Understanding; so the pleasantness of the Passions is a natural consequence of that confused Sensation we have of being in the best state we can be in reference to those things we perceive by our Senses. Now 'tis by the Joy of the Mind, and the Comforts of Grace, that the false delight of the Passions, which makes us Slaves to sensible Goods, must be vanquished.

All the forementioned things are to be found in all the Passions, unless they be raised by confused Sensations, and that the Mind perceive not the Good or Evil from whence they proceed; for then 'tis plain that they have not the three first qualifications. It likewise appears that all these things are not free, since they are in us without our Consent, and even against it since the Sin; but that the Consent of our Will is the only thing which is really in our power. However it will be fit to explain all these things more at large, and to make them more sensible by some Instances.

Let us suppose a Man to whom an Affront has been actually offer'd, or one whose Imagination is either naturally strong and lively, or over-heated by some Accident, as a Disease or a Surfeit of Sorrow and Melancholy. This Man in his Closet fancies that such a one, who perhaps does not think upon him, is willing and ready to wrong him. The sensible View, or the Imagination of the Opposition betwixt the Actions of his Enemy and his own designs, will be the first Cause of his Passion.

That the Motion of this Man's Will may acquire some new determination, it is not absolutely necessary that he should receive, or imagine he receives any Affront; for 'tis sufficient that his Mind only should think on it, without his Body's being concern'd in it. However as this new determination would not be the determination of a Passion, but only a most weak and languishing Inclination: 'Tis better to suppose that some great opposition is actually made to this Man's Designs, or that he strongly fancies that it will be so; than to make another Supposition, wherein the Senses and Imagination are little or not at all concern'd.

The second thing to be consider'd in this Man's Passion, is an increase of the Motion of his Will towards that Good, of which his real or pretended Enemy endeavours to deprive him: the stronger the opposition is, or appears, the more considerable will be the increase. He at first hates his Adversary, only because he loves that Good, and his Hatred against him grows in proportion to his Love for it; because the Motion of the Will in the Passion of Hatred is at bottom nothing else but a Motion of Love; that Motion of the Soul towards Good not differing from that by which she avoids its Privation, as has been already observ'd.

The third thing is a Sensation suitable to that Passion; in our Instance 'tis a Sensation of Hatred. But though the Motion of Hatred be the same with that of Love, yet the Sensation of Hatred is altogether different from that of Love, as any one may experience in himself. Motions are Actions of the Will, but Sensations are Modifications of the Mind. The Motions of the Will are natural Causes of the Sensations of the Mind; and these Sensations of the Mind reciprocally encourage and keep up the Motions of the Will in their Determination. The Sensation of Hatred is in the Man before us, the natural result of the Motion of his Will, excited upon the view of Evil, and this Motion is afterwards maintained by the Sensation it hath produced.

What we have just now said of this Man might happen to him, though he had not a Body. But because he's made up of two Substances naturally united, the Motions of his Soul are communicated to his Body, and those of his Body to his Soul; so that the new Determination, or the increase of the Motion of his Will, naturally causes a new Determination in the Motion of the Animal Spirits, which is always different in all the Passions, though the Motion of the Soul be still almost the same.

[Page]The Spirits therefore are violently driven into the Arms, Legs and Face, to dispose the Body in a manner adapted to the Passion, and to shed over the Face the Look of an injured Person, with reference to all the Circumstances of the Injury receiv'd, and to the Quality and Capacity both of the Agent and Patient. That Expansion of the Spirits is so much the more strong, abundant and quick, as the Good is greater, the Opposition more vehement, and the Brain livelyer affected.

And therefore if the Person whereof we speak only imagine himself injur'd, or if he receive a real but slight injury, that makes no considerable concussion in the Brain, the Expansion of the Animal Spirits will prove weak and languishing, and perhaps insufficient to alter the natural and ordinary Disposition of the Body. But if the Outrage be exceeding great, or the Imagination enflam'd, the Brain will be extraordinarily shaken, and the Spirits so violently dispers'd, that in a moment they will imprint on the Face and Body the Symptoms of the ruling Passion. If he be strong enough to obtain the Victory, his Countenance will be fierce and threatning. If weak and unable to withstand the overwhelming Evil, he will appear humble and submissive. His Moans and Tears naturally exciting in the Spectators, and even in his Enemy Motions of Pity, he will draw from thence those succours which he could not expect from his own strength. True it is, that if the Spirits and Fibres of the Brain, in the Spectators and Adversary of that unhappy Wretch, be already agitated with a violent Motion, contrary to that which breeds Compassion in the Soul, the bemoanings of the Distress'd will but increase their Fury; and so would his undoing be inevitable, should he always keep the same Countenance and Aspect. But Nature has provided for it, for at the sight of the imminent loss of a great good, there are naturally produced on the Face such strange and surprizing Characters of Rage and Despair, as to disarm the most Barbarous Enemies, and to make them as it were unmovable. That frightfull and unexpected sight of the Lineaments of Death, drawn by the Hand of Nature upon the Face of an unfortunate Person, stops in the very Enemy, stricken therewith, the Motions of the Spirits and Blood, that carried him to Revenge; and in that favourable moment of Audience, Nature printing again an humble submissive air upon the Face of the poor Wretch, that begins to entertain some hopes, because of the unmovableness, and alteration of the Countenance, of his Enemy, the Animal Spirits of that Enemy receive a new determination, of which they were not capable a moment before; and this Machinal Motion of Compassion which he yields to, inclines the Soul to yield to the Pleas of Charity and Mercy.

Because a Man taken up with a Passion cannot, without a great plenty of Spirits, produce or preserve in his Brain an Image of his Misery lively enough, nor a Concussion sufficiently strong, to give his Body an extraordinary and constrain'd Disposition: the corresponding Nerves within the Body receive upon his sight of the Evil, the Concussions and Agitations that are necessary to infuse, into all the Vessels that communicate with the Heart, fit Humours, to the producing such Spirits as the Passion requires. For the Animal Spirits spreading through the Nerves that go to the Liver, Spleen, Pancreas, and all the other Viscera, agitate and shake them, and by their Agitation force out such Humours as those parts keep in reserve, for the Wants and Exigencies of the Machine.

But if those Humours always flowed in the same manner into the Heart; if they received an equal Fermentation in different times, and the Spirits, that are made of them, regularly ascended into the Brain, we should not see such hasty Changes in the Motions of the Passions. For instance, the sight of a Magistrate would not stop, of a sudden, the extravagant Transports of an enraged Person, persuing his Revenge; and his Face, all fiery with Blood and Spirits, would not in an instant turn pale and wan for fear of Punishment.

So, to hinder those Humours that are mixed with the Blood from entering the Heart constantly in the same manner, there are Nerves that surround all the Avenues thereof, which being compressed or dilated by the Impression, that the sight of the Object, and the strength of the Imagination produce in the Spirits, shut up or open the way to those Humours. And lest the said Humours should undergo the same Agitation and Fermentation in the Heart in divers times; there are other Nerves that cause the Beatings of it, which being not equally agitated in the different Motions of the Spirits, drive not the Blood with the same force into the Arteries. Other Nerves spread through the Lungs, distribute the Air to the Heart, by constringing or relaxing several Branches of the Trachea used in Respiration, and order the Fermentation of the Blood proportionably to the Circumstances of the predominant Passion.

Last of all, to regulate with the greatest Accuracy and Readiness the Course of the Spirits, there are Nerves surrounding the Arteries, as well those that end in the Brain, as those that carry the Blood into the other parts of the Body; so that the Concussion of the Brain, which accompanies the unexpected Sight of some Circumstance, for which 'tis convenient that the Motions of the Passion should be alter'd, suddenly determines the Course of the Spirits to the Nerves thus surrounding the Arteries; that by their Contraction they may shut up the Passage to the Blood that ascends into the Brain, and by their Dilatation lay it open to that which runs into all the other Parts of the Body.

When those Arteries that carry the Blood to the Brain are free and open; and on the contrary, those that disperse it through the rest of the Body are strongly bound up by these Nerves, the Head must all be full of Blood, and the Face appear all fiery; but some Circumstance altering the Commotion of the Brain, that caused that Disposition in the Nerves, the Arteries that were strait bound are loosened, and on the contrary, the Arteries of the Brain strongly contracted. Then is the Head emptied of Bloud, the Face covered with Paleness, and the small quantity of Blood, [Page] which issues from the Heart, and which the Nerves before mentioned admit into it, as the Fewel to keep in Life, descends most or all into the lower parts of the Body; the Brain wants Animal Spirits, and all the rest of the Body is seized with Weakness and Trembling.

To explain and prove the Particulars of what we have mentioned, it would be necessary to give a general Knowledge of Physicks, and a particular of the Humane Body; but those two Sciences are still too imperfect to be treated of with as much Accuracy as I could Wish: besides that, should I proceed farther in this Matter, it would carry me too far from my Subject; and therefore I only design here to give a gross and general Idea of the Passions, and am satisfied, provided that this Idea be not false.

Those Concussions of the Brain, and Motions of the Blood and Spirits, are the fourth thing to be found in every Passion, and produce the fifth, namely the sensible Commotions of the Soul.

At the very Instant that the Animal Sprits are driven from the Brain into the rest of the Body, to produce such Motions as are fit to keep up the Passion; the Soul is carried towards the good perceived: and this more or less strongly, according as the Spirits come down from the Brain with more or less vehemence; for 'tis that Concussion of the Brain which agitates the Soul and the Animal Spirits.

The Motion of the Soul towards Good is so much stronger, as the View of Good is more sensible and apparent; and the Motion of the Spirits that proceed from the Brain, and flow into the other parts of the Body, is the more violent, as the Vibration of the Fibres of the Brain, caused by the Impression of the Object or of the Imagination, is more forcible; because that Concussion of the Brain occasioning a more sensible and lively View of Good, necessarily makes the Commotion of the Soul in the Passions to increase proportionably to the Motion of the Spirits.

Those Commotions of the Soul are not different from those that immediately follow the Intellectual View of Good, which we have mentioned before: only they are stronger and livelyer, because of the Union of the Soul and Body, and the sensibleness of the View that produces them.

The sixth thing to be met with is the Sensation of the Passion; the Sensation of Love, Hatred, Desire, Joy or Sorrow▪ This Sensation is not at all different from that which has been spoken of; only 'tis livelyer, because the Body has a greater share in it: but 'tis always attended with confused Sensation of Satisfaction, that makes all the Passions grateful; which is the last thing to be found in each of them, as has been already hinted.

The Cause of this last Sensation is such; At the sight of the Object of a Passion, or of any new Circumstance, part of the Animal Spirits are driven from the Head to the outward Parts of the Body, to put it in the Disposition that the Passion requires; together with which some other Spirits make a violent descent into the Heart, Lungs, and other Viscera, to draw from thence the necessary Supplies, as has been already sufficiently explained. Now the Body is never in a convenient Sta [...]e, but the Soul relishes it with great Satisfaction; whereas it is never in a State con [...]rary to its Good and Preservation, but that she endures it with pain. And therefore when we follow the Motions of our Passions, and stop not the Course of the Spirits, which the View of the Object of the Passion produces in the Body, to put in it the most convenient State with relation to that Object, the Soul by Nature's Law is affected with a Sensation of Satisfaction and Delight, because her Body is in the Disposition it requires: whereas when, according to the Laws of Reason, the Soul stops the Current of the Spirits, and withstands those Passions, she suffers a Pain proportionable to the Evil that may from thence arise to the Body.

For as the Reflection that the Soul makes upon her self is necessarily accompanied with the Joy or Sorrow of the Mind, and afterwards with the Joy or Sorrow of the Senses; when doing her Duty, and submitting to the Orders of God, she is conscious that she is in a due and convenient state; or when having given her self up to her Passions, she is afterwards affected with Remorse, which teaches her that she is in a corrupt Disposition: So the Course of the Spirits raised for the good of the Body, is first attended with sensible, and afterwards with Spiritual Joy or Sorrow, according as the Course of the Animal Spirits is retarded or promoted by the Will.

There is however this notable difference betwixt the Intellectual Joy that attends the clear Knowledge of the good Estate of the Soul, and the sensible Pleasure that accompanies the confused Sensation of the good disposition of the Body; that the intellectual Joy is solid and substantial, without Remorse, and as immutable as its Original Cause, the Truth; whereas sensible Joy is almost ever followed with the Sorrow of the Mind, or the Remorse of the Conscience, and is as restless and fickle, as the Passion or Agitation of the Blood from whence it proceeds. To conclude, the first is for the most part attended with an exceeding Joy of the Senses when it is derived from the Knowledge of the great good that the Soul possesses; whereas the other is very rarely accompanied with any great Joy of the Mind, though it proceeds from a Good, considerable for the Body, but contrary to the Good or Perfection of the Soul.

'Tis nevertheless true, That without the Grace of our Lord, the satisfaction the Soul relishes when she gives her self up to her Passions is more grateful, than that which she enjoys when she follows the Rules of Reason; which satisfaction is the Source of all the Disorders that have attended the Original Sin, and would have made us all Slaves to our Passions, had not the Son of God rid us from their Tyranny, by the Delectation of his Grace. For what I have said on behalf of the Joy of the Mind in opposition to the Joy of the Senses, is only true amongst the Christians, and was altogether false in the Mouths of Seneca, Epicurus, and all the most rational of the Heathen Philosophers; because the Yoke of Christ is only sweet to those that belong to him, and his Burthen only light ▪ when his Grace helps us to support the Weight of it.

CHAP. IV.

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That the Pleasure and Motion of the Passions engage us in Errours, and false Judgments about Good; That we ought continually to resist them. How to impugn Libertinism.

ALL those general Qualities and Effects of the Passions, that we have hitherto treated of, are not free, they are in us without our Leave, and nothing but the Consent of our Will is wholly in our Power. The View or Apprehension of Good is naturally followed with a Motion of Love, a Sensation of Love, a Concussion of the Brain, a Motion of the Spirits, a new Commotion of the Soul that encreases the first Motion of Love, a new Sensation of the Soul, that likewise augments the first Sensation of Love; and lastly, a Sensation of Satisfaction which recompenses the Soul for the Bodies being in a convenient State. All this happens to the Soul and Body naturally and mechanally; that is, without her having any part in it, nothing but her Consent being her own real Work. This Consent we must regulate, preserve, and keep free, in spite of all the Struggle and Attempts of the Passions. We ought to submit our Liberty to none but God, and to yield to nothing but to the Voice of the Author of Nature, to inward Evidence, and Conviction, and to the secret Reproaches of our Reason. We ought never to consent, but when we plainly see, we should make an ill Use of our Liberty, in with-holding our Consent. This is the principal Rule to be observ'd for the avoiding of Errour.

God only makes us evidently perceive, That we ought to yield to what he requires of us; to him alone therefore we ought to devote our Services. There is no Evidence in the Allurements and Caresses, in the Threats and Frightnings caused in us of the Passions; they are only confused and obscure Sensations, to which we must never yield up our selves. We must wait till all those false Glimpses of the Passions vanish, till a purer Light illuminates us, till God speaks inwardly to us. We must enter within our selves, and there seek him that never leaves us, that always enlightens us. He speaks low, but his Voice is distinct; his Light is weak, but pure. But no, his Voice is as strong as 'tis distinct, and his Light is as bright and active as 'tis pure. But our Passions continually keep us from home, and by their Noise and Darkness, hinder us from being instructed by his Voice, and illuminated by his Light. He speaks even to those that ask him no Questions; and those, whom Passions have carried farthest from him, fail not yet many times to hear some of his Words,Heb. iv.12, 13. but loud, threatning, astonishing Words, sharper than a two-edged Sword, piercing into the inmost Recesses of the Soul, and discerning the Thoughts and Designs of the Heart. For all things are open to his Eyes, and he cannot see the unruly Actions of Sinners, without lashing them inwardly with smarting Reproofs. We must then re-enter into our selves, and approach near him; we must interrogate him, listen to him, and obey him; for by always listning to him, we shall never be deceived; and always obeying him, we shall never be subjected to the Inconstancy of the Passions, and the Miseries due to Sin.

We must not, like some pretenders to Wit, whom the Violence of Passion has reduced to the Condition of Beasts; who, having a long time despised the Law of God, seem at last to have retained no Knowledge of any other than that of their infamous Passions: We must not, I say, imagine, as do those Men of Flesh and Blood, that it is following God, and obeying the Voice of the Author of Nature, to give up our selves to the Motions of Passions, and to comply with the secret Desires of our Heart: This is the utmost possible Blindness; 'tis, according to St. Paul, the temporal Punishment of Impiety and Idolatry, that is to say, the Desert of the most enormous Crimes. And herein indeed the greatness of this terrible Punishment consists, that instead of allaying the Anger of God, as do all the others in this World, it continually exasperates and encreases it, till that dreadful Day comes, wherein his just Wrath shall break out to the Confusion of Sinners.

Their Arguings however seem likely enough, as being agreeable to common Sense, countenanc'd by the Passions, and such, I am sure, as all the Philosophy of Zeno could never overthrow. We must love Good, say they; Pleasure is the Sign which Nature has affix'd to it to make it known, and that Sign can never be fallacious, since God has instituted it to distinguish Good from Evil. We must avoid Evil, say they again; Pain is the Character which Nature has annex'd to it, and a Token in which we cannot be mistaken; since it was instituted by God for the distinguishing it from Good. We feel Pleasure in complying with our Passions, Trouble and Pain in opposing them; and therefore the Author of Nature will have us to give up our selves to our Passions, and never to resist them, since the Pleasure and Pain wherewith he affects us in those Cases, are the infallible Criterion of his Will. And consequently, it is to follow God, to comply with the Desire of our Hearts; and 'tis to obey his Voice, to yield to the Instinct of Nature, which moves us to the satisfying our Senses and our Passions. This is their way of Reasoning, whereby they confirm themselves in their infamous Opinions: And thus they think to shun the secret Reproofs of their Reason; and in Punishment of their Crime God suffers them to be dazzled by those false Glimpses; delusive Glarings, which blind them instead of inlightning them, and strike them with such an insensible Blindness, as they do not so much as wish to be cured of it. God delivers [Page] them to a reprobate Sense, he gives them up to the Desires of their corrupt Heart; to shameful Passions, to Actions unworthy of Men, as the Holy Scripture speaks, that having fatned themselves by their Debauches, they may to all Eternity be the fit Sacrifice of his Vengeance.

But let us solve this Difficulty which they offer. The Sect of Zeno, not knowing how to untie the Knot, has cut it, by denying that Pleasure is a Good, and Pain an Evil: But that's too venturous a Stroke, and a Subterfuge unbecoming Philosophers, and very unlikely, I am sure, to convert those who are convinc'd by Experience, That a great Pain is a great Evil. Since therefore Zeno, and all his Heathen Philosophy, cannot solve the Difficulty of the Epicures, we must have recourse to a more solid and inlightned Philosophy.

'Tis true, that Pleasure is Good, and Pain Evil; and that Pleasure and Pain have been join'd by the Author of Nature to the Use of certain Things, by which we judge whether they are Good or Evil, which make us persue the Good and fly from the Evil, and almost ever follow the Motions of the Passions. All this is true, but relates only to the Body, which to preserve, and keep long a Life much like to that of Beasts, we must suffer our selves to be ruled by our Passions and Desires. The Senses and Passions are only given us for the good of the Body; sensible Pleasure is the indelible Character which Nature has affix'd to the Use of certain Things, that without putting our Reason to the trouble of examining them, we might presently imploy them for the preservation of the Body; but not with intent that we should love them: For we ought only to love those Things which Reason undoubtedly manifests to be our Good.

We are Reasonable Beings; and God, who is our Sovereign Good, requires not of us a blind, an instinctive, a compell'd Love, as I may say, but a Love of Choice, an enlightned Love, a Love that submits to him our whole Intellectual and Moral Powers. He inclines us to the Love of him, in shewing us by the Light that attends the Delectation of his Grace, that he is our Chief Good; but he moves us towards the Good of the Body only by Instinct and a confused Sensation of Pleasure, because the Good of the Body is undeserving of either the Attention of our Mind, or the Exercise of our Reason.

Moreover, our Body is not our selves; 'tis something that belongs to us, and, absolutely speaking, we cannot subsist without it: The Good of the Body therefore is not properly our Good; for Bodies can be but the Good of Bodies. We may make use of them for the Body, but we must not be taken up with them. Our Soul has also her own Good, viz. the only Good that is superiour to her, the only one that preserves her, that alone produces in her Sensations of Pleasure and Pain: For indeed none of the Objects of the Senses can of themselves give us any Sensation of them; it is only God who assures us of their Presence, by the Sensation he gives us of them; which is a Truth that was never understood by the Heathen Philosophers.

We may and must love that which is able to make us sensible of Pleasure, I grant it: But by that very Reason we ought only to love God, because he only can act upon our Soul; and the utmost that sensible Objects can do, is to move the Organs of our Senses. But what matters it, you'll say, from whence those grateful Sensations come? I will taste 'em. O thou ungrateful Wretch! know the Hand that showres down Good upon thee. You require of a just God unjust Rewards: You desire he should recompence you for the Crimes you commit against him, and even at the very time of committing them; you make use of his immutable Will, which is the Order and Law of Nature, to wrest from him undeserved Favours; for with a guilty Managery you produce in your Body such Motions as oblige him to make you relish all sorts of Pleasures. But Death shall dissolve that Body; and God, whom you have made subservient to your unjust Desires, will make you subservient to his just Anger, and mock at you in his turn.

'Tis very hard, I confess, that the Enjoyment of Corporeal Good should be attended with Pleasure, and that the Possession of the Good of the Soul should often be conjoin'd with Pain and Anguish. We may indeed believe it to be a great Disorder, by this Reason, that Pleasure being the Character of Good, and Pain of Evil, we ought to possess a Satisfaction infinitely greater in loving God, than in making use of sensible Things; since He is the true, or rather the only Good of the Mind. So doubtless will it be one Day, and so was it most probably before Sin entred into the World: At least, 'tis very certain, that before the Fall Man suffered no Pain in discharging his Duty.

But God is withdrawn from us since the Fall of Adam; he is no more our Good by Nature, but only by Grace; we feel now no Delight and Satisfaction in the Love of him, and he rather thrusts us from, than draws us to him. If we follow him, he gives us a Rebuff; if we run after him, he strikes us; and if we be obstinate in our Persuit, he continues to handle us more severely, by inflicting very lively and sensible Pains upon us. And when, being weary of walking through the rough and stony Ways of Vertue, without being supported by the Repast of Good, or strengthned by any Nourishment, we come to feed upon sensible Things, he fastens us to them by the relish of Pleasure, as though he would reward us for turning back from him, to run after counterfeit Goods. In short, since Men have sinn'd, it seems, God is not pleas'd that they should love him, think upon him, or esteem him their only and sovereign Good. It is only by the delectable Grace of Christ our Mediator, that we sensibly perceive that God is our proper Good. For Pleasure being the sensible Mark of Good, we then perceive God to be our Good, when the Grace of our Redeemer makes us love him with Pleasure.

Thus the Soul not knowing her own Good, either by a clear View, or by Sensation, without the Grace of Jesus Christ, she takes the Good of the Body for her own; she loves it, and closes [Page] to it with a stricter Adhesion by her Will, than ever she did by the first Institution of Nature. For Corporeal Good being now the only one left that is sensible, must needs operate upon Man with more Violence, strike his B [...]ain livelier, and consequently be felt and imagined by the Soul in a more sensible manner: And the Animal Spirits receiving a more vehement Agitation, the Will by consequence must love it with a greater Ardency and Pleasure.

The Soul might before Sin blot out of her Brain the too lively Image of Corporeal Good, and dissipate the sensible Pleasure this Image was attended with. The Body being subject to the Mind, the Soul might on a sudden stop the quavering Concussion of the Fibres of the Brain, and the Commotion of the Spirits, by the meer Consideration of her Duty: But she lost that Power by Sin. Those Traces of the Imagination, and those Motions of the Spirits, depend no more upon her; whence it necessarily follows, that the Pleasure, which by the Institution of Nature is conjoin'd to those Motions and Traces, must usurp the whole Possession of the Heart. See Dial. 5. of Chris [...]ian Conversations, about the end. Man cannot long resist that Pleasure by his own Strength; 'tis Grace that must obtain a perfect Victory; Reason alone can never doe it: None but God, as the Author of Grace, can overcome himself as the Author of Nature, or rather exorate himself as the Revenger of Adam's Rebellion.

The Stoicks, who had but a confused Knowledge of the Disorders of Original Sin, could not answer the Epicures. Their Felicity was but Ideal, since there is no Happiness without Pleasure, and no Pleasure to be sensibly perceiv'd by them in Vertuous Actions. They might feel indeed some Joy in following the Rules of their phantastick Vertue; because Joy is a natural Consequence of the Consciousness our Soul has of being in the most convenient State. That Spiritual Joy might bear up their Spirits for a while, but was not strong enough to withstand Pain, and overcome Pleasure. Secret Pride, and not Joy, made them keep their Countenance; for when no body was present, all their Wisdom and Strength vanished, just as Kings of the Stage lose all their Grandeur in a Moment.

It is not so with those Christians that exactly follow the Rules of the Gospel. Their Joy is solid, because they certainly know, that they are in the most convenient State: Their Joy is great, because the Good they possess through Faith and Hope is Infinite; for the Hope of a great Good is always attended with a great Joy; and that Joy is so much livelier, as the Hope is stronger; because a strong Hope representing the Good as present, necessarily produces Joy, as also that sensible Pleasure which ever attends the Presence of Good. Their Joy is not restless and uneasie, because grounded on the Promises of God, confirm'd by the Blood of his Son, and cherished by that inward Peace and unutterable Sweetness of Charity, which the Holy Ghost sheds into their Hearts. Nothing can separate them from their true Good, which they relish and take Complacency in by the Delectation of Grace. The Pleasures of Corporeal Good are not so great as those they feel in the Love of God. They love Contempt and Pain: They feed upon Disgraces, and the Pleasure they find in their Sufferings, or rather the Pleasure they find in God, for whom they despise all the rest, to unite themselves to him, is so ravishing and transporting, as to make them speak a new Language, and even boast; as the Apostles did of their Miseries and Abuses, when they departed from the presence of the Council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for the Name of JESUS. Act. 5.41. Such is the Disposition of Mind in true Christians, when they are most basely affronted for the Defence of Truth.

CHRIST being come to restore the Order which Sin had overthrown, and that Order requiring that the greatest Goods be accompanied with the most solid Pleasures; it is plain, that things ought to be in the manner we have said. But we may farther confirm and strengthen Reason by Experience; for 'tis known, that as soon as any Person has formed but the bare Resolution to despise all for God, he is commonly affected with a Pleasure or internal Joy, that makes him as sensibly and lively perceive that God is his Good, as he knew it evidently before.

The true Christians assure us every Day, that the Joy they feel in an unmixt loving and serving God, is inexpressible; and 'tis but reasonable to believe the Relation they make of what happens within them. On the contrary, the Impious are perpetually vexed with horrible Disquietudes; and those that are shar'd betwixt God and the World, partake of the Joys of the Just, and of the Vexations of the Impious: They complain of their Miseries, and 'tis reasonable to believe that their Complaints are not groundless. God strikes Men to the Quick, and through the very Heart, when they love any thing besides him; and 'tis this Stroke that causes a real Misery. He pours an exceeding Joy into their Minds, when all their Adherencies are to him only, and that Joy is the Spring of true Felicity. The Abundance of Riches and Elevation to Honours being without us, cannot cure us of the Wound God makes; and Poverty and Contempt, that are likewise without us, cannot hurt us under the Almighty's Protection.

By what we have said, 'tis plain, That the Objects of the Passions are not our Good, that we must not follow their Motions, unless it be for the Preservation of Life; that sensible Pleasure bears the like Proportion to Good, as Sensations to Truth; and that as our Senses deceive us in Matters of Truth, so do likewise our Passions in point of our Good; that we ought to yield to the Delectation of Grace, because it evidently moves us to the Love of a true Good, is not followed with the secret Reproaches of Reason, as the blind Instinct and confused Pleasure of the Passions; but is always attended with a secret Joy, suitable to the good State we are in. Last of all, since God alone can operate upon the Mind of Man, he cannot find any Happiness out of God, unless we would suppose that God rewards Disobedience, or that he commands to love more, what less deserves to be loved.

CHAP. V.

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That the Perfection of the Mind consists in its Vnion with God, by the Knowledge of Truth, and the Love of Vertue; and contrariwise, that its Imper [...]ection proceeds only from its Dependency on the Body, caused by the Disorder of the Senses and Passions.

THE shortest Reflection is sufficient to let us know, that the Good of the Mind must needs be something of a Spiritual Nature, for our Bodies are much inferiour to our Mind; they are unable to act upon it by their own strength; they cannot immediately unite themselves to it; lastly, [...]hey are not intelligible of themselves, and therefore cannot be its Good: whereas Spiritual things being intelligible of their own Nature, can be united to the Mind, and consequently be its Good, provided they be Superiour to it. For that a thing may be the Good of the Mind, it must not only be Spiritual as it self; but it must also be Superiour to it, that it may act upon it, enlighten it, and reward it; since otherwise it cannot make it perfecter and happier, nor by consequence be its Good. Now, of all Intelligible or Spiritual things, God alone is thus Superiour to the Mind; whence it follows, That nothing but God alone, either is, or can be, our true Good; and that we cannot become either more happy or more perfect, but by enjoying him.

Every one is persuaded that the Knowledge of Truth, and the Love of Vertue, make the Mind mo [...]e perfect; and that the Blindness of the Mind, and the Depravation of the Heart, lessens its natural Perfection. The Knowledge of Truth, and the Love of Vertue, cannot then be any thing else but the Union of the Mind to God; or, if I may so speak, a Possession of him: and, on the con [...]rary, the Blindness of the Mind, and the Depravation of the Heart, can be nothing else but a separation of the Mind from God, and its Union with something Inferiour to it, viz. with the [...]dy; since that is the only Union that can make it imperfect and unhappy. And therefore to know the Truth, or to know things as far as they are agreeable to the Rules of Truth, is really to know God. And to love Vertue, or to love things as far as they are amiable, or according to the Rules of Vertue, is to love him.

The Mind is situate, as it were, betwixt God and Bodies, betwixt Good and Evil, between that w [...]i [...]h enlightens, and that which blinds it; that which rules, and that which misrules it; that which can make it perfect and happy, and that which can render it imperfect and miserable. When it discovers some Truth, or sees things as they are in their own Nature; it sees them in the Ideas of God, that is, discovers them by a clear and distinct view of what is in God representing them. For, as I have observed elsewhere, the Mind of Man contains not in it self the Perfections or Ideas o [...] all the Beings it is capable of perceiving: 'tis not the universal Being, and therefore cannot see i [...] it self such things as are distinguish'd from it self. It does not instruct or enlighten it self, by consulting with it self, as being neither Perfection nor Light to it self; it stands in need to be enlightned by the immense Light of Eternal Truth. Thus the Mind, by knowing Truth, is united to God, and in some manner knows and possesses him.

We may not only say, That a Mind perceiving the Truth, partly knows God, who comprehends it; we may add also, That in some sort it knows things as God himself knows them. For the Mind knows their true Relations, and so does God; the Mind sees them in viewing the Perfections of God that represent them; God perceives them the same way: for God neither perceives by Sense, nor Imagination; but sees in himself, as being the Intellectual World, the Corporeal and Sensible World, which he has created. 'Tis the same with the Mind in its Knowledge of Truth: it comes not to it by Sensation or Imagination; for Sensations and Pantasms offer but false Representations of things to the Mind; so that whosoever discovers the Truth, sees it in the Intellectual World, to which 'tis united, and in which Good sees it; for this material and sensible World, is not intelligible of it self: so that the Mind sees in the Light of God as does God himself, all the things which it plainly sees, though it sees them very imperfectly and so very differently from God in that respect. Thus when the Mind sees Truth, it not only is united to God, possesses and beholds God, but also sees Truth in one sense as God himself sees it.

So when we love according to the Rules of Vertue, we love God; for by regulating our Love according to these Rules, the Impression of Love towards him, which he continually produces in our Heart, is not turn'd off by free Will, nor chang'd into Self-Love. The Mind at that time freely follows the Impression which God gives: and God never giving any Impression which does not tend towards him; since he only acts for himself, it is plain, That to love according to the Rules of Vertue, is to love God.

But 'tis not only to love God; 'tis likewise to love as God loves: He loves himself only, and his Works but because they relate to his Perfections, and proportionably to the degrees of Conformity they have with them; It being the same Love by which God loves himself, and whatever he has made or done. To love according to the Rules of Vertue, is to love God only, to love him in all things, and to love things proportionably as they partake of his Goodness and Perfections; since this is to love them according to the degree they are lovely. In short, 'tis to [Page] love by the Impression of the same Love by which God loves himself; for 'tis the Love by which God loves himself, and whatever else with relation to him, that animates us, when we love as we ought: whence I conclude, That we then love, as God loves.

It is therefore evident, That the Knowledge of Truth, and the regular Love of Vertue, constitute all our Perfection, since they are the costomary Attendants on our Union with God; which also affords us the Enjoyment of him▪ as far as we are capable of it, in this Life: whereas the Blindness of the Mind, and the Depravation of the Heart, make our Imperfection; and are the Results of the Union of our Soul and Body, as I have proved in several Places; shewing that we never know the Truth, nor love the real Good, when we follow the Impressions of our Senses, Imaginations, and Passions.

All this is evident; and yet Men, who all passionately desire the Perfection of their Being, care but little to increase the Union which they have with God; nay, they are continually at work to strengthen and enlarge that which they have with sensible things. The Cause of that surprizing Disorder cannot be too much explain'd.

The Possession of Good must naturally produce two Effects in the Possessour; at once must render him more perfect, and more happy: however it does not always fall out so. 'Tis impossible indeed that the Mind should actually enjoy a Good, without being actually more perfect; but it may happen that it actually enjoys it, without being actually happier. Those that know Truth best, and love most the most lovely Goods, are always actually more perfect, than those that live in blind Ignorance, and disorderly Practice; but they are not always actually happier. It is even so with Evil; it ought at once to make both imperfect and unhappy; but though it always makes Men more imperfect, yet it does not always make them more unhappy; or at least makes them not unhappy proportionably to its making them imperfect. Vertue is often bitter and distastful, whereas Vice is sweet and pleasant; so that it is especially by Faith and Hope, that pious Men are truly happy; whilst the wicked have the actual Enjoyments of Pleasures and Delights. It ought not to be so indeed, but however it is so; Sin has brought forth that Disorder, as I said in the foregoing Chapter, and that Disorder is the principal Cause, not only of the Corruption of our Morals, but also of the Ignorance and Darkness of our Mind.

By that Disorder it is that our Imagination persuades it self, that Bodies may be the Good of the Mind: For Pleasure, as I have often said, is the sensible Character, or Mark, of Good. But now of all the Pleasures we enjoy upon Earth, the most sensible are those which we imagine to receive by the Body. We judge, though too inconsiderately without doubt, that Bodies can be, and are, effectually our Good. And 'tis so hard to oppose the Instinct of Nature, and to withstand the Arguments of the Senses, that the design of it does not so much as come into our Mind. We think not on the Disorders introduc'd by Sin. We consider not that Bodies can act upon the Mind but as occasional Causes: that the Mind cannot immediately, or by it self, enjoy any Corporeal thing, and that all the ways it has of uniting to an Object are by its Knowledge and Love; that God only is superiour to it, can reward or punish it, by Sensations of Pleasure or Pain, that can enlighten and move it, in a word, act upon it. Those Truths, though most evident to attentive Minds, are not however so powerful to convince us, as is the deceiving Experience of a sensible Impression.

When we consider something as part of our selves, or look on our selves as a part of that thing, we judge it our Good to be united to it; we love it, and this love is so much the greater, as the thing, whereunto we think our selves united, seems to be a more considerable part of the whole we make up together with it. Now there are two sorts of Proofs, which persuade us that a thing is part of our self, viz. the Instinct of Sensation, and the Evidence of Reason.

By the Instinct of Sensation I am persuaded that my Soul is united to my Body, or that my Body makes part of my Being; but I have no full Evidence of it, since I know it not by the light of Reason, but by the Pain or Pleasure I feel at the presence and impression of Objects. My Hand is prick'd, I suffer Pain; thence I conclude, that my Hand makes part of my self: my Cloaths are rent, and I endure nothing; therefore, I say, my Cloaths are not my self: my Hair is cut without Pain, but cannot be pluck'd up without smart; that puzzles the Philosopher, and he knows not what to determine. In the mean while this perplexity shows, that even the wisest rather judge by the instinct of Sensation than by the light of Reason, that such or such things belong or belong not to themselves. For should they determine them by Evidence, and the light of Reason, they would quickly know, that the Mind and the Body are two sorts of Beings, altogether opposite; that the Mind cannot be united to the Body by it self, and that the Soul is wounded when the Body is struck, only because of her Union with God. 'Tis then only by the Instinct of the Sensation that we look on our Body, and all the sensible things to which we are united, as part of our selves, that is, as belonging to that which thinks and feels in us: For what is not, cannot be known by evident Reason, since Evidence discovers Truth alone.

But on the contrary, 'tis by the light of Reason that we know the Relation we have with Intellectual things. We discover, by a clear View of the Mind, that we are united to God in a more strict and essential manner than to our Body; that without him we are nothing, and neither can doe, nor know, neither will, nor be sensible of any thing: that he is our All, or if we may so speak, that we make up a whole with him, of which we are but an infinitely small part. The light of Reason discovers us a thousand Motives to love God only, and to dispise Bodies, as unworthy of our Love. But we are not naturally sensible of our Union to God, nor persuaded that he is our All, by the Instinct of sense; 'tis only the Grace of our Lord which produces in some [Page] Men that spiritual sense to help them to overcome the contrary Sensations, by which they are united to their Body. For God, as the Author of Nature, inclines Minds to the love of him by a Knowledge of Illumination, and not of Instinct; and in all probability, 'tis but since the Fall that God, as the Author of Grace, has superadded Instinct to Illumination; because our light is at present so mightily impair'd, as to be incapable of bringing us to God, being besides continually weakn'd by contrary pleasure or instinct, and rendred ineffectual.

We therefore discover by the light of the Mind, that we are united to God, and to the intellectual World which he contains; and are convinced by Sensation, that we are united to our Body, and by it to the material and sensible World God has Created. But as our Sensations are more lively, moving, frequent and lasting than our Illuminations, so 'tis not strange that our Sensations should agitate us, and quicken our love for sensible things; whereas our Light dissipates and vanishes, without producing any zeal and ardency for Truth.

'Tis true that several Men are persuaded that God is their real Good, love him as their All, and earnestly desire to strengthen and increase their Union with him. But few evidently know, that by meditating on the Truth we unite our selves to God, as far as natural strength can attain; that it is a sort of Enjoyment of him, to contemplate the true Ideas of things; and that that abstracted view of some general and immutable Truths, on which all the particulars depend, are flights of a Mind that sequesters it self from the Body to unite it self to God. Metaphysicks, speculative Mathematicks, and all those universal Sciences, which regulate and contain the particular, as the Universal Being comprehends all particular Beings, seem to be Chimerical to most Men, as well to the pious as to those that do not love God. So that I dare hardly make bold to say, that the study of those Sciences is the most pure and perfect Application to God, that the Mind may be naturally capable of; and that it is by the sight of the Intellectual World, which is their Object, that God has produced and still knows this sensible World, from which Bodies receive their Life, as Spirits live from the other.

Those that purely follow the Impressions of their Senses, and motions of their Passions, are not capable of relishing the Truth, because it flatters them not. And even the Vertuous, who constantly oppose their Passions when they proffer them false Goods, do not always resist them when they conceal from them the Truth, and make it despicable; because one may be pious without being a Man of parts. To please God we need not exactly know, that our Senses, Imagination, and Passions, always represent things otherwise than they are; since it appears not that our Lord and his Apostles ever intended to undeceive us of several Errours upon this matter, which Descartes has discover'd to us▪

There is a great difference betwixt Faith and Understanding, the Gospel and Philosophy: the greatest Clowns are capable of Faith, but few can attain to the pure Knowledge of Evident Truth. Faith represents to vulgar Men God as the Creator of Heaven and Earth, which is a sufficient motive of Love and Duty towards him; whereas Reason, knowing that God was God before he was Creator, not only considers him in his Works, but also endeavours to contemplate him in himself; or in that immense Idea of the infinitely perfect Being, which is included in him. The Son of God, who is the Wisdom of his Father, or the Eternal Truth, made himself Man, and became sensible, that he might be known by Men of Flesh and Blood, by gross material Men; that he might instruct them by that which was the Cause of their Blindness, and draw them to the love of him, and disengage them from sensible goods, by the same things that had enslav'd them; for having to doe with Fools, he thought fit to take upon him a sort of Folly whereby to make them wise: So that the most pious Men, and truest Believers, have not always the greatest Understanding. They may know God by Faith, and love him by the help of his Grace, without understanding, that he is their All, in the sense Philosophers understand him; and without thinking, that the abstracted Knowledge of Truth is a sort of a Union with him. We ought not therefore to be surprized, if so few Persons labour to strengthen their natural Union with God by the Knowledge of Truth, since to this there is required a continual opposition of the Impressions of the Senses and Passions, in a very different way from that which is usual with the Vertuous, who are not always persuaded, that the Senses and Passions abuse them in the manner that has been explain'd in the foregoing Books.

The Sensations and Thoughts, in which the Body has a share, are the sole and immediate Cause of the Passions, as proceeding from the Concussion of the Fibres of the Brain, raising some particular Commotion in the Animal Spirits: And therefore Sensations are the only sensible proofs of our dependence on some things, which they excite us to love: but we feel not our Natural Union with God, when we know the Truth, and do not so much as think upon him, because he is, and operates in us so privately and insensibly, as to be imperceptible to our selves: And this is the Reason that our natural Union with God raises not our Love for him. But it goes quite otherwise with our Union to sensible things. All our Sensations prove it, and Bodies appear before our Eyes, when they act in us. Their Action is visible and manifest. Our Body is even more present to us than our Mind, and we consider the former as the best part of our Selves. So that our Union to our Body, and by it to sensible Objects, excites in us a violent Love, which increases that Union, and makes us depend on things that are infinitely below us.

CHAP. VI.

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Of the more general Errours of the Passions, with some particular Instances.

'TIS the part of Moral Philosophy to discover the particular Errours concerning Good, in which our Passions engage us, to oppose irregular affections, to restore the Integrity of the Heart, and to rule the Course of our Life. But here we chiefly aim at giving Rules to the Mind, and finding out the Causes of our Errours, in reference to Truth; so that we shall not proceed farther in those Matters that relate to the Love of true Good. We are tending to the Instruction of the Mind, and only take the Heart in the way, in as much as the Heart is its Master. We search into Truth it self, without a special Respect to our selves; and we consider its Relation with us, only because that Relation is the Spring of Self-love's disguising and concealing it from us: for we judge of all things by our Passions, whence it is that we mistake in all things, the Judgments of Passions never agreeing with the Judgments of Truth.

'Tis what we learn in these excellent Words of St. Bernard. Amor sicut nec Odium, veritatis Judicium nescit. Vis Judicium Veritatis audire? Sicut audio,Joan. 5.30. sic judico: non sicut odi, non sicut amo, non sicut timeo. Est Judicium Odii, Joan. 19.7. ut illud; Nos Legem habemus, & secundum legem nostram debet mori. Est & Timoris, Joan. 11.48. ut illud; Si dimittimus eum sic, venient Romani, & tollent nostrum locum & gentem. Judicium verò Amoris, ut David de filio parricidâ, 2 Sam. 18.5. Parcite, inquit, puero Absalom. S. Bern. de grad. humilitatis. Neither Love nor Hatred know how to make a Judgment according to Truth. Will you hear a true Judgment? As I hear, I judge, says our Lord; he says not as I hate, as I love, or as I fear. Here you have a Judgment of Hatred: We have a Law, say the Jews, and by that Law he ought to die. Here a Judgment of Fear: If we let him alone, say the Pharisees, the Romans shall come, and take away our Place and Nation. Here another of Love, as that of David, speaking of his Parricide Son, Spare the young Man Absalom.

Our Love, Hatred, and Fear cause us to make false Judgments only. Nothing but the pure Light of Truth can illuminate our Mind; nothing but the distinct Voice of our common Master can cause us to make true Judgments, provided we only judge of what he says, and as he says, in Imitation only of our Lord, as I hear I judge: But let's see how it is that our Passions seduce us, that we may the easier resist them.

The Passions are so nearly related to the Senses, that, remembring what hath been said in the first Book, it will not be difficult to explain, how they lead us into Errour; because the general Causes of the Errours of the Passions are altogether like to those of the Errours of the Senses.

The most general Cause of the Errours of the Senses, is, as we there have shewn, our attributing to external Objects, or to the Body, the proper Sensations of our Soul, annexing Colours to the Superficies of Bodies, diffusing Light, Sounds and Odours in the Air, and fixing Pain and Titillation to those Parts of our Body that receive some Changes by the Motion of other contiguous Bodies.

Almost the same thing may be said of the Passions: we too rashly ascribe to the Objects, that cause, or seem to cause, them, all the Dispositions of our Heart, our Goodness, Meekness, Malice, Sowreness, and all the other Qualities of our Mind. The Object that begets some Passion in us, seemes afrer a sort to contain in it self the Passion produced in us, when we consider it, as sensible things seem to contain in themselves the Sensations, which their Presence excites in us. When we love any Person, we are naturally inclin'd to believe that he loves us, and can hardly imagine that he designs to hurt us, or to oppose our Desires. But if Hatred succeed in the place of Love, we cannot Persuade our selves that he has any Affection for us; we interpret all he does in the worst Sense, we are always distrustful and upon our Guard, though he thinks not upon us, or perhaps intended to doe us Service. In short, we unjustly attribute to the Person that stirs up a passion in us, all the Dispositions of our Heart, and with as much Imprudence, as we ascribe to the Objects of the Senses, all the Qualities of our Mind.

Moreover by the same Reason that we believe, other Men receive the same Sensations from the same Objects as we do; we think they are agitated with the same Passions, for the same Subjects if they are in a State of being susceptible of them. We suppose them to love and desire the same things as we our selves do, whence proceed secret Jealousies and Hatreds, if the desired Good cannot be enjoyed entire by several; for the contrary happens in Goods that can be possessed without Division by several Persons, as Science, Vertue, the Sovereign Good, and the like. We also suppose that they hate, fear or fly from the same things that we do; whence proceed secret Plots or publick Associations, according to the nature and state of the thing hated, by which means we hope to rid our selves of our Miseries.

We therefore ascribe to the Objects of our Passions the Commotions they produce in us, thinking that all other Men, and even sometimes Beasts, are agitated as we are; and besides judge yet more rashly, the Cause of our Passions, which is often but imaginary, is really in some Object.

When we have a passionate Love for any Body, his Grimace and Faces are charming, his Ugliness is not distastful, his ill-composed Motions and Gestures are regular, or at least natural. If he never speak, he is wise; if he be a great Talker, he is witty; if he speak upon all adventures, [Page] he's Universal; if he continually interrupt others, it is because he's full of Fire, of Life, and Spirit; if he pretend to top and sway every where, 'tis because he deserves it. Thus can Passion cover or dissemble the Imperfections of Friends, and advantagiously set off their most inconsiderable Qualities.

But when that Friendship, which only proceeds as other Passions do, from the Agitation of the Blood and Animal Spirits, comes to cool, through want of Heat and Spirits fit to nourish it; when Interest or some false Relation alters the Disposition of the Brain; then Hatred succeeding Love, is sure to represent to us in that Object of our Passion all the Defects that are capable of stirring up our just Aversion. We perceive in him Qualities quite contrary to those we admired before: We are asham'd of having lov'd him; and the ruling Passion never fails to justifie it self, and to ridicule that which it has follow'd.

The Power and Injustice of Passions are not included within such narrow Limits as those we have described, but extend infinitely farther; not only disguising their principal Object, but also whatever has any reference to it. They make us love not only the Qualities of our Friends, but also most part of those of the Friends to our Friends. And in those who are endued with any strength and extent of Imagination, the Passions have so vast a reach and out-let, that it is not possible to determine their Limits.

Those Things I have mention'd, are such general and fruitful Principles of Errour, Prejudice, and Injustice, that it is impossible to observe all the Consequences of them: Most of the Truths, or rather Errours, entertained in some Places, Times, Commonalties, and Families, proceed from thence. What is followed in Spain, is rejected in France; what is true at Paris, is false at Rome; what is certain amongst the Dominicans, is uncertain amongst the Franciscans; and what appears undoubted to the Black Fryars, seems an Errour to the White. The Dominicans believe themselves obliged to stick to St. Thomas. Why? Because that Doctor was one of their Order: Whereas the Franciscans follow the Opinion of Scotus, because he was a Black Fryar.

There are likewise Truths and Errours proper to certain Times. The Earth turned two thousand Years ago; then it remain'd unmovable till our Days, wherein it has began to turn again. Aristotle was formerly burnt, and a Provincial Council, approved by the Pope, most wisely forbad his Physicks to be taught: He was admired ever since, and falls now again into Contempt. Opinions that are now publickly received in the Schools, were formerly rejected as Heresies, and their Assertors excommunicated by the Bishops; because Passions stirring up Factions, Factions establish those sorts of Truths or Errours, that are as inconsistent as the Principle they proceed from. Men may indeed be indifferent as to the Unmovableness of the Earth, Concil. A [...]gl. per Spelman. A [...]. 1287. or the Essence of Bodies, consider'd in themselves; but they are no longer so, when they look on those Opinions as defended by their Adversaries. Thus Hatred, kept up by a confused sense of Piety, breeds an indiscreet Zeal, that kindles by degrees, and at last produces such Events, as are not so surprizing to all the World, till a great while after their arrival.

We can hardly imagine that Passions should reach so far, because we know not that their Impetuosity extends to whatever may satisfie them. Perhaps H [...]man would have done no harm to the Jewish People; but because Mordecai, a Jew, forbore to salute him, he on a sudden design'd the destroying of the whole Nation, that his Revenge might be the more splendid.

Two Men sue each other about a Piece of Land; they ought only to produce in Court their Titles to it, and to say nothing but what relates to the Case, or to set it off fair. However, they seldom fail to slander one another, to contradict each other in every thing, to raise trifling Contestations and Accusations, and to intricate the Suit with an infinity of Accessary Circumstances, which confound the Principal. In short, the Passions reach as far as the sight of the Mind does, in those that are affected by them. I would say, there is nothing to which we may suppose their Object to be related, but their Motion will extend to it; which is done after the following manner.

The Tracks of the Objects are so connected to each other in the Brain, that it is impossible the Course of the Spirits should violently move any one of them, without raising several others at the same time. The principal Idea of the Thing perceiv'd, is therefore necessarily accompanied with a vast number of accessary Ideas, which increase more and more, as the Impression of the Animal Spirits is more violent. Now that Impression cannot but be very violent in the Passions, because they continually hurry into the Brain abundance of such Spirits as are fit to preserve the Traces of the Ideas which represent their Object. So that the Motion of Love or Hatred extends not only to the Chief Object of either Passion, but also to all the Things that are found any ways relating to it; because the Motion of the Soul in the Passion follows the Perception of the Mind, as the Motion of the Animal Spirits in the Brain follows the Traces of the Brain, as well those that excite the principal Idea of the Passion's Object, as those that are related to it.

And therefore we must not be surprized if Men carry their Hatred or Love to such a heighth, and commit such strange and capricious Actions. Every one of those Effects has its proper Cause, though unknown to us; because their accessary Ideas being not always like to ours, we cannot rightly judge of them: So that Men act always by some particular Reason, even in those Actions that appear most extravagant to us.

CHAP. VII.

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Of the Passions in particular: And first, Of Admiration, and its ill Effects.

WHatever I have said hitherto of the Passions is general, yet 'tis no hard matter to draw particular Inferences from it: If one do but reflect upon what occurs in his own Breast, and upon the Actions of others, he will discover at one View, a greater number of those Truths, than can be explain'd in a considerable time. However, there are so few who think of retiring into themselves, and make any Attempt to that purpose, that, to quicken them, and raise their Attention, it will not be amiss somewhat to descend into Particulars.

It seems, when we handle or strike our selves, that we are almost insensible; whereas if we be but never so little touched by others, we receive such lively Sensations as awaken our Attention. In a word, as it never comes into our Mind to tickle our selves; and if it did, perhaps the Attempt would be unsuccessful: So, almost for the same Reason, the Soul cares not to feel and sound her self, is presently disgusted at that sort of Exercise, and commonly is incapable of feeling or knowing all the Parts that belong to her, till touch'd and made sensible to her by others: So that it will be necessary, for the facilitating some People in acquiring the Knowledge of themselves, to mention some of the particular Effects of the Passions, to [...]each them, by touching them, of what Make and Constitution their Soul is of.

In the mean while, those that shall read the following Thoughts, must be forewarn'd, that they will not always be touched to the Quick, nor be aware that they are subject to the Passions and Errours of which I shall speak; because particular Passions are not always the same in all Men.

All Men indeed have the same natural Inclinations, which referr not to the Body; and likewise all those that relate to it, when 'tis in a very good Constitution: But its various Tempers and frequent Alterations, produce an infinite Variety in particular Passions: To which diversity of Constitutions, if that variety of Objects be added, which cause very different Impressions upon those who follow not the same Employments and manner of Life, it will plainly appear, that such a Person, who is lively touched by some Things in one Place of his Soul, may be absolutely insensible as to many others; so that we should commonly mistake, should we always judge of the Commotions of others by what we feel in our selves.

I am not afraid of being deceiv'd, when I assert, That all Men would be happy; for I fully and certainly know, that Chinese and Tartars, Angels and Devils, in a word, all Spirits whatsoever, have an Inclination for Felicity: Nay, I know that God shall never produce any Spirit without that Desire. I never saw either Chinese or Tartar; so that I never learn'd it from Experience, nor yet from my inward Consciousness, which only teaches me that I would my self be happy. God alone can inwardly convince me, that all other Men, Angels, and Devils, desire Happiness; and he only can assure me, that he will never create a Spirit that shall not care for Felicity: For who else can positively assure me of what he does, and even thinks? And as he cannot deceive me, so I may safely relie on what I learn from him: And therefore I am certain that all Men would be happy, because that Inclination is natural, and independent on the Body.

It goes quite otherwise with particular Passions: For, because I love Musick, Dancing, Hunting, Sweet-meats, high-season'd Dishes, &c. I cannot certainly conclude that other Men have the same Passions. Pleasure is doubtless sweet and grateful to Men; but all find it not in the same Things. The Love of Pleasure is a Natural Inclination, not depending upon the Body, and therefore general to all Men: But the Love of Musick, Hunting, or Dancing, is not general, because the Disposition of the Body from which it proceeds being different in several Persons, the Passions they produce are not always the same.

General Passions, as Desire, Joy, and Sorrow, are the Mean betwixt natural Inclinations and particular Passions. They are general, as well as Inclinations; but they are not always of the same strength; because the Cause which produces and feeds them is not always equally active. There is an infinite Variety in the Degrees of Agitation of the Animal Spirits, in their Plenty and Scarcity, in their Solidity and Fineness, and in the Relation betwixt the Fibres of the Brain and those Spirits.

And therefore it often happens, that we touch not Men in any part of their Soul, when we treat of particular Passions; but if they chance to be touched, they are violently moved. On the contrary, the mentioning of general Passions and Inclinations never fail to affect us, but so weakly and faintly, that we are scarce sensible of it. I mention this, lest any should judge of what I say by his own Commotions, that he either has, or shall receive from my Discourse; but rather that he should judge of it by considering the Nature of the Passions I speak of.

Should we purpose to handle all the particular Passions, and distinguish them by the Objects that raise them, it is plain, the Task would be endless, and we should only repeat the same thing: The former, because the Objects of the Passions are infinite; the latter, because we should be constantly engag'd in the same Subject. The particular Passions for Poetry, History, Mathematicks, Hunting, Dancing, are but one general Passion: For, for example, the Passions of Desire or Joy for whatever pleases, are not different Passions, though delightful Objects in particular differ much.

And therefore the Number of Passions must not be multiplied by the Number of Objects, which [Page] are infinite; but only by the principal Relations they may have to us: And so it will appear, as we shall explain it hereafter, that Love and Hatred are the Mother-Passions, which produce no other general Passions, besides Desire, Joy, and Sorrow: that the particular Passions are made up only of those Three primitive, and more or less compounded, according to the number of accessary Ideas, that attend the principal Idea of the Good or Evil, which has rais'd them, or as the Good and Evil are more or less circumstantiated with reference to us.

If we remember what has been said of the Connection of Ideas, and that in all great Passions the Animal Spirits being extreamly agitated, stir up in the Brain all the Traces any ways related to the moving Object; we shall own, that there is an infinite Variety of different Passions, which have no particular Names, and cannot be explain'd but by saying they are inexplicable.

If the primitive Passions, of the Complication of which others are made up, were not susceptible of more or less, it would not be difficult to determine the Number of all the Passions; but that number of complicated Passions must needs be infinite, because one and the same Passion having infinite Degrees, may by its Conjunction with others be infinitely complicated; so that there were perhaps never two Men affected with the same Passion, if by that Name be understood an even Mixture and Likeness of all the Motions and Sensations that are occasionally rais'd in us upon the presence of some Object.

But as more or less do not alter the Species, so it may be said, that the Number of Passions is not infinite; because the Circumstances that attend Good or Evil, which excite the Passions, are not innumerable. But let us explain our Passions in particular.

When we see any thing the first time, or when having seen it several times accompanied with some Circumstances, we see it again attended with others, we are surprized, and admire it. Thus a new Idea, or a new Connection of old Ideas, raises in us an Imperfect Passion, which is the first of all, and nam'd Admiration. I call it imperfect, because 'tis not excited either by the Idea or Sense of Good: The Brain being then struck in some unusual Places, or in a new manner, the Soul is sensibly moved, and therefore must needs strongly apply her self to what is new in that Object; for the same Reason that a bare Tickling the Soale of the Feet raises a very lively and moving Sensation in the Soul, rather by the Novelty than by the Strength of the Impression.

There are other Reasons of the Application of the Soul to new Things; but I have explain'd them, where I speak of the Natural Inclinations. Here we consider the Soul only as related to the Body, in which respect the Commotion of the Spirits is the natural Cause of her Application to new Things.

In Admiration, strictly taken, we consider things only as they are in themselves, or as they appear, and look not on them as related to us, or as good or bad. Hence it comes, that the Spirits disperse not through the Muscles to give the Body the Disposition that is required for persuing Good, or shunning Evil; and shake not the Nerves that go to the Heart and other Viscera, to hasten or retard the Fermentation or Motion of the Blood, as it happens in other Passions. All the Spirits go the Brain, to print a lively and distinct Image of the surprizing Object, that the Soul may consider and know it again; whilst the rest of the Body remains in the same posture, and as unmovable: For as there is no Commotion in the Soul, so there is no Motion in the Body.

When the admired Things appear great, Admiration is always follow'd with Esteem, and sometimes with Veneration; whereas it is always accompanied with Contempt, and sometimes with Disdain, when they appear little.

The Idea of Grandeur causes a great Motion of the Spirits in the Brain, and the Tracks that represent it are kept very long: And likewise a great Motion of the Spirits raises in the Soul an Idea of Greatness, and powerfully fixes the Mind on the Consideration of that Idea.

On the contrary, the Idea of Littleness produces but an inconsiderable Motion of Spirits in the Brain, and the Traces representing it are soon blotted out: And likewise a small Motion of Spirits raises in the Soul an Idea of Meanness, and stays the Mind but little on the Consideration of that Idea. Those things deserve to be taken notice of.

When we consider our selves, or something united to us, our Admiration is always accompanied with some moving Passion, which however only agitates the Soul and the Spirits, that go to the Heart; because there being no Good to seek, nor Evil to avoid, the Spirits disperse not themselves through the Muscles, to dispose the Body to some Action.

The Contemplation of the Perfection of our Being, or of something belonging to it, naturally produces Pride, or Self-esteem, Contempt of others, Joy, and some other Passions. The Contemplation of our own Grandeur, causes Haughtiness; that of our Strength, Valour, or Boldness; and that of any other Advantage naturally raises some other Passion, which is still a kind of Pride.

On the contrary, the Con [...]ideration of some Imperfection of our Being, or of something belonging to it, naturally produces Humility, Contempt of our selves, Reverence for others, Sorrow, and some other Passions. The [...]ight of our Littleness causes Pusilanimity; that of our Weakness, Timidity▪ and that of any Disadvantage whatsoever, naturally raises some other Passion, which is still a kind of Humility. But neither that Humility, nor that Pride, are properly Vertues or Vices; being only Passions or involuntary Commotions, which yet are very useful to Civil Society, and even in some Cases absolutely necessary for the preservation of the Life or Goods of those that are actuated by them.

'Tis necessary, for instance, to be humble and timorous, and even outwardly to testifie that Disposition of the Mind, by a modest Look, and respectful or timorous Deportment, when we are in the Presence of a Person of Quality, or one that is proud and powerful: It being almost ever profitable [Page] for the Good of the Body, that the Imagination should stoop before sensible Grandeur, and give it outward Marks of its inward Submission and Veneration. But this is done naturally and machinally, without the Consent of the Will, and sometimes notwithstanding its Opposition. Even such Beasts, as Dogs, which stand in need of prevailing upon those with whom they live, have ordinarily their Bodies so disposed, that it machinally takes the Posture that is most suitable, in reference to those that are about them: For that is absolutely necessary to their Preservation. And if Birds, and some other Creatures, want such a Disposition, 'tis because they need not asswage the Fury of those whom they can escape by Flight, or whose Help is not necessary for the Preservation of their Life.

It can never be too much observ'd, that all the Passions which are raised in us, at the sight of something external, machinally spread on the Face those Looks that are fit and suited to our present State; that is, those that are apt by their Impression machinally to dispose the Spectators to such Passions and Motions as are useful for the Good of Civil Society. Admiration it self, when produced in us by the Perception of something external, which others can consider as well as we, puts the Face in such a Shape as is fit to strike others with a machinal Impression of Admiration; and which acts so regularly on the Brain, that the Spirits contain'd in it are driven to the Muscles of the Face, to fashion it into a Look altogether like our own.

This Communication of the Passions of the Soul and the Animal Spirits, to unite Men together, in reference to Good and Evil, and to make them altogether like, not only by the Disposition of their Mind, but also by the Posture of their Body, is so much the greater and more observable, as the Passions are more violent; by reason that the Animal Spirits are then agitated with more strength. And this must needs be so, because the Good and Evil being then greater, or more present, requires a greater Application, and a stricter Association of Men to seek or avoid them. But when the Passions are moderate, as Admiration usually is, their Communication is insensible; and they do not alter the Countenance, by which the Communication uses to be wrought: For there being no urgent Occasion, it would be needless to put a Force on the Imagination of others, or to take them off from their Business, to which their Application is perhaps more requisite, than to the looking on the Causes of those Passions.

There is nothing more wonderful, than that Oeconomy of the Passions and Dispositions of the Body, in reference to the surrounding Objects. All our machinal Actions are most becoming the Wisdom of our Maker. God has made us susceptible of all those Passions chiefly to unite us with all sensible Things, for the Preservation of Society, and of our corporeal Being; and his Design is so exactly perform'd by the Construction of his Work, that we cannot but admire his Wisdom in the Contrivance of the Springs and Texture of it.

However, our Passions, and all those imperceptible Bands which tie us to the surrounding Objects, often prove, by our own Fault, fruitful Causes of Errours and Disorders. For we make not of our Passions the Use we ought to do; we allow them every thing, and know not so much as the Bounds we ought to prescribe to their Power; so that the weakest and least moving Passions, as Admiration for instance, have strength enough to draw us into Errour. Some Examples whereof are these.

When Men, and especially those that are endu'd with a lively Imagination, contemplate the best side of themselves, they find for the most part a great deal of Self-complacency and Satisfaction; and their internal Satisfaction is increased by the Comparison they make betwixt themselves and others that are not so airy and spirituous: Besides that they have many Admirers, and that few of their Opposers gain Success and Applause; for Reason is seldom or never applauded, in opposition to a strong and lively Imagination. In short, the Face of their Hearers takes on such submissive and dutiful Looks, and expresses, at every new Word they say, such lively Strokes of Admiration, that they admire themselves too; and that their Imagination, pufft up with their pretended Advantages, fills them with an extraordinary Satisfaction of themselves. And since we cannot see Men in the heighth of a Passion, without receiving some impression from it, and adopting, as I may say, their Sentiments; how should it be possible that those who are surrounded with a Throng of Admirers, should give no access to a Passion that is so flattering and so grateful to Self-love?

Now that high Esteem which Persons of a strong and lively Imagination have of themselves and their good Qualities, puffs them up with Pride, and gives them a Magisterial and Decisive Comportment; they listen to others, but with Contempt; they answer, but with Jeering; they think, but with reference to themselves; and as they look on the Attention of the Mind, that is so requisite for the discovery of Truth, as a Slavery; so they are altogether indocible. Pride, Ignorance, and Blindness, go hand in hand. The bold, or rather vain-glorious Wits, will not be the Disciples of Truth, and never retire into themselves, unless it be to contemplate and admire their supposed Perfections; so that he who resists the Proud, shines in the middle of their Darkness, without dissipating it.

There is, on the contrary, a certain Disposition of the Blood and Animal Spirits, that occasions too mean Thoughts of our selves. The Scarcity, the Dulness, and Fineness of the Animal Spirits, join'd to the Coursness of the Fibres of the Brain, cause the Imagination to be weak and languishing: And the Contemplation, or rather the confused Sense of that Faintness of Imagination, is what breeds in us a vicious Humility, which we may call Meanness of Spirit.

All Men are susceptible of the Truth, but all apply not themselves to him who alone is able to teach it. The Proud make their Address and listen but to themselves; and the Dis-spirited [Page] make their Application to the Proud, and submit themselves to their Determinations. Both the one and the other give ear to bare Men. Proud Minds follow the Fermentation of their own Blood, that is, their own Imagination; and the Low-spirited are over-sway'd by the over-ruling Countenance of the Proud, and so are both subjected to Vanity and Lies. The Proud is like a rich and powerful Man, who has a great Retinue, who measures his own Greatness by the number of his Attendants, and his Strength by that of the Horses of his Coach: whereas the Low-spirited is like a poor, weak, and languishing Wretch, who though he have the same Spirit and Principles, yet because he is Master of Nothing, imagines he is almost Nothing himself. However, our Retinue is not our self, and so far is the plenty of the Blood and Animal Spirits, the vigour and impetuousness of the Imagination, from leading us to the Truth, that on the contrary nothing carries us so far from it; whereas 'tis the Dull, if I may so call them, that is, the cool and sedate Minds, that are the fittest for the Discovery of solid and hidden Truths. Their Passions being silent and quiet, they may listen in the Recess of their Reason to the Truth that teaches them; but most unhappily they mind not its Words, because it speaks low, without a forcible sound, and that nothing wakens them but a mighty Noise. Nothing convinces them but what glitters to appearance, and is judg'd great and magnificent by the Senses; they love to be dazled with Brightness, and rather chuse to hear those Philosophers, who tell them their Stories and Dreams, and assert, as the false Prophets of former times, that the Truth has spoken to them (though it has not) than to listen to Truth it self. For they have already suffer'd four thousand Years, and that without opposition, humane Pride to entertain them with Lies, which they reverence and keep to, as to Holy and Divine Traditions. It seems the God of Truth is wholly gone from them; they think on him and consult him no more, they meditate no more, and cover their neglect and laziness, with the delusive pretences of a sacred Humility.

'Tis true, that we cannot of our selves discover the Truth; but we can doe it at all times with the assistance of him that enlightens us, and can never doe it with that of all the Men in the World. Those that know it best cannot shew it to us, unless we ask it of him, to whom they have made their Application; and unless he be pleased to answer our Questions, that is, our Attention, as he has done theirs. We are not therefore to believe, because Men say this or that, for every Man is a Liar; but because he that cannot deceive speaks to us, and we must perpetually interrogate him for the solution of our Difficuties. We ought not to trust to them that speak only to the Ears; instruct but the Body, or at the utmost move but the Imagination. But we ought attentively to listen unto, and faithfully believe him who speaks to the Mind, informs the Reason, and piercing into the most abstruse Recesses of the inward Man, is able to enlighten and strengthen him, against the outward and sensible Man, that continually labours to seduce and corrupt him. I often repeat these things, because I believe them most worthy of a serious Consideration. God alone is to be honour'd, because he only can endue us with Knowledge, as 'tis he alone that can fill us with Pleasure.

There is sometimes in the animal Spirits, and the rest of the Body, a Disposition that provokes to Hunting, Dancing, Running, and other Corporeal Exercises, wherein the Force and Activity of the Body are most conspicuous: Which Disposition is very ordinary to young Men, especially before their Body be in a State of Consistency. Children cannot stay in one place, and will always be moving, if they follow their humour. For whereas all their Muscles are not yet strengthened, nor perfectly finisht; therefore God, who as the Author of Nature, regulates the Pleasures of the Soul, with reference to the Good of the Body, causes them to be delighted with such Exercises as may invigorate it. Thus whilst the Flesh and Fibres of their Nerves are yet soft, the Channels through which the animal Spirits must necessarily flow, to produce all sorts of Motion, are wore, and kept open, Humours have no time to settle, and all Obstructions and Causes of Corruption are removed.

The confused Sensation that young Men have of that Disposition of their Body, makes them pleased with the thoughts of their Strength and Dexterity. They admire themselves when they know how to measure their Motions, and to make extraordinary ones, and are ambitious of being in the presence of Spectators and Admirers. Thus they strengthen by degrees their Inclination to Corporeal Exercises, which is one of the principal Causes of Ignorance and Brutishness. For besides the time that is by that meanes lavisht away, the little use they make of their Understanding, causes the chief part of the Brain, in whose tractableness the force and quickness of the Mind especially consists, to become altogether inflexible, and the animal Spirits, through disuse, are difficultly dispers'd in the Brain, in a manner requisite to think of what they please.

This incapacitates most part of the Nobility and Gentry, especially such as follow the War, to apply themselves to any thing. They answer with a Word and a Blow, as the Proverb says; for if you speak any thing that they don't willingly hear, instead of thinking upon a suitable Reply, their Animal Spirits insensibly flow into the Muscles that raise the Arm, and make them answer without Consideration, with a Blow, or a Threatning Gesture; because their Spirits, agitated by the Words they hear, are conveyed to such Places, as are most open through Habit and Exercise. The sense of their Corporeal Strength confirms them in those insulting Manners; and the submissive Aspect of their Hearers puffs 'em up with such an absurd Confidence, as makes them believe they have said very fine things, when they have but haughtily and brutishly uttered Impertinencies; being flater'd by the Fear and Caution of the Standers by.

It is not possible to have applied our selves to any Study, or to make actual profession of any Science, to be either Author or Doctor, without being conscious of it. But that very Consciousness [Page] naturally produces in some Men such a vast Number of Imperfections, that it would be better with them if they wanted those Honourable Qualities. As they look upon them as their most considerable Perfections, so they are extreamly pleased with that Contemplation; they set them before the Eyes of others with all the possible Dexterity, and conceive they have thereby right to judge of every thing without Examination. If any be so couragious as to contradict them, they at first endeavour skillfully, and with a sweet and obliging Countenance, to insinuate what they are, and what right they have to determine of such Matters: And if any still presume to oppose them, and that they be at a loss for an Answer, they do not stick openly to declare what they think of themselves and of their Adversaries.

Every inward Sense of any Qualification we enjoy, naturally swells up the Courage. A Trooper well mounted and accoutred, who neither wants Blood nor Spirits, is ready to undertake any thing; that Disposition inspiring him with an undaunted Boldness. So it goes with a Man of Letters; when he fansies himself to be Learned, and that the Haughtiness of his Heart has corrupted his Mind, he becomes, if I may so speak, bold and fierce against Truth. Sometimes he rashly impungs it without knowing it, at other times he consciously betrays it; and relying upon his imaginary Learning, is always ready to assert, either the Affirmative or Negative, according as he is possessed with a Spirit of Contradiction.

It goes quite otherwise with those that make no Ostentation of Learning: they are not positive; neither do they speak, unless they have something to say; and it even often happens that they remain silent when they should speak. They have neither that Fame, nor those outward Characters of Learning, which spur Men on to speak without Knowledge, and so may decently hold their Peace: but the Pretenders are afraid to make a stop, since they are sensible they shall be despis'd for their Silence, even when they have nothing to say; and that they are not always in danger of falling into Contempt, though they speak but Impertinencies, provided they utter them with a Scientifick Confidence.

What makes Men capable of thinking, enables them to know the Truth; but neither Honours, Riches, University-Degrees, nor Chimerical Erudition, makes them capable of thinking. It's their own Nature, for they are made to think, because they are created for the Truth. Even bodily Health qualifies them not for thinking well, but only is a less Hinderance than Sickness. Our Body assists us in some manner in perceiving by Sense, and imagining; but not at all in conceiving. For though without its Help we cannot attentively meditate, nor oppose the continual Impression of the Senses and Passions, which endeavour to perplex and obliterate our Ideas, because in this present State, we cannot overcome the Body, but by the Body; yet 'tis plain that the Body cannot illuminate the Mind, nor produce in it the Light of Understanding, since every Idea that discovers the Truth proceeds from Truth it self. All that the Soul receives from the Body relates only to it, and when she follows those Glimpses, she sees nothing but Phantasms and Dreams; that is to say, she sees not things as they are in themselves, but only as they have relation to her Body.

As the Idea of our own Greatness or Littleness is a frequent occasion of Errour, so likewise the Ideas of outward things that have refference to us, make no less dangerous an Impression. We have already observ'd that the Idea of Greatness is always attended with a great Motion of Spirits, and a great Motion of the Spirits is ever accompanied with the Idea of Greatness: and that on the contrary, that of Littleness is always followed with a small Motion of Spirits, which is in its turn accompanied with the Idea of Meanness. From that Principle 'tis easy to infer, that such things as produce in us great Motions of Spirits, must naturally appear greater, stronger, and more real and perfect than others; for in the word Greatness I comprehend all those Qualifications, and such like. So that sensible Good must needs seem to us more considerable and solid, than that which cannot be felt; if we judge of it by the Motion of the Spirits, and not by the pure Idea of Truth. A great House, a sumptuous Retinue, a fine Furniture, Offices, Honour, Riches, will then appear to us to have more greatness and reality in them than Justice and other Vertues.

When we compare Vertue to Riches by the pure Eyes of the Mind, we prefer Vertue: but if we make use of our Corporeal Eyes and Imagination, and judge of those things by the Motion of the Spirits, which they raise in us, we shall doubtless chuse Riches rather than Vertue.

'Tis from the same Principle that we imagine that spiritual and insensible things are almost nothing; that the Ideas of our Mind are less noble than the Objects they represent; that there is less reality and substance in the Air than in Metalls, and in Water than in Ice; that those vast Spaces that reach from the Earth to the Firmament, are empty, or that the Bodies that fill them have not so much reality and solidity, as the Sun and Stars. In short, our reasoning upon that false Principle induces us into an infinite number of Errours, concerning the Nature and Perfection of every thing.

A great Motion of Spirits, and by consequence a strong Passion, always attending the sensible Idea of Grandeur, and a small Motion, and consequently a weak Passion, still accompanying the sensible Idea of Meanness; we are very attentive to, and bestow a great deal of our time on the study of such things as raise the sensible Idea of Grandeur; whereas we neglect those which afford but the sensible Idea of Meanness. Those great Bodies, for instance, which make their Circumvotions over our Heads, have ever made a great Impression upon Men, who at first ador'd them, because of their Light and Brightness, or sensible Idea of Grandeur; some bolder Wits presum'd to examine their Motions: so that the Stars have been in all Ages the Object, either of the Study, or of the Veneration of the greatest part of Mankind. It may even be said, that the fear of their Phantastick [Page] Influences, which still fright Astrologers and weak Persons, is a sort of Adoration, paid by a Brain-sick Imagination, to the Idea of Greatness that represents Celestial Bodies.

But the Body of Man, on the contrary, that is infinitely more admirable, and deserves more our Application, than whatever we can know of Saturn, Jupiter, and other Planets, has remained a long time almost unknown. The sensible Idea of dissected parts of Flesh, having nothing great, but being rather distastful and noisome; it is but a few years since Men of Parts have looked upon Anatomy, as a Science that deserved their study. There have been Princes and Kings that boasted of being Astronomers; the height and magnitude of the Stars seem'd to suit their Dignity and Grandeur: but I know not of any that were ever ambitious of knowing Anatomy, and skilfully dissecting a Heart, or a Brain. The same may be said of several other Sciences.

Rare and extraordinary things incite in Mens Minds greater and more sensible Motions, than such as are seen every day; we admire them, and by a natural Consequence we fix on them an Idea of Greatness, that is followed with Passions of Esteem and Reverence. This perverts the Reason of several Persons, who are so very respectful and curious of all the Remains of Antiquity, and whatever comes from far, or is rare and extraordinary, that they are as Slaves to them; because the Mind dares not sit and pronounce upon the Objects of its Veneration.

I grant Truth is in no great danger, because some Men are taken up with the Medals, Arms and Habits of the Ancients, or with the Dress of the Chinese and Savages. It is not altogether unserviceable, to know the Map of Ancient Rome, nor the ways from Tomquin to Nanquin, though it be more useful to us to know those from London to Oxford, or from Paris to St. Germain or Versailles. In short, we cannot find fault with those that will enquire into the History of the Wars betwixt the Greeks and Persians, betwixt the Tartars and Chinese; let them have for Thucydides, Xenophon, or any other whatsoever, as much Inclinations as they please. But we cannot suffer that Admiration of Antiquity should lord it over Reason; that it should be forbidden to make use of our Understanding in examining the Opinions of the Ancients, and that the Discovery and Demonstration of their Errours should pass for a rash and presumptuous Attempt.

Truth is of all Times and Ages. If Aristotle did discover it, it may still be found out: his Opinions are to be proved by strong Reasons; for if they were solid in his time, they will be so in ours. 'Tis to deceive our selves, to pretend to demonstrate natural Truths by humane Authorities. It may perhaps be proved, that Aristotle has had such and such Thoughts, upon such and such Subjects; but 'tis a very slender improvement of Reason, to read Aristotle, or any other Author, with great Diligence and Trouble, that we may historically learn his Opinions, and teach them to others.

We cannot without Indignation look on some Universities that were established for the Enquiry and Defence of Truth, and are now turned into particular Sects, and boast of studying and maintaining the Opinions of some Men. We are ready to fall into Passion at the reading of those Philosophers and Physicians, who store their Books with so many Quotations, that one would rather take them for Commentaries of the Civil and Cannon Law, than for Tracts of Natural Philosophy and Physick. For who can suffer that Reason and Experience should be deserted, and the Fancies of Plato, Aristotle, Epi [...]urus, or any other Philosopher, blindly followed.

Such strange methods would perhaps strike us dumb with Amazement, though we were not hurt by them; I mean, though these Gentlemen did not impung the Truth, which alone we think our selves obliged to espouse: But their admiring the Dreams of the Ancients inspires them with a blind Zeal against Truths newly discovered; they cry them down without knowing them; they oppose them without understanding them, and by the strength of their Imagination infuse their Sentiments into the Minds and Hearts of their Auditors and Admirers.

As they judge of those new Discoveries by the Esteem they have for their Authors, and that their Contemporaries which they have seen and convers'd with, have not that big and extraordinary Appearance, which the Imagination attributes to Ancient Authors; so they have no Consideration for the Modern. For the Idea of the Men of our Age raises nothing but Contempt, because it is not attended with violent and surprizing Motions.

Limners and Statuaries never represent Ancient Philosophers as other Men, but give them a big Head, and a broad and high Fore-head, and a long and venerable Beard. That's a good Argument to prove that the Vulgar Sort has some such Idea of them; for Painters picture things as they represent them to themselves, and follow the Natural Motions of the Imagination; and so for the most part we look on the Ancients as Uncommon Men. Whereas Imagination representing Men of our Age like to those with whom we daily converce, and producing no extraordinary Motion in the Spirits, raises nothing in the Soul but Contempt and Indifferency towards them.

I have seen Des-Crates, said one of those learned Admirers of Antiquity, I have known him, and conversed with him several times; he was an honest Man, and no Fool, but had nothing extraordinary. He had form'd a contemptible Idea of the Cartesian Philosophy, because he had conversed with the Author some minutes, and had not observed in him those great and extraordinary Looks that oversway the Imagination. If he were puzzled with some Arguments of that Philosopher, he proudly said, meaning it a sufficient Answer, That he had known him formerly. I could wish those Gentlemen might see Aristotle otherwise than in Picture, and converse an hour with him, provided he should speak French, or English, and not Greek, and not make himself known, before they had declar'd their Opinion of him.

Such things as bear the Character of Novelty, whether they be new in themselves, or appear in a new Order or Situation, agitate us very much, striking the Brain in places that are most sensible, [Page] because least exposed to the Course of the Spirits. Such things as bear a sensible Mark of Greatness, do also strangely move us, because they stir up a great Motion of the Spirits. But such as at once come attended with Characters of Novelty and Greatness, do not simply move us: they overthrow, ravish, stupifie us by their violent Commotions.

For Instance, Those who speak nothing but Paradoxes attract the Admiration of weak Minds, because what they say has the Character of Novelty: those that speak by Sentences, and use high and lofty Flights, inspire Veneration, because they seem to say something great. But those that joyn Loftiness to Novelty, and Greatness to Rarity, never fail of ravishing and stupifying the Vulgar Sort, though they should speak but Impertinences; for that pompous and stately Nonsence, insani fulgores, those false Declamatory Glitterings for the most part dazle the Eyes of infirm Minds, and make such a lively and surprizing Impression upon their Imagination, that they know not where they are, that they venerate the Power that blinds 'em, and cast 'em down, and admire, as shining Truths, confused and unexpressible Sensations.

CHAP. VIII.

A Continuation of the same Subject; What good Vse can be made of Admiration, and other Passions.

ALL Passions have two very considerable Effects, for they apply the Mind, and win the Heart: by the former they may, by a due use, be made serviceable to the Knowledge of Truth; because Application produces that light by which it is discovered: but the latter Effect is always disadvantageous; because Passions cannot win the Heart, but by corrupting the Reason; and representing things, not as they are in themselves, or according to Truth, but as they are related to us.

Admiration is, of all Passions, that which least affects the Heart; because 'tis the Sight of things consider'd as Good or Evil, that agitates us, and that the Consideration of their Greatness or Smallness, without any other Relation to us, makes but little Impression upon us: so that the Admiration that attends the Knowledge of the Greatness or Littleness of new things, we consider, corrupts the Reason much less than any other Passion; and can even be of great use for the Knowledge of Truth, provided we be very careful to hinder its being followed by other Passions, as it happens for the most part.

In Admiration the Animal Spirits are strongly driven to those places of the Brain, that represent the new Object as it is in it self; which print thereon Traces of it, distinct and deep enough to be long continued, and consequently afford to the Mind a clear Idea, and easie to be remembred; and therefore it cannot be denied, but Admiration may be very useful to Sciences, since it applies and enlightens the Mind; whereas other Passions apply the Mind, but enlighten it not. They apply it, because they raise the Animal Spirits, but enlighten it not, or enlighten it with false and deceiving Glimpses, because they drive those Spirits in such a manner, as that they represent Objects, only as they are related to us, and not as they are in themselves.

There is nothing harder, than to apply our selves a considerable time to any thing which we admire not: because the Vital Spirits are not then easily carried to places fitted to represent them. In vain we are exhorted to be attentive; we can have no Attention, or none sufficiently long, though we may have an abstracted, but not moving Persuasion, That the thing deserves our Application. We must needs deceive our Imagination to quicken our Spirits, and represent to our selves in a new Manner, the Subject on which we will meditate, that we may raise in us some Motion of Admiration.

We meet every day with Men that relish not Study, and find nothing so painful as the Application of Mind: They are convinced that they ought to study certain Matters, and to doe their utmost endeavours for it; but their endeavours are, for the most part, vain; their progress is inconsiderable, and quickly follow'd by weariness. True it is that the Animal Spirits obey the order of the Will, and make us attentive, when we desire it, but when the Commanding Will is the Will of mere Reason, that is not kept up by some Passion, it is so weak and languishing, that our Ideas are like wandering Phantasms, that afford us but a transient glimpse, and vanish in a moment. Our Animal Spirits receive so many private Orders from the Passions, and are become by nature and habit so prone to perform them, that they are easily turn'd from those new and rough ways, through which the Will endeavours to lead them. So that it is especially in such Cases, that we need a particular Grace to know the Truth, since we cannot any considerable time bear up the Mind against the incumbent weight of the Body; or if we can, yet we never doe all we are able.

But when some Motion of Admiration quickens us, the animal Spirits naturally run to the Tracks of the Object which have raised it, represent it clearly to the Mind, and produce in the Brain whatever is requir'd to Perspicuity and Evidence, without putting the will to the trouble of managing the rebellious Spirits. Hence it comes that those that are prone to Admiration, are fitter to study than others; are quick and ingenious, and others slow and dull.

In the mean while, when Admiration grows to such an Excess, as to produce Amazement and Stupefaction, or when it does not excite to rational Curiosity, it may prove of very ill Consequence [Page] because the animal Spirits are then taken up with representing the admired Object by one of its Faces, without so much as thinking on the others, which ought no less to be Considered. Those Spirits likewise supersede their spreading through all the parts of the Body for the performance of their ordinary Functions, whilst they imprint such deep Traces of the Object, and break so great a number of the Fibres of the Brain, that that Idea raised by them can never be blotted out of the Mind.

It is not enough that Admiration should make us attentive, unless it makes us curious; neither is it suficient for the full knowledge of an Object, to consider one of its Faces, unless we be so far inquisitive, as to examine them all; that we may judge of it upon sure grounds. And therefore when Admiration moves us not to examine things with the utmost Accuracy, but instead of that stops our Enquiry, it is very unprofitable to the Knowledge of Truth, because it fills up the Mind with likelihoods and probabilities, and incites us to judge rashly and precipitately of all things.

Admiration must not center in its self, but its business is to facilitate Examination. The Animal Spirits that are naturally excited in Admiration, offer themselves to the Soul, that she may use them to represent the Object more distinctly to her self, and to know it better. This is Nature's Institution, for Admiration ought to move us to Curiosity, and Curiosity to conduct us to the Knowledge of Truth: But the Soul knows not how to make an Advantage of her own Strength; she prefers a certain satisfactory Sensation, that she receives from the plenty of the Spirits that affect her, before the Knowledge of the Object that has raised them; and she chuses rather to be conscious of her own Riches than to dissipate them by use; not much unlike those Misers who chuse rather to hoard up their Treasures, than to supply their wants with them.

Men are generally pleased with whatever raises any kind of Passion. They not only spend Money to be moved to Sorrow, by the Representation of a Tragedy, but they also throw it away upon Legerdemains, that may stir up their Admiration; since it cannot be said that they give it to be deceived. Therefore that inward and satisfactory Sensation, which we are conscious of in Admiration, is the principal cause why we dwell upon it, without putting it to the use which Nature and Reason prescribe to us. For that delectable Sensation so powerfully holds the Admirers Bent to the admired Object, that they will fall into a Passion, if any shew them its Vanity. A mourning Person relishes so well the sweetness of Sorrow, that he's angry with those that go about to make him merry. The case is the same with Admirers; who seem to be wounded by the Endeavours that are made to demonstrate the unreasonableness of their Admiration, because they feel that the secret Pleasure they receive from that Passion, diminishes proportionably as the Idea that caused it vanishes from the Mind.

The Passions perpetually labour to justifie themselves, and insensibly persuade us we doe well to be led by them. The Satisfaction and Pleasure, with which they affect the Mind, that is to be their Judge, draws it over by degrees to their side, inspiring it with such, and the like Reasons. ‘We are to judge of things but according to our Ideas, but of all Ideas the most sensible are the most real, since they act upon us with the greatest force, and therefore 'tis by those Ideas that I must judge of them. Now the Subject I admire contains a sensible Idea of Greatness, I must then judge of it by that Idea, for I ought to esteem and love Greatness; and therefore I am in the right when I insist upon, and am taken up with that Object. And indeed the Pleasure which the Contemplation of its Idea affords me is a natural proof that it is for my good to think upon it; since I seem to add to my growth by such thoughts, and fancy that my Mind is more enlarged by embracing so great an Idea; whereas the Mind ceases to exist when it thinks upon nothing. Should that Idea vanish, my Mind, it seems, should vanish with it, or at least become smaller and narrower, if it should fix upon a less considerable Idea; so that the preservation of that great Idea, being the preservation of my own Greatness, and the perfection of my Being, I am in the right to admire; nay others ought to admire me for it, should they give me my due. For I am really something great, by the Relation I have to great things, and I enjoy them in some manner by my Admiration, and that Foretast which a sort of Hope affords me. Other Men would be Happy, as well as I am my self, if, knowing my Greatness, they should fix themselves upon the Cause that produces it; but they are blind and insensible to great and fine things, and know not how to raise and make themselves considerable.’

It may be said, That the Mind naturally, and without Reflection, argues in some such manner, when it it suffers it self to be led away by the abusive Meteors of the Passions: Those Reasonings have some Likelihood, though their Weakness be sufficiently visible; however, that Probability, or rather the confused Sense of the Probobility that attends natural and inconsiderate Arguments, is so prevalent, that they never fail of seducing us, when we stand not upon our guard.

For Instance, When Poetry, History, Chymistry, or any other Humane Science has struck the Imagination of a young Man with some Motions of Admiration, if he do not carefully watch the Attempt these Motions make upon his Mind, if he examine not to the bottom the Use of those Sciences, if he compare not the Trouble of learning them with the Benefits that may accrue to him; in short, if he be not as nice in his Judgment as he ought to be, he runs the hazard of being seduced by his Admiration, shewing him only the fairest Part of those Sciences; and 'tis even to be feared, lest they should so far corrupt his Heart, as that he should never awake out of his Dream, even when he comes to know it to be but a Dream; because it is not possible to blot out of the Brain deep Tracks, engraven and widened by a long-continued Admiration. And therefore we ought to take diligent care to keep our Imagination untainted; that is to say, to hinder the [Page] formation of dangerous Traces, that corrupt the Heart and Mind. I shall here set down a very useful Way to prevent not only the Excess of Admiration, but also of all other Passions in general.

When the Motion of the Animal Spirits is so violent, as to imprint on the Brain deep Traces that corrupt the Imagination, it is always attended with some Commotion of the Soul: And as the Soul cannot be moved without being conscious of it, she is thereby sufficiently warn'd to stand upon her guard, and to examine whether it be for her good to suffer those Traces to be enlarged and finished. But at the time of the Commotion, the Mind is not so free, as rightly to judge of the Usefulness of those Traces, because the same Commotion deceives and inclines it to indulge them: We must therefore endeavour to stop that Commotion, or to turn to some other Place the Current of the Spirits that cause it; and in the mean while 'tis absolutely necessary to suspend our Judgment.

But we ought not to imagine that the Soul always can, by her bare Will, stop the Course of the Spirits that hinder her from making use of her Reason; her ordinary Power being not sufficient to quell Motions not raised by her; so that she must dexterously endeavour to deceive an Enemy that attacks her unawares.

As the Motions of the Spirits stir up respective Thoughts in the Soul, so our Thoughts excite such and such Motions in the Brain; so that to stop a rising Motion of the Spirits, a bare Will is not sufficient, but Stratagem must be us'd; and we must skilfully represent to our selves such Things as are contrary to those that stir up and indulge that Motion, whence a Revulsion will arise: But if we would only determine another way the Motion of the Spirits already risen, we must not think of contrary but only different Things from those that have produced it, which will certainly make a Diversion.

But because the Diversion and Revulsion are great or little, as the new Thoughts are accompanied with a greater or less Motion of the Spirits; we must carefully observe, what sort of Thoughts agitate us most, that we may in urging Occasions represent them to our seducing Imagination, and use our selves so much to that sort of Resistance, that no surprizing Motion may affect our Soul.

If we take care firmly to unite the Idea of Eternity, or some other solid Thought, to those violent and extraordinary Motions, they will never be stirr'd up for the future, without raising that Idea, and furnishing us with Weapons to resist them. This appears from Experience, and from the Reason mention'd in the Chapter Of the Connection of Ideas Book 2. Part 2. Chap. 3.; so that we must not imagine it absolutely impossible, by a dexterous Managery, to conquer our Passions, when we are stedfastly resolv'd upon it.

However, by that Resistance we ought not to pretend to Impeccability, nor to the avoiding of all Errours whatsoever.

First, Because 'tis very difficult to acquire and preserve such a Habit, as that our extraordinary Motions shall raise in us Ideas fit to oppose them.

Secondly, Though we should have gotten that Habit, those Motions of the Spirits will directly excite the Ideas to be impugned, and but indirectly supply us with the necessary Weapons to assault them: So that the Evil Ideas, being still the principal, will be stronger than the Good, that are but accessary; and the latter ever stand in need of the Help of the Will.

Thirdly, Those Motions of the Spirits may be so violent, as to take up the whole Capacity of the Soul; so that there will remain no room, if I may so speak, for the reception of the accessary Idea, that is proper to make a Revulsion in the Spirits; or not at least for such a Reception as may incite us to an attentive Contemplation of it.

Lastly, There are so many particular Circumstances, that can make that Remedy useless, that though it ought not to be neglected, yet we must not relie too much upon it. We must have a perpetual Recourse to Prayer, that we may receive from Heaven necessary Helps in the time of Temptation; and in the mean while endeavour to present to the Mind some Truths so solid and prevalent, as that they may overcome the most violent Passions. For I must needs add by the way, That several pious Persons often return into the same Faults, because they fill their Mind with a great many Truths that are more glittering than solid, and fitter to weaken and dissolve, than to fortifie it against Temptations; whereas others, that are not endued with so much Knowledge, faithfully stick to their Duty, because of some great and solid Truth, which they have rendred familiar, and which bears 'em up and strengthens them in all Occasions.

CHAP. IX.

Of Love and Aversion, and their principal Species.

LOve and Hatred are the Passions that immediately succeed Admiration; for we dwell not long upon the Consideration of an Object, without discovering the Relations it hath to us, or to something we love. The Object we love, and to which consequently we are united by that Passion, being for the most part present, as well as that which we actually admire; our Mind quickly, and without any considerable Reflection, makes the necessary Comparisons, to find out the Relations they have to each other, and to us; or else is naturally aware of them, by a preventing Sense of Pleasure and Pain. Then it is, that the Motion of Love we have for our selves, and [Page] for the beloved Object, extends to that which is admired; if the Relation it has immediately to us, or to something united to us, appear advantageous, either by Knowledge or Sensation. Now that new Motion of the Soul, (or rather that Motion of the Soul newly determin'd, join'd to that of the Animal Spirits, and followed with the Sensation that attends the new Disposition, that the same new Motion of the Spirits produces in the Brain) is the Passion we call here Love.

But when we feel by any Pain, or discover by a clear and evident Knowledge, that the Union or Relation of the admired Object would prove disserviceable to us, or to something united to us, then the Motion of the Love we have for our selves, or for the Thing united to us, terminates in us, or cleaves to the united Object, without following the View of the Mind, or being carried to the admired Thing. But as the Motion towards Good in general, which the Author of Nature continually imprints on the Soul, carries her to whatever is known and felt, because what is either intelligible or sensible is Good in it self; so it may be said, that the Resistance of the Soul against that natural Motion which attracts it, is a kind of voluntary Motion, which terminates in Nothingness. Now that voluntary Lest any should mistake what I call here voluntary Motion, I desire him to read the first Illustration on the first Chapter. It would intricate my Conceptio [...]s should I say whatever relates to it, to satisfie the Nicety of some Persons. Motion of the Soul being join'd to that of the Spirits and Blood, and followed by the Sensation that attends the new Disposition, which that Motion of the Spirits produces in the Brain, is the Passion we call here Aversion or Hatred.

That Passion is altogether contrary to Love, and yet 'tis never without Love: It is altogether contrary to it, because Aversion separates, and Love unites; the former has most commonly Nothingness for its Object; and the latter has always a Being: The former resists the natural Motion, and makes it of no effect; whereas the latter yields to it, and makes it victorious. However, Aversion is never separated from Love, because Evil, the Object of the former, is the Privation of Good; so that to fly from Evil, is to fly from the Privation of Good; that is to say, to tend to Good: And therefore the Aversion of the Privation of Good, is the Love of Good. But if Evil be taken for Pain, the Aversion of Pain is not the Aversion of the Privation of Pleasure; because Pain is as real a Sensation as Pleasure, and therefore is not the Privation of it: But the Aversion of Pain, being the Aversion of some internal Misery, we should not be affected with that Passion, should we not love our selves. Lastly, If Evil be taken for what causes Pain in us, or for whatever deprives us of Good, then Aversion depends on Self-love, or on the Love of something to which we desire to be united: So that Love and Aversion are two Mother-Passions, opposite to each other; but Love is the First, the Chief, and the most Universal.

As at that great Distance and Estrangement we are from God since the Fall, we look upon our Being as the Chief Part of the Things to which we are united; so it may be said in some sense, that our Motion of Love for any thing whatsoever, is an Effect of Self-love. We love Honours, because they raise us; our Riches, because they maintain and preserve us; our Relations, Prince, and Country, because we are concern'd in their Preservation. Our Motion of Self-love reaches to all the Things that relate to us, and to which we are united; because 'tis that Motion which unites us to them, and spreads our Being, if I may so speak, on those that surround us, proportionably as we discover by Reason, or by Sensation, that it is our Interest to be united to them.

And therefore we ought not to think, that, since the Fall, Self-Love is only the Cause and Rule of all other Affections; but, that most part of other Affections are Species of Self-love: For when we say, that a Man loves any new Object, we must not suppose that a new Motion of Love is produc'd in him; but rather, that knowing that Object to have some Relation or Union with him, he loves himself in that Object, and that with a Motion of Love coeval to himself. For indeed without Grace there is nothing but Self-love in the Heart of Man: The Love of Truth, of Justice, of God himself, and every other Love that is in us, by the first Institution of Nature, have ever since the Fall been a Sacrifice to Self-love.

There is no doubt, however, but the most wicked and barbarous Men, Idolaters and Atheists themselves, are united to God by a natural Love, of which consequently Self-love is not the Cause; for they are united to him by their Love to Truth, Justice, and Vertue; they praise and esteem good Men, and do not love them because they are Men, but because they see in them such Qualities as they cannot forbear to love, because they cannot forbear to admire and judge them amiable. And therefore we love something besides our selves; but Self-love over-rules all the rest, and Men forsake Truth and Justice for the smallest Concerns: For when by their natural Force they venture their Goods and Lives to defend oppress'd Innocence, or on any other Occasion, their greatest Spur is mere Vanity, and the hopes of getting a Name by the seeming Possession of a Vertue which is reverenc'd by all the World. They love Truth and Justice when on their side, but never against themselves; because without Grace they cannot obtain the least Victory over Self-love.

There are many other sorts of natural Love: We naturally love our Prince, Country, Relations, those that have any Conformity of Humour, Designs, and Employments with us: But all those sorts of Love are very weak, as well as the Love of Truth and Justice; and Self-love being the most violent of all, conquers them so easily, as to find no other Resistance but what it creates against it self.

Bodies that strike against others, lose their Motion proportionably as they communicate it to the stricken; and, after having moved many other Bodies, may at last entirely lose their own Motion. It is not so with Self-love: It determines every other Love by its Impressions upon it, [Page] and its own Motion diminishes not; on the contrary, it gets new Strength by its new Victories: For as that Motion never goes out of the Heart, so it cannot be lost, though it be continually communicated.

Self-love is therefore the Ruling and Universal Love, since it is to be found, and bears the sway every where; so that all the Passions having no proper Motion of their own, it may be said, that Self-love is the most extensive and powerful of all Passions, or the Ruling and Universal Passion. And as all Vertues are but Species of that first Vertue we call Charity, according to St. Austin; so all Vices and Passions are but as so many Effects and Sorts of Self-love, or of that general Vice we call Concupiscence.

We often distinguish in Morals the Vertues or Species of Charity, by the Difference of Objects; but that sometimes confounds the true Idea we ought to have of Vertue, which rather depends on its own Motive, than any thing else: And therefore we shall not follow that Method in treating of the Passions, nor distinguish them by the Objects; because one and the same Object may excite them all, and that ten thousand Objects may raise but one. For though Objects differ from each other, yet they differ not always in relation to us, nor do they stir up in us different Passions. The promis'd Staff of a Mareschal of France differs from a Bishop's Crosier, or Pastoral Staff promis'd; yet those two Marks of Honour excite almost the same Passion in the Ambitious, since they raise in the Mind of both the same Idea of Good. But the same Mareschal's Staff, when promised, granted, enjoyed, taken away, stirs up Passions altogether different, because it raises in the Mind different Ideas of Good.

We must not then multiply the Passions by their different Objects that cause them; but only admit as many as there are accessary Ideas that attend the chief Idea of Good or Evil, and considerably alter it in relation to us. For the general Idea of Good, or the Sensation of Pleasure, which is good to him that enjoys it, agitating the Soul and Animal Spirits, produces the general Passion of Love; and the accessary Ideas of that Good determine that general Agitation of Love, and Course of the Spirits in such a particular manner, as puts the Mind and Body in a convenient Disposition in relation to the perceived Good: And thus they produce all the particular Passions.

And therefore the general Idea of Good produces an indeterminate Love, which is but an Extension of Self-love. The Idea of Good, as possess'd, produces a Love of Joy: The Idea of Good, not as possess'd, but hop'd for, that is, as judg'd possible to be possess'd, produces a Love of Desire: And lastly, The Idea of any Good, that is neither possess'd nor hop'd for; or, which is the same, the Love of any Good which we cannot hope to enjoy without losing some other, or which we cannot preserve when we are possess'd of it, produces a Love of Sorrow. Those are the Three simple and primitive Passions that have Good for their Object; for the Hope that produces Joy, is not a Commotion of the Soul, but a simple Judgment.

However, we must observe, That Men confine not their own being within themselves, but extend it to all Things and Persons, to whom they believe it their Advantage to unite themselves: So that we must conceive that they are possess'd in some manner of a Good, when enjoy'd by their Friends, though they do not possess it immediately themselves: And therefore when I say, That the Possession of Good produces Joy, I understand it not only of an immediate Possession or Union, but also of any other; for we naturally feel a Joy upon the Success or good Fortune of those we love,

Evil, as I said, can be taken Three ways; for the Privation of Good, for Pain, and for the Thing that causes the Privation of Good, or produces Pain.

In the first sense, the Idea of Evil being the same with the Idea of a Good not enjoy'd, it is plain that Idea produces Sorrow, or Desire, or even Joy; for Joy is always excited from that we find our selves exempt of the Privation of Good, that is to say, when we possess Good: So that those Passions that refer to Evil, taken in that sense, are the same as those that relate to Good, because at the Bottom they have likewise Good for their Object.

When Evil signifies Pain, which alone is always a real Evil to him that suffers it, whilst he suffers it; then the Sense of that Evil produces those Passions of Sorrow, Desire, and Joy, that are Species of Aversion, and not of Love; because their Motion is altogether opposite to that which accompanies the Perception of Good, that Motion being but the Resistance of the Soul against the natural Impression.

The Actual Sense of Pain produces an Aversion of Sorrow. The Pain we suffer not, but are afraid to suffer, produces an Aversion of Desire. And lastly, the Pain we neither suffer, nor are afraid to suffer; or, what is the same, the Pain that shall be attended by a considerable Reward, or the Pain from which we are freed, produces an Aversion of Joy. Those are the Three simple or primitive Passions that have Evil for their Object; for the Fear that produces Sorrow, is not a Commotion of the Soul, but a bare Judgment.

Lastly, If by Evil we understand the Person or the Thing that deprives us of Good, or causes us to endure Pain, the Idea of Evil produces a Motion of Love and Aversion together, or only a Motion of Aversion: The former, when the Evil is that which deprives us of Good; for by the same Motion we tend towards Good, and fly from that which hinders its Possession: And the latter, when 'tis the Idea of an Evil which causes Pain in us; for 'tis by the same Motion of Aversion that we hate Pain, and whatever produces it.

And therefore there are Three simple or primitive Passions that relate to Good, and as many that refer to Pain, or to that which causes it, viz. Joy, Desire, and Sorrow. For we are joyful [Page] when Good is present, and Evil is past; we are sorrowful when Good is gone, and Pain is present; and we are agitated with Desires when Good and Evil are to come.

Those Passions that relate to Good are particular Determinations of that Motion God gives us for Good in general, and therefore have a real Object; but others, who have not God for the Cause of their Motion, terminate only in Nothingness.

CHAP. X.

Of Passions in particular; and in general of the way to explain them, and to know the Errours they cause.

WHen we consider how Passions are formed, it visibly appears, that their Number is undeterminable, or that there are more than we have Terms to express them by. For Passions differ not only by the various Complication of the Three first Primitive, which would not encrease them to a great Number; but also differ by the different Perceptions and Judgments that cause or accompany them. Those different Judgments of the Soul, concerning Good or Evil, produce different Motions in the Animal Spirits, to dispose the Body in relation to the Object, and consequently cause in the Soul Sensations that are not altogether like: Whence it proceeds, that some Passions are observ'd to differ from each other, though their Commotions be not different.

In the mean while, the Commotion of the Soul being the chief Thing observable in every Passion, 'tis better to refer them to the Three original Passions, in which those Commotions are very different, than to treat confusedly and disorderly of them, in reference to the different Perceptions we may have of the Good and Evil that raises them. For we may have so many different Perceptions of Objects, in reference to Time, to our selves, to what belongs to us, to the Persons or Things to which we are united, either by Nature or Choice, that it is wholly impossible to make an accurate Enumeration of them▪

When the Soul perceives any Good which she cannot enjoy, it may perhaps be said, that she hopes for it, though she desires it not: However, 'tis plain, that this her Hope is not a Passion, but a simple Judgment. And therefore 'tis the Commotion that attends the Idea of any Good, of which we take the Enjoyment to be possible, that adopts Hope into a true Passion. It is the same when Hope grows into Security: For the latter is a Passion, only because of the Commotion of Joy that mixes with that of Desire; since the Judgment of the Soul that considers any Good as certain, is a Passion but as much as it is a foregoing Taste of the Good that affects us. Last of all, When Hope diminishes, and is succeeded by Despair, 'tis visible again, that the latter is a Passion but because of the Commotion of Sorrow that mixes with that of Desire; for the Judgment of the Soul, that considers any Good as unattainable, would not be a Passion, should we not be actuated by that Judgment.

But because the Soul never looks upon Good or Evil without any Commotion, and even without any Alteration in the Body, we often give the Name of Passion to the Judgment that produces it, confounding together whatever happens both to the Soul and Body at the sight of any Good or Evil: For the Words, Hope, Fear, Boldness, Shame, Impudence, Anger, Pity, Derision, Grief, and the Names of all other Passions in common use, are short Expressions made up of several Terms, by which can be explain'd in particular whatever Passions contain.

We understand by the Word Passion the View of the Relation any thing has to us, the Commotion and Sensation of the Soul, the Concussion of the Brain, and the Motion of the Spirits, a new Commotion and Sensation of the Soul; and lastly, a Sensation of Pleasure that always attends the Passions, and makes them grateful. All these we commonly understand by the Name of Passions; but sometimes it only signifies either the Judgment that raises it, or only the Commotion of the Soul, or the bare Motion of the Spirits and Blood, or lastly, something else that accompanies the Commotion of the Soul.

It is very useful, for the Knowledge of Truth, to abridge Ideas and Expressions; but that often causes some considerable Errour, especially when those Ideas are abridg'd by popular Use: For we ought never to abridge them, but when we have made them very clear and distinct, by a great Application of Mind; and not, as 'tis ordinarily done, as to Passions and sensible Things, when we have made them familiar to us by their Sensations, and the mere Action of the Imagination, which easily imposes on the Mind.

There is a great difference betwixt the pure Ideas of the Mind, and the Sensations or Commotions of the Soul. Pure Ideas are clear and distinct, but 'tis a hard Task to make them familiar; whereas Sensations and Commotions are intimate with us, but can never plainly and distinctly be known. Numbers, Extension, and their Properties, may be clearly known; but unless we make them sensible by some expressive Characters, 'tis very difficult to represent them to our Mind, because whatever is abstracted moves us not. On the contrary, the Commotions and Sensations of the Soul may easily be represented to the Mind, though the Knowledge we have of them be but confused and imperfect; for all the Words that raise them, lively strike the Soul, and make it attentive. Thence it proceeds, that we often imagine we rightly understand some Discourses that are altogether incomprehensible; and that reading some Descriptions of the Sensations [Page] and Passions of the Soul, we persuade our selves that we perfectly comprehend them; because they strongly move us, and that all the Words that reverberate upon our Eyes agitate our Soul. The hearing of the very Names of Shame, Despair, Impudence, &c. straightway excite in our Mind a confused Idea, and obscure Sensation, that powerfully influences us; and because this Sensation is very familiar to us, and presents it self without any Trouble or Endeavour of the Mind, we fancy it to be clear and distinct. These Words, however, are the Names of compounded Passions, and by consequence abridg'd Expressions, which popular Use has made up of many confused and obscure Ideas.

Seeing we are oblig'd to employ such Terms as common Use has approv'd of, the Reader should not be surpriz'd to meet with Obscurity, and sometimes with a sort of Contradiction in our Words. And if it were but consider'd that the Sensations and Commotions of the Soul, that answer to the Terms us'd in such Discourses, are not wholly the same in all Men, because of their different Dispositions of Mind, they would not so easily condemn us, when they could not enter into our Opinions. This I say, not so much to prevent Objections against my self, as that we may understand the Nature of the Passions, and what we are to think of Books treating of such Matters.

After so many Cautions, I shall not stick to say, that all the Passions may be referr'd to the three Primitive, namely, Desire, Joy and Sorrow; and that it is specially by the different Judgments the Soul makes of Goods and Evils, that such as relate to the same Primitive Passion differ from each other.

For Instance, I may say that Hope, Fear, and Irresolution, that is the Mean betwixt them both, are Species of Desire: That Boldness, Courage and Emulation, &c. have a greater Relation to Hope, than to all others; and that Timidity, Cowardise, Jealousie, &c. are Species of Fear.

I may say, that Alacrity and Glory, Kindness and Gratefulness, are Species of Joy, caused by the Sight of the Good that we know to be in us, or in those to whom we are united; as Derision or Jeering is a sort of Joy, commonly arising at the Sight of the Evil that befalls those from whom we are separated. Lastly, That Distaste, Tediousness, Regret, Pity, Indignation, are so many kinds of Sorrow, caused by the Consideration of something displeasing.

But besides those Passions, and several others I pass by, which particularly relate to some of the Primitive Passions, there are yet many others, whose Commotion is almost equally compounded, either of Desire and Joy, as Impudence, Anger and Revenge; or of Desire and Sorrow, as Shame, Regret and Vexation; or of all Three together, when Motives of Joy and Sorrow meet. And though these last Passions have no particular Names that I know of, they are however the most common; because in this Life we scarce ever enjoy any Good without a Mixture of Evil, nor suffer any Evil without Hopes of being freed of it, and enjoying Good. And though Joy be altogether contrary to Sorrow, yet it allows of its Company, and even admits it an equal Sharer in the Capacity of the Soul as Volent, when the Sight of Good and Evil divide its Capacity as Intelligent.

All the Passions therefore are Species of Desire, Joy and Sorrow; and the chief difference betwixt those of the same sort must be taken from the different Perceptions or Judgments that cause or accompany them. So that to become learned in the Nature of Passions, and to make of them the most accurate Enumeration possible, it is requisite to enquire into the different Judgments that may be made of Good and Evil. But as we especially intend to find out the Cause of our Errours, we need not so much to insist upon the Judgments that precede or cause the Passions, as upon those that follow them, and which the Soul makes of Things when she is agitated by some Passion, because those last Judgments are the most liable to Errour.

Such Judgments as precede and cause the Passions, are almost ever false in something, because they are, for the most part, grounded upon such Perceptions of the Soul as consider Objects in relation to her, and not as they are in themselves. But the Judgments that follow the Passions are false all manner of ways; because such Judgments being only made by the Passions, are only grounded upon the Perceptions the Soul has of Objects as relating to her, or rather to her own Commotion.

In the Judgments that precede the Passions, Truth and Falshood are join'd together; but when the Soul is agitated, and judges by every Inspiration of the Passion, Truth vanishes, and Falshood remains to be the Principle of so many more false Conclusions as the Passion is greater.

All Passions justifie themselves, continually offering to the Soul the moving Object, in the fittest way for preserving and increasing her Commotion. The Judgment, or the Perception that causes it, gets still new Forces from the Increase of the Passion, and the Passion likewise augments proportionably as the Judgment that produces it, in its turn, is strengthen'd.

Thus false Judgments and Passions join in Confederacy, for their mutual Preservation. And should the Heart never cease sending up Spirits for keeping open the Tracks of the Brain, and supplying the Expences, which that violent Sensation or Commotion make of the same Spirits, Passions would perpetually increase, and never allow us to be sensible of our Errours. But as all our Passions depend on the Fermentation and Circulation of the Blood, and that the Heart can never furnish as many Spirits as are necessary for their Preservation, they must needs expire when the Spirits diminish, and the Blood grows cool again.

Though it be an easie matter to discover the ordinary Judgments of Passions, yet 'tis not a thing to be neglected; there being few Subjects that deserve more the Application of an Enquirer after Truth, who endeavours to free himself from the Dominion of the Body, and will judge of every thing by true Ideas.

We may instruct our selves in this Matter two ways, either by pure Reason, or by our inward Consciousness, when we are agitated by some Passion. For Instance, Experience teaches us, [Page] That we are apt to judge of those we love not, to their Disadvantage, and to spit all the Venom of our Hatred at the Object of our Passion. We also know by Reason, that as we cannot hate but what is Evil; so 'tis necessary for the preservation of Hatred, that the Mind should represent to it self the worst part of its Object. For 'tis sufficient to suppose that all Passions justifie themselves, and give such a Disposition, first to the Imagination, then to the Mind, as is fit to preserve their own Commotion, directly to conclude what are the Judgments which all the Passions cause us to make.

Those that are endued with a strong and lively Imagination, that are extremely sensible, and much subject to the Motions of Passions, may perfectly inform themselves of those things by their own inward sense; and it often comes to pass, that they speak of them in a more pleasing and instructing manner than others, whose Reason over-tops their Imagination: yet it follows not, that those that discover best the Springs of Self-love, that penetrate farthest into Man's Heart, and more sensibly discover its Recesses, are always the greatest Understandings. This only proves that they are livelier, quicker of Imagination, and sometimes more malicious than others.

But those that without consulting their inward Sense, make use only of their Reason to enquire into the Nature and Effects of Passions; though they be not always so quick-sighted as others, are always more rational, and less obnoxious to Errour; because they judge of things as they are in themselves: They see very near what Men posse [...]t with Passions can doe, as they suppose them more or less agitated; but do not rashly judge of the Actions of others, by what they would doe themselves in such Occasions; for they well know, that Men are not equally sensible to the same things, nor alike susceptible of involuntary Commotions, and therefore 'tis not by consulting our Sensations which the Passions create in us, but by listening to Reason, that we must treat of the Judgments that accompany them; lest we should draw our own Picture, instead of discovering the Nature of Passions in general.

CHAP. XI.

That all the Passions justifie themselves. What Judgments they cause us to make in their Vindication.

WE need no long deduction of Arguments to demonstrate, That all Passions justifie themselves: That Principle is sufficiently evident, both by our internal Consciousness of our selves, and the Behaviour of those we see agitated by them; and therefore we need only barely propound it, to consider it as we should do. The Mind is such a Slave to the Imagination, that it always obeys when the Imagination is over-heated; and dares not answer when the same is incensed, because it meets with Abuses when it resists, and is always rewarded with some Pleasure when it humours that imperious Faculty. Even those whose unruly Imagination persuades them they are transmuted into Beasts, find out Reasons to prove they must live as Beasts do, walk Four-footed, eat Grass, and imitate every Action that is purely Brutal. They find Pleasure in living by the Impressions of their Passion, and suffer inward Pain in resisting it; which is sufficient to make Reason, that commonly descends to be the Slave to Pleasure, to argue in such a manner as may best defend the Cause of it.

If therefore it be true that all Passions justifie themselves, 'tis evident that Desire must of it self move us to judge favourably of its Object, if it be a Desire of Love, and unkindly if it be a Desire of Aversion. The Desire of Love is a Motion of the Soul raised by the Spirits, that provoke it to the Enjoyment or Use of such things as are not in its power; for we desire even the Continuation of our Enjoyment, because future things depend not on us. 'Tis then necessary for the Justification of that Desire, that the Object which produces it be esteemed good in it self, or in reference to something else: the contrary must be said of that Desire, which is a kind of Aversion.

I grant, we cannot judge any thing to be good or bad, without some Reason; but Passions have no Object which is not good in some sense. And if it may be said there are some, which contain no real Goodness, and therefore cannot be contemplated as Good by the Mind; yet no one can say but they may be enjoyed as Good, since they are supposed to agitate us; and that Commotion, Enjoyment, or Sense is more than sufficient to move the Soul to entertain a kind Opinion of the Object.

If we so easily judge that Fire contains in it self the Heat we feel, and Bread the Savour we relish, because of the Sensation those Bodies excite in us; though that be never so incomprensible to the Mind, which cannot conceive Heat and Savour as Modifications of a Body: thence it follows, That there is no Object of our Passions, how vile and contemptible soever it appears, but we may judge it good, when the Enjoyment of it affects us with pleasure. For as we imagine that Heat goes out of Fire when we feel it, so we blindly believe, that the Objects of the Passions cause the pleasure which we receive in their Enjoyment, and that therefore they are good, since they are able to doe us good. The like may be said of the Passions that have Evil for their Object.

But, as I said just before, there is nothing but deserves either Love or Aversion, either by it self, or by something else to which it relates; and when we are agitated with some Passion, we quickly discover in its Object the Good or Evil that may nourish the same. It is therefore easie to know by Reason the Judgments which our Passions make, whilst agitating us.

[Page]For, if a Desire of Love move us, we may well conceive that it will not fail to justifie it self, by the favourable Judgments it shall make of its Object. We easily perceive that those Judgments will have more Extent, as the Desire shall be more violent; and that they will be sometimes absolute and without exception, though but a very small part of the thing appears good. We may without difficulty understand that those favourable Judgments will reach all things, that shall have, or seem to have, any Connection with the principal Object of the Passion, proportionably to the strength of the Passion, and the Extent of the Imagination. The contrary will happen if it be a Desire of A [...]version, the Reasons of which are as easily comprehended, and perfectly confirmed and made good by Experience. But let us make these Truths more sensible and familiar by some Instances.

Men naturally desire Knowledge, because all Minds are created for Truth. But that Desire, how just and reasonable soever it may be in it self, often becomes a dangerous Vice, by the false Judgments that attend it; Curiosity frequently offers to the Mind vain Objects of its Study and Lucubrations, ascribes to them false Ideas of Greatness, ennobles them with the deceiving Lustre of Rarity, and dresses them up with such gay and splendid Apparel, that one can hardly forbear to Contemplate them with too much Pleasure and Application.

There is no Trifle but will wholly take up some Persons, whose fruitless Toil is still justified by the false Judgments that arise from their vain Curiosity. For instance, those that bestow their time in Learning Tongues, imagine that all the Sciences consist in the Knowledge of Terms, and find out a Thousand Reasons to justifie themselves; and the Veneration those pay them whom an unknown Term confounds, is none of the weakest, though the least reasonable.

Some Persons employ their whole lives in learning to speak, who ought perhaps to hold their Peace all the while; since 'tis evident he ought to be silent, who has nothing worth the hearing to say. But 'tis not that which they propose from their Learning. They should know that he must think well, use his Understanding to exactness, discern Truth from Falshood, clear Ideas from obscure, those of the Mind from those of the Imagination, that will speak accurately. They imagine themselves fine and uncommon Wits, because they know how to please the Ear with an Elegant Harmony, how to flatter the Passions by Figures and [...]aking Gestures; how to rejoyce the Imagination by lively and sensible Expressions; whilst they leave the Mind empty of Ideas, void of Light and Understanding.

Some probable reason may justifie their Passion, that spend a great deal of time in the study of their own Tongue, since they make use of it all their Life; but as to those who indifferently apply themselves to all sorts of Languages, I know not what to say in their behalf. The Passion of those who make a complete Library of all sorts of Dictionaries, may be excusable, as well as the Curiosity of those, who make a collection of Coins and Medals of all Countries and Times; that may be useful in some occasions, and if it doe them not much good, at least it does them no harm; a Store-house of such Curiosities being not cumber [...]ome, since they carry not with them either their Books or Medals. But how may the Passion of those be justifiable, that make their Head a Library of Dictionaries, that neglect their Affairs and Essential Duties for words of no use. They are smatterers in their own Tongue, frequently mingling strange and unknown words in their Discourses, and never paying their Countreymen with Current Money. Their Reason seems not to be better guided than their Tongue; for all the Corners and Recesses of their Memory are so full of Etymologies, that their Minds must lie as stifl'd under the innumerable number of words that are perpetually flying about it.

However, it must be granted that Philologers and Linguists will not stick for Reasons to justifie their capricious Studies. Which to know, you need but to listen to the Judgments those pretenders to Science make of Tongues; or suppose some Opinions, that are taken amongst them for undoubted Axioms, together with the Inferences that may be deduc'd from them. For instance, that those Persons who speak several Tongues, are as many individual Men as they know different Languages, since Speech distinguishes us from Beasts; that the Ignorance of Tongues deprives us of a multitude of things, since Ancient Philosophers and Strangers are more Learned then we. Suppose but these and the like Principles and Conclusions, and you'll quickly form such Judgments as are fit to beget the Passion for Tongues, and consequently like those, wherewith the same Passion inspires the Linguists to vindicate their Studies.

There is not a Science so abject and contemptible, but some part of it will shine very bright to the Imagination, and dazle the Mind, when Passion heightens those false Glimpses. That Splendour, I own, vanishes when the Blood and Spirits cool, and the Light of Truth begins to shine; but that Light disappears also, when the Imagination grows warm again, and leaves but some transitory Shadows of those solid Reasons which pretended to condemn our Passion.

Farthermore, when the Passion that agitates us finds it self a dying, it repents not of its demeanour, but on the contrary it disposes all things, either to an honourable Funeral, or to be reviv'd spedily again; that is to say, it always prepares the Mind to frame Judgments in its Vindication. In this condition it makes a sort of Alliance with such other Passions as may keep it up in its weakness, supply it with Spirits and Blood, in its necessity; raise it out of its Ashes, and give it a new Birth. For Passions are not unconcern'd for one another, and those that can live together, faithfully contribute to their mutual preservation. So that all the Passions that are not contrary to the Studies of Tongues, or of any thing else, do continually sollicite and fully confirm those Judgments that are made to vindicate it.

A Pretender to Learning imagines himself, now as surrounded with respectfull Hearers, then as Conquerour of those whom he has amaz'd with his unintelligible words; and almost always as one rais'd far above the common sort of Men. He flatters himself with the Commendations he receives, with the Preferments that are proposed to him, with the Courtship that is made to him. [Page] He's of all Times and Countries: He is not limited, as vulgar Wits, to the present, nor confin'd within the Walls of his Town; but is continually communicating himself abroad, and his Communication makes his Delight. See how many Passions combine together to manage the Cause of pretended Learning, how hotly they prosecute their Judgments, and bribe the Mind in its favour.

Should every Passion act separately, without caring for the rest, they would vanish immediately after their Rise, not being able to make a sufficient number of false Judgments to maintain themselves, and defend the Glimmerings of Imagination against the Light of Reason: But all Passions concur admirably well to their mutual Preservation, assisting and strengthning each other, though never so remote, provided they be not declared Enemies, as though they were minded to follow the Rules of a well-order'd State.

If the Passion of Desire were alone, all the Judgments it might pass would only amount to represent the Good as attainable: For the Desire of Love, consider'd as such, is produced by the Judgments we make, that it is possible to enjoy such a Good: And so this Desire could only form Judgments about the Possibility of enjoying it; since the Judgments which follow and preserve the Passions, are exactly like those which precede and produce them. But that Desire is animated by Love, fortified by Hope, increased by Joy, renewed by Fear, attended by Courage, Emulation, Anger, Irresolution, and several other Passions, that form each in their turn a great variety of Judgments, which succeed each other, and maintain the Desire that has produced them. 'Tis not therefore strange that the desire of a mere Trifle, or of a Thing that is evidently hurtful or fruitless, should however justifie it self against Reason for many Years, nay, during the whole Life of a Man that is agitated with it, since so many other Passions endeavour to vindicate it. I shall here set down in few Words how Passions justifie themselves, that I may explain Things by distinct Ideas.

Every Passion agitates the Blood and Spirits, which, when agitated, are driven into the Brain by the sensible Sight of the Object, or the Strength of the Imagination, in such a manner as is fit to imprint deep Tracks representing that Object. They bend, and even sometimes break by their impetuous Course the Fibres of the Brain, and thereby leave the Imagination soil'd and corrupted. For these Traces obey not the Commands of Reason, nor will they be blotted out when it pleases; on the contrary, they put a Force upon it, and oblige it incessantly to consider Objects in such a manner as moves and inclines it to favour the Passions. Thus the Passions act upon the Imagination, and the corrupted Imagination makes an Effort against Reason, by continually representing Things not as they are in themselves, that the Mind might pronounce a true Judgment; but as they are in reference to the present Passion, that it might pass a favourable Sentence in its behalf.

The Passions not only bribe the Imagination and Mind in their favour, but produce in other Parts of the Body such Dispositions as are necessary to preserve them. The Spirits they move, stop not in the Brain, but run, as I have elsewhere shewn, to all other Parts of the Body, especially to the Heart, the Liver, the Spleen, and the Nerves that surround the principal Arteries; and lastly, to all Parts whatsoever, that may supply necessary Spirits for the maintenance of the predominant Passion. But while these Spirits disperse themselves into all the Parts of the Body, they destroy all along, and by degrees, whatever might hinder their Course, and make their Passages so slippery and smooth, that a very inconsiderable Object exceedingly moves us, and consequently inclines us to make such Judgments as favour the Passions: Thus it comes to pass, that they establish and justifie themselves.

If we consider how various the Constitution of the Fibres of the Brain, and withal the Commotion and Quantity of the Spirits and Blood may be, in the different Sexes and Ages, we shall easily and nearly conjecture to what Passions some Persons are most subject, and consequently, what Judgments they pass upon Objects. For instance, we may make a very near Guess, by the plenty or want of Spirits that is observable in some People, the same Thing being proposed and explained to them in the same manner, that some of them will make Judgments of Hope and Joy, whilst others shall pass such Judgments as proceed from Fear and Sorrow.

For those that abound with Blood and Spirits, as young Men, cholerick Persons, and those that are of a Sanguine Complexion use to doe, being very susceptible of Hope, because of the secret Sense of their Strength, will not believe that they shall meet with any Opposition to their Designs, which they may not overcome; and so will quickly feed themselves with a borrowed Taste of the Good they hope to enjoy, and will pass such Judgments as are fit to justifie their Hope and Joy. But those that want agitated Spirits, as Old Men, and those that are of a Phlegmatick and Melancholy Temper, being inclined to Fear and Sorrow, because their Soul is conscious of her own Weakness, and destitute of Spirits to perform her Orders, will make quite contrary Judgments, imagine insuperable Difficulties to justifie their Fear, and give up themselves to Envy, Sorrow, Despair, and other sorts of Aversion, of which weak Persons are most susceptible.

CHAP. XII.

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That such Passions as have Evil for their Object, are the most Dangerous and Vnjust: And that those that have the least Mixture of Knowledge, are the most lively and sensible.

OF all the Passions the several sorts of Aversions make their Judgments the most remote from Reason, and the most dangerous; there being no Passion which corrupts and bribes Reason so much in its behalf, as Hatred and Fear; Hatred chiefly in the Cholerick, or in those whose Spirits are in a perpetual agitation; and Fear in the Melancholy, or those whose gross and heavy Spirits are neither easily moved, nor soon quieted. But when [...]atred and Fear conspire together to bribe Reason, which is very frequently done, then there are no Judgments so unjust and capricious, but they will pass and defend them with an insuperable Obstinacy.

The Reason of this is, That as in this Life Evil strikes the Soul more to the quick, than Good; so the Sense of Pain is livelier than that of Pleasure: Injuries and Scandals more sensibly affect us, than Commendations and Applause; and though there are Men indifferent as to the enjoying some Pleasures, and receiving certain Honours; yet there is scarce one that can bear Pain and Contempt without Uneasiness.

And therefore Hatred, Fear, and other sorts of Aversion, that have Evil for their Object, are most violent Passions, which shake the Mind with such unexpected Commotions, as discompose and stupifie it, and quickly pierce into the bottom of the Heart, dethrone Reason, and pass upon all sorts of Subjects erroneous and unjust Sentences, to favour their tyrannical Madness.

Of all Passions they are the most cruel and distrustful, contrary to Charity and Civil Society, and at the same time the most ridiculous and extravagant, since they give such impertinent and frantick Judgments, as excite the Laughter and Indignation of all other Men.

Those Passions inspired the Pharisees with these absurd Discourses: What are we doing? This Man works many Miracles: Joh. 11.47. If we let him alone, all Men will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our City and Nation. They agreed that our Saviour had wrought many Miracles; for the Resurrection of Lazarus was undeniable: But what were the Judgments of their Passions? To murther both JESUS and Lazarus whom he had raised from the Dead! Why JESUS? Because, say they, if we let him alone, all Men will believe in him, and the Romans shall come and extirpate our Nation. Joh. 12.11. And why Lazarus? Because that, by reason of him, many of the Jews went away, and believed on Jesus. Oh Judgments equally Cruel and Irrational! Cruel, through Hatred; and Irrational, through Fear: The Romans shall come, and destroy our City and Nation.

The same Passions moved a great Assembly, consisting of Annas the High-Priest, Caiaphas, John, Alexander, and as many as were of the Kindred of the High-Priest, to speak thus: What shall we doe with these Men? Act. 4.16, 17. For that, indeed, a notable Miracle hath been done by them, is manifest to all them that dwell in Jerusalem, and we cannot deny it. But lest it should spread farther, let us threaten to punish them severely, if they preach the Name of JESUS any more.

All those great Men, agitated by their Passions, and blinded by their false Zeal, pass Judgment both impertinent and unjust. They dare not punish the Apostles, because of the People, and that the Man who had been miraculously cured was above Forty Years of Age, and present in the Assembly; but threaten them, lest they should [...]each in the Name of Jesus; supposing they ought to condemn the Doctrine,Act. 5.28. because they put the Author to death: You intend, say they, to bring this Man's Blood upon us.

When false Zeal unites it self to Hatred, it shelters it from the Reproofs of Reason, and justifies it so well, that we scruple not to be led by its Motions. When Ignorance and Weakness accompany Fear, they extend it to innumerable Subjects, and drive on its Commotions to that heighth, that the least Suspicion disturbs and frightens Reason.

False Zealots imagine they serve God, when they obey their Passions: They blindly follow the secret Motions of their Hatred, as Inspirations from internal Truth; and insisting with great satisfaction on the Proofs of Sense that justifie that Excess, their Errours become confirmed with an unconquerable Stubbornness.

As to ignorant and weak Persons, they create to themselves Matter of ridiculous and fantastick Fears; like Children that walk in the dark without a Guide and Light, fansie frightful Bugbears, are distur'd and cry out as though they were undone. Knowledge retrieves them if they be ignorant; but if they be weak, their Imagination continues crazed, and the least thing that relates to that frightful Object, renews the Tracks, and opens the Current of the Spirits, which cause the Symptoms of their Fear: So that it is altogether impossible to cure or pacifie them for ever.

But when false Zeal meets with Hatred and Fear in a weak Mind, it incessantly produces such unjust and violent Judgments, as cannot be thought upon without Horrour▪ To change a Mind possest with those Passions, requires a greater Miracle than that which converted St. Paul; and his Cure would be absolutely impossible, could we se [...] Bounds to the Power and Mercy of God.

Those that walk in the Dark, rejoyce at the sight of Light; but this Man cannot suffer it, because [Page] it wounds him by opposing his Passion. His Fear is in some sort voluntary, as being produced by his Hatred; and therefore he loves to feel its Commotions, because we love to be agitated even with the Passions that have Evil for their Object, when the Evil is only imaginary, or rather when we know, as in Tragedies, that the Evil cannot hurt us.

The Phantasms which those that walk in the Dark frame in their Imaginations, vanish at the Approach of Light; but the idle Dreams of this sort of Men will not disappear at the Light of Truth, which instead of dissipating the Darkness of their Mind, incenses their Imagination; so that the frustrated Light recoils, because they are wholly taken up with the Objects of their Passion; and it seems those Apparitions have a real Body, since they reflect some weak Rays of the Light that falls upon them.

But though we should suppose in those Men a sufficient Teachableness and Attention, to listen to, and comprehend the Reasons that may dissipate their Errours; yet their Imagination being disorder'd by Fear, and their Heart corrupted by Hatred and false Zeal, those Reasons, how solid soever they might be, could not long stop the impetuous Stream of those violent Passions, nor hinder them from speedily justifying themselves by sensible and convincing Proofs.

For we ought to observe, that there are transitory Passions, which never return; whereas there are others that are constant and permanent. Those that are not kept up by the sight of the Mind, but are only produced and fortified by the sensible View of an Object, and the Fermentation of the Blood, are not lasting, but commonly die soon after their Birth; whereas those that are associated with the Contemplation of the Mind, are steady, because the Principle that produces them is not subject to change, as Blood and Humours are. So that Hatred, Fear, and all other Passions that are excited or preserved by the Knowledge of the Mind, and not raised by the sensible View of Evil, must needs be durable, and withal very violent and unjust. However, those Passions are not the most lively and sensible, as we shall now shew.

The Perception of Good and Evil, which raises the Passions, is produced Three ways; by the Senses, by the Imagination, and by the Mind. By way of the Senses it produces very quick and sensible Passions; by way of the Imagination, much weaker; but those which proceed from the Perception of Good and Evil by the Mind alone, are true Passions, on no other account than as that View of Good and Evil is always attended by some Motion of the Animal Spirits.

Passions are only given us for the good of the Body, and for uniting us by it to sensible Things: For though sensible Things are neither good nor bad, in reference to the Mind; yet they are so in relation to the Body, to which the Mind is united: So that the Senses and Imagination, discovering much better than the Mind the Relation of sensible Objects to our Body, must needs raise Passions far livelier than a clear and evident Knowledge: But because our Knowledge is always attended with some Commotion of the Spirits, a clear and evident Knowledge of a great Good, or a great Evil, not to be discover'd by the Senses, always raises some secret Passion.

However, all clear and evident Knowledge of any Good or Evil, is not always followed with a sensible and perceptible Passion; as all our Passions are not accompanied with an intellectual Knowledge. For, as we sometimes think upon Good or Evil, without being conscious of any Commotion; so we often feel our selves agitated with Passion, without knowing or sometimes without being sensible of the Cause. A Man that sucks in a good Air is affected with Joy, and knows not why, nor what sort of Good he enjoys that produces it: And if some invisible Corpuscle mixes with his Blood, and hinders its Fermentation, he is taken with Sorrow, and may even ascribe the Cause of it to something visible, that offers it self to him in the time of his Passion.

Of all Passions, none are more sensible nor quick, and consequently less mingled with Knowledge, than Horrour and Antipathy, Agreeableness and Sympathy. A Man sleeping under the Shadow of a Tree, often starts up, when a Fly stings him, or a Leaf tickles him, as though a Serpent had bitten him: The confused Sense of a Thing as terrible as Death it self, frightens him, and he finds himself surpriz'd with a very strong and violent Passion, which is an Aversion of Desire, before he bethinks himself. On the contrary, a Man in want discovers by chance some small Good, the Sweetness of which surprizes him; and he is inconsiderately taken up with that Trifle, as though it were the greatest Good in the World, without making any Reflection on it. The same happens in the Motions of Sympathy and Antipathy. We see in a Company a Person whose Deportment and Manners have some secret Agreeableness to the present Disposition of our Body; so his Sight pierces and strikes us, and we are inclined, without Reflection, to love and wish him well. Thus we are agitated by I don't know what, since Reason has no Share in it. The contrary befals those whose Aspect and Looks shed, as it were, Disgust and Aversion: They have I know not what, that offends and puts us back: for the Mind understands nothing in it; the Senses only are competent Judges of sensible Beauty and Ugliness, which are the Objects of those kinds of Passions.

F. MALEBRANCHE's TREATISE Concerning the SEARCH after TRUTH. BOOK VI. Concerning METHOD.

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CHAP. I.

The Design of this Book. Two general Ways for the Preserving Evidence in the Search of Truth, which shall be the Subject of this Tract.

WE have seen in the foregoing Books, that the Mind of Man is very obnoxious to Errour; that the Deceptions of his Senses Lib. I., the Visions of his Imagination Lib. II., and the Abstractions of his Mind Lib. III., lead him into frequent Mistakes; that the Inclinations of his Will Lib. IV., and the Passions of his Heart Lib. V., almost ever conceal the Truth from him, and never suffer it to appear without being tinged with those false Colours that flatter Concupiscency. In short, we have partly discover'd the Errours of the Mind, with their Causes: Now 'tis time we should shew the Way that leads to the Knowledge of Truth, and give the Mind all the possible Skill and Strength to walk therein, without straying or wearying it self in vain.

But, to spare the Readers an unprofitable Labour, we think fit to advise them, this Last Book is only made for such as earnestly desire to seek the Truth by themselves, and to make use of the Force of their own Mind for that purpose. I require them to despise for a while all probable Opinions, to wave the strongest Conjectures, to neglect the Authority of all the Philosophers, to free themselves, as far as possible, from all Prejudice, Interest, and Passion; to enter into an extreme Mistrust of their Senses and Imagination: In a word, well to remember the greatest part of the Things that have been said in the former Books.

I attempt, in this last Book, to give the Mind all the Perfection it can naturally attain to, by supplying it with the necessary Helps to become more attentive and enlarg'd, and prescribing it those Rules that must be observed in the Inquiry after Truth, that it may never mistake, but learn in time whatever can be known.

Could I carry this Design to its utmost Perfection, which I pretend not, this being but an Essay towards it, I might boast to have found out an Universal Science, which would make those truly learned that knew how to make use of it; since they would have the Foundation of all the particular Sciences, which they would acquire proportionably as they should make use of that Universal Science: For, by this Treatise we endeavour to render the Mind capable of passing a true and certain Judgment upon all the Questions that are not beyond its reach.

As, to be a good Mathematician, 'tis not sufficient to learn by Heart all the Demonstrations of Euclid, Pappus, Archimedes, Apollonius, and others that have written of Geometry; so, to be a Learned Philosopher, 'tis not enough to have read Plato, Aristotle, Des Cartes, and perfectly to know their Sentiments upon Philosophical Questions. For the Knowledge of all the Opinions and Judgments of other Men, either Philosophers or Geometricians, is rather a History, than a Science; the true Science that perfects, as far as possible, the Mind, consisting in a certain Ability of solidly judging of all things proportion'd to its Reach. But, not to lose time, nor prepossess the Reader with precipitate Judgments, let us begin to treat of such an important Matter.

First of all, we ought to remember the Rule that has been established, and proved at the beginning of the First Book, because 'tis the Foundation and Principle of whatever we shall say hereafter. [Page] And therefore I repeat it; We must never give a full Consent, but to those Propositions that appear so evidently true, that they cannot be denied it, without feeling an inward Pain, and the secret Reproaches of our Reason; that is to say, without clearly knowing we should make a wrong Use of our Liberty by with-holding our Consent. For, as many times as we yield to Probabilities, we certainly venture to be mistaken; and 'tis but by good Chance, or a lucky Hit, if we be not really deceived. So that the confused Sight of a great number of Probabilities, upon different Subjects, makes not our Reason more perfect; nothing but the clear View of the Truth being able to afford it any real Perfection and Satisfaction.

Thence 'tis easie to conclude, That since, according to our first Rule, nothing but Evidence can assure us that we are not deceived, we ought to take a special care to preserve that Evidence in all our Perceptions; that we may pass a sound Judgment upon all the Things to which our Reason can attain, and discover as many Truths as we are capable of.

The Things that can produce and preserve that Evidence, are of two sorts; some are within us, and in some manner depending on us; others are out of our Jurisdiction. For, as to see distinctly visible Objects, 'tis required to have a good Sight, and to fix it steadfastly upon them; which two Things are in us, or in some manner depending on us: So 'tis requisite to have a sound Understanding, and a strong Application, in order to pierce into the bottom of intelligible Truths; which two Things are in us, or in some sort in our power.

But as the Eyes stand in need of Light to see, which Light depends upon foreign Causes; so the Mind needs Ideas to conceive, which, as it has been proved elsewhere, have no Dependency upon us, but are furnished to us by a foreign Cause. So that should the Ideas of Things supersede being present to our Minds, as often as we desire to see them; should he that enlightens the World conceal them from us; it would not be more possible for us to redress it, or to know any thing, than it is to see visible Objects when the Light is gone. But we have no reason to fear it: For the Presence of Ideas being natural to our Minds, and depending on the general Will of God, which is constant and immutable, they can never disappear, nor fail us in the Discovery of such Things as are attainable by Natural Reason. For, the Sun that enlightens the Minds, is not like that which illuminates Bodies; it is never eclipsed, nor goes ever down, but penetrates every thing without dividing its Light.

The Ideas of all Things being then continually present to us, even when we do not attentively consider them; all that we need doe to make all our Perceptions evident, is only to look for such Means as can increase the Attention and Extent of the Mind; as nothing else is required on our side, to distinguish visible and present Objects, but to have good Eyes, and to fix them thereupon.

However, because the Objects we consider have more Relations than we can discover at once, by a simple Essay of Thought; we still need some Rules, skilfully to unfold the Difficulties; by which Succours, the Mind, being grown more attentive and extended, may with a full Evidence discover all the Relations of the Thing examined.

We shall divide this Sixth Book into Two Parts. We shall treat in the First, of those Supplies that may afford the Mind more Attention and Extent; and in the Second we shall prescribe those Rules that it must follow in the Inquiry after Truth, to pass sound and undeceivable Judgments.

CHAP. II.

That Attention is necessary to preserve Evidence in our Knowledge: That the Modifications of the Soul make her attentive, but share and take up too much her Capacity of Perceiving.

WE have shewn at the Beginning of this Work, that the Understanding does nothing but perceive; and that, as to its Concern, there is no difference betwixt bare Perceptions, Judgments, and Reasonings, unless it be, that the second and third are Perceptions more composed than the first; because they not only represent many Things, but also the Relations they have together. For naked Perceptions represent only Things to the Mind; whereas Judgments represent the Relations that are betwixt Things and Reasonings, the Relations that are betwixt the Relations of Things, provided they be simple Reasonings; for if they were Complex, they would represent Relations of Relations, or compound Relations, which are between the Relation of Things, and so ad infinitum. For, proportionably as Relations multiply, so the Reasonings, that represent them to the Mind, become more composed: However, Judgments and simple Reasonings, as well as those that are composed, are but, as to the Understanding, bare Perceptions, since it does no more than simply perceive, as has been already observed.

Whence it appears, that the Understanding never falls into Errour, since there is none in Perceptions; and, that Errour it self is not of an intelligible nature: For, as we have already said many times, it consists in a too hasty Consent of the Will, which suffers it self to be dazzled by some false Glimpse, and, instead of keeping its Liberty as long as possible, negligently relies upon the Appearance of Truth.

[Page]Notwithstanding, as it commonly happens that the Understanding has but confused and imperfect Perceptions of Things; so 'tis really a Cause of our Errours, though only occasional. For, as the Corporeal Sight leads us into Mistake, when it represents outward Objects confusedly and imperfectly; confusedly, when they are at too great a distance, or for want of Light; and imperfectly, when it only shews such Faces of them as look towards us: So the Understanding often having but a confused and imperfect Conception of Things, because they are not sufficiently present to it, and that it discovers not all their Parts, causes the Will, that too easily yields to those obscure and imperfect Conceptions, to fall into many Errours.

We must then look out for Means that may hinder our Perceptions from being confused and imperfect. And because, as every one knows, nothing can make them more clear and distinct, than Attention; we must find out Means to become more and more attentive. Thus we may hope to keep to Evidence in our Reasonings, and even to survey all at once the necessary Connexion betwixt all the Parts of our longest Inferences.

To find out those Means, 'tis necessary to persuade our selves of what has been said elsewhere, That the Mind gives not an equal Attention to all the Things it perceives: For it applies it self infinitely more to such as affect, modifie, and penetrate it, than to those which, though they be present, yet do not concern or belong to it: In short, 'tis more taken up with its own Modifications, than with the bare Ideas of Objects, which Ideas are Things different from it self.

Thence it comes, that we consider but with tediousness, dislike, and remissness, the abstracted Ideas of the pure Understanding; that we apply our selves much more to Things that we imagine, especially when our Imagination is strong, and the Tracks of our Brain very deep: And lastly, that we are wholly taken up with sensible Qualities, and even so, that we can afford no Attention to the pure Ideas of the Mind, when we feel something very pleasant or painful. For Pain, Pleasure, and other Sensations, being Modes of the Souls Existence, 'tis impossible we should exist without perceiving them, and having the Capacity of the Mind taken up, since our Sensations are nothing but Perceptions.

But 'tis not so with the pure Ideas of the Mind, since they may be intimately united to it, without its taking the least notice of them. For, though God is most intimately united with us, and comprehends the Ideas of whatever we see; yet those Ideas, though never so present, and, as I may say, in the middle of our selves, are concealed from us, when the Motions of the Spirits do not raise their Traces, or when our Will applies not the Mind to consider them; that is to say, when it performs not those Acts to which the Author of Nature has joined the Representation of those Ideas. This is the Foundation of whatever we shall say concerning the Means that can improve our Attention, which Means will be drawn from the very Nature of the Mind; so that 'tis to be hoped, that they will not prove fruitless and chimerical, as many others, that are more puzling than serviceable. And though they should not be as useful as we could wish, yet the Time that shall be bestowed upon their Reading will not be entirely lost, since this will afford us a fuller Knowledge of the Nature of the Mind.

The Modifications of the Soul have Three Causes, the Senses, the Imaginations, and the Passions: For every one experimentally knows, that Pain and Pleasure, and all other strong Sensations, lively Imaginations, and vehement Passions, take up the Mind so much as to make it incapable of Attention, at the time they too vigorously affect it; because they fill, as I may say, its whole Capacity, or Faculty of Perceiving. And even when those Modifications are moderate, they still divide its Capacity in some sort; so that it cannot give up it self wholly to the Consideration of abstracted Truths.

Thence we must draw this important Conclusion, That those that will earnestly apply themselves to search after Truth, must carefully, and as far as possible, avoid all the Sensations that are too lively, as a great Noise, a bright Light, Pleasure, Pain, &c. That they must incessantly watch over the Purity of their Imagination, lest deep Traces should be imprinted on their Brain, which would continually disturb, and, as it were, dissolve the Mind; and that they must above all stop the Motions of the Passions, which make so powerful an Impression on the Body and Soul, that it is for the most part impossible the Mind should think upon any thing else. For though the pure Ideas of Truth are always present, yet they cannot be attended to, while the whole Reach and Compass of our Thoughts are charg'd with these penetrating Modifications.

However, as it is not possible that the Soul should be free of Passion, Sensation, or any other particular Modification, we must make a Vertue of Necessity, and endeavour to draw, from those very Modifications, such Succours as can make us more attentive: But the Use of them requires great Skill and Circumspection, if we desire to make an Advantage of them; and we must carefully examine how far we have occasion for them, that we may use them only when the necessity of being attentive compels us to it.

CHAP. III.

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Of the Vse that can be made of the Passions and Senses, to preserve the Attention of the Mind.

THE Passions that may successfully incite us to the Enquiry after Truth, are those that afford Strength and Courage to overcome the trouble of rendring our selves attentive: There are some good, and others bad; the Good are such as the Desire of finding out the Truth, of getting so much Light as to conduct our selves, and be useful to our Neighbours, and the like; the Bad, or Dangerous are, the Desire of getting Fame, of making Establishments, of rising above our Fellows, and others yet more corrupted, of which we need not speak.

In our present unhappy State, it often happens, that the least rational Passions are the most inciting to the Enquiry after Truth, and are more pleasant Consolations in all the Troubles we are at to discover it, than such as are juster, and more reasonable: For Instance, Vanity moves us much more than the Love of Truth; and we see every day such Persons as are extraordinarily given to study, as long as they find Men before whom they can boast of their Learning; whereas they entirely forsake it, when they meet with no body more to listen to them. The confused Prospect of the Glory that surrounds them when they vend their Opinions, bears up their Courage in the most fruitless and tedious Studies: But if either by Chance, or the Necessity of their Affairs, they come to be taken off from that little Flock of Applauders, their Heat presently cools, the most solid Studies are no longer alluring; Distaste, Tediousness and Moro [...]eness overtake them, and make them forsake all. Vanity did triumph over their natural Laziness, but now Laziness triumphs over the Love of Truth; for Vanity may sometimes resist Laziness, but Laziness commonly proves too strong and powerful for the Love of Truth.

However, as the Passion for Glory may be referr'd to a good End, as, to the Glory of God, the publick Use, the Preservation of our good Name; some Persons may perhaps be allow'd, in some cer [...]ain Cases, to make use of that Passion, as a powerful Help to make the Mind more attentive. But Care must be taken to use it only when the reasonable Passions, whereof mention has been made, are not sufficient, and that our Duty engages us to apply our selves to Subjects that are very disgusting; First, because that Passion is very dangerous to the Conscience; Secondly, because it insensibly draws us into ill Studies, that have more Lustre than Use or Truth in them; and Lastly, because it is very difficult to moderate it, and that we often become its Fool and Property; and instead of enlightning the Mind, we only strengthen the Concupiscence of Pride, which both corrupts our Moral Powers, and darkens our Understanding with an undissolvable Obscurity.

For it must be consider'd how That Passion insensibly increases, settles and fortifies it self in the Heart of Man; and when it is too violent, instead of helping the Mind in the Search of Truth, it strangely blinds it, and even persuades it that Things are just as it desires they should be.

Sure it is, there would not be so many false Inventions, nor imaginary Discoveries, were not Men's Heads giddy'd by the ardent Desire of appearing Inventors. For the firm and obstinate Persuasion wherein several Persons have been to have found, for Instance, the Perpetual Motion, the Quadrature of the Circle, the Duplication of the Cube by ordinary Geometry, in all likelihood proceeded from an extraordinary Desire of seeming to have perform'd what others have vainly attempted.

And therefore 'tis fitter to excite in us such Passions as are so much more useful to our searching out of Truth, as they are more strong, and wherein the Excess is not to be fear'd: Such are the Desires of making a good Use of our Mind; of freeing our selves from Prejudices and Errours; of getting a sufficient Light to behave our selves in our Condition; and such others as neither engage us into fruitless Studies, nor carry us on to rash and inconsiderate Judgments.

When we have begun to taste the pleasure of making use of our Mind, to be sensible of the Profit that arises from it, have freed our selves of violent Passions, and have disrelish'd sensible Pleasures, which always prove the Masters of, or rather the Tyrants over Reason, in those that indiscreetly give up themselves to them; we need not other Passions, but such as we have spoken of, to become attentive upon the Subjects on which we desire to meditate.

But most Men are not in that Condition; they have neither Taste, nor Understanding, nor Curiosity for any thing but what affects the Senses; their Imagination is corrupted by an almost infinite Number of deep Traces, which raise none but false Ideas; and as they depend upon all the Objects that resort to the Senses and Imagination, so they always judge by the Impression they receive from them; that is, with reference to themselves. Pride, Debauchery, the various Engagements, the restless Desires of Advancement, which are so common amongst the Men of the World, darken the Sight of Truth, and stifle in them the Sense of Piety; because they separate them from God, who alone is able to enlighten, as he alone is able to govern us. For we cannot increase our Union with sensible Things, without diminishing that which we have with intellectual Truth, since we cannot be at the same time strictly united with Things so different and opposite.

Those whose Imagination is pure and chaste, that is, whose Brain is not fill'd up with deep Traces, that fasten them to visible Things, may easily unite themselves to God, listen attentively to the Truth that speaks to them, and even forbear the Use of the most just and rational Passions. [Page] But as to those that live amongst the Great, who depend upon too many things, and whose Imagination is soil'd by the false and obscure Ideas of sensible Objects, they cannot apply themselves to the Truth, unless they be born up by some Passion, strong enough to countervail the Weight of the Body, that carries them down; and to imprint Traces on their Brain, that may make a Revulsion upon the Animal Spirits. However, as every Passion can only by it self perplex our Ideas, they ought to use that Help but so far as Necessity requires; and all Men ought to study themselves, that they may proportionate their Passions to their Weakness.

It is no hard matter to find a Method of raising in us such Passions as we desire, since the Knowledge we have given in the foregoing Books of the Union betwixt Soul and Body has sufficiently open'd the way to it: In a word, no more is requir'd, than to think attentively upon those Objects, that by the Institution of Nature are able to raise the Passions. Thus we may almost at any time excite in our Hearts whatever Passion we have occasion for; but because we can easier excite them at any time than suppress them, or remedy the Disorders they cause in the Imagination, we must be very sober and cautious in employing them.

Above all, we must take care not to judge of Things by Passion, but only by the clear Sight of the Truth, which is almost impossible when the Passions are somewhat lively; they ought only to raise our Attention, but they never fail of stirring up their proper Ideas, and violently driving the Will to judge of Things by those Ideas that affect it, rather than by the pure and abstracted Ideas of Truth, that make no Impression upon it: So that we often make Judgments which last no longer than the Passion, because they are not produced by the clear Sight of the immutable Truth, but by the Circulation of the Blood.

True it is that Men are wonderfully obstinate in some Errours, which they maintain as long as they live; but then those Errours have other Causes than the Passions, or at least depend on such as are permanent and lasting, proceeding from the Constitution of the Body, from Interest, or from some other durable Cause. For Instance; Interest being a Motive of a continual standing, produces a Passion that never dies; and the Judgments that arise from it are very long liv'd. But all the other Sentiments of Men, which depend upon particular Passions, are as inconstant as the Fermentation of their Humours: They say one while this, another while that; and yet what they say is commonly conformable to what they think: And as they run from one counterfeit Good to another, by the Motion of their Passion, and are disgusted at it when that Motion ceases; so they run from one false System into another, and ardently assert a false Opinion, when Passion makes it probable; which, the Passion ebbing, they afterwards forsake. By their Passions they taste of every Good, without finding any really so; and by the same Passions see all Truths, without discovering any thing absolutely true; though in the time of their Passion, what they taste seems to them the Sovereign God, and what they see an undeniable Truth.

The Senses are the second Spring, whence we can draw Succours to make the Mind attentive. Sensations are the very Modifications of the Soul, and differ from the pure Ideas of the Mind; the former raising a much stronger Attention than the latter. So that 'tis plain, that to supply the want of Application to insensible Truths, it may be fit to express them in a sensible and moving manner.

'Tis for that Reason, that Geometricians express by sensible Lines, the Proportions that are betwixt several Magnitudes; for by drawing Lines upon Paper, they draw, as I may say, answerable Ideas upon their Mind, and make them more familiar by Seeing them at the same time that they Conceive them. Thus several very difficult Things may be taught to Children, though they be not susceptible of abstracted Truths, by reason of the Nicety of the Fibres of their Brain: Their Eyes see nothing but Colours, Pictures, Images; but their Mind considers the Ideas that answer those sensible Objects.

But we must take a special Care not to over-shadow the Objects which we will consider or represent to others, with so much Sensibility, that the Mind should be more taken up with it, than with the Truth it self, which is a most considerable and common Fault; for we meet every day with Men that apply themselves only to what moves the Senses, and express themselves in such a sensible manner, that Truth is as stifled under a vain and pompous Apparel of their false Eloquence; so that their Hearers, being more affected with the Measure of their Periods, and the Motions of their Figures, than by the Reasons they alledge, give way to be persuaded, without so much as knowing what causes their Persuasion, or what they are persuaded of.

And therefore we must so carefully moderate the Sensibility of our Expressions, as only just to make the Mind attentive. There is nothing more beautiful than Truth; neither can we pretend to make it handsomer, by daubing it with sensible Colours, that have no Solidity in them, and are pleasing but a short time. We might perhaps make it more fine and delicate, but should enerve and emasculate it: So that we ought not to set it off with so much Lustre and Brightness, that the Mind be more taken up with the Ornaments, than with the Body it self; this being to deal with it as some Persons do with themselves, when loaded with such abundance of Gold and precious Stones, they appear the least considerable part of the whole which they make up with their Clothes. We must dress the Truth as are those Magistrates of Venice, who are oblig'd to wear a plain Gown and a Cap, to distinguish them from the Commonalty; that Men may look on their Faces with Reverence and Attention, without admiring their Apparel. Lastly, We must take care not to surcharge it with too great a Retinue of delightful Things, that dissipate the Mind, and obstruct its View, lest we should give to any thing else the Honours due to it: As it often happens to Princes, who cannot be distinguish'd amongst the great Number of their Courtiers and Attendants, who assume to themselves that Air of Greatness, and Majestical Countenance, which only becomes the Sovereigns themselves.

[Page]But to give a more considerable Instance, I say, that Truth must be proposed to others, as it manifests it self. The Sight of Men, since the Fall of their Fore-fathers, is too weak to look on Truth it self, and therefore Sovereign Truth has made it self sensible by coming invested with our Humanity, that it might attract our Thoughts, enlighten our Mind, and appear lovely to our Eyes. So we may, according to that Pattern, adorn with something sensible the Truths we endeavour to understand our selves, and to teach others, that we may fix the Mind upon them, which loves what is sensible, and is not easily delighted by Things that flatter not the Senses. The Eternal Wisdom has made it self sensible, but not glittering and pompous; becoming sensible, not to fasten us to what is sensible, but to raise us to what is intellectual, and to condemn and sacrifice Sensibility in his own Person. So we must make use, in the Knowledge of Truth, of something sensible, but not too splendid; that cannot indear too much the sensible Object, but only keep open the Eye of our Mind in the Contemplation of mere intellectual Truths: Such Sensibility should be employ'd, as we may dissipate, annihilate, and willingly sacrifice upon the Sight of the Truth, to which it has conducted us. The Eternal Wisdom has offer'd it self to us from without, in a sensible manner, not to keep us abroad, but that we may retire within our selves, and that the Inner Man might intellectually consider it: So we must, in our Search of Truth, make use of something sensible, which may not keep us abroad gazing on its Lustre, but make us enter into our selves, and strengthen our Attention and Union to the Eternal Truth, which only is able to rule the Mind, and enlighten it upon any Subject whatsoever.

CHAP. IV.

Of the Vse of Imagination to make the Mind attentive, and especially of the Vsefulness of Geometry.

WE had need be very circumspect and cautious in the Choice and Use of those Helps that we may draw from our Senses and Passions, to become attentive to the Truth; because our Senses and Passions too vividly affect us, and so much fill up the Capacity of the Mind, that it often sees nothing but its own Sensations, when it proposes to discover Things in their own Nature. But as to those Succours which our Imagination may afford us, they make the Mind attentive, without fruitlesly dividing its Capacity, and wonderfully help us to a clear and distinct Perception of Objects; so that they are for the most part very useful, as will be made plain by some Instances.

We know that a Body is moved by two or several different Causes, towards two or several different Places, whereunto it is equally or unequally driven by these Forces; that the Force of the Motion perpetually increases or decreases, according to some known Proportion. We are asked what way that Body goes, in what place it shall be at such or such a Moment, with what degree of Celerity it shall be endued when 'tis come to such a place; and other like Questions.

1. From the point A, whence we suppose that it begins

[figure]

to move, draw the indefinite Lines AB, AC, that make the Angle BAC, if they cut each other; for AB and AC are direct, and cut not each other when the Motions they express are directly opposite. Thus we distinctly represent to the Imagination, or, if you please, to the Senses, the way that Body should take when it is only moved by one of these Forces, either towards B, or C.

2. But if the Force that moves it towards B be equal to that which moves it towards C, then divide the Lines AB and AC into the parts 1, 2, 3, 4. I, II, III, IV, equally distant from A: If the Force that moves it towards B be double of that which moves it towards C, take in the Line AB Parts that are double of those that you cut in AC: If that Force be subduple, take them subduple; if it be thrice greater or lesser, cut them likewise thrice greater or lesser; and so proportionably. The Divisions of those Lines will represent to the Imagination the different Degrees of those moving Forces, and withal, the Space that they shall cause the Body to run over.

3. Draw through those Divisions Parallels upon AB and AC, to have the Lines 1X, 2X, 3X, &c. equal to AI, AII, AIII, &c. and IX, IIX, IIIX, equal to A1, A2, A3, &c. that represent the Spaces through which those Forces carry that Body. Through the Intersections of those Parallels draw the Line AXYE, that represent to the Imagination, first, the true Greatness of the composed Motion of that Body which is supposed [Page]

[figure]

to be driven at the same time towards B and C, by two different Forces, according to some certain Proportion: Secondly, The Way that it is to pass through: And, lastly, All the Places in which it must be in a determinate Time. So that this Line serves not only to bear up the Sight of the Mind in the Inquiry after all the Truths that are discoverable in the Question proposed; but also represents the Solution of it in a sensible and convincing manner.

First, That Line AXYE expresses the true Degrees of the compound Motion: For we sensibly perceive, that if each of the Forces which produce it can promote the Body a Foot in a Minute, its composed Motion will be of two Foot in a Minute, if both moving Forces do perfectly agree; since in that Case it is enough to add AB to AC. But if those Forces are not altogether equal, the composed Motion AE will be greater than one of the Compoundings, AB or AC, by the Line YE: Whereas if those Motions be opposite in any thing, the composed will be lesser than either of the compounding, by the Line YE; and if they be entirely opposite, it will come to nothing.

Secondly, The Line AXYE represents to the Imagination the Way which that Body shall go: For we sensibly perceive in what Proportion it shall advance more to one than to the other side. We likewise perceive, that all the compound Motions are direct, when each of the compounding is always the same, though they be unequal betwixt themselves; or when the Compoundings are always equal betwixt themselves, though they be not constantly the same. Lastly, It plainly appears, that the Lines described by those Motions are crooked, when the Compounding are both unequal to each other, and not always the same.

Thirdly, Last of all, That Line represents to the Imagination all the Places in which that Body, driven by two different Forces towards two different Places, shall be found; so that we can precisely mark the Point in which that Body shall be in any Instant whatsoever. For instance, If you desire to know in what Place that Body shall be at the beginning of the fourth Minute, divide the Lines AB, or AC, in such Parts as express the Space through which those known Forces might each of them carry that Body within a Minute; take three of those Parts in either of these Lines, then draw through the beginning of the fourth 3X parallel to AB, or IIIX parallel to AC; for 'tis evident that the Point X, which either of those Parallels determine in the Line AXYE, designs the Place in which that Body shall be at the beginning of the fourth Minute of its Motion. Thus that Method of examining Questions, not only keeps up the View of

[figure]

the Mind, but also affords the Solution of them, and withal a sufficient Light to discover unknown Things by a few that are known.

For Instance: After what has been said, it is enough only to know, that a Body that was in A at such a time, is in E at such another; and that the different Forces that drive it, describe Lines that make such an Angle as BAC, to discover the Line of its composed Motion, and the different Degrees of Celerity of the simple Motions; provided we know that those Motions are equal or uniform to each other. For when we have two Points of a Right Line, we have it entire, and we can compare the Right Line AE, or the composed Motion that is known, with the Lines AB, and AC, that is, with the simple Motions that are unknown.

Now let us afresh suppose a Stone driven from A to B, by an uniform Motion, but descending towards E with an unequal, like to that which ponderous Bodies are thought generally to tend to the Centre of the Earth, according to the common Opinion; that is to say, let the Spaces which it passes over be amongst themselves as the Squares of the Times in which it passes them over; the Line which it shall describe will be a Parabola, and the Point in which the Stone shall be at every Moment of its Motion, may be determined with the utmost Nicety and Exactness.

For, if at the first Moment that Body falls Two Foot from A towards C, in the second Six, in the [Page] third Ten, in the fourth Fourteen, and that it be driven by an uniform Motion from A towards B, which is Sixteen Foot in length; 'tis evident, that the Line which that Body describes is a Parabola, whose Parameter is Eight Foot long; because the Square of the Lines that are applied the Diameter, which Lines mark the Times, and the regular Motion of A towards B, is equal to the Rectangle of the Parameter, through the Lines that mark the unequal and accelerated Motions; so that the Squares of the applied Lines, or the Squares of the Times, will be amongst themselves, as the Parts of the Diameter contained betwixt the Pole and the applied Lines.

16 : 64 : : 2 : 8 64 : 144 : : 8 : 18, &c.

The bare looking on the sixth Figure is sufficient to persuade us of all this; for the Semicircles shew that A2 is to A4, that is, to the applied Line 2X, its equal, as 2X is to A8: That A18 is to A12, that is, to the applied Line 18X, as 18X is to A8, &c. And therefore, that the Rectangles A2 by A8, and A18 by A8, are equal to the Squares of 2X and 18X, &c. and consequently those Squares have the same Proportion to each other, as those Rectangles.

The Parallels upon AB and AC, which cut each other at the Points XXX, do also sensibly shew the Way of that Body, and the Places in which it must be at such a time. Lastly, They represent to the Eyes the true Degrees of the composed Motion, and of its Acceleration, in any determinate Time.

Let's suppose again a Body moving from A towards B and C, but unequally on both sides. If that Inequality be always and every where alike, or if it either encreases or diminishes in the same proportion, the Line which it shall describe will be a Right.

And though there should be an Inequality, either in the Augmentation or Diminution of the simple Motions, whatever that Inequality be, it will not be hard to find the Line that represents to the Imagination the Motion composed of the simple Motions, if you express those Motions by Lines, and draw to these Lines Parallels cutting each other: For, the Line that shall pass through all the Intersections of those Parallels, will represent the Motion composed of those Motions that are unequal, and unequally increased or diminished.

For example, If we suppose that a Body is moved by two equal or unequal Forces, whatever they be; that one of those Motions still encreases, or diminishes, in any given Geometrical, or Arithmetical Proportion; and that the other Motion encreases or diminishes in some other Arithmetical, or Geometrical Progression; to find out the Points through which the Line must pass that represents to the Eyes and Imagination the Motions composed of those Motions, draw, as has been said, the two Lines AB and AC, that

[figure]

express the simple Motions, and divide those Lines as those several Motions are supposed to accelerate, at the Points 1, 2, 3, 4, 5: If the Motion represented by the Line AC encreases or diminishes in such an Arithmetical Progression as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. And if the Motion represented by the Line AB increases in this double Progression, 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, or diminishes in the subduple Progression, 4, 2, 1, ½, ¼, ⅛, divide it at the Points 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, or 4, 2, 1, ½, [...]/4, ⅛; lastly, draw through those Divisions Parallels to AB and AC, and the Line AE, that passes through all the Points of the Intersection of those Parallels, will be the Line representing the composed Motion, and the Way through which the Body moves.

If we desire exactly to know how long a Body has been in coming to such a Point, from its setting out; the Parallels drawn from the Point upon AB, or AC, will shew it; for the Divisions of AB, and AC, mark the Time. And likewise, if we desire to know the Place to which a Body shall arrive within some certain Time, the Parallels drawn from the Divisions of the Lines AB and AC, that represent the Time, will, by their Intersection, shew us the Point we seek for. As to its Distance from the Term whence it has begun to move, it will always be easie to know it, by drawing a Line from that Point towards A; for the Length of that Line will be known, by comparing it either to AB or AC, which are known. But as to the Length of the Way through which that Body has run, in advancing to this Point, it will still be hard to discover it; because AE, the Line of its Motion, being crooked, cannot be compared with either of those Right Lines.

If you would determine the infinite Points through which that Body must pass, that is, nicely describe, and by a continual Motion, the Line AE, you had need make a Pair of Compasses that should move according to all the Conditions express'd in the Suppositions that have been mentioned; which would be very difficult to invent, and impossible to perform, and almost unprofitable, to discover the Relations of Things betwixt themselves; since commonly we need not all the Points of which a Line is composed, but only some, to help the Imagining Faculty, when it considers those Motions.

Those Instances are sufficient to shew, that we may by Lines express and represent to the Imagination most of our Ideas; and that Geometry, which teaches to compare those Lines, and thereby know their several Relations, is of a greater use and extent than is commonly supposed. For, Astronomy, Musick, Mechanicks, and generally all the Sciences, whose Objects are susceptible of more or less, and may be consider'd under the Notion of extended, that is to say, all accurate [Page] Sciences, may be referr'd to Geometry; because all Speculative Truths, consisting in the Relations of things, or in Relations betwixt their Relations, they may all be referr'd to Lines; Geometrical Consequences may be drawn from them; and when those Consequences are made sensible by Lines, 'tis almost impossible to mistake. Thus may Sciences be carried very far with great easiness.

For Instance, The Reason why we distinctly know, and precisely mark an Octave, a Fifth, a Fourth in Musick, is that the Sounds are expressed by Strings exactly divided; and that we know that the String which sounds an Octave is in double proportion with that from whence the Octave rises; that a Fifth is with it in a Sesquialter Proportion, or as 3 to 2, and so of the rest. For the Ear alone cannot judge of Sounds, with so much nicety and accuracy as a Science requires. The most skilful Practitioners, the most delicate and nicest Ears are not sensible enough to observe the difference betwixt certain Sounds, and judging of things by the Sensation they have of them, fasly imagine that there's none at all. Some cannot distinguish betwixt an Octave and 3 thirds, others fancy that the Major Tone differs not from the Minor; so that the Comma, which is their Difference, is insensible to them, and much more the Schisma, which is but the half of the Comma.

And therefore, 'tis Reason alone that manifestly shews us, that the space of the String which makes the Difference betwixt certain Sounds, being divisible into several parts, there may still be a great number of different Sounds, very usefull for Musick, which the Ear cannot distinguish. Whence it plainly appears, that without Arithmetick and Geometry, we should have no exact and regular Knowledge of Musick; neither could we succeed in that Science but by Chance and Imagination, and so Musick would cease from being a Science, grounded upon undeniable Demonstrations. In the mean while it must be granted, that the Songs which owe their birth to the strength of Imagination, are, for the most part, finer and more pleasant to the Senses, than those that are composed by Rule.

And likewise in Mechanicks, the Heaviness of a Body, and the Distance of the Centre of Heaviness from its Prop, being capable of more of less, both may be figured by Lines: So that Geometry is usefull to discover and demonstrate an infinite number of new Inventions, very convenient to this Life, and pleasing to the Mind, because of their Evidence.

For Instance, If a Weight of six pounds is to be put in aequilibrium with one of three, let that Weight of six pound hang on the Arm of a Balance, at two Foot distance from the Prop: then only knowing this general Principle of all Mechanicks, That Weights to stand in aequilibrium, must be in a reciprocal Proportion with their Distances from the Prop; (that is, That one Weight must be to the other, as the Distance betwixt the last Weight and the Prop is to the Distance of the first Weight from the said Prop;) it will be easie to find out by Geometry, what must be the Distance of a Weight of Three pounds, that all may remain in aequilibrio; if you find by the Twelfth Proposition of the Sixth Book of Euclid, a fourth proportional Line, which here will be of four Foot. So that you may plainly discover all the Truths that depend upon that fundamental Principle of Mechanicks, (when once known,) by the use of Geometry; that is, by representing with Lines whatever can be considered in Mechanicks.

Geometrical Lines and Figures are therefore most proper to represent to the Imagination, the Relations betwixt Magnitudes, or betwixt things that differ in degree of more and less, as Spaces, Times, Weights, &c. as well because they are most simple Objects, as that they are imagin'd with great easiness. It may even be said, to the Honour of Geometry, That Lines can represent to the Imagination more things than the Mind can know. Since Lines can express the Relations of incommensurable Magnitudes, that is, such Relations as cannot be known, because there is no common Measure to compare them together. But that Advantage is not very considerable, as to the Search after Truth; because those sensible Representations of incommensurable Magnitudes, discover nothing to the Mind.

Geometry is therefore exceedingly useful, to make the Mind attentive to those things, whose Relations we desire to discover: However it must be granted, that it is sometimes an Occasion of Errour, because the evident and pleasant Demonstrations of that Science, takes us up so much, that we have not a sufficient Regard for the Consideration of Nature. Thence it comes, that the new-invented Engines do not all succeed; that those Musical Composures, in which the Proportions of Consonances are best observed, are not always the most grateful; and that the most accurate Calculations of Astronomy do not always best foretell the Incidence and Duration of Eclipses. Nature is not abstracted; Levers and Wheels, in Mechanicks, are not Mathematical Lines and Circles: All Men are not pleased with the same Musical Tunes, nor even the same Man at different times; for their Satisfaction proceeds from the Commotions of their Spirits, than which nothing can be more variable. And as to Astronomy, the Course of the Planets is not perfectly regular, whilst floating in the vast Spaces they are irregularly carried by the fluid Matter that surrounds them: So that the Errours of Astronomy, Musick, Mechanicks, and all Sciences in which Geometry is used, are not to be ascribed to that undoubted Science, but to the false Application that is made of it.

For Instance, we suppose that Planets, by their Motion, describe Circles and Ellipses perfectly regular, And though that be not exactly true, yet w [...] doe well to suppose it so, that we may draw Inferences from thence, and because it wants but little of being true; but we must still remember, that the Principle from which we argue is a Supposition. Likewise in Mechanicks, we suppose Wheels and Levers perfectly hard without gravity and rubbing, and like to Mathematical Lines and Circles: or rather, we have not a sufficient consideration for the said Gravity and [Page] rubbing, for the Nature of the Matter, and the Relation those things have betwixt them. We mind not that Hardness and Bulk increase Heaviness; Heaviness fretting, whilst fretting diminishes Force, and causes the Engine to break, or wears it out very quickly: So that what often succeeds upon a small portion of Matter, seldom takes effect upon a great Body.

No wonder therefore if we mistake, since we argue from Principles not fully known; nor yet because it rids us not of all Errours, must we imagine Geometry useless. It makes us draw from our Suppositions very true and consequential Inferences; and affords us an evident Knowledge of what we consider, by making us attentive. We can even discover by its means, the Falshood of our Suppositions; for being certain of the Truth of our Reasonings, which however do not agree with Experience, we discover that our Principles are false. But without Geometry and Arithmetick we can discover nothing, that is somewhat difficult, in the most accurate Sciences, though we argue from certain and undeniable Principles.

We must then look upon Geometry as a sort of universal Science, which opens and enlarges the Mind, makes it attentive, and affords it so much Skill as to regulate its Imagination, and to draw from it all the possible Succours. For by the assistance of Geometry, the Mind regulates the Motion of the Imagination, and the Imagination regulated keeps up the View and Application of the Mind.

But that we may learn to make a good use of Geometry, we must observe that all the things that fall under the Imagination, are not as easily imaginable one as the other; since all the Images do not equally fill the Capacity of the Mind. 'Tis more difficult to imagine a Solid than a Plain, and this than a simple Line; because the clear perception of a Solid requires a greater thought than that of a Plain, and a Line. Even Lines differ, as to this, amongst themselves; a Parobolick, Elliptick, or some other very composed Line, requires more thinking, that is, takes up the Mind more than the Figure of a Circle, and this than a right Line; because 'tis harder to imagine Lines that are described by very composed Motions, and have several different Relations, than those that are drawn by Motions very simple, and have but a few Relations. For Relations cannot be clearly perceived without the Attention of the Mind to several things, and as their number is greater, so must the thought or the perception be more extended. Hence it happens, that there are Figures so much composed, that they extend beyond the reach of a distinct Imagination; whereas others may be imagin'd with great facility.

Amongst the three sorts of Right-lined Angles, viz. the acute, the right, and the obtuse, none but the Right raises a very distinct and determinate Idea. For as there are an Infinity of either acute or obtuse Angles, that differ all from one another; so we can imagine nothing nicely nor distinctly, when we imagine an acute or obtuse Angle. But we cannot be mistaken in imagining a right Angle; the Idea of it is so very distinct, and its Image which it raises in the Brain so very nea [...] and just.

True it is, that we may determine the general and indefinite Idea of an acute Angle to the particular Idea of an Angle of 30 degrees, which Idea is as accurate as that of an Angle of 90, that is, or a right Angle; but the Image of it, which we may endeavour to imprint on the Brain, will never [...]e so very exact, as that of a right Angle; being not used to describe that Image, we cannot draw it but by thinking on a Circle, or on the determinate Portion of a Circle divided into equal Pa [...]s. But to imagine a right Angle, we need not think on that division of a Circle; the bare Idea of a Perpendicular is sufficient for the Imagination to draw the Image of that Angle; and we can [...]present Perpendiculars without trouble, being used to see all things standing upright.

Hence it is easie to judge, That to have a simple, distinct, and well-determin'd Object, apt to [...]e easily imagin'd, and consequently to make the Mind attentive, and to promote its Evidence in the Truths it is in quest of; we must reduce all the Magnitudes we consider to plain Superficies, termin'd by Lines and right Angles, as are perfect Squares, and other right Angled Figures, or to bare right Lines; for these are the Figures whose nature is the most easily known.

We pretend not however that all the Subjects of our Knowledge and Enquiry, may be represented by Geometrical Lines and Figures. There are many, which neither can nor ought to be brought under that Rule. For Instance, the Knowledge of a God, Allmighty, All-just, on whom all things depend all manner of ways, who commands his Creatures to obey his Orders, that they may be capable of Happiness; that Knowledge, I say, is the Principle of all Morality, and of an infinite number of certain and undoubted Consequences; yet neither the Principle, nor the Consequences, can be represented by Geometrical Figures. Neither is it possible to figure and represent by Lines many Notions of Natural Philosophy, which yet may evidently discover to us several Truths. However, it may be truly said, that an Infinity of things may be examin'd and learn'd by that Geometrical Method; which is ever advantageously imploy'd, since it accustoms the Mind to Attention, by causing it to make a regular use of its Imagination; and that things which are learn'd that way, are more clearly demonstrated, and easier retain'd than others.

I might have ascribed to the Senses, the Assistances we derive from Geometry, to preserve the Attention of the Mind; but though Lines be something sensible, yet, I thought, Geometry belongs rather to the Imagination, than to the Senses. It would be unprofitable to set down my Reasons for it; which could only justifie the order I have observed in this Treatise: and that's a thing not very material to our purpose. I have not yet spoken of Arithmetick and Algebra, because the Cyphers and Letters of the Alphabet, that are used in those Sciences, are not so serviceable to strengthen the Attention of the Mind as to encrea [...]e its Extent, as we shall explain it in the following Chapter.

[Page]These are the general Helps to improve the Attention of the Mind: I know of no other, besides a firm Resolution of being attentive; of which we forbear to speak, because we suppose it in those that give up themselves to study.

There are, however, some others particular to some Persons; as, some Meats, some Drinks, some Places, some Dispositions of the Body, and the like; which every one must learn from Experience, observing the State of his Imagination after the Meal, and what Things best preserve, or most dissipate the Attention of the Mind. This only may be said in general, That the moderate Use of such Aliments as make many Animal Spirits, is very fit to improve the Attention of the Mind, and the Strength of the Imagination, when 'tis weak and languishing.

CHAP. V.

Of the Means to improve the Extent and Capacity of the Mind: That Arithmetick and Algebra are of absolute Necessity to it.

WE ought not hastily to imagine, that the Extent and Capacity of the Mind can really be increased. The Humane Soul is, if I may so speak, a determined Quantity, or a Portion of Thought, contained within some certain Bounds, which she cannot pass: She cannot grow greater, or more capacious than she is: She neither swells up, nor dilates, as 'tis commonly believed of Liquors and Metals; and perceives never more at one time, than another.

This, I confess, seems contrary to Experience; since sometimes we think upon many Objects, and sometimes but upon one; and even we often suppose, that we think upon nothing. However, if it be consider'd, that Thought is to the Soul, what Extension is to Matter; it will plainly appear, that as a Body cannot truly be more extended at one time than another, so, if we conceive it right, the Soul cannot think more at one time than another; whether it be then that she perceives many Objects, or is taken up with one, or even when she is said to think upon nothing.

But the Reason why we imagine that we think more at one time than another, is, that we do not sufficiently distinguish betwixt confused and distinct Perceptions. More Thought is doubtless required, or the Capacity of Thinking must be more fill'd, distinctly to perceive several Objects, than one alone; but we need not more Thought, to perceive many Things confusedly, than one alone distinctly. Thus the Degrees or Quantity of Thought is equal in the Soul, when she considers many Things, and when she considers only one: For, when she is taken up with one Thing, she has always a clearer Idea of it, than when she applies her self to many.

For, 'tis fit to be observed, That a simple Perception sometimes contains as much Thought, or fills as much the Thinking Capacity of the Mind, as a Judgment, and even a composed Reasoning; since Experience teaches us, that the simple but lively, clear, and evident Perception of one Thing, engages our Application, and possesses us as much, as a composed Reasoning, or the ob [...]cure and confused Perception of several Relations betwixt many Things.

For, as there is as much or more Sensation in the sensible Sight of an Object, which I hold near my Eyes, and curiously examine; than in the Sight of a spacious Field, on which I cast a negligent and careless Eye; because the nearness of the Sensation of the Object near my Eyes, makes up for the Extent of that confused Sensation of those many Things which I slightly and unattentively look upon in a Field: So the spiritual Sight the Mind hath of an Object, is often so lively and distinct, that it contains as much and more Thought, than the View of the Relations betwixt many Things.

True it is, that at some certain times it seems to us as though we thought but upon one Thing, which yet we can hardly comprehend; whereas at other times we comprehend that Thing, and several others, with great easiness: Thence we imagine, that the Soul has more Extent, and a larger Capacity of Thinking, at one time, than at another. But our Mistake is visible; for the Reason why at some certain times we can scarce conceive the easiest Things, proceeds not from the Capacity of the Soul's being straitned or impair'd; but from its being fill'd with some lively Sensation of Pain or Pleasure, or with a great number of weak and dark Sensations, that cause a sort of Giddiness, which is commonly nothing else but the confused Sensation of a great number of Things.

A Piece of Wax is susceptible of a very distinct Figure; but cannot admit two, without a Mixture of both; since it cannot be perfectly round and square at the same time: and if one should pretend to give it a Million of Figures, none of them would be distinct. And in that Case, supposing that Piece of Wax capable of knowing its own Figures, yet it could not tell which it is that terminates it on all sides, the number would be so great. It is even so with our Soul, when a very great number of Modifications take up her Capacity; she can perceive none distinctly, because she has not a separate Sensation of them, and so thinks she is sensible of nothing. She cannot say that she feels Pain, Pleasure, Light, Sound, Savour; 'tis none of those Qualities, and yet 'tis them all together, she is sensible of.

And though we should suppose that the Soul is not subject to the confused and unruly Motion of the Animal Spirits, and so free from the Contagion of her Body, as to have her Thoughts altogether [Page] independent on what happens in it; yet it might fall out that we should easier understand some Things at one time than at another, without any Enlargement or Diminution in the Capacity of our Soul; for then we might think upon particular Objects, or of Being indefinite and in general.

The general Idea of Infinite is inseparable from the Mind, and wholly takes up its Capacity, whenever it thinks upon no particular Thing: For when we say, that we think on nothing, it signifies not that we think not upon that general Idea, but only that our Thoughts are not applied to any particular Object.

And certainly, if that Idea did not fill our Mind, we could not think, as we do, upon all sorts of Things; since we cannot think upon Objects of which we have no Knowledge. And if that Idea were not more present to the Mind when we suppose we think upon nothing, than when we are busie about some particular Object, we could as easily think upon whatever we please, when we are mightily taken up with some particular. Truth, as when we are not attentive unto any thing: Which is repugnant to Experience. For, to instance, when we are strongly engag'd in meditating on some Geometrical Proposition, we find not so much easiness to think upon other Things, as when we are diverted by no particular Thought. And therefore we think more on the General and Infinite Being, when we think less on the Particular and Finite; and we think always as much at one time as at another.

We cannot then improve the Extent and Capacity of the Mind, by swelling it up, as I may say, and giving it more Reality than it has received from Nature: But only by a skilful and dexterous managing thereof; which is done to the best advantage by Arithmetick and Algebra: For those Sciences afford Means of abridging Ideas so methodically, and reducing them into such an Order, as that the Mind, with its little Extent, is capable, with their Assistance, of discovering very composed Truths, and such as appear at first sight incomprehensible. But we must draw these Things from their Principle, that we may explain them with more clearness and certainty.

Truth is nothing else but a real Relation, either of Equality or Inequality: Whereas Falsehood is but the Negation of Truth, or a false and fantastick Relation. Truth is that which is, and Falsehood is not; or, if you will, is that which is not. We never mistake when we see Relations that are, since we cannot be deceived when we see the Truth: But we always mistake, when we judge that we see some Relations that are not in being; for then we see a Falsehood, we see what is not, or rather we see not at all. Whoever sees a Relation of Equality betwixt two times Two, and Four, sees a Truth, because there is such a Relation as he sees; and whoever sees a Relation of Inequality betwixt twice Two, and Five, sees a Truth, because he sees a Relation that really is: But whoever judges that he sees a Relation of Equality betwixt two times Two, and Five, mistakes, because he sees, or rather supposes he sees, a Relation of Equality where there is none. Truths are but Relations, and the Knowledge of Truths is the Knowledge of Relations: But Falsehood is not, and the Knowledge of Falsehood, or a false Knowledge, is, if it may be so said, the Knowledge of what is not; and what is not, cannot be known, but by Relation to what is: So Errour cannot be understood, but by comparing it to Truth.

There may be distinguished as many Species of Falsehood, as of Truth; and as there are Three sorts of Relations, viz. of one Idea to another; of an Object to its Idea, or of an Idea to its Object; and lastly, of one Object to another: So there are Three kinds of Truth and Falsehood; namely, betwixt Ideas, betwixt Things and their Ideas, and betwixt Things themselves. It is true, that 2 times 2 are 4; 'tis false, that twice 2 are 5: That is a Truth and a Falsehood betwixt Ideas. 'Tis true, that there is one Sun; 'tis false, that there are two: Here you have a Truth and a Falsehood betwixt Things and their Ideas. 'Tis true, that the Earth is bigger than the Moon; and 'tis false, that the Sun is smaller than the Earth: There is a Truth and Falsehood betwixt Objects themselves.

Of those Three sorts of Truths, such as are betwixt Ideas are Eternal and Immutable, and upon that account are the Rule and Measure of all others; because every Rule and Measure ought to be unchangeable. And as Arithmetick, Algebra, and Geometry, are general Sciences, that rule and contain all the particular; so they only consider those sorts of Truths. All Truths or Relations betwixt Creatures, or betwixt Ideas and created Things, are obnoxious to those Changes whereof Creatures are susceptible. Nothing but the Truth betwixt our Ideas and the Sovereign Being, or betwixt Ideas themselves, is Immutable; because neither God, nor the Ideas he contains, are subject to Alteration.

And therefore 'tis only that sort of Truths which are betwixt our Ideas, that we try to discover by the Exercise of our Reason; since we, for the most part, make use of our Senses to discover the others; as, we use our Eyes and Hands to ascertain us of the Existence of Things, and to know the Relations of Equality or Inequality betwixt them. There is nothing but Ideas of which the Mind can Infallibly know the Relations by it self, and without the use of Senses. But there are not only Relations betwixt our Ideas, there are also Relations betwixt the Relations of our Ideas, betwixt the Relations of those Relations, betwixt the Collection of many Relations, and so ad infinitum; that is to say, that there are Truths infinitely compounded and perplexed. In Geometrical Stile we call a simple Truth, or the Relation of one Idea to another, (as the Relation of 4 to 2, or to 2 times 2) a Geometrical Reason, or only a Reason: For the Excess and Defect of an Idea, or, to use the common Terms, the Excess or Defect of a Magnitude, is not properly a Reason; nor equal Excesses and Defects, equal Reasons. When the Ideas or Magnitudes are equal, there is a Reason of Equality, and one of Inequality when they are unequal.

[Page]The Relation betwixt Relations of Magnitudes, that is to say, between Reasons, is called Compounded Reason, because 'tis a compounded Relation; as the Relation of 6 to 4, and 3 to 2. When the Compounding Reasons are equal, the Compounded bears the Name of Proportion, or Duplicate Reason. The Relations of 8 to 4, and 6 to 3, are a Proportion; because those two Relations are equal.

It must be observed, That all the Relations or Reasons, as well simple as compounded, are true Magnitudes, that very Name of Magnitude being a relative Term, and necessarily importing a Relation: For, there is nothing Great by it self, and without Relation to another, besides the Infinite or Unite. All entire Numbers are as true Relations as Fractions themselves, or as Numbers compared with, or divided by, others; though we do not consider this, because entire Numbers may be express'd by one Arithmetical Figure. So 4, for instance, or 8/2, is as true a Relation as 2/4, or 2/8, though the Unite to which 4 relates, be not expressed, but understood, 4 being equal to 4 [...], or 8/2; and therefore every Magnitude being a Relation, or every Relation being a Magnitude, it is plain that we can express all Magnitudes by Cyphers, and represent them by Signs to the Imagination.

So that all Truths being but Relations, to know all Truths exactly, both simple and compounded, it is sufficient to have an exact Knowledge of all sorts of Relations, simple and compound: We have already observed, that there are two, viz. Relations of Equality, and Inequality. It is plain, that those of Equality are alike; and that as soon as we know that a Thing is equal to another that is known, we have an accurate Knowledge of its Relation: But it goes not so with Inequality; for because we know that a Tower is higher than a Fathom, and lower than a thousand, it follows not that we have a true Idea of its Heighth, or of its Relation with a Fathom.

To compare things together, or rather critically to measure the Relations of Inequality, there is required a very exact Measure, a simple and very intelligible Idea, an universal Measure, which may be adap [...]ed to all sorts of Subjects. That Measure is Unity, which serves to measure all Things, and without which 'tis impossible to have an accurate Knowledge of any. But all Numbers being made up of Unites, 'tis evident, that without the Ideas of Numbers, and a Method of comparing and measuring those Ideas, that is, without Arithmetick, 'tis not possible to make any Progress in the Knowledge of Compound Truths.

And as Ideas, and the Relations betwixt Ideas; in short, all sorts of Magnitudes can be greater or less than others; so they canno [...] be made equal, but by more or less Unites join'd, or repeated as often as 'tis necessary: So that it is only by the Addition and Subtraction of Unity, or of the Parts of the Unity (when 'tis conceived as divided) that we exactly measure all sorts of Magnitudes, and discover all sorts of Truths. Now Arithmetick and Algebra are, of all Sciences, those that afford us most Skill and Light to effect those Operations, and to manage the Capacity of the Mind to the best Advantage, since they endue it with all the Perfection and Extent that it is capable of, and teach it to discover all the Truths that can be exactly known.

For ordinary Geometry does not so perfect the Mind, as the Imagination; and the Truths which that Science discovers, are not always so evident as the Masters of it fansie. For instance: They suppose they have express'd the Value of some Magnitudes, when they have proved them to be equal to some Lines, that are the Subtendant of Right Angles, whose Sides are perfectly known; or to others, that are determined by some one of the Conick Sections. But their Mistake is visible; for those Subtendants are unknown themselves. We know more exactly the √ 8, or the √ 20, than a Line imagined or described upon Paper, to be the Subtendant of a Right Angle, whose Sides are 2, or one Side of which is 2, and the other 4: At least we know, that the √4 is very near 3, and that the √ 20 is about 4 ½ and there are Rules to come infinitely nearer and nearer the true Magnitude; and if we cannot attain to it, 'tis because the Mind cannot comprehend Infinite. Whereas we have but a very confused Idea of the Magnitude of Subtendant Lines, and are even obliged to have recourse to the √ 8, or the √ 20, to express them. So that the Geometrical Constructions that are used to represent the Value of unknown Quantities, are not so conducible to the Mind, to discover the Relations or Truths sought for, as to rule the Imagination: But as we are more inclined to imploy our Imagination, than our Mind; so Men of Learning have commonly more esteem for Geometry, than for Arithmetick and Algebra.

To understand perfectly, that Arithmetick and Algebra, join'd together, are a real Logick, or the Means to discover the Truth, and afford the Mind as much Extent as it can acquire, it is sufficient to make some Reflections upon the Rules of those Sciences.

We have observed, That all Truths are but Relations; that the most simple, and best known of all, is that of Equality; that it is the initial Relation, from whence we must begin to measure others, whereby to have an exact Idea of Inequality; that the Measure of Inequality is the Unite, which must be repeated or subtracted as often as the Excess or Defect of unequal Magnitudes require it.

Thence it is plain, that all the Operations that may be subservient to discover the Relations of Equality, are only Additions and Subtractions; Additions of Magnitudes, to make Magnitudes even; Additions of Relations, to make equal Relations, or to put Magnitudes in proportion with each other; and lastly, Additions of the Relations of Relations, to equal Relations of Relations, or to put Magnitudes in a Compound Proportion.

To equal 4 to 2, we need only add 2 to 2, or subtract 2 from 4; or lastly, to add the Unite to 2, and subtract it from 4; that's plain.

To even the Relation or Reason of 8 to 2, to that of 6 to 3, we must not add 3 to 2, or [Page] subtract 3 from 8, so that the Excess of one Number to the other ever should be equal to 3, which is the Excess of 6 above 3; that would be an Addition, and Evening of simple Magnitudes: But we must consider first, which is the Magnitude of the Relation of 8 to 2, or what is the Value of 8/2; and we shall find, that dividing 8 by 2, the Quotient of that Reason will be 4, or that 8/2 is equal to 4. We must likewise see which is the Magnitude of the Relation of 6 to 3; and finding it equal to 2, we shall discover, that those two Reasons, 8/2 equal to 4, and 6/ [...] equal to 2, differ only by 2: So to make them even, we may either add 6/3 to 6/3, equal to 2▪ which will make [...]2/3, that is, a Relation equal to 8/2; or subtract 4/2, equal to 2, from 8/2, which will make 4/2, that is, a Relation equal to 6/3; or lastly, adding the Unite to 6/3, and sutracting it from 8/2, we shall have 9/3 and 6/2, which are equal Relations; for 9 is to 3, as 6 to 2.

Lastly, To find out the Greatness of Inequality betwixt Relations, proceeding, one from a Compounded Reason, or from the Relation of a Relation of 12 to 3, and 3 to 1; and the other from a Compounded Reason, or from the Relation of a Relation, as of 8 to 2, and 2 to 1; we must follow the same Method. First, The Magnitude of the Reason of 12 to 3, is marked by 4; 4 being the Quotient of the Reason of 12 to 3, and 3 the Quotient of that of 3 to 1; and the Quotient of Reason of the Quotients 4 and 3, is 4/3. Secondly, The Quotient of 8 to 2, is 4; and that of 2 to 1, is 2; and the Quotient of the Quotients 4 and 2, is 2: So that the Inequality betwixt the Relations, that here result from the Relations of the Relations, is the Difference betwixt 4/2 and 2, that is to say, [...]/3: And therefore add 2/ [...] to the Relation of the Reasons 12 to 3, and 3 to 1; or subtract them from the Relations of the other Reasons, 8 to 2, and 2 to 1; and you'll make even those Relations of Relations, and produce a Compounded Proportion. Thus we may use Additions and Subtractions to equal Magnitudes, and their Relations both simple and compounded; and likewise to frame an accurate Idea of the Greatness of their Inequality.

True it is, that we use also Multiplications and Divisions, both simple and compounded; but they are only Compound Additions and Subtractions. To multiply 4 by 3, is to make as many Additions of 4, as 3 contains Unites; or to find a Number that has the same Relation to 4, as 3 with the Unite. To divide 12 by 4, is to subtract 4 from 12 as often as possible; that is, to find a Relation to the Unite, that may be equal to that of 12 to 4; for 3, which is the Quotient, has the same Relation to 1, as 12 has to 4. The Extractions of the Square, Cubick, and other Roots, are but Divisions, to find out one, two, or three mean proportional Magnitudes.

'Tis evident, that the Mind of Man is so narrow, his Memory so unfaithful, and his Imagination so shallow, that, without the use of Figures, and Writing, and the Skill of Arithmetick, it would be impossible to make the necessary Operations, to know the Inequality of Magnitudes, and their Relations, especially where many Numbers must be added or subtracted; or, which is the same thing, when those Numbers are very great, and can be added but by Parts: For some of them would still be forgotten, there being no Imagination so extended, as to add together very great Fractions, as 4723/1203, 12431/17240122; or to subtract one from the other.

Multiplication, Division, and the Extraction of Roots in entire Numbers, are infinitely more puzling, than simple Additions or Subtractions. The Mind alone, without the help of Arithmetick, is too shallow and weak to make such Operations; and it would be to no purpose to insist upon the Proofs of it.

Notwithstanding, Analyticks, or Algebra, is still more excellent than Arithmetick; because it less divides the Capacity of the Mind, and abridges the Ideas in the most simple and easie manner imaginable. What may be done in a long time by Arithmetick, is performed in a moment by Algebra, without puzling the Mind by the Change of Cyphers; and the Tediousness of Operations. And lastly, There are knowable Things, and necessary to be known, of which Arithmetick alone cannot afford the Knowledge; but I believe not that there is any Thing useful, and which may be certainly and exactly known, but it may be found out by an Arithmetical and Algebraical Method. So that those two Sciences are the Foundation of all others, and help us to the true Means to acquire all those that are accurate, because the Capacity of the Mind cannot be better managed than it is by Arithmetick, and especially by Algebra.

THE SECOND PART OF THE SIXTH BOOK, Concerning METHOD.

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CHAP. I.

Of the Rules that are to be observed in the Search after Truth.

HAving explain'd the means how to improve the Attention and Extension of the Mind, by which alone it may acquire a greater perfection, that is, become more enlightned, sagacious and piercing; it is time to set down those Rules, the Observation whereof is absolutely necessary to resolve any Question whatsoever. I shall insist long upon it, and endeavour to explain them by several Instances; that their necessity may be better known, and the Mind accustomed to make use of them; it being not so difficult or necessary, to know them theoretically, as to put them in Practice.

Let none expect here very extraordinary, surprizing and abstruse things: For on the contrary, that those Rules may be good, they must be very simple, natural and few, very plain and intelligible, and depending on each other; in short, such as may lead our Mind, and rule our Attention, without distracting either: For Experience shews that the Logick of Aristotle is of no great use, because it takes up the Mind too much, and disturbs the Attention it ought to give to the Subjects of its Enquiry. Let then those Lovers of Mysteries and rare Inventions lay aside for a while that capricious humour, and consider, as attentively as they can, whether the Rules we shall prescribe are sufficient to preserve Evidence in the Preceptions of the Mind, and to discover the most hidden Truths. Unless they suffer themselves to be unjustly prejudiced against those Rules, by the simplicity and easiness of the same, I hope that the great use which may be made of them, as we shall shew hereafter, will convince them, that the most clear and simple Principles are the most pregnant and fecund, and that rare and difficult things are not always so useful as our fruitless Curiosity endeavours to persuade us.

The Principle of all those Rules is, that we must always preserve Evidence in our Reasonings, to discover Truth without Fear, and danger of being mistaken. From that Principle follows this general Rule, that respects the Subject of our Studies: We ought only to Reason upon such things, whereof we have clear and distinct Ideas; and by a necessary consequence, we must still begin with the most simple and easie Subjects, and insist long upon them, before we undertake the Enquiry into such as are more composed and difficult.

The Rules that concern the Method to be taken in resolving Questions, depend likewise on the same Principle; and the first of those Rules is, that we must very distinctly conceive the State of the Question proposed to be resolv'd: that is, have Ideas of the Terms so distinct, as that we may compare them together, and discover the Relations which we look for.

When those Relations cannot be found out by an immediate comparison of their Ideas, then the second Rule is, that we must try by an Essay of Thought to discover one, or several intermediate Ideas, that may be a means or common measure to discover the Relations that are betwixt those things. A special care is to be taken that those Ideas be the more clear and distinct, as the Relations we endeavour to discover are more nicely exact and numerous.

When the Questions are very difficult, and require a long Examination, the third Rule is, that we must carefully take off from the Subject to be consider'd, all things whose Examination is not needful to the Discovery of the Truth we are in quest of. For the Capacity of the Mind must not be vainly shar'd and divided, but its strength must only be employed in such things as may enlighten it; so that all those things which are to be laid aside, are such as concern not the Question, and which, when taken off, leave it whole and entire.

When the Question is thus brought within the least compass, the fourth Rule is, to divide the Subject of our Meditations into Parts, and consider them one after the other in a natural order; beginning with the most simple, or those that contain the least number of Relations, and never medling with the more composed, before the most simple are distinctly known, and become familiar.

[Page]When they are become familiar by Meditation, the fifth Rule is, to abridge Ideas and dispose them in the Imagination, or write them upon Paper, that they may no longer clog and fill up the Capacity of the Mind. Though that Rule be always useful, yet 'tis not of absolute necessity; unless it be in very intricate Questions, that require a great extent of Mind, (for the Mind is only enlarg'd by the abridgment of Ideas). But the use of that Rule and the following, is best known by Algebra.

The Ideas of all the things that necessarily require Examination, being clear, familiar, abridg'd, and disposed and ranged in good order in the Imagination, or written upon Paper, the sixth Rule is, to compare them all by the Rules of Complications, one with the other alternately, either by the View of the Mind alone, or by the Motion of the Imagination, attended with the View of the Mind, or by the Calculation of the Pen joined to the attention of the Mind and Imagination.

If amongst all the Relations that result from those Comparisons, you find not that which you enquire after, then take off again all the Relations that are not subservient to resolve the Question, make the others familiar, abridge them, posture and dispose them in the Imagination, or write them upon Paper, compare them together by the Rules of Complications, and then see whether the composed Relation that is look'd for, is one of the composed Relations that result from those new Comparisons.

If none of those new discover'd Relations contain the Solution of the Question, then take off again those that are useless, make the other familiar, &c. [That is, doe the same over and over, and] continuing thus, you shall discover the Truth or Relation you enquire after, how composed soever it may be; provided you can extend the Capacity of your Mind to it, by abridging your Ideas, and still in all your Operations having before your Eyes the Scope you aim at. For 'tis the continual and steady view of the Question which must regulate all the advances of the Mind; since we should always know whither we are going.

We must above all take care not to satisfie our selves with some glimpse or likelyhood; but begin anew so often the Comparisons that are conducible to discover the Truths enquired after, as that we may not withold our Assent to it, without feeling the secret Lashes and Reproofs of our internal Master that Answers our Questions, that is, the Application of our Mind, and the Desires of our Heart. Then will that Truth serve as an infallible Principle, to proceed in the Acquisition of Sciences.

All the Rules we have given are not necessary in all sorts of Questions: for the first Rule is sufficient in those that are easie: and we need but in some others the first and second. In short, since we must make use of those Rules, 'till we have discover'd the Truth we seek for; it follows, that the more difficult the Questions are, the greater must the number of those Rules be which we must put in practice.

Those Rules are not very numerous, but very natural, as depending upon each other, and may be made so familiar as to fall of themselves into the Mind, as often as shall be requisite. In short, they can rule the Attention of the Mind without dividing it, which is in great part what we could desire; but they look so inconsiderable in themselves, that to make them more recommendable, it is necessary to shew that the Philosophers are fallen into a great many Errours, and Extravagancies, by not observing so much as the two first, which are the chief and easiest of all; whereas Des Cartes, by their use, has discover'd all those great and fruitful Truths, which are to be learn'd in his Works.

CHAP. II.

Of the general Rule that concerns the Subject of our Studies: That School-Philosophers observe it not, which is the Cause of several Errours in their Physicks.

THE first of these Rules, and which respects the Subject of our Studies, teaches, that we must not argue, except from clear Ideas; whence it follows, that to study methodically, we must begin with things most simple and easie to be understood, and insist long upon them, before we undertake to enquire after the more composed and difficult.

Every one will easily grant the necessity of that general Rule; plainly seeing, that he walks in the dark, who reasons upon obscure Ideas, and uncertain Principles. But 'twill be matter of surprize to hear us affirm, that it is hardly ever observed; and that the greatest part of those Sciences, which still at this day flush the Pride of some false Pretenders to Science, are only grounded upon such Ideas, as are either too confused, or too general, to be conducible to the finding out of Truth.

Aristotle, who so justly deserves the Quality of Prince of such Philosophers, (as being the Father of that Philosophy which they so studiously cultivate,) reasons very seldom upon other Ideas, than such as are confused and sensible, and upon others that are general, undetermin'd, and representing nothing particular to the Mind. For the ordinary Expressions of that Philosopher are so perplexed, as to represent only to the Senses and Imagination, the confused Sentiments we have of sensible things; or to make his Disciples speak in such a rambling and indeterminate manner, [Page] as not to understand themselves. Most of his Works, but especially his Eight Books of Physicks, on which are as many different Commentators as there are Professors of Philosophy, are a mere Logical Tattle, where he talks much, and says nothing: Not that his Stile is too copious and diffused, but because he has a particular Talent at being succinct, and saying nothing but Words. In his other Works he makes not such frequent use of his loose and general Terms; but those he employs raise only the confused Ideas of the Senses; by which Ideas he pretends, in his Problems, and elsewhere, to resolve in two Words an infinite Number of Questions, of which it may be demonstrated that they are altogether insoluble.

But that my Meaning may be better understood, what I have proved in other Places must here be remembred, viz. That all the Terms that excite nothing but sensible Ideas, are equivocal; nay, and what's to be well observ'd, Equivocal from Errour and Ignorance, which must needs cause an infinite number of Delusions.

The Word Ram is equivocal, signifying an Animal that ruminates, and a Constellation into which the Sun enters at Spring; but that seldom causes any Mistake: For he must be an Astrologer with a Witness, who should imagine any Relation betwixt those two Things, and believe, for instance, that we are subject at that time to vomit up the Medicines that we take, because the Ram is a ruminating Beast. But as to the Terms of sensible Ideas, but few acknowledge them for Equivocal. Aristotle and the Ancient Philosophers did not so much as dream on't; which will be agreed to by any one that has read any of their Books, and distinctly knows the Cause why those Words are liable to Equivocation. For nothing is more evident, than that the Philosophers Opinion, as to that Matter, was quite contrary to the Truth.

For instance: When they say, that Fire is hot, Grass green, Sugar sweet; they understand, just as Children, and the vulgar of Men, that Fire contains in it what they feel when they warm themselves; that Grass has painted upon it the Colours they see; that Sugar is endued with that Sweetness they taste when they eat it; and so as to all other visible and sensible Qualities; which cannot be denied by those that have read their Writings. They talk of sensible Qualities as of Sensations; they take Heat for Motion. And thus, by the Equivocation of Terms, they confound the Modes of Existence peculiar to Bodies, with the Modifications of the Soul.

'Tis no longer since than Des Cartes's time, that to those confused and indeterminate Questions, Whether Fire is hot, Grass green, and Sugar sweet, &c. we use to answer by distinguishing the Equivocation of sensible Terms that express them. If by Heat, Colour, and Savour, you understand such and such Dispositions of Parts, or Motion of insensible Particles, then Fire is hot, Grass green, and Sugar sweet. But if by Heat, and other Qualities, you understand what I feel when near the Fire, what I see when I see Grass, &c. Fire is not hot, nor Grass green, &c. For the Heat I feel, and the Colours I see, are only in the Soul, as has been proved in the First Book. But as Men commonly suppose, that what they feel is the same with that which is in the Object; so they believe they are in the right, when they judge of the Qualities of Objects by their own Sensations: And thus they hardly say two Words without speaking a Falsehood, and never say any thing upon that Matter, but what is obscure and confused; and that for the several following Reasons.

First, Because all Men have not the same Sensations of the same Objects, nor even the same Man in different Times, or when different Parts of his Body are affected by them. What is sweet to one, is bitter to another; what is hot to one, is cold to another; what seems hot to a Man when he is cold, feels cold to himself when he is hot, or when other Parts of his Body are affected. Water, that feels warm to the Hands, will seem cold if we wash with it any Part near the Heart. Salt, that is savoury to the Tongue, is pricking and smarting to a Wound. Sugar is sweet, and Aloes very bitter to the Tongue; but nothing is either sweet or bitter to the other Senses: So that when we say, a Thing is cold, sweet, bitter, &c. that same has no certain Signification.

Secondly, Because different Objects can cause the same Sensation. Plaister, Bread, Snow, Sugar, Salt, &c. are of the same Colour; and yet their Whiteness is different, if we judge of 'em otherwise than by the Senses: And therefore when we say, that Meal is white, we say not any thing distinctly significative.

The third Reason is, Because such Qualities of Bodies as occasion Sensations altogether different, are however almost the same; whereas such as excite very near the same Sensation, are often very different. The Qualities of Sweetness and Bitterness differ but little in Objects; whereas the Sense of Sweet essentially differs from that of Bitter. The Motions that cause Smart and Tickling, differ but in more or less; and yet the Sensations of Tickling and Smart are essentially different. On the contrary, the Sharpness of Fruit differs not so much from Bitterness, as Sweetness does; however, that sharp Quality is the farthest from Bitterness that possibly can be: For, a Fruit that is sharp for being unripe, must undergo a great many Changes, before it grows bitter from Rottenness, or too much Ripeness. When Fruits are ripe, they taste sweet; and bitter, when over-ripe: Bitterness and Sweetness therefore in Fruits differ but in degree of more and less; which may be the Reason why they seem sweet to some Persons, whilst they taste bitter to others: Nay, there are those to whom Aloes seem as sweet as Honey. The same may be said of all sensible Ideas; so that the Words Sweet, Bitter, Salt, Sowre, Acid, &c. Red, Green, Yellow, &c. of such and such a Smell, Savour, Colour, &c. are all equivocal, and raise no clear and distinct Idea in the Mind. However, School-Philosophers, and the vulgar part of Men, judge of all the sensible Qualities of Bodies by the Sensations they receive from them.

[Page]Nor do the Philosophers only judge of these sensible Qualities by their own Sensations of them; but also judge of the Things themselves, from the Judgments they have pass'd about sensible Qualities: For, from their having had Sensations of certain Qualities essentially different, they judge that there is a Generation of new Forms, producing those fantastick Differences. Wheat appears yellow, hard, &c. Meal, white, soft, &c. Thence, upon the Testimony of their Eyes and Hands, they infer, That those Bodies are essentially different, unless they chance to think on the Manner of the Transmutation of Wheat into Flower: For Meal is nothing but bruised and ground Corn; as Fire is only divided and agitated Wood; as Ashes are but the grossest Parts of the divided Wood without Agitation; as Glass is but Ashes, whose Particles have been polished and rounded by the Attrition caus'd by the Fire: And so in other Transmutations of Bodies.

'Tis therefore evident, that sensible Words and Ideas are altogether unserviceable to a just stating, and clear resolving of Questions; that is, to the Discovery of Truth. Yet there are no Questions, how intricate soever they may be, by the equivocal Terms of the Senses, but Aristotle, and most part of other Philosophers, pretend to resolve them in their Books, without the foregoing Distinctions, and without considering that they are equivocal by Errour and Ignorance.

If, for example, those Persons who have employed the best part of their Life in reading Ancient Philosophers and Physicians, and have wholly imbib'd their Spirit and Opinions, are ask'd whether Water be wet, whether Fire be dry, Wine hot, the Blood of Fishes cold, Water rawer than Wine, Gold perfecter than Mercury; whether Plants and Beasts have Souls; and a thousand like undetermin'd Questions; they rashly answer, by consulting only the Impressions of Objects upon their Senses, or the Tracks the reading of Authors has left upon their Memory. They never think those Terms are equivocal; 'tis a Wonder to them they should need a Definition; and they cannot endure those that endeavour to let 'em understand, that their Procedure is too quick, and that they are seduced by their Senses; and though they are never at a loss for Distinctions to perplex the most evident Things, yet in these Questions, in which Equivocation needs so much to be removed, they find nothing to distinguish.

If we consider, that most of the Questions of Philosophers and Physicians contain some equivocal Terms, like to those that have been spoken of; we shall not doubt, but that those Learned Gentlemen, that could not define them, were unable to say any Thing solid and real, in the bulky Volumes they have compos'd: Which is, in a manner, sufficient to overthrow most of the Opinions of the Ancients. It is not so with Des Cartes; he perfectly knew how to distinguish those Things: He ne'er resolves any Question by sensible Ideas; and whoever shall be at the pains to read him, shall see, that he clearly, evidently, and almost ever demonstratively, explains the chief Operations of Nature by the sole and distinct Ideas of Extension, Figures, and Motion.

The second sort of equivocal Words, that is much in request amongst Philosophers, contains all those general Terms of Logick by which any Thing may be easily explain'd, without so much as knowing it. Aristotle was the Man that made the most of it; his Books are full of nothing else, and some are but a mere Logick: He proposes and resolves all Things by the specious Words of Genus, Species, Act, Power, Nature, Form, Faculty, Quality, Causa per se, Causa per accidens: His Followers can hardly understand that those Words signifie Nothing, and that one is not more learned than he was, when he has heard, that Fire dissolves Metals by its dissolving Faculty; that a Man digests not, because his Stomach is weak, or because his Concoctive Faculty does not operate as it should do.

I grant, that those who use such general Terms and Ideas for the Explication of all Things, commonly fall not into so many Errours, as those that only employ such Words as raise the confused Ideas of the Senses. The School-Philosophers are not so liable to be deceived, as some opinionative and dogmatical Physicians, who build Systems upon Experiments, the Reasons of which are unknown to them; because the School-men talk so generally, that they do not venture much out of their Depth.

Fire heats, dries, hardens, and softens, because it has the Faculty of producing those Effects: Sena purges by its purgative Quality: Bread nourishes by its nutritious Quality. These Propositions are not liable to mistake; for a Quality is that which denominates a Thing by such a Name; Master Aristotle's Definition is undeniable: But he speaks true only because he says nothing; and if his rambling, loose, and indefinite Notions engage not into Errour, at least they are wholly unserviceable to the Discovery of Truth.

For, though we know that there is in Fire a substantial Form, attended with a Million of Faculties, like to that of heating, dilating, melting Gold, Silver, and other Metals, lightening, burning, roasting; the Idea of that substantial Form, with all its Faculties of producing Heat, Fluidity, Rarefaction, will not help me to resolve this Question, Why Fire hardens Clay, and softens Wax? There being no Connection betwixt the Ideas of Hardness in Clay and Softness in Wax, and those of a substantial Form in Fire, and its Faculties of Rarefaction, Fluidity, &c. The same may be said of all general Ideas; which are utterly insufficient for resolving any Question.

But when I know that Fire is nothing else but divided Wood, whose Parts are in a continual Agitation, by which alone it raises in me the Sensation of Heat; and that the Softness of Clay consists in a Mixture of Water and Earth; those Ideas being not general and confused, but particular and distinct, it will not be difficult to perceive that the Heat of Fire must harden Clay, nothing being easier to conceive, than that one Body may move another, if it meet with it, being it self in Motion. We likewise easily perceive, that since the Heat we feel near the Fire is caused [Page] by the Motion of the invisible Particles of Wood striking against our Hands, Face, &c. if we expose Clay to the Heat of Fire, the Particles of Water, that are mixed with those of Earth, being more thin and disunited, and consequently more agitated by the Action and Impulse of the fiety Corpuscles, than the gross Particles of Earth, must be separated and expelled, and the other remain dry and hard. We shall perceive with the same Evidence, that Fire must produce a quite contrary Effect upon Wax, if we know that it is composed of Particles that are branched, and almost of the same Bulk. Thus may particular Ideas be subservient to the Enquiry after Truth, whilst loose and undeterminate Notions are not only altogether unserviceable, but also insensibly engage us into Errour.

For, these Philosophers are not content to make use of those general Terms, and uncertain Ideas which answer to them; they moreover pretend, that those Words signifie some particular Beings; they give out, that there is a Substance distinguished from Matter, which is the Form of it; and withal, an infinite Number of little Beings, really distinguished from that Matter and Form, of which they suppose as many as they have different Sensations of Bodies, or as those Bodies are supposed to produce different Effects.

However, 'tis visible to any attentive Person, that those little Beings, for instance, that are said to be distinguished from Fire, and suppos'd to be contained in it for the producing Heat, Light, Hardness, Fluidity, &c. are but the Contrivances of the Imagination, that rebells against Reason; since Reason has no particular Idea that represents those little Beings. When the Philosophers are asked, What is the illuminating Faculty in Fire? They only answer, That 'tis a Being which is the Cause that Fire is capable of producing Light. So that their Idea of that illuminating Faculty differs not from the general Idea of Cause, and the confused Idea of the Effect they see; and therefore they have no clear Idea of what they say, when they admit those particular Beings; and so say what they not only understand not, but what's impossible to be understood.

CHAP. III.

Of the most dangerous Errour in the Philosophy of the Ancients.

PHilosophers not only speak without understanding themselves, when they explain the Effects of Nature by some Beings of which they have no particular Idea; but also establish a Principle whence very false and pernicious Consequences may directly be drawn.

For, supposing with them, that there are in Bodies certain Entities distinguished from Matter, and having no distinct Idea of those Entities; 'tis easie to imagine, that they are the real or principal Causes of the Effects we see. And this is the very Opinion of the vulgar Philosophers. The prime Reason of their supposing those substantial Forms, real Qualities, and other such like Entities, is, to explain the Effects of Nature: But when we come attentively to consider the Idea we have of Cause or Power of acting, we cannot doubt but that it represents something Divine: For, the Idea of a Sovereign Power is the Idea of a Sovereign Divinity; and the Idea of a subordinate Power, the Idea of an inferiour Divinity, yet a true Divinity; at least, according to the Opinion of the Heathens, supposing it to be the Idea of a true Power or Cause. And therefore we admit something Divine in all the Bodies that surround us, when we acknowledge Forms, Faculties, Qualities, Virtues, and real Beings that are capable of producing some Effects by the force of their Nature; and thus insensibly approve of the Sentiments of the Heathens, by too great a Deference for their Philosophy. Faith indeed corrects us; but it may perhaps be said, that the Mind is a Pagan, whilst the Heart is a Christian.

Moreover, it is a hard Matter to persuade our selves, that we ought neither to fear nor love true Powers and Beings, that can act upon us, punish us with some Pain, or reward us with some Pleasure. And as Love and Fear are a true Adoration, it is hard again to imagine why they must not be ador'd: For, whatever can act upon us as a true and real Cause, is necessarily above us, according to Reason and St. Austin; and, by the same Reason and Authority, 'tis likewise an immutable Law, That inferiour Beings should be subservient to superiour: Whence that great Father concludes, That the Body cannot operate upon the Soul Ego enim ab anima h [...]c corpus animari non pu [...]o, nisi intentione [...]acientis: nec ab isto quicquam illam pati arbitror, sed facere de illo, & in illo, tanquam subjecto divinitus dominationi suae. l. 6. Mu [...]c. c. 5. See also De quantit. Anim. c. 34., and that nothing can be above her but God only.

The chief Reasons that God Almighty uses in the Holy Scriptures, to prove to the Israelites, that they ought to adore, that is, to love and fear him, are drawn from his Power to reward or punish them; representing to them the Benefits they have received from him, the Punishments he has inflicted upon them, and his Power that is always the same. He forbids them to adore the Gods of the Heathens, as such as have no Power over them, and can doe them neither harm nor good. He commands them to honour him alone, as the only true Cause of Good and Evil, Reward and Punishment;Amos 3.6. none of which can befal a City, according to the Prophet, but what comes from him, by reason that natural Causes are not the true Causes of the Hurt they seem to doe us; and as it is God alone that acts in them, so 'tis He alone that must be fear'd and lov'd in them: Soli Deo Honor & Gloria.

[Page]Lastly, The Sense of fearing and Loving what may be the true Cause of Good and Evil, appears so natural and just, that it is not possible to cast it off. So that in that false Supposition of the Philosophers, which we are here endeavouring to destroy, that the surrounding Bodies are the true Causes of our Pain and Pleasure; Reason seems to justifie a Religion like the Pagan Idolatry, and approve the universal Depravation of Morals.

Reason I grant, teaches not, to adore Onions and Leeks, for instance, as the Sovereign Divinity; because they can never make us altogether happy when we have them, or unhappy when we want them: neither did the Heathens worship them with an equal Homage as their great Jupiter, whom they fansied to be the God of Gods; or as the Sun, whom our Senses represent as the universal Cause, that gives Life and Motion to all things, and which we can hardly forbear to look on as the Sovereign Divinity, if we suppose, as the Pagan Philosophers, that he Comprehends in his Being, the true Causes of what he seems to produce, as well upon our Soul and Body, as upon all the Beings that surround us.

But if we must not pay a Sovereign Worship to Leeks and Onions, they deserve, at least, some particular Adoration; I mean they may be thought upon and loved in some manner, if it be true, that they can in some sort make us happy, and may be honour'd proportionably to the good they doe us. Surely Men that listen to the Reports of Sense, think Pulse capable of doing them good; otherwise the Israelites would not have bewailed the loss of them in the Wilderness, or look'd on themselves as unhappy, for being deprived thereof, had they not fansied to themselves some great Happiness in the Enjoyment of them. See what an Abyss of Corruption Reason plunges us into, when it goes hand in hand with the Principles of Pagan Philosophy, and follows the footsteps of the Senses.

But that the Falshood of that wretched Phylosophy, and the Certainty of our Principles, and Distinctness of our Ideas may not be longer doubted; it will be necessary plainly to establish the Truths that contradict the Errours of the Ancient Philosophers, or to prove in few words, that there is but one true Cause, since there is but one true God; that the Nature and Force of every thing is nothing but the Will of God; that all Natural things are not real, but only occasional Causes; and some other Truths depending on them.

It is evident, that all Bodies, great and little, have no force to move themselves: a Mountain, a House, a Stone, a Grain of Sand, the minutest and bulkiest Bodies imaginable, are alike as to that. We have but two sorts of Ideas, viz. of Spirits and Bodies; and as we ought not to speak what we conceive not, so we must only argue from those two Ideas. Since therefore our Idea of Bodies, convinces us that they cannot move themselves, we must conclude that they are moved by Spirits. But considering our Idea of finite Spirits, we see no necessary Connexion betwixt their Will, and the Motion of any Body whatsoever; on the contrary, we perceive that there is not nor can be any. Whence we must infer, if we will follow Light and Reason, That as no Body can move it self, so no Created Spirit can be the true and principal Cause of its Motion.

But when we think on the Idea of God, or of a Being infinitely perfect, and consequently Almighty, we are aware that there is such a Connexion betwixt his Will and the Motion of all Bodies, that it is impossible to conceive he should will that a Body be moved, and it should not be moved. And therefore if we would speak according to our Conceptions, and not according to our Sensations, we must say that nothing but his Will can move Bodies. The moving force of Bodies is not then in themselves, this force being nothing but the Will of God: Bodies then have no proper Action, and when a moving Ball meets with another, and moves it, the former communicates nothing of its own to the latter, as not having in it self the Impression it communicates; though the former be the Natural Cause of the latter's Motion; and therefore a natural Cause is not a true and real Cause, but only an occasional; which in such or such a Case determines the Author of Nature to act in such or such a manner.

'Tis certain that all things are produced by the Motion of visible or invisible Bodies; for Experience teaches us, that those Bodies, whose parts are in greater Motion, are always the most active, and those that Cause the greatest Alterations in the World: so that all the Forces of Nature are but the Will of God, who Created the World; because he will'd it, who spake and it was done Psal. 33▪ 9.; who moves all things, and produces all the Effects we see, because he has established some Laws, by which Bodies Communicate their Motion to each other when they meet together; and because those Laws are efficacious, they and not the Bodies act. There is then no Force, Power, nor true Cause in all the Material and sensible World: Nor need we admit any Forms, Faculties, or real Qualities to produce Effects, which the Bodies bring not forth, or to divide with God his own Essential Force and Power.

As Bodies cannot be the true Causes of any thing; so likewise the most Noble Spirits are subject to the same impotency on that respect: They cannot know any thing, unless God enlightens them; nor have the Sensation of any thing, unless he modifies them; nor will, unless he moves them towards himself: They may indeed determine the Impression God has given them to himself, towards other Objects; but I doubt whether it can be call'd a Power. For if to be able to sin is a Power, it is such a one, as the Almighty wants, saith St. Austin somewhere. If Men had of themselves the Power of loving Good, it might be said that they have some Power; but they cannot so much as love, but because God Wills it, and that his Will is Efficacious. They love, because God continually drives them towards Good in general, that is, towards himself, for whom alone they are Created and preserved. God moves them, and not themselves, towards Good in general: and they only follow that Impression by a free Choice, according to the Law of God, [Page] or determine it towards false and seeming Goods, according to the Law of the Flesh; But they cannot determine it but by the sight of Good. For being able to doe nothing without an Impression from above, they are incapable of loving any thing but Good.

But though it should be supposed, which is true in one sense, that Spirits have in themselves the Power of knowing Truths, and loving Good; should their Thoughts and Will produce nothing outwardly, it might still be said, that they were impotent and unoperative. Now it seems undeniable, that the Will of Spirits is not able to move the smallest Body in the World; it being evident there is no necessary Connexion betwixt the Will we may have of moving our Arm, for instance, and the Motion of the same Arm. It moves indeed whenever we will it, and we may be call'd, in that sense, the natural cause of the Motion of our Arm; yet natural Causes are not true, but only occasional, as acting by the mere force and efficacy of the Will of God, as we have already explain'd.

For how is it possible for us to move our Arm? To perform this, 'tis requir'd we should have Animal Spirits, and send them through certain Nerves towards certain Muscles, to swell up and contract them, for so that Motion is perform'd, as some pretend, though others deny it, and assert that the Mystery is not yet discover'd. However it be, most Men know not so much as that they have Spirits, Nerves and Muscles, and yet move their Arms with as much and more dexterity than the most skilful Anatomists. Men therefore will the moving their Arm, but 'tis God that is able, and knows how to doe it. If a Man cannot overthrow a Tower, yet he knows what must be done to effect it: but not one amongst them knows what the Animal Spirits must doe to move one of his Fingers. How should they then move the whole Arm of themselves? These things appear very evident to me, and, I suppose, to all thinking Persons; though they may be incomprehensible to others, such as are only used to the confused voice of the Senses.

But Men are so far from being the true Causes of the Motions produc'd in their Body, that it seems to imply a Contradiction they should be so. For a true Cause is that betwixt which and its Effect, the Mind percieves a necessary connexion; for so I understand it. But there is none besides the infinitely perfect Being, betwixt whose Will and the Effects the Mind can perceive a necessary Connexion; and therefore none but God is the true Cause, or has a real Power of moving Bodies. Nay, it seems unconceivable, that God should communicate this Power, either to Angels or Men: And those that pretend that the Power we have of moving our Arm is a true Power, must by Consequence grant that God can give Spirits the Power of creating, annihilating, and doing all possible things; in short, that he can make them Almighty, as I am going to pove.

God needs not Instruments to act, 'tis enough he should Will the Existence of a thing, in order to its Existing; because it is contradictory that he should will a thing, and his Will should not be fulfilled. And therefore his Power is his Will, and to communicate his Power is to communicate his Will; so that to communicate his Will to a Man or an Angel, can signifie nothing else, but to will that whenever that Man or Angel shall desire that such or such a Body be moved, it may actually be moved. In which Case I see two Wills concurring together, that of God, and that of the Angel, and to know which of them is the true Cause of the Motion of that Body, I enquire which is the Efficacious. I see a necessary Connexion betwixt the Will of God, and the thing willed; in this Case God wills that whenever the Angel shall desire that such a Body be moved, it be really so. There is then a necessary Connexion betwixt the Will of God, and the Motion of that Body, and consequently God is the true Cause of that Motion, and the Will of the Angel is only occasional.

Again, to make it more evidently manifest, let us suppose God wills it should happen quite contrary to the Desire of some Spirits, as may be thought of the Devils, or some other wicked Spirits in Punishment of their Sins. In that Case it cannot be said God communicates his Power to them; since nothing happens of what they wish. However the Will of those Spirits shall be the natural Cause of the produced Effects: as such a Body shall be removed to the Right, because they wish it were moved to the Left; and the Desires of those Spirits shall determine the Will of God to act, as the Will of moving the Parts of our Body, determine the first Cause to move them; and therefore the Desires of all finite Spirits are but occasional Causes.

If, after all these Reasons, it be still asserted, that the Will of an Angel moving a Body is a true, and not a bare occasional Cause; 'tis evident, that the self-same Angel might be the true Cause of the Creation and Annihilation of all things, since God might as well communicate to him his Power of Creating, and annihilating Bodies, as that of moving them, if He should will that they should be created, and annihilated: in a word, if he will'd that all things should be performed according to the Angel's Desires, as he wills that Bodies be moved as the Angel pleases; if therefore it may be said, that an Angel or Man are true Movers, because God moves Bodies as they desire; that Man or Angel might likewise be call'd true Creatours, since God might create Beings on occasion of their Will: Nay, perhaps it might be said, that the vilest of Animals, or even mere Matter, is the real Cause of the Creation of some Substance; if it be supposed with some Philosophers, that God produces substantial Forms, whenever the Disposition of Matter requires it. And lastly, since God has resolved from all Eternity, to create some certain things, at some certain times; those Times might also be called the Causes of the Creation of such Beings; with as much right as 'tis pretended, that a Ball meeting with another is the true Cause of the Motion that is communicated to it; because God, by his general Will, that constitutes the Order of Nature, has decreed, that such or such Communication of Motions should follow upon the Concourse of two Bodies.

[Page]There is then but one true Cause, as there is one true God: Neither must we imagine, that what precedes an Effect does really produce it. God himself cannot communicate his Power to Creatures according to the Light of Reason; He cannot make them true Causes, and change them into Gods. But though he might doe it, we conceive not why he should will it. Bodies, Spirits, pure Intelligences, all can doe nothing. 'Tis he who has made Spirits, that enlightens and moves them; 'tis he who has created Heaven and Earth, that regulates all their Motions: In fine, 'tis the Authour of our Being that performs our Desires; Semel jussit, semper paret: He moves even our Arms, when we use them against his Orders; for he complains by his Prophets, That we make him subservient to our unjust and criminal Desires.

All those little Divinities of the Heathens, all those particular Causes of Philosophers, are Chimeras, which the wicked Spirit endeavours to set up, that he may destroy the Worship of the true God. The Philosophy we have received from Adam, teaches us no such things; but that which has been propagated by the Serpent; for, ever since the Fall, the Mind of Man is turned Heathen. That Philosophy, join'd to the Errours of the Senses, has made Men pay their Worship to the Sun, and is still the universal Cause of the Disorders of their Mind, and the Corruption of their Heart. Why, say they, by their Actions, and sometimes by their Words, should we not love Bodies, since they are able to afford us Pleasure? And why are the Israelites blam'd for lamenting the Loss of the Garlick and Onions of Egypt, since the Privation of those things, which enjoyed, afforded them some Happiness, made them in some sort unhappy? But the Philosophy that is mis-call'd New, and represented as a Bugbear to frighten weak Minds; that is despised and condemned without hearing: that New Philsosophy, I say, (since it must have that name,) destroys all the Pretences of the Libertines, by the establishing its very first Principle that perfectly agrees with the first Principle of the Christian Religion Haec est Religio Christiana, fratres mei, quae praedicatur per universum mundum horrentibus inimicis, & ubi vincuntur murmurantibus▪ ubi praevalent saevientibus; haec est Religio Christiana, ut COLATVR VNVS DEVS, NON MVLTI DII, QVIA NON FACIT ANIMAM BEATAM NISI VNVS DEVS. Aug. Tr. 23. in Joan., namely, That we must love and fear none but God, since none but He alone can make us happy.

As Religion declares that there is but one true God, so this Philosophy shews that there is but one true Cause. As Religion teaches that all the Heathen Divinities are but dead Metals, and immovable Stone; so this Philosophy discovers, that all the second Causes, or Divinities of the Philosophers, are but unactive Matter, and ineffective Wills. As Religion commands, not to bow to those Gods that are not Gods, so this Philosophy teaches, not to prostrate our Minds and Imagination before the phantastick Grandeur and Power of pretended Causes, which are not Causes: which we ought neither to love, nor to fear, nor be taken up with; but think upon God alone, see and adore, love and fear him in all things.

But that's not the Inclination of some Philosophers; they will neither see God, nor think upon him; for ever since the Fall there is a secret Opposition betwixt God and Man. They delight in Gods of their own Invention; in loving and fearing the Contrivances of their Heart, as the Heathens did the Works of their Hands. They are like those Children, who tremble at the sight of their Play-Fellows, after they have dawb'd and blacken'd them. Or, if they desire a more noble Comparison, though perhaps not so just, they resemble those famous Romans, who reverenced the Fictions of their Mind, and foolishly adored their Emperours, after they themselves had let loose the Eagle at their Canonization.

CHAP. IV.

An Explication of the Second Part of the General Rule: That the Philosophers observe it not, but that Des Cartes has exactly followed it.

WE have been shewing to what Errours Men are liable, when they reason upon the false and confused Ideas of the Senses, and their rambling and undetermin'd Notions of Logick; whence it appears, that to keep to Evidence in our Perceptions, 'tis absolutely necessary exactly to observe that Rule we have prescrib'd; and to examine which are the clear and distinct Ideas of things, that we may only argue by deduction from them.

In that same general Rule, concerning the Subject of our Studies, there is yet a remarkable Circumstance; namely, That we must still begin with the most simple and easie things, and insist long upon them, before we undertake the Enquiry after the more composed and difficult. For if, to preserve Evidence in all our Perceptions, we must only reason upon distinct Ideas, 'tis plain that we must never meddle with the Enquiry of compound things, before the simple, on which they depend, have been carefully examin'd, and made familiar to us by a nice Scrutiny; since the Ideas of compound things, neither are, nor can be clear, as long as the most simple, of which they are composed, are but confusedly and imperfectly known.

We know things imperfectly, when we are not sure to have considered all their Parts: and we know them confusedly, when they are not familiar enough to the Mind, though we may be certain of having consider'd all their Parts. When we know them but imperfectly, our Argumentations are only probable: when we perceive them confusedly, there is neither Order not Light [Page] in our Inferences; and often we know not where we are, or whither we are going: But when we know them both imperfectly and confusedly, which is the commonest of all, we know not so much as what we would look for, much less by what Means we are to find it: So that it is altogether necessary to keep strictly to that Order in our Studies, Of still beginning by the most simple Things, examining all their Parts, and being well acquainted with them, before we meddle with the more composed, that depend on the former.

But that Rule agrees not with the Inclination of Man, who naturally despises whatever appears easie; his Mind being made for an unlimited Object, and almost incomprehensible, cannto make a long Stay on the Consideration of those simple Ideas, which want the Character of Infinite, for which he is created. On the contrary, and for the same Reason, he has much Veneration, and an eager Passion, for great, obscure, and mysterious Things, and such as participate of Infinity: Not that he loves Darkness; but that he hopes to find in those deep Recesses a Good, and Truth capable of satisfying his Desires.

Vanity likewise gives a great Commotion to the Spirits, stirring them to what is great and extraordinary, and encouraging them with a foolish Hope of hitting right. Experience teaches, that the most accurate Knowledge of ordinary Things gives no great Name in the World; whereas to be acquainted with uncommon Things, though never so confusedly and imperfectly, always procures the Esteem and Reverence of those who willingly conceive a great Idea of whatever is out of their depth of Understanding: And that Experience determines all those who are more sensible to Vanity than to Truth, (which certainly make up the greatest Number) to a blind-fold Search of a specious, though chimerical, Knowledge of what is great, rare, and unintelligible.

How many are there that reject the Cartesian Philosophy, for that ridiculous Reason, That its Principles are too simple and easie: There are in this Philosophy no obscure and mysterious Terms; Women, and Persons unskill'd in Greek and Latin, are capable of learning it. It must then be, say they, something very inconsiderable, and unworthy the Application of great Genius's. They imagine, that Principles so clear and simple are not fruitful enough to explain the Effects of Nature, which they supposed to be dark, intricate, and confused: They see not presently the Use of those Principles, that are too simple and easie to stop their Attention long enough to make them understand their Use and Extent. They rather chuse to explain Effects whose Causes are unknown to them, by unconceivable Principles, than by such as are both simple and intelligible. For the Principles these Philosophers are wont to explain obscure Things by, are not only obscure themselves, but utterly incomprehensible.

Those that pretend to explain Things extremely intricate, by Principles clear and generally receiv'd, may easily be refuted, if they succeed not; since to know whether what they say be true, one needs only comprehend well what they say. The falsely-learn'd are not pleased with this, and obtain not the Admiration they pursue in using intelligible Principles; for, as soon as one understands their Notions, he plainly perceives that they say nothing: But when they make use of unknown Principles, and speak of very complex'd Things as though they exactly knew all their Relations, they are admired by their Hearers, who understand not what they say; because we are naturally inclin'd to reverence whatever goes above the reach of our Understanding.

Now, as obscure and incomprehensible Things seem to hang better with each other, than with such as are clear and intelligible; so incomprehensible Principles are much more made use of in very difficult and abstruse Questions, than such as are easie and intelligible. There is nothing so difficult, but, by the means of these Principles, Philosophers and Physicians will solve it in few Words; for their Principles being yet more incomprehensible than any Questions that can be proposed them, those Principles being taken for granted, no Difficulty can afterwards put them to a Nonplus.

Thus, for instance, they boldly, and without boggling, make answer to these dark and undetermin'd Questions, viz. Why the Sun attracts Vapours? Why the Peruvian Bark stops the Quar [...]an Ague? Why Rhubarb purges Choler, and the Polychrest-Salt Phlegm? and the like. Most Men seem pretty well satisfied with their Answers, because obscure and incomprehensible Things shake Hands together: But unintelligible Principles suit not Questions that may be clearly and easily resolv'd, because by that Solution it plainly appears, that they are altogether insignificant. The Philosophers cannot explain, by their Principles, How Horses draw a Coach? Why Dust stops a Watch? How the Trepoly-Stone cleanses Metals, and a Brush our Clothes? For, they would appear ridiculous to all the World, should they suppose a Motion of Attraction, and Attractive Faculties, to explain why the Coach follows the Horses; and a Detersive Faculty in the Brush, for cleansing of Clothes, &c. So that their great Principles are only serviceable in dark and intricate Questions, by reason of their Incomprehensibility.

We ought not therefore to insist upon any Principle that appears not plain and evident, and of which it may be supposed, that some Nations reject it: But we must attentively consider the Ideas we have of Extension, Figure, and Local Motion, and the Relations they have between them: If we conceive them distinctly, and find them so plain and clear, as to be persuaded they were ever generally received by all Nations, we must dwell upon them, and examine all their Relations: But if they seem obscure and dark to us, we must endeavour to find others. For, if to avoid the Fear of Mistakes and Errours, it is always requisite to preserve Evidence in our Percep [...]ions, it follows, that we must argue only from clear Ideas, and from Relations distinctly known.

[Page]To consider in order the Properties of Extension, we must, as Des Cartes did, begin with the most simple Relations, and thence proceed to the more composed; not only because this Method is the most natural, and bears up the Mind in its Operations; but also because God ever acting with Order, and by the most simple Ways, that sort of Examination of our Ideas, and their Relations, will better manifest to us his Works. And if we consider, that the most simple Relations always offer themselves first to the Imagination, when 'tis not determin'd to think rather on one Thing than another, it will appear, that to find out that Order we prescribe, and to discover very composed Truths, it is sufficient to look attentively, and without prejudice, upon Objects; provided always we skip not too hastily from one Subject to another.

When we look attentively upon Matter, we easily conceive that one Part may be separated from another; that is to say, we easily conceive a Local Motion, which Motion produces a Figure in each of the Bodies moved. The most simple of all Motions, which first occurs to the Imagination, is a Motion in a Right Line. Supposing then, that some Part of Matter is moved in a Right Line, it will necessarily displace some other Portion of Matter it shall find in its way, which latter shall circularly move to take the Room which the former has left: Hence comes a Circular Motion. And if we conceive infinite Motions in a Right Line, in an infinite number of similar Parts of that immense Extension we consider, it will again necessarily follow, that all these Bodies mutually hindring each other, shall all conspire by their reciprocal Action and Re-action, that is, by the mutual Communication of all their particular Motions, to produce one that is Circular.

That first Consideration of the most simple Relations of our Ideas, already discovers to us the necessity of the Vortexes of Des Cartes, that their Number will be so much greater, as the Motions in a Right Line of all the Parts of the Extension, having been more contrary to each other, shall with more difficulty have been reduc'd to the same Motion; and that amongst those Vortexes, the greatest will be those in which most Parts shall have concurr'd together to the same Motion, or whose Parts shall have had more Strength to continue their Motion in a Right Line.

In the mean while, care must be taken not to dissipate nor weary our Mind, by vainly applying it to the vast Number and unmeasurable Greatness of those Vortexes: We must rather insist upon some one of them for some time, and orderly and attentively enquire after all the Motions of the Matter it contains, and all the Figures wherewith the Parts of that Matter may be endued.

As there is no simple Motion but that in a Right Line, we must first consider it, as that in which all Bodies cotinually tend to move themselves; since God always acts by the most simple Ways: And if Bodies move Circularly, 'tis only because meeting with constant Oppositions, they are perpetually turn'd from their direct Motion. So that all Bodies being not of an equal Bulk, and the biggest having more Strength than others to continue their Motion in a Right Line, we easily conceive, that the smallest Bodies must sink to the Centre of the Vortex, and the biggest rise towards the Circumference; since the Lines which moving Bodies are suppos'd to describe at the Circumference of a Circle, are nearer to a Right Line, than those which they describe towards the Centre.

If we conceive again, that every Part of that Matter could not at first move, and meet with a perpetual Opposition to its Motion, without being smooth'd and rounded, and having its Angles broken off; we shall discover, that all that Extension will be compos'd of two sorts of Bodies, viz. of round Globules, which perpetually turn upon their own Centre, and that in several different Ways, and, besides that particular Motion, are carried about by the Motion common to all the Vortex; and of a very fluid and agitated Matter, produced from the Motion of the foresaid Globules. Besides the Circular Motion common to all the Parts of the Vortex, that subtle Matter must yet have another particular, and almost direct, from the Circle of the Vortex to the Circumference, through the Intervals of the Globules, that leave a Passage open: So that the Motion composed of those Motions will represent a Spiral Line. That fluid Matter, call'd by Des Cartes, the first Element, being divided into Parts that are much smaller, and have not so much strength to continue their direct Motion, as the Globules, or second Element; 'tis evident, that the first Element must take up the Centre of the Vortex, and fill the empty Spaces which the Parts of the Second leave between them; and that the rest of the Vortex must be filled with those Parts of the Second, and come nearer to the Circumference, proportionably to their Bulk, or to the Force they have of continuing their Motion in a Direct Line. As to the Figure of the whole Vortex, after what has been said, it cannot be doubted, but that the Distance from one Pole to the other, will be shorter than that of the Line which cuts the Equator. And if we consider that the Vortexes surround and compress each other unequally, we shall plainly see that their Equator By Equator I understand the greatest Crooked Line which the Matter of the Vortex describes. is a crooked irregular Line, that comes near to an Ellipsis.

These are the Things that offer themselves naturally to the Mind, when we attentively consider what should happen to the Parts of Extension, perpetually tending to move in a Right Line, that is, in the most simple Motion. If we now suppose a Thing which seems most worthy the Divine Power and Wisdom, namely, That God has formed the whose Universe at once, in the same State those Parts would have naturally fallen into and disposed themselves in time, by the most simple Ways; and that he preserves them by the same natural Laws: In a word, if we compare our Ideas with the visible Objects, we shall conclude, that the Sun is the Centre of [Page] the Vortex; that the Corporeal Light, which it diffuses every where, is nothing but the continual Effort of the little Globules, tending to remove from the Centre of the Vortex; which Light must be communicated in an Instant through those vast Spaces, because they being full of those Globules, one cannot be press'd upon, without the Motion of all the others that are opposite to it.

Several other Consequences may be drawn from what has been said, because the most simple Principles are the most fruitful to explain the Works of a Being which always acts by the most simple Ways. But we still want to consider some Things that will be incident to Matter. Let us then imagine, that there are several Vortexes, like to that we have described in few Words; that the Stars, which are so many Suns, are the Centres of those Vortexes, which surround each other, and are disposed in such a manner, as that they hinder one anothers Motion the least they can; but that before Things came to that Perfection, the weakest Vortexes were carried away, and as it were swallowed up by the strongest.

To understand this, we need but suppose that the first Element, which is at the Centre, may fly, and perpetually flies out through the Intervals of the Globules, towards the Circumference of the Vortex; and that at the same time that this Centre or Star empties it self through the Equator, other Matter of the first Element comes into it through the Poles; for neither the Star nor its Poles can empty themselves at one side, without being fill'd at another, since there is no Vacuity in Extension. But as an infinite number of Causes may hinder a great Quantity of the first Element from coming into that Star, the Parts of the first Element that shall be forced to remain in it, will be necessitated to adapt themselves so, as to move one and the same way; which causes them to fasten and link themselves together, and constitutes them into Spots; which condensing and thickning into Crusts, cover by degrees the Centre; and out of the most subtil and agitated of all Bodies, are form'd into gross and solid Matter. This course sort of Matter is called by Des Cartes, the third Element, and is endued with an infinite number of Shapes and Figures, as is the first Element, from which it is generated and produced.

That Star being thus over-grown with Spots and Crusts, and become like the other Planets, has no longer a sufficient Strength to defend its Vortex against the continual Struggle and Irruptions of those that surround it; therefore it insensibly diminishes: The Matter that composes it, is dispersed on all sides, and the strongest of the neighbouring Vortexes carries the greatest part away, and at last involves the Planet that is the Centre of it. This Planet being wholly surrounded with the Matter of the great Vortex, swims along in it, only keeping, together with some of the Matter of its own Vortex, its former Circular Motion, and takes at last such a Situation, as puts it in Aequilibrio with an equal Quantity of the Matter in which it swims. If it has but little Solidity and Magnitude, it descends very near the Centre of the surrounding Vortex; because having no great Force to continue its Motion in a Right Line, it must take such a Place in that Vortex, as that an equal Quantity of the second Element, endeavouring to remove from the Centre, may be in Aequilibrio with it; that being the only Place where it can be exactly balanc'd. If that Planet be of greater Bulk and Solidity, it must seek its Aequilibrium in a Place more distant from the Centre of the Vortex. And lastly, If there is no Place in the Vortex, in which an equal Quantity of its Matter hath as much Solidity as this Planet, and consequently as much Strength to continue its Motion in a Direct Line, perhaps because the Planet shall be very bulky, and over-grown with very solid and condens'd Crusts; it shall not stop in that Vortex, as finding no Aequilibrium in the Matter that composes it; but pass from Vortex to Vortex, until it meets with a Place in which it may be equally balanced by a competent Quantity of Matter; so that it will sometimes be seen in its Passage, as the Comets are, when it shall be in our Vortex, and at a convenient Distance from us: But it will not be seen in a long time, when it shall be in other Vortexes, or in the utmost Boundary of ours.

If we hereupon conclude, that a single Vortex may, by reason of its Bulk, Strength, and advantageous Situation, insensibly undermine, involve, and carry away several Vortexes, and even such as shall have conquer'd others; it will necessarily follow, that the Planets that have been form'd in the Centre of the conquer'd Vortexes, being entered into the great and conquering Vortex, place themselves in Aequilibrio with an equal Volume of the Matter in which they swim: So that if those Planets are unequal in Solidity, they will float at unequal Distances from the Centre of the Vortex in which they swim. But if two Planets have very near the same Force to continue that Direct Motion; or if a Planet carries in its small Vortex one or several other smaller Planets, which it shall have conquer'd, according to our Way of conceiving the Formation of Things: Then the smallest Planets will turn about the greatest, whilst the greatest shall turn upon its own Centre; and all these Planets shall be carried by the Motion of the great Vortex, at a Distance very near equal from its Centre.

We are obliged, by the Light of Reason, to dispose in that Order the Parts that compose the whole Universe, which we imagine to have been formed by the most simple Ways. For all that had been said is only grounded on the Idea of Extension, the Parts of which are supposed to move in the most simple Motion, which is that in a Right Line. And when we examine by the Effects, whether we are mistaken in the Explication of Things by their Causes, we are surprized to see the Phenomaena of Celestial Bodies so perfectly agreeing with our Ratiocinations. For we perceive all the Planets that are in the middle of a small Vortex turning upon their own Centre, as the Sun does, and swimming in the Vortex of the Sun, and about the Sun; the smallest and least solid nearest to it, and the most solid at a greater distance. We likewise observe, that there are some, as the Comets, which cannot remain in the Vortex of the Sun: And lastly, that there [Page] are several Planets, which have other smaller turning about them, as the Moon does about the Faith: Jupiter has four of them, Mars has three, and perhaps Saturn has so many, and so small, that they resemble a continued Circle, of which the thickness cannot be perceived, because of their too vast distance. Those Planets being the biggest we can observe, it may be imagin'd, that they have been produced from Vortexes which had a sufficient strength to conque [...] others, before they were involved in the Vortex we live in.

All these Planets turn upon their own Centre, the Earth within 24. hours, Mars within 25. or thereabouts, Jupiter within about 10, &c. They all turn about the Sun, Mercury the nearest in about 4. Months; Saturn the remotest in about 30. Years, and those that are betwixt them in more or less time, which however keep not an exact proportion with their distance. For the matter in which they swim makes a swifter Circumvolution when 'tis nearer to the Sun, because the Line of its Motion is then shorter. When Mars is opposite to the Sun, he is then near enough to the Earth, but is at a vast distance from it when he is in Conjunction with him. The like may be said of the other superiour Planets, as Saturn and Jupiter; for the inferiour, as Venus and Mercury are, to speak properly, never opposite to the Sun. The Lines, which all the Planets seem to describe about the Earth, are no Circles, but are very like Ellipses, which Ellipses seem very much to differ, because of the different Situation of the Planets in reference to us. In short, whatever may be observed with any certainty in the Heavens, touching the Motion of the Planets perfectly agrees with what has been said of their Formation by the most simple ways.

As to the fixed Stars, Experience teaches us, that some diminish and entirely vanish away, whilst others that are wholly new appear; the lustre and bulk of which sensibly increase. They increase or diminish proportionably as the Vortexes, in whose Centre they lye, admit more or less of the first Element. We cease to see them when they are overspread with Spots and Crusts, and begin to discover them, when those Spots, which obstruct their lustre, are entirely dissipated. All these Stars keep very near the same distance from each other, since they are Centres of Vortexes which are not conquer'd, and remain Stars as long as they can resist the Invasion of others. They are all bright like as many little Suns, because they are all, as he is, the Centers of unconquer'd Vortexes. They are all at an unequal distance from the Earth, though they appear as if they were fastned to a Vault; for if the Parallaxe of the nearest with the remotest has not yet been observable, by the different situation of the Earth from 6 to 6 Months; it is because that difference is too inconsiderable in reference to our distance from the Stars, to make that Parallaxe sensible. Perhaps by means of the Telescopes, it will one day or other become somewhat observable. In short, whatever the Senses and Experience may observe in the Stars, differs not from what we have discover'd by the Mind, whilst we examin'd the most simple and natural Relations that are betwixt the Parts and the Motions of Extension.

To search after the Nature of Terrestrial Bodies; we must conceive that the first Element being made up of an infinite number of different Figures, the Bodies that result from their Mixture must be very different. So that there will be some whose Parts shall be branched, others long, others very near round, but all irregular, several ways. When their Parts are branched and gross, they are hard, but flexible, and not elastick, as Gold: If their Parts be not so gross, they are soft, and fluid, as Gums, Fats, Oyles; but if their branched Parts be extremely fine, they are like the Air. If the long Parts of Bodies are gross and inflexible, they are pungent, incorruptible, and dissolvible, as Salts; if those long Parts be flexible, they are insipid like Water; if the gross Parts be of very irregular and different Figures, they are like Earth and Stones. In short, thence must needs arise Bodies of several different Natures, and two will hardly be found exactly alike, by reason of the infinite number of Figures incident to the first Element, which can never be complicated after the same manner in two different Bodies. What Figure soever those Bodies may have, if their Pores be large enough to give way to the second Element's passing all manner of ways, they will be transparent like Air, Water, Glass, &c. If the first Element entirely surrounds some of their Parts and affords them a sufficient force and commotion to repel the second Element on all sides, they will appear Luminous like flame; if they drive back all the second Element that falls upon them, they will be very white; if they receive it without repelling it, they will be very black; and lastly, if they repel it by several Concussions and Vibrations, they will appear of different colours.

As to their Situation, the heaviest, or those that have least force to continue their direct Motion, will be the nearest to the Centre, as are Metals: Earth, Water and Air, will be more remote, and all Bodies will keep the same Situation in which we observe them; because they will recede from the Centre of the Earth, as far as their Motion will allow.

It must not seem strange that I now say, that Metals have less force to continue their direct Motion, than Earth, Water, and other less solid Bodies, though I have formerly said, that the most solid Bodies have more strengh than others to continue their direct Motion. For the Reason why Metals are not so apt to continue to move, as Earth and Stones, is that Metals have less Motion in themselves; it being true however, that of two Bodies unequal in solidity, but moved with an equal swiftness, that the most solid will have more force to pursue its Motion in a right Line; because the most solid has then the greater Motion, and that Motion is the Cause of strength.

But if we would understand the Reason why Bodies, gross and solid, are heavy towards the Center of Vortexes, but light at a considerable distance from it; we must know, that these Bodies receive their Motion from the subtle matter that invirons them, and in which they swim. Now that subtle matter actually moving in a Circular Line, and only tending to move in a right Line; [Page] it only Communicates that Circular Motion to the gross Bodies it carries along with it: and as to its tendency to remove from the Centre in a Right Line, it only communicates that to them as far as it is a necessary sequel of the Circular communicated Motion. For it must be observed, that the Parts of the subtle matter tending to different sides, can only compress the gross Body they convey; since that Body cannot go several different ways at the same time. But because the subtle Matter, that lies about the Centre of the Vortex, has a far greater Motion than that which it spends in circulating, and because it communicates only its Motion Circular, and common to all its Parts, to the gross Bodies which it carries; and that if these Bodies should chance to have more Motion than what is common to the Vortex, they would soon lose that overplus, by communicating it to the little Bodies they meet with; thence 'tis evident, that gross Bodies, towards the Centre of the Vortex, have not so much Motion as the Matter in which they swim; each part of which has its own particular and various Motion, besides the Cicular and common. Now if gross Bodies have less Motion, they have less Tendency to move in a right Line, and if they have less Tendency, they are forc'd to yield to those that have more, and consequently to approach the Centre of the Vortex, that is, in short they must be heavyer, as they are more gross and solid.

But when solid Bodies are very remote from the Centre of the Vortex, as the Circular Motion of the subtle Matter is then very great, because it spends very near its whole Motion in wheeling about; Bodies have then so much more Motion as they have more Solidity; because they go as swift as the subtle Matter in which they swim: and so they have more force to continue their direct Motion. Wherefore gross Bodies at a certaine distance from the Centre of the Vortex, are so much lighter as they are more solid.

This makes it apparent, that the Earth is metallick towards the Centre, and not so solid about the Circumference; that Water and Air must remain in the Situation wherein we see them; but that all those Bodies are That is, are driven towards the Centre of the Earth. ponderous; the Air as well as Gold and Quick-silver; because they are more solid and gross than the first and second Element. This shews likewise that the Moon is at too great a distance from the Centre of the Vortex of the Earth to be heavy, though it be solid; that Mercury, Venus, the Earth, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, cannot fall into the Sun, and that they are not solid enough to travel out of this Vortex, as the Comets do; that they are in Aequilibrio with the Matter in which they swim, and that if a Musket Ball, or a Cannon Bullet, could be shot high enough, those two Bodies would become little Planets, or perhaps Comets, that would not stay in any Vortex, as being endued with a competent Solidity.

I pretend not to have sufficiently explain'd all the things I have mention'd, or to have deduced from the simple Principles of Extension, Figure and Motion all the possible Inferences, I only intended to shew the Method Des Cartes has used in the discovery of Natural things, that this Method and his Ideas may be compared with those of other Philosophers; I design'd here no more, and yet I may venture to assert, that if one would supersede admiring the Virtue of the Loadstone, the regular Motion of the ebbing and flowing of the Sea, the noise of Thunder, the Generation of Meteors; in short, if any desire to get a well-grounded Knowledge of Natural Philosophy, as he can doe nothing better than to read and medi [...]ate his Books; so he can doe nothing at all, unless he follows his Method, I mean unless he Reason as he did, upon clear Ideas, still beginning with the most simple and familiar.

Neither do I pretend that this Author is Infallible; for I think I can demonstrate that he has been mistaken in several places of his works. But 'tis more advantageous for his Readers to believe that he hath been deceived, than if they were persuaded that whatever he said was true: A Man that should take him to be infalible would read him without Examination, believe him without understanding what he says, learn his Opinions as we learn History, and would never form and perfect his Mind. He himself advertises his Readers to observe whether he be deceived, and to believe nothing of what he says, but what the Evidence compells them to. For he is not like those false pretenders to Science, who endeavouring to Lord it over the Minds, will be believed upon their own word; and who instead of making Men the Disciples of the inward Truth, by proposing only clear and distinct Ideas, labour what they can to submit them to the Authority of Heathens, and press upon Men incomprehensible Opinions by unintelligible Reasons.

The chief thing that is found fault with in Des Cartes's System, is the manner in which he feigns that the Sun, Stars, Earth, and all the Bodies that surround us, have been produced; forasmuch as it seems contrary to what Holy Writ teaches us of the Creation of the World; since, according to him, one would say, that the whole Universe has been formed of its own accord, so as we see it now a-days; to which several Answers may be made.

First, As to the pretended Contrarieties betwixt Moses and Des Cartes, those that assert it, have not perhaps examin'd them both, with as much Attention as those who have shewn, by publick Writings, that the sacred History of the Creation perfectly agrees with the opinion of that Philosopher.

But the chief Answer is, that Des Cartes never pretended that things should ever have been made by degrees, and as he describes them. For at the first Article of the Fourth Part of his Philosophical Principles, which runs thus: That the former Hypothesis is to be retain'd, notwithstanding its being false, to find out the true Causes of natural Things; he expresly asserts the contrary in these words. Though I pretend not that the Bodies of this visible World were ever produced in the manner that has been described before, of which the Reader has been already sufficiently forewarn'd; yet I must still keep to the same Hypothesis, to explain what appears upon Earth; For if I may, as I hope I can, plainly shew by those means the most intelligible and certain Causes of all Natural[Page]things, and they cannot be found out another way; I may thence reasonably conclude, that though the World was not at the Beginning fram'd in this manner, but created immediately by God, yet the Nature of all things it contains ceases not to be the very same, as though they had been produced in that very method.

Des Cartes knew that to understand the Nature of things, they must be consider'd in their Birth and Original, and that beginning with those that are most simple, we ought to drive them up to the Fountain head, and that the business is not to examine, whether God working by the most simple ways, formed the World by degrees, or struck it out at a single Blow; but that, in what manner soever God may have produced his Works, they ought to be first consider'd in their Principles, if we would understand them, and afterwards we should observe, how consistent our thoughts are with the Operations of God, by comparing them together. He knew that the Laws of Nature, by which God preserves all his Works in their present Order and Situation are the same Laws, with those by which he might have formed and disposed them; It being evident to all considering Men, that if God had not disposed his Works in an instant, in the same manner they would have order'd and postur'd themselves in time; the whole Oeconomy of Nature would be destroy'd, since the Laws of Preservation would be contrary to those of the first Creation. If the whole Universe remains in the Order in which we see it, 'tis because the Laws of Motion which preserve it in that Order, were capable of producing it in it; and if God had established it in an Order different from that into which those Laws of Motion should have put it, all things would be turned upside down, and place themselves by the force of those Laws, in the Order which they at present keep.

A Man desires to discover the Nature of a Chicken, to that end he opens every day Eggs taken from under a Brood-Hen; he examines what part moves and grows first, he quickly perceives that the Heart begins to beat, and to drive out Blood through small Conduits on all sides, that are the Arteries; which Blood comes back to the Heart through the Veins, that the Brain likewise appears at first, and that the Bones are the last formed. By that he frees himself from many Errours, and even draws from those Observations several Consequences very useful for the Knowledge of living Creatures. What fault may be found with the conduct of such a Man, and how may it be given out, that he pretends to persuade, that God formed the first Chicken, by creating an Egg, and giving it a competent degree of heat to hatch it? because he tries to discover the Nature of Chickens in their first Formation?

Why then should Des Cartes be accused of being opposite to the Holy Scriptures, for that designing to discover the Nature of visible things, he examines the formation of them by the Laws of Motion, which are inviolably observ'd on all occasions. He never Princ. Part. 3. §. 45. doubted but that the World was created at first with all its perfection; that there were Sun, Earth, Moon and Stars; that in the Earth there were not only the Seeds of Plants, but also the Plants themselves; and that Adam and Eve were not born Infants, but made adult. The Christian Faith teaches us that, and natural Reason persuades us the same; for when we consider the infinite Power of God, we cannot think he should ever have made any thing which was not altogether perfect. But as we should better understand the nature of Adam and Eve, and the Trees of Paradise, by examining how Children are insensibly form'd in their Mothers Womb, and how Plants are deriv'd from their Seeds, than by merely considering how they were when Created by God at the Creation of the World; so if we can find out Principles very simple and easie, out of which, as out of some Seeds, we can manifestly shew the Stars, the Earth, and all visible things might have been produced; though we very well know that it was never so, (yet) that will be more conducible to explain their Nature, than if we should only describe them so as they now are, or as we believe they were Created, and because I suppose I have found out such Principles, I shall indeavour briefly to Explain them.

Des Cartes was persuaded that God formed the World all at once; but he also believed that God Created it in the same State and Order, and with the same Disposition of Parts, in which it would have been, had it been made gradually, and by the most simple ways. And that thought is worthy both of the Power and Wisdom of God; of his Power, because he has made in a Moment all his Works in the highest Perfection; and of his Wisdom, because he has shewn that he perfectly foresaw whatever could befall Matter, if it were moved by the most simple ways: and likewise because the Order of Nature could not subsist, if the World had been produced by ways, that is, by Laws of Motion, contrary to the Laws by which it is preserv'd, as I have already mention'd.

'Tis ridiculous to say, that Des Cartes believed the World might have been formed of it self, since he owns with all those that follow the light of Reason, that Bodies cannot move themselves by their own strength; and that all the immutable Laws of the Communication of Motions are but consequences of the immutable Will of God, who always acts in the same manner. His proving that God alone gives Motion to Matter, and that Motion produces in Bodies all their different Forms, was sufficient to hinder the Libertines from making an Advantage of his System. On the contrary, if Atheists should reflect on the Principles of this Philosopher, they would quickly be forced to confess their Errours; for if they can assert, with the Heathens, that Matter is uncreated, they cannot also maintain that it can move it self by its own Power: So that Atheists would at least be obliged to acknowledge the true Mover, if they refused to confess the true Creatour. But the Ordinary Philosophy affords 'em sufficient pretences to blind themselves, and defend their Errours; for it speaks of some impress'd Virtues, certain motive Faculties, in a word, of a certain Nature which is the Principle of Motion in every thing; [Page] And though they have no distinct Idea of it, yet by reason of the Corruption of their Heart, they willingly put it in the room of the true God, imagining that it performs all the Wonders that they see occur.

CHAP. V.

An Explication of the Principles of the Peripatetick Philosophy, in which is shewn, that Aristotle never observed the Second Part of the General Rule; and his Four Elements, with the Elementary Qualities, are examined.

THat the Reader may compare the Philosophy of Des Cartes with that of Aristotle, it will be convenient to set down in few words what the latter has taught concerning Elements and Natural Bodies in general; which the most learned believe he has done in his Four Books Of the Heavens. For his Eight Books of Physicks belong rather to Logick, or perhaps to Metaphysicks, than to Natural Philosophy; since they consist of Nothing but loose and general terms, that offer no distinct and particular Idea to the Mind. Those Four Books are entituled Of the Heavens, because the Heavens are the chief amongst the simple Bodies which he treats of.

That Philosopher begins his Work by proving that the World is perfect, in the following manner. All Bodies have three Dimensions and cannot have more, because the number three comprehends all, according to the Pythagoreans. But the World is the Coacervation of all Bodies, and therefore the World is perfect. By that ridiculous Proof, it may also be demonstrated, that the World cannot be more imperfect than it is, since it cannot be composed of parts that have less than three Dimensions.

In the Second Chapter, he first supposes some Peripatetick Truths, as that all Natural Bodies have of themselves the force of moving, which he proves neither here nor elsewhere; but on the contrary asserts, in the First Chapter of his Second Book of Physicks, that to endeavour to prove it is absurd, because 'tis evident of it self, and that none but those who cannot distinguish what is known of it self from what is not, insist upon proving plain by obscure things. But it has been shewn elsewhere, that it is altogether false that natural Bodies should have of themselves the force of moving, and it appears evident only to such as follow, with Aristotle, the Impressions of their Senses, and make no use of their Reason.

Secondly, He says that all local Motion is made in a Line, either direct or circular, or composed of both; but if he would not think upon what he so rashly proposes, he ought at least to have open'd his Eyes that he might see an Infinite number of different Motions, which are not made of either the right or circular: Or rather he ought to have thought that the Motions composed of the direct may be infinitely varied, when the compounding Motions increase or diminish their swiftness in an infinite number of different ways, as may be observed by what has been said before Sup. Ch. 4.. There are, says he, but two simple Motions, the right and the Circular, and therefore all the others are composed of them. But he mistakes, for the Circular Motion is not simple, since it cannot be conceived, without thinking upon a Point to which it relates, and whatever includes a Relation is relative and not simple. This is so true that the Circular Motion may be conceived as produced from two Motions in a right Line, whose Swiftness is unequal, according to a certain Proportion. But a Motion composed of two others, made in a right Line, and variously increasing or diminishing in swiftness, cannot be simple.

Thirdly, He says that all the simple Motions are of three sorts, one from the Centre, the other towards the Centre, and the third about it. But 'tis false that the last, viz. the Circular Motion should be simple, as has been already said. And 'tis false again that there are no simple Motions besides upwards and downwards. For all the Motions in a right Line are simple, whether they approach to, or remove from the Centre, the Poles, or any other Point. Every Body, says he, is made up of three Dimensions, and therefore the Motion of all Bodies must have three simple Motions. What Relation is there betwixt simple Motions and Dimensions? Besides, every Body has three Dimensions, and none has three simple Motions.

Fourthly, He supposes that Bodies are either simple or composed, and calls simple Bodies, those that have the force of moving themselves, as Fire, Earth, &c. adding, that the compounded receive their Motion from the compounding. But in that sense there are no simple Bodies, since none have in themselves any Principle of their Motion: there are also none composed, since there are no simples of which they should be made; and so there would be no Bodies at all. What Fancy is it, to define the simplicity of Bodies by a Power of moving themselves. What distinct Ideas can be fixed to the Words of simple and composed Bodies, if the simple are only defined in Relation to an Imaginary moving force? But let us see what Consequences he draws from those Principles. The Circular Motion is simple. The Heavens move Circularly, and therefore their Motion is simple: But simple Motion can be ascribed only to a simple Body, that is to say, to a Body that moves of it self; And therefore the Heavens are a simple Body distinguished from the four Elements, that move in right Lines. 'Tis plain enough that such Arguments contain nothing but false and absurd Propositions. Let us examine his other Proofs, for he alleadges a great many shameful and nonsensical ones, to prove a thing as useless as it is false.

[Page]His second Reason to shew that the Heavens are a simple Body distinguished from the Four Elements, supposes that there are two sorts of Motion, one natural, and the other violent or against Nature. But 'tis sufficiently plain to all those that judge of things by clear and distinct Ideas, that Bodies having not in themselves any such Principle of their Motion as Aristotle pretends, there can be no Motion violent or against Nature. 'Tis indifferent to all Bodies to be moved or not, either one way or another. But this Philosopher, who judges of things by the Impressions of the Senses, imagines that those Bodies, which by the Laws of the Communications of Motions, always place themselves in such or such a Situation, in reference to others, doe it of their own accord, and because it is most convenient for them, and best agrees with their Nature. Here follows the Argument of Aristotle.

The Circular Motion of the Heavens is natural, or against Nature. If natural, the Heavens are a simple Body distinguished from the Elements, since the Elements never move circularly by a natural Motion. If the Circular Motion of the Heavens is against their Nature, they will be some one of the Elements, as Fire, Water, &c. or something else. But the Heavens can be none of the Elements: as for instance, if the Heavens were Fire, that Element tending naturally upwards, the Heavens would have two contrary Motions, viz. the circular and the ascending, which is impossible. If the Heavens be some other Body, which moves not circularly by its own Nature, they will have some other natural Motion, which cannot likewise be; for if that Motion be ascending, they will be Fire or Air; and if descending, Water or Earth: Therefore, &c. I shall not insist upon shewing the particular Absurdities of those Reasonings, but only observe in general, that all that which this Philosopher here says, has no signification, and that there is neither Truth nor Inference well drawn. His third Reason is as follows.

The first and most perfect of all simple Motions must be that of a simple Body, and of the first and most perfect among simple Bodies. But the circular Motion is the first and most perfect amongst simple Motions, because every circular Line is perfect, and that no right Line is so. For if it be finite, something may be added to it; if infinite, it is not yet perfect, since it has no end [...] and [...] make a Pun in Greek, as in English Finis and finished. Thus that Philosopher proves, that an infinite Line is not perfect, because 'tis not finished., and that things are not perfect but when they are finished; and therefore the circular Motion is the first and most perfect of all, and a Body moving circularly is simple, and the first and most Divine amongst simple Bodies. Here you have his fourth Reason.

Every Motion is either natural, or not; but every Motion which is not natural to some Bodies, is natural to some others: For, we see that the ascending and descending Motions, which are not natural to some Bodies, are so to others; for Fire naturally descends not, but Earth does. Now the Circular Motion is not natural to any of the Four Elements; there must then be a simple Body to which that Motion is natural; and therefore the Heavens, which move Circularly, are a simple Body, distinguished from the Four Elements.

Lastly, The Circular Motion is either natural or violent to some Body or other: If it be natural, 'tis evident that Body must be one of the most simple and perfect: But if it be against Nature, 'tis strange how that Motion endures for ever; since we see that all Motions against Nature are of a short continuance. And therefore we must believe, after all those Reasons, that there is some Body separated from all those that environ us, whose Nature is the more perfect, as it lies at a greater distance. Thus argues Aristotle; but I defie the best and most intelligent of his Interpreters to fix distinct Ideas to his Words, and to shew that this Philosopher begins with the most simple Things, before he speaks of the more composed; which is however altogether necessary to exact Reasonings, as I have already proved.

If I were not afraid of being tedious, I would be at the pains to translate some Chapters of Aristotle: But besides that none who can understand him, care to read him in English, or in any other vulgar Tongue, I have sufficiently shewn, by what I have related from him, that his Way of Philosophizing is wholly unserviceable to the Discovery of Truth: For, he says himself, in the Fifth Chapter of this Book, That those that mistake at first in any thing, mistake ten thousand times more, if they proceed: So that it being apparent, that he knows not what he says in the two first Chapters of his Book, we may reasonably believe, that it is not safe to yield to his Authority, without examining his Reasons. But that we may be the more persuaded of it, I proceed to shew, that there is no Chapter in this First Book but has some Impertinency.

In the Third Chapter he says, That the Heavens are incorruptible, and uncapable of Alteration; of which he alledges several Childish Proofs, as, that they are the Habitation of the Immortal Gods, and that no Change was ever observed in them. This last Proof would be good enough, could he say, that ever any Body was come back from thence, or that he had approached Celestial Bodies sufficiently near to observe their Alterations. And yet I doubt whether at this time any one should yield to his Authority, since Telescopes assure us of the contrary.

In the Fourth Chapter he pretends to prove, That the Circular Motion has no Opposite; though it be plain, that the Motion from East to West is contrary to that which is made from West to East.

In the Fifth Chapter he very weakly proves, That Bodies are not Infinite; drawing his Arguments from the Motion of simple Bodies: For what hinders, but there may be above his Primum mobile some unmovable Extension.

In the Sixth, he loses time in shewing, That the Elements are not Infinite: For, who can doubt of it, when he supposes, with him, that they are included within the surrounding Heavens? [Page] But he ridicules himself, by drawing his Proofs from their Gravity and Lightness. If Elements, says he, were Infinite, there would be an Infinite Heaviness and Lightness; which cannot be: Ergo, &c. Those that desire to see his Arguments at length, may read them in his Books; for I reckon it a loss of Time to relate them.

He goes on in the Seventh Chapter to prove, That Bodies are not Infinite; and his first Argument supposes it necessary for every Body to be in Motion, which he neither does nor can demonstrate.

In the Eighth he asserts, That there are not many Worlds of the same Nature, by this ridiculous Reason, That if there were another Earth besides this we inhabit, the Earth being ponderous of its own nature, it would fall upon ours, which is the Centre of all ponderous Bodies. Whence has he learned this, but from his Senses?

In the Ninth he proves, That it is not so much as possible that there should be several Worlds, because if there was any Body above the Heavens, it would be simple or composed, in a natural or violent State; which cannot be, for Reasons which he draws from the Three sorts of Motions already spoken of.

In the Tenth he asserts, That the World is Eternal, because it cannot have had a Beginning, and yet last for ever; because we see, that whatever is made, is corrupted in Time. He has learned this likewise from his Senses: But who has taught him, that the World will always endure?

He spends the Eleventh Chapter in explaining what Incorruptible signifies; as though Equivocation was here very dangerous, or that he was to make a great Use of his Explanation. However, that Word Incorruptible is so clear of it self, that Aristotle needed not have troubled himself with explaining in what Sense it must be taken, or in what Sense he takes it. It had been more convenient to define an infinite Number of Terms, very usual with him, which raise nothing but sensible Ideas; for so perhaps we should have learned something by the reading of his Works.

In the Last Chapter of this First Book of the Heavens, he endeavours to shew, That the World is incorruptible, because 'tis impossible it should have had a Beginning, and yet last eternally. All Things, says he, subsist either for a finite or infinite Time; but what is only infinite in one sense, is neither finite nor infinite, and therefore nothing can subsist in that Manner.

This is the way of arguing with the Prince of Philosophers, and the Genius of Nature; who, instead of discovering, by clear and distinct Ideas, the true Cause of natural Effects, lays the Foundation of a Pagan Philosophy upon the false and confused Ideas of the Senses, or upon such Ideas as are too general to be useful to the Search after Truth.

I condemn not Aristotle for not knowing that God has created the World in Time, to manifest his Power, and the Dependency of Creatures; and that he will never destroy it, to shew that he is immutable, and never repents of his Designs: But I may find fault with him for proving, by trifling Reasons, that the World is of Eternal Duration. For, though he be sometimes excusable as to the Opinions he maintains, yet he's for the most part intollerable as to the Reasons he alledges, when he treats of Subjects that are somewhat difficult. What I have already said, may perhaps be sufficient to evince it; though I have not related all the Errours I have met with in the Book whence the former are extracted, and that I have endeavour'd to make him speak plainer than is customary with him.

But for an entire and full Conviction, that the Genius of Nature will never discover the secret Springs and Contrivances of it, it will be convenient to shew, that his Principles, upon which he reasons for the Explication of natural Effects, have no Solidity in them.

'Tis evident that nothing can be discover'd in Physicks, without beginning with the most simple Bodies; that is, with the Elements; into which all others are resolv'd, because they are De Coelo, l. 3. c. 3. contain'd in them either actually or potentially, to speak in a Peripatetick Stile. But no distinct Explication of those simple Bodies can be found in the Works of Aristotle; whence follows, that his Elements being not clearly known, 'tis impossible to discover the Nature of Bodies which are compos'd of them.

He says indeed, that there are four Elements, Fire, Air, Water and Earth; but he gives no clear Manifestation of their Nature, by any distinct Idea: He pretends not that those Elements are the Fire, Air, Water and Earth that we see; for if it were so, our Senses at least would afford us some Knowledge of them. I grant that in several places of his Works he endeavours to explain them by the Qualities of Heat and Cold, Moisture and Dryness, Gravity and Levity. But that Method is so impertinent and ridiculous, that it cannot be conceiv'd how so many Learned Men could be satisfied with it; which I proceed to demonstrate.

Aristotle pretends in his Book of the Heavens, that the Earth is the Centre of the World, and that all Bodies which he is pleas'd to call simple, because he supposes that they are mov'd by their own Nature, must move by simple Motions. He asserts, that besides the Circular Motion, which he pretends to be simple, and by which he proves that the Heavens, which he supposes to move circularly, are a simple Body, there are two other simple Motions; one downwards, from the Circumference to the Centre; and the other upwards, from the Centre to the Circumference: That those simple Motions are proper to simple Bodies, and consequently that Earth and Fire are such Bodies; one of which is altogether heavy, and the other perfectly light. But because Gravity and Levity may be proper to a Body, either wholly, or in part, he concludes that there are two other Elements, or simple Bodies, one of which is partly light, and the other partly ponderous, viz. Water and Air. Thus he proves that there are four Elements, and no more.

[Page]It is plain to all those who examine the Opinions of Men by their own Reason, that all those Propositions are false, or cannot at least be taken for clear and undeniable Principles, which may afford very plain and distinct Ideas, whereon to lay the Foundation of Natural Philosophy. 'Tis certain that nothing can be more absurd, than to establish the Number of Elements upon the imaginary Qualities of Heaviness and Lightness; saying, without any farther Proof, that some Bodies are ponderous, and others light, of their own Nature: For if any thing may be asserted without Proof, it may be said that all Bodies are naturally heavy, and endeavour to approach the Centre of the World, as the place of their Rest. And the contrary may be asserted too, viz. That all Bodies are light of their own Nature, and tend to rise to the Heavens, as to the place of their greatest Perfection. For if you object to him who maintains the Gravity of Bodies, that Fire and Air are light; he needs but answer, that Fire and Air are not light; but that being less ponderous than Earth and Water, they seem to us to be light: And that it goes with those Elements, as with a piece of Wood that appears light upon the Water; not by reason of any natural Levity, since it falls down when in the Air; but because Water being heavier, seizes the lower Place, and forces it to ascend.

On the contrary, If you object to him that defends the natural Levity of Bodies, that Earth and Water are ponderous; he will likewise answer, That those Bodies seem heavy, because they are not so light as those that surround them: That Wood, for instance, appears to be ponderous when in the Air, not because of its natural Gravity, since it ascends when in the Water, but because it is not so light as Air.

And therefore 'tis ridiculous to suppose, as an undeniable Principle, that Bodies are either light or heavy of their own Nature; it being, on the contrary, evident, that none has the Force of moving it self, and that 'tis indifferent to be moved either upwards or downwards, to the East or to the West, to the South or to the North, or in any other possible manner.

But let us grant to Aristotle, That there are four Elements, such as he pretends; two of which are heavy, viz. Earth and Water; and the two other light of their own Nature, viz. Fire and Air; what Consequence may be drawn from thence, for the Knowledge of the Universe? Those four Elements are not the visible Fire, Air, Water and Earth, but something quite different, which we know neither by the Senses, nor by Reason, having no distinct Idea of them. Let all natural Bodies be compos'd of them, since Aristotle has said it: But the Nature of those Compounds is still unknown, and cannot be discovered, but by knowing the four Elements, or the simple Bodies of which they are made, since the Composed is known only by the Simple.

Fire, says Aristotle, is light by its own Nature; the ascending Motion is simple: Fire is therefore a simple Body, since Motion must be proportion'd to the Moveable. Natural Bodies are compos'd of simple, there is then Fire in all natural Bodies, but a Fire which is not like to that we see; for Fire is often but in potentia in the Bodies that are made of it. What signifie all these Peripatetick Discourses? That there is Fire in all Bodies, either actual or potential, that is to say, that all Bodies are compos'd of something we see not, and the Nature of which is wholly unknown unto us. Now we have made a very fair Progress.

But though Aristotle shews us not the Nature of Fire, and other Elements, of which all Bodies are made up; yet one may imagine, that he will at least discover their principal Qualities and Properties. Let us also examine what he says upon that Account.

He declares that there are four principal Qualities which belong to the Sense of Touching,L. 2. & 3. de Gene. & Corrup. viz. Heat, Cold, Humidity and Siccity; of which all the other are compos'd. He distributes those primitive Qualities into the four Elements, ascribing Heat and Dryness to Fire, Heat and Moisture to the Air, Cold and Moisture to Water, and Cold and Dryness to Earth. He asserts that Heat and Cold are active Qualities; but that Dryness and Moisture are passive. He defines Heat, What congregates Things of the same kind; Cold, What congregates Things either of the same, or of different Species; Moisture, What cannot easily be contain'd in its own Limits, but is easily kept within foreign Bounds; and Dryness, What is easily contain'd within its own Limits, but will hardly be adapted to the Bounds of surrounding Bodies.

Thus, according to Aristotle, Fire is a hot and dry Element, and therefore congregates Homogeneous Things, is easily contain'd within its own Limits, and hardly within others: Air is a hot and moist Element, and therefore congregates Homogeneous Things, can hardly be kept within its own Limits, but easily within others: Water is a cold and moist Element, and therefore congregates both Homogeneous and Heterogeneous Things, is hardly contain'd within its own Limits, but easily within others: And lastly, Earth is a cold and dry Element, or such an one as aggregates Things, both of the same and different Natures, is easily contain'd within its own Limits, but can hardly be adapted to others.

There you have the Elements explain'd, according to the Opinion of Aristotle, or the Definitions he has given of their principal Qualities; and because, if we may believe him▪ the Elements are simple Bodies, out of which others are constituted; and their Qualities are simple Qualities, of which all others are compos'd, the Knowledge of those Elements and Qualities must be very clear and distinct, since the whole Natural Philosophy, or the Knowledge of all sensible Bodies, which are made of them, must be deduc'd from thence.

Let us then see what may be wanting to those Principles. First, Aristotle fixes no distinct Idea to the Word Quality: It cannot be known whether by Quality he understands a real Being distinguish'd from Matter, or only a Modification of Matter; he seems one while to take it in the former, and at another time in the latter Sense. I grant that in the 8th Chapter of his Categories, he [Page] defines Quality, that by which Things are denominated so or so; but that is not plain and satisfactory. Secondly, His Definitions of the four Primitive Qualities, viz. Heat, Cold, Moisture and Dryness, are either false, or useless. We will begin with his Definition of Heat: Heat, says he, is that which congregates Homogeneous Things.

First, Though that Definition should be true, That Heat always congregates Homogeneous Bodies; yet we cannot see how it perfectly explains the Nature of Heat.

Secondly, 'Tis false that Heat congregates Homogeneous Things; for Heat dissipates the Particles of Water into Vapour, instead of heaping them together: It congregates not likewise the Parts of Wine, or any Liquor or Fluid Body whatsoever, even to Quick-silver. On the contrary, it resolves and separates both Solid and Fluid Bodies, whether of the same or different Natures; and if there be any, the Parts of which Fire cannot dissipate, it is not because they are homogeneous, but because they are too gross and solid to be carry'd away by the Motion of the fiery Particles.

Thirdly, Heat, in reality, can neither congregate nor segregate the Parts of any Body whatsoever; for, that the Parts of Bodies may be congregated, separated or dissipated, they must be moved: But Heat can move nothing, or at least, it appears not that it can move Bodies; for though we consider Heat with all the possible Attention, we cannot discover that it may communicate to Bodies a Motion which it has not it self. We see, indeed, that Fire moves and separates the Parts of such Bodies as lie expos'd to its Action, but it is not perhaps by its Heat, it being not evident whether it has any; it is rather by the Action of its Parts, which we visibly perceive to be in a continual Motion; for these fiery Particles striking against a Body, must needs impart to it somewhat of their Motion, whether there is or is not any Heat in Fire. If the Parts of that Body be not very solid▪ Fire will dissipate them; but if they be very gross and solid, Fire can but just move them, and make them slide one over the other. And Lastly, If there be a Mixture of subtile and gross Parts, Fire will only dissipate those which it can push so far as to separate them from the others. So that Fire can only separate; and if it congregate, 'tis only by Accident. But Aristotle asserts quite contrary:De Gener. & Corrupt▪ l. 2. c. 2. Separating, says he, which some ascribe to Fire, is but congregating Homogeneous Things; for 'tis only by Accident that Fire carries off Things of different Nature.

If this Philosopher had at first distinguished the Sensation of Heat, from the Motion of the small Particles, of which the Bodies called hot are composed, and had afterwards defined Heat, taken from the Motion of Parts, by saying, that Heat is what agitates and separates the invisible Parts, or which visible Bodies are made up; he would have given a tolerable definition of Heat; though not full and satisfactory: because it would not accurately discover the Nature of Motion in hot Bodies.

Aristotle defines Cold, what congregates Bodies of the same, or different Nature: but that Definition is worth nothing, for Cold congregates not Bodies. To congregate them, it must move them: but if we consult our Reason we shall find, that Cold can move nothing; for we understand by that word, either what we feel when we are cold, or what causes our Sensation. As to our Sensation, 'tis plain that it is merely Passive, and can neither move nor drive any thing. And as to the Cause of that Sensation, reason tells us, if we examine things, that it is merely rest, or a Cessation of Motion: So that Cold in Bodies being no more than the Cessation of that sort of Motion which attends Heat, 'tis evident that if Heat separate, Cold does not. And therefore Cold coacervates neither things of the same, nor of different nature; since what cannot drive on Bodies cannot amass them together. In a word, as it does nothing, it must needs congregate nothing.

Aristotle judging of things by his Senses, imagin'd Cold to be as positive as Heat; and because the Sensations of Heat and Cold are both real and positive, he supposes them both likewise to be active Qualities: and indeed, if we follow the Impressions of the Senses, we shall be apt to believe that Cold is a very active Quality; since cold Water congeals, accumulates, and hardens in a moment melted Gold and Lead, when they are pour'd upon it from a Crucible; though the Heat of those Metals be yet strong enough to separate the Parts of the Bodies which they touch.

'Tis plain, by what has been said in the First Book, concerning the Errours of the Senses, That if we relye upon the Judgment the Senses make of the Qualities of sensible Bodies, 'tis impossible to discover any certain and undeniable Truth, that may serve as a Principle to proceed in the Knowledge of Nature. For one cannot so much as discover that way, what things are hot, and what cold; amongst several Persons, who touch luke-warm Water, it feels cold to those that are hot,See Book I. from ch. 11. [...]o ch. 15. and hot to those that are cold. And if we suppose Fishes susceptible of Sensation, 'tis very probable that they feel it warm, when all or most Men feel it cold. It is the same with Air, that seems to be hot or cold, according to the different Dispositions of the Bodies of those that are exposed to it. Aristotle pretends that it is hot, but I fansie that the Nothern Inhabitants are of another Opinion, since several learned Men, whose Climate is as hot as that of Greece, have asserted it to be cold. But that Question, which has made so much noise in the Schools, will never be resolv'd, as long as no distinct Idea shall be affixed to the Word Heat.

The Definitions Aristotle lays down of Heat and Cold cannot settle that Idea. For Instance, Air, and even Water, though never so hot and scalding, congregate the parts of melted Lead together with those of any other Metal whatsoever. Air conglutinates all sorts of Fat joyn'd with Gums, or any other solid Bodies. And he shall be a very formal Peripatetick, who should think of exposing Mastich, to the Air, to separate the pitchy from the Earthy part, and other compound Bodies to uncompound them. And therefore Air is not hot, according to the Definition [Page] which Aristotle gives of Heat. Air separates Liquors from the Bodies that are imbued with them, hardens Clay, dries spread Linen, though Aristotle makes it moist, and so is hot and drying, according to the same Definition; therefore it cannot be determined by that Definition, whether or no Air is hot. It may indeed be asserted that Air is hot in reference to Clay, since it separates the Water from the Earthy Part. But must we try all the various Effects of Air upon all Bodies, before we can be assured, whether there is Heat in the Air we breath in? If it be so, we shall never be sure of it, and 'tis as good not to philosophize at all upon the Air we respire, but upon some certain pure and elementary Air, not to be found here below, of which we can very dogmatically assert, with Aristotle, that it is hot, without giving the least Proof of it, nor even distinctly knowing what we understand either by that Air, or by the Heat ascribed to it. For thus we shall lay down Principles scarce to be destroyed; not because of their Plainness and Certainty, but by reason of their Darkness, and their being like to Apparitions, which cannot be wounded, because they have not a Body.

I shall not insist upon Aristotle's Definitions of Moisture and Dryness; it being evident, that they explain not their Nature. For according to those Definitions, Fire is not dry, since it is not easily contained within its own limits; and Ice is not moist, since it keeps within its proper Bounds, and can difficultly be adapted to external Bounds. But if fluid be understood by the Word humid, or moist, it may again be said, that Ice is not moist; and that Flame, melted Gold, and Lead, are very humid. If by humid or moist be understood what easily cleaves to any thing, Ice is not humid, and Pitch, Fat, and Oil, are moister than Water, since they cleave to Bodies more strongly than it does. Quick-silver is moist in that sense, for it cleaves to Metals; whereas Water is not perfectly moist, since it cleaves not to most of them. So that 'tis unserviceable to have recourse to the Testimony of the Senses, to defend the Opinions of Aristotle.

But without farther examining his wonderful Definitions of the four Elementary Qualities, let us suppose that whatever the Senses teach us of those Qualities is incontestable: let us muster up all our Faith, and believe all those Definitions very accurate: Only let it be allowed us to enquire whether all the Qualities of sensible Bodies are made of these Elementary Qualities. Aristotle pretends it, and he must do so indeed, since he looks upon those Four primitive Qualities, as the Principles of all the things which he intends to explain in his Books of Physicks.

He teaches us, that Colours are produced from the Mixture of those Four Elementary Qualities; White is produced when Moisture exceeds Heat; as in old Men, when they grow gray; Black when Moisture is exhausted, as in the Walls of Cisterns; and all other Colours by the like Mixtures: that Odours and Savours arise from different Degrees of Dryness and Moisture, mix'd together by Heat and Cold; and that even Gravity and Levity do depend thereon. In short, All sensible Qualities must needs be produced, according to Aristotle, by Two active Principles, viz. Heat and Cold: and composed of Two passive, namely, Dryness and Moisture; that there may be some probable Connexion betwixt his Principles, and the Consequences he draws from them.

However 'tis yet a harder Task to persuade us of such things, than any of those that have been hitherto related from Aristotle. We can scarce believe that the Earth, and other Elements, would not be colour'd, or visible, if they were in their natural Purity, without Mixture of those Elementary Principles, though some learned Commentators on that Philosopher assert it. We understand not what Aristotle means when he assures us, that gray Hair is produced by Moisture, because in old Men Moisture exceeds Heat; though to illustrate his thought we put the definition instead of the thing defined. For it looks like an incomprehensible piece of Nonsence to say that the Hair of old Men becomes gray, because what is not easily contained within its own Limits, but may be within others, exceeds what congregates homogeneous things.

And we are as hard put it to believe that Savour is well explain'd, by saying it consists in a mixture of Dryness, Moisture, and of Heat, especially when we put, instead of those words, the Definitions given by that Philosopher; as it would prove useful, if they were just and good. And none perhaps could forbear laughing, if instead of the Definitions which Aristotle gives of Hunger and Thirst when he says, that Hunger is the desire of what is hot and dry, and Thirst the desire of what is cold and moist; we should substitute the Definitions of those words, calling Hunger the desire of that which coacervates things of the same nature, and is easily contained within its own Limits, and difficultly within others; and defining Thirst, the desire of that which congregates things of the same and different natures, and which can hardly be contained within its own bounds, but is easily kept within others.

Surely 'tis a very useful Rule to know whether Terms have been well defined, and to avoid mistakes in reasoning, often to put the Definition instead of the thing defined; for that shews whether the words are equivocal, and the Measures of the Relations false and imperfect, or whether we argue consequently. If it be so, what Judgment can be made of Aristotle's Arguments, which become an impertinent and ridiculous Nonsence, when we make use of that Rule? and what may also be said of all those who argue upon the false and confused Ideas of the Senses, since that Rule which preserves Light and Evidence, in all exact and solid Reasonings, brings nothing but confusion in their Discourses?

'Tis not possible to lay open the foolish Capriciousness and Extravagance of Aristotle's Explications upon all sorts of matters. When he treats of simple and easie Subjects, his Errours are plain and obvious to be discover'd; but when he pretends to explain very composed things and depending on several Causes, his Errours are as much compounded as the Subjects he speaks of; so that it is impossible to unfold them all, and set them before others.

[Page]That great Genius, who is said to have so well succeeded in his Rules for defining well, knows not so much as which are the things that may be defined, because he puts no Distinction betwixt a clear and distinct▪ and a sensible Knowledge, and pretends to know and explain other things of which he has not so much as a distinct Idea. Definitions ought to explicate the Nature of things, and the words of which they consist must raise in the Mind distinct and particular Notions. But 'tis impossible to define in that manner sensible Qualities, as Heat, Cold, Colour, Savour, &c. When you confound the Cause with the Effect, the Motion of Bodies with the Sensation that attends it; because Sensations being Modifications of the Soul, which are not to be known by clear Ideas, but only by internal Sensation as I have explain'd it in the third Book; it is impossible to fix to those words, Ideas which we have not.

As we have Distinct Ideas of a Circle, a Square, a Triangle, and therefore know distinctly their Nature, so we can give good Difinitions of them, and even deduce from our Ideas of those Figures all their Properties, and explain them to others by such words as are fixed to those Ideas. But we cannot define either Heat or Cold, in as much as they are sensible Qualities, because we know them not distinctly, and by Ideas; but only by Conscience and inward Sensation.

Neither must we define the Heat that is without us by any of its Effects. For if we substitute such a Definition in its place, we shall find that it will only conduce to lead us into Errour. For Instance, if Heat be defined what congregates homogeneous things, without adding any thing else, we may by that Definition mistake for Heat such things as have no Relation to it. For then it might be said, that the Loadstone collects the Filings of Iron, and separates them from those of Silver, because 'tis hot; that a Dove eats Hempseed when it leaves other Grain, because that Bird is hot; that a covetous Man separates his Guineas from his Silver, because he is hot. In short, there is no impertinency, but that Definition would induce one into it, were he dull enough to follow it. And therefore that Definition explains not the nature of Heat, nor can it be imploy'd to deduce all its properties from it: since by literally insisting upon it, we should draw ridiculous Conclusions; and by putting it instead of the thing defined, fall into Nonsense.

However, if we carefully distinguish Heat from its Cause; though it cannot be defined, in as much as it is a Modification of the Soul, whereof we have no Idea: yet its Cause may be defined, since we have a distinct Idea of Motion. But we must observe that Heat▪ taken for such a Motion, causes not always in us the Sense of Heat. For Instance, Water is hot, since its Parts are fluid, and in Motion, and most probably it feels warm to Fishes, at least 'tis warmer than Ice, whose Parts are more quiet; but 'tis cold to us, because it has less Motion than the Parts of our Body; what has less Motion than another, being in some manner quiet, in respect of that. And therefore 'tis not with reference to the Motion of the Fibres of our Body, that the Cause of Heat, or the Motion that excites it, ought to be defined. We must, if possible, define that Motion absolutely, and in it self: for then our Definition will be subservient to know the Nature and Properties of Heat.

I hold not my self oblig'd to examine farther the Philosophy of Aristotle, and to extricate his so much confus'd and puzling Errours. I have shewn, methinks, that he proves not the Existence of his four Elements, and defines them wrong; that his Elementary Qualities are not such as he pretends, that he knows not their Nature, and that all the Second Qualities are not made of them; and lastly, that though we should grant him that all Bodies are compos'd of the four Elements, and the Second Qualities of the First, his whole System would still prove useless for the finding out of Truth, since his Ideas are not clear enough to preserve Evidence in all our Reasonings.

If any doubt whether I have propos'd the true Opinions of Aristotle, he may satisfie himself by consulting his Books of the Heavens, and of Generation and Corruption, whence I have exextracted almost all that I have said of him. I would relate nothing out of his Eight Books of Physicks, because some learned Men pretend they are but a mere Logick; which is very apparent, since nothing but rambling and undetermin'd Words are to be found in them.

As Aristotle often contradicts himself, and that almost all sorts of Opinions may be defended by some Passages drawn out of him, I doubt not but some Opinions, contrary to those I have ascrib'd to that Philosopher, may be prov'd out of himself: And I shall not warrant for him; but it is sufficient for me that I have the Books I have quoted, to justifie what I have said of him; and I care little whether those Books are Aristotle's, or not; taking them for such, as I find them upon the publick Fame; for we ought not to trouble our selves with enquiring into the true Genealogy of Things, for which we have no great Esteem.

CHAP. VI.

General and necessary Directions to proceed orderly in the Search after Truth, and in the Choice of Sciences.

LEST it should be said, that we have only been destroying the Reasonings of others, but establish nothing certain and undeniable of our own; it will be convenient to propose, in few words, what Order we ought to observe in our Studies, for the avoiding Errour: and I design withal to shew some Truths and Sciences that are very necessary, as bearing such a Character of Evidence, as that we cannot withold our Consent, without feeling the secret Upbraidings of [Page] our Reason. I shall not explain at large those Truths and Sciences; that's already done, and I intend not to reprint the Works of others, but only to refer to them, and to shew what Order we must keep in our Studies, to preserve Evidence in all our perceptions.

The first Knowledge of all, is that of the Existence of our Soul; all our Thoughts are so many undeniable Demonstrations of it, for nothing is more evident, than that whatever actually thinks, is actually something. But though it be easie to know the Existence of our Soul, yet her Essence and Nature are not so easily discovered. If we desire to know what she is, we must take care above all, not to confound her with the things to which she is united. If we doubt, will, argue; we must only believe, that the Soul is something that doubts, wills, argues, and nothing more, as long as we have not felt in her other Properties: for we know our Soul only by the inward Sensation we have of her. We must not mistake her for our Body, for Blood, for Animal Spirits, for Fire, and many other things for which Philosophers have mistaken her. We must believe of the Soul no more than we are forced to believe of her, by a full conviction of our inward Sense, for otherwise we shall be deceiv'd. Thus we shall know, by a simple view, or by internal Sensation, whatever may be known of the Soul; without being obliged to long reasonings that might lead us into Errour. For when we reason, Memory operates; and whereever Memory operates, there may be Errour; supposing our Knowledge should depend on some wicked Spirits that should take delight in deceiving us.

Though I should suppose, for instance, a God, who took delight in thus abusing me; yet I am persuaded that I could not be deceived in a Knowledge of simple Perception, as is that by which I know that I am, that I think, or that 2 and 2 are 4. For I am conscious to my self, that in this extravagant Supposition, such a deluding Spirit, though never so potent, could not make me doubt that I am, or that 2 times 2 are 4; because I perceive those things with a simple view or Perception, and without the use of Memory. But when I reason, as I see not evidently the Principles of my Reasonings, but only remember that I have evidently seen them. If that seducing God should join that Remembrance to false Principles, as he might do if he pleas'd, I should conclude nothing but what was false. Just like those that make long Calculations; fancying they remember that they have plainly seen that 9 times 9 are 72, or that 21 is a primitive Number, or some other Errour of that Nature, draw false Inferences from thence.

And therefore 'tis necessary to know God, and to be assured that he is no Deceiver; if we desire to be fully convinced that the most certain Sciences, as Arithmetick and Geometry are true Sciences; for without that their Evidence is not full, and we can still with-hold our Consent. And 'tis likewise necessary to know by a simple View, and not by Reasoning, that God is no Deceiver; since reasoning may still be false, in the supposition of a deluding God.

All the ordinary Proofs of the Existence and Perfections of God, drawn from the Existence and Perfections of his Creatures, are methinks liable to this Defect, that they convince not the Mind with a simple Perception. All those Arguments are Reasonings convincing in themselves; but because they are Reasonings, they are not demonstrative in supposing a wicked and deceitfull Genius. They sufficiently shew that there is a Power superiour to us, which is granted even by that foolish Supposition: but they do not fully persuade us that there is a God, or a Being infinitely perfect; so that the Conclusion of those Arguments is more evident than the Principle.

Tis more evident that there is a Power superiour to us, than that there is a World, since no Supposition can obviate our demonstrating that superiour Power; whereas in supposing an evil and deceitfull Spirit, 'tis impossible to prove the Existence of the World: because it may still be conceived, that this wicked Genius gives us the Sense of things that are not in being; as Sleep, and some Distempers, make us perceive things that never were, and even feel an actual pain in imaginary Members, such as we have lost, or that we never had.

But the Arguments of the Existence and Perfections of God, drawn from our Idea of infinite, are Proo [...]s of simple sight. We see there is a God, as soon as we perceive infinite; because necessary Existence is included in the Idea of infinite, and that nothing but infinite can furnish to us the Idea of an infinite Being. We likewise see that God is no Deceiver, because knowing that he is infinitely perfect, and that infinite cannot want any Perfection, we plainly perceive that he will not seduce us, and even that he cannot, because he can but what he wills, and what he is able to will. And therefore there is a God, a true God, and a God that never deceives us; though he does not always enlighten us, and that we are obnoxious to Mistakes, when we want his Light. Attentive Minds perceive all those Truths, by a simple intuitive Perception, though we seem to make Arguments, that we may demonstrate them to others; so that they may be supposed as unquestionable Principles of our Reasonings; for having known that God delights not in deceiving us, nothing hinders but we may proceed to Reason.

'Tis also plain that the certainty of Faith depends on that Principle, That there is a God uncapable of Deceipt. For the Existence of God, and the Infallibility of his Divine Authority, are rather a natural Knowledge and common Notions, as to Minds capable of serious Attention, than Articles of Faith; though to have a Mind susceptible of a sufficient Attention rightly to conceive those Truths, and willingly to apply our selves to the understanding them, be a particular Gift of God.

From that Principle, That God is no Deceiver, we might likewise infer, that we have a real Body, to which we are united in a particular manner, and that we are surrounded with several others See Illustration X. of Book I.. For we are inwardly convinced of their Existence by the continual Sensations, which God produces in us, and which we cannot correct by Reason, without offending Faith; though [Page] we can correct by Reason the Sensations that represent them, as endu'd with some Qualities and Perfections that are not in them: So that we ought not to believe that they are such as we see or imagine them, but only that they exist, and that they are such as we conceive them by Reason.

But that we may proceed orderly, we must not yet examine whether we have a Body, whether there are others about us, or whether we have only bare Sensations of Things which exist not. Those Questions include too great Difficulties, and are not perhaps so necessary as may be imagin'd to perfect our Mind, and to have an accurate Knowledge of Natural and Moral Philosophy, and some other Sciences.

We have within us the Ideas of Numbers and Extension, whose Existence is undeniable, and their Nature immutable; and which would eternally supply us with Objects to think on, if we desire to know all their Relations: It is necessary to begin to make use of our Minds upon those Ideas, for some Reasons, which it will not be amiss to explain, whereof the principal are Three.

The First is, That those Ideas are the most clear and evident of all: For if, to avoid Errour, we must still keep to Evidence in our Reasonings, 'tis plain that we must rather argue from the Ideas of Numbers and Extension, than from the confus'd or compos'd Ideas of Physicks, Morals, Mechanicks, Chymistry, and other Sciences.

Secondly, Those Ideas are the most distinct and exact of all, especially those of Numbers: So that the Habit (which proceeds from the Exercise of Arithmetick and Geometry) of not being content till we precisely know the Relations of Things, endues the Mind with such an Exactness of Thought, as is not to be found in those that are satisfied with the Probabilities so obvious to be met with in other Sciences.

The Third and chief Reason is, That those Ideas are the immutable Rules and common Measure of all the Objects of our Knowledge: For those that perfectly know the Relations of Numbers and Figures, or rather the Art of making such Comparisons as are requisite to know them, have a kind of Universal Knowledge, and a very sure Means evidently and certainly to discover whatever goes not beyond the ordinary Limits of the Mind. But those that are not skilful in this Art, cannot with Certainty discover such Truths as are somewhat intricate, though they have very clear Ideas of Things, and endeavour to know their Compound Relations.

These, or the like Reasons, mov'd some of the Antients to apply their Youth to the Study of Arithmetick, Algebra and Geometry. Undoubtedly they well knew that Arithmetick and Algebra endue the Mind with such an Insight and Penetration, as was not to be gotten by other Studies; and that Geometry manages the Imagination so well, as that it is not easily puzzl'd or confounded; for that Faculty of the Soul, so necessary to Sciences, acquires by the Use of Geometry, such an universal Nicety as promotes and preserves the clear View of the Mind, even in the most intricate Difficulties.

And therefore, he that desires always to preserve Evidence in his Perceptions, and discover naked Tru [...]hs, without Mixture of Darkness and Errour, must begin with the Study of Arithmetick, Algebra and Geometry, after he has obtain'd some Knowledge, at least of himself, and the Sovereign Being. As for Books that make the Way to those Sciences easie, I may refer to the Meditations of des Cartes, as to the Knowledge of God, and our selves; to the Elements of Mathematicks, newly printed, as to Arithmetick and Algebra; to the New Elements of Geometry, printed in 1667, or to the Elements of Father Taquet, Jesuit, printed at Antwerp in 1665, as to ordinary Geometry; and as to Conick Sections, and the Solution of Geometrical Problemes, to the Treatises of Monsieur de la Hire, intituled, Of Conick Sections, Of Geometrical Places, and Of the Construction of Equations; to which may be added, the Geometry of des Cartes.

I would not have advis'd to the Elements of Mathematicks, as to Arithmetick and Algebra, if I knew any Author who had clearly demonstrated those Sciences; but Truth obliges me to a thing, for which I may be blam'd by some People; for Algebra and Analyticks being altogether requisite for the Discovery of compos'd Truths, I must needs shew my Esteem for a Book which carries those Sciences very far, and which, in the Opinion of many Learned, explains them more clearly than they had been hitherto.

By the careful Study of those general Sciences, we shall evidently know a great Number of Truths, very serviceable in all accurate and particular Sciences. We may afterwards study Natural and Moral Philosophy, as being very useful, though no [...] very fit to make the Mind nice and quick-sighted. And if we desire to preserve Evidence in all our Perceptions, we must take a special Care not to be opinionated of any Principle that is not evident, and to which the Chinese, for instance, would not be suppos'd to dissent, after having throughly weigh'd and consider'd it.

And therefore we must only admit in Physicks those Notions which are common to all Men, such as Axioms of Geometry, and the clear Ideas of Extension, Figure, Motion, Rest, and others of that nature, if there be any. Perhaps it will be said, that Extension is not the Essence of Matter: But what is that to the purpose? 'Tis sufficient that the World, which we conceive to consist of Extension, appears like to that we see, though it be not made of such a Matter, which is good for nothing, and altogether unknown, whilst so much Noise is made about it.

It is not absolutely necessary to examine whether there are actually External Beings, corresponding to those Ideas; for we argue not from those Beings, but from their Ideas. We must only take care that our Reasonings which we make upon the Properties of Things, agree with our inward Consciousness; that is, that our Thoughts perfectly agree with Experience; because in Physicks we endeavour to discover the Order and Connexion of Effects with their [Page] Causes, either in Bodies if they exist, or in the Sense we have of them if they are not in being.

I say not, however, that we can doubt whether Bodies are actually existing, when we consider that God is not a Deceiver; and that the Order he has constituted in our Sentiments of Things▪ both as to natural Occurrences, and such as are wrought to create our Belief of what Reason is at a Loss to comprehend, is very regular. But I observe this, because 'tis not necessary to insist at first very long upon a thing which no body doubts of, and is not extremely conducible to the Knowledge of Physicks, consider'd as a true Science.

Neither must we puzzle our Heads with enquiring whether there are in the Bodies about us some other Qualities, besides those of which we have clear Ideas; for we must only reason upon our Ideas; and if there be any thing of which we have no clear, distinct and particular Idea, we shall never know it, nor argue from it with any Certainty: Whereas, perhaps, by reasoning upon our Ideas, we may follow Nature, and perhaps discover that she is not so hidden as is commonly imagin'd.

As those who have not study'd the Properties of Numbers, often imagine that it is not possible to resolve some Problemes, which are however simple and easie; so those that have not meditated upon the Properties of Extension, Figures and Motions, are very apt to believe, and even to assert, that most part of the Physical Questions are inexplicable. But we must not be deterr'd by the Opinion of those who have examin'd nothing, or nothing at least with due Application: For though few Truths concerning Natural Things have been fully demonstrated, yet 'tis certain that there are some that are general which cannot be doubted of, though it be very possible not to think upon them, to know nothing of them, and to deny them.

If we meditate orderly, and with due Time and all necessary Application, we shall discover several of those certain Truths I speak of: But for more Conveniency, it will be requisite carefully to read des Cartes's Principles of Philosophy, without approving of any thing he says, till the Strength and Plainness of his Reasons shall suffer us to doubt no longer.

As Moral Philosophy is the most necessary of all Sciences, so it must be study'd with the greatest Application; it being very dangerous to follow in this the Opinions of Men. But to the avoiding Errour, and keeping to Evidence in our Perceptions, we must only meditate upon such Principles as are confess'd by all those whose Hearts are not corrupted by Debauchery, and their Minds blinded with Pride: For there is no Moral Principle undeniable to Minds of Flesh and Blood, who aspire to the Quality of Bold Wits. Such People conceive not the most simple Truths; or if they do, they constantly deny them through a Spirit of Contradiction, and to keep up the Reputation of great Wits.

Some of the most general Principles of Morality are, That God having made all things for himself, has made our Understanding to know, and our Will to love him: That being so just and powerful as he is, we cannot be happy but by obeying his Commands, nor be unhappy in following them: That our Nature is corrupted, our Mind depending on our Body, our Reason on our Senses, and our Will on our Passions: That we are uncapable of performing what we plainly see to be our Duty, and that we have need of a Redeemer. There are yet many other Moral Principles; as, That Retirement and Penitency are necessary to diminish our Union with sensible Objects, and to increase that which we have with intelligible Goods, true Goods, and the Goods of the Mind: That we cannot enjoy vehement Pleasures, without becoming Slaves to them: That nothing must be undertaken by Passion: That we must not long for Settlements in this Life, &c. But because these last Principles depend on the former, and on the Knowledge of Man, it behoves us not to take them at first for granted. If we orderly meditate upon those Principles, with as much Care and Application as so great a Subject deserves, and admit no Conclusion for true but such as follows from those Principles, we shall compose a very certain System of Morals, and perfectly agreeable with that of the Gospel, though not so large and compleat.

I grant that in Moral Reasonings it is not so easie to preserve Evidence and Exactness, as in some other Sciences; and that the Knowledge of Man being absolutely necessary to those that will proceed far, many Learners make no considerable Progresses therein: They will not consult themselves, to be sensible of the Weakness of their Nature: They are soon weary of interrogating the Master, who inwardly teaches them his Will; that is, the Immutable and Eternal Laws, and the true Principles of Morality: They cannot listen with Pleasure to him that speaks not to their Senses, who answers not according to their Desires, and flatters not their secret Pride: They have no Veneration for such Words, the Lustre of which dazles not their Imagination, which are lowly pronounc'd, and never distinctly heard but when the Creatures are silent: But they consult with Pleasure and Reverence Aristotle, Seneca, or some new Philosophers, who seduce them by the Obscurity of their Words, by the Elegancy of their Expressions, or the Probability of their Reasons.

Since the Fall of our first Parents we esteem nothing but what refers to the Preservation of the Body, and the Conveniencies of Life; and as we discover that sort of Good by means of the Senses, so we endeavour to use them on all Occasions. The Eternal Wisdom, which is our true Life, and the only Light that can illuminate us, often shines but upon the Blind, and speaks but to the Deaf, when it speaks within the Recesses of our Soul, because we are for the most part exercis'd abroad. And as we are continually putting Questions to the Creatures, to learn any News from them of the Good we are in search of, it was requisite, as I have said elsewhere, that this Wisdom should offer it self to our Senses, yet without going out of our selves, that we might learn by sensible Words and convincing Examples, the way to eternal Happiness. God perpetually [Page] imprints on us a natural Love for him, that we may always love him; yet by that same Motion of Love we incessantly recede from him, running with all the strength he gives us to the sinsible Good which he forbids us to love; and therefore as he desires we should love him, so he must make himself sensible and offer himself before us, to stop by the delectation of his Grace all our restless Agitations, and begin our Cure by Sensations or Satisfactions, like to the preventing Pleasures that had been the Original of our Disease.

For these reasons I pretend not that Men may easily discover, by the strength of their Mind, all the Rules of Morality necessary to Salvation, and much less that they should be able to act according to their Light; for their Heart is still more corrupted than their Mind. I only say, that if they admit nothing but evident Principles, and argue consequently from them, they shall discover the same Truths that are taught us in the Gospel: because it is the same Wisdom, which speaks immediately, and by it self, to those that discover the Truth in evident Reasonings, and which speaks in the Holy Scriptures to those that understand them in their right sense.

We must therefore study Morality in the Gospel, to spare our selves the trouble of Meditation, and to learn with certainty the Laws and Rules of our Life and Manners. As to those who are not satisfied with a bare Certainty, because it only convinces the Mind, without enlightening it, they must meditate upon those Laws, and deduce them from their natural Principles; that they may know evidently by Reason what Faith has already taught them, with an absolute Certainty. Thus they will convince themselves, that the Gospel is the most solid Book in the World, that Christ perfectly knew the Disorders and Distempers of Nature, that he has rectified and cured them in a manner the most useful to us, and most worthy of himself, that can be conceived. But that the Light of Philosophers is nothing but a dark Night, and their most splendid Vertues, an intolerable Pride: In short, that Aristotle, Seneca, and all the rest are but Men, to say nothing worse.

CHAP. VII.

Of the Vse of the First Rule concerning particular Questions.

WE have sufficiently insisted upon the general Rule of Method, more especially regarding the Subject of our Studies, and shewn, that Des Cartes has exactly followed it in his System of the World; whereas Aristotle and his Disciples have not observed it. We proceed now to the particular Rules that are necessary to resolve all sorts of Questions.

The Questions that may be formed upon all sorts of Subjects are of so many Kinds, as that it is not easie to enumerate them. However I shall set down the principal. Sometimes we search after the unknown Causes of some Effects that are known, and sometimes after unknown Effects by known Causes. Fire burns and dissipates Wood, we enquire after the Cause of it. Fire consists in a violent Motion of the fiery Particles; we desire to know what Effects that Motion is able to produce, whether it may harden Clay, melt Iron, &c.

Sometimes we seek the Nature of a thing by its Properties, and sometimes its Properties by its Nature, that is known to us. We know, or suppose, that Light is transmitted in a moment; and however, that it is reflected and collected by a concave Mirrour, so as to consume and melt the most solid Bodies; and we design to make use of those Properties to discover its Nature. On the contrary we know, that all the space that reaches from the Earth to the Heavens, is full of little Spherical and most movable Bodies, which continually endeavour their removal from the Sun: We desire to discover whether the endeavour of those small Bodies may be transmitted in an instant; whether being reflected by a concave Glass, they must unite themselves, and dissipate or melt the solidest Bodies.

Sometimes we enquire after all the Parts of the Whole, and sometimes after the Whole by its Parts. We search after all the unknown Parts of a Whole that is known, when we seek all the Aliquot Parts of a Number, all the Roots of an Equation, all the Right Angles of a Figure, &c. And we enquire after an unknown Whole, all the Parts of which are known, when we seek the Summ of several Numbers, the Area of many Figures, the Dimensions of different Vessels. Or we seek a Whole, one Part of which is known, and whose other Parts, though unknown, include some known Relation with that which is unknown; as when we seek what is that Number, one Part of which, as 15, being known, makes with the other part the half, or the third of an unknown Number; or when we seek an unknown Number equal to 15, and to the double of the Root of that unknown Number.

Lastly, We often enquire whether some things are equal, or like to others; and how much they are unequal or different: As when we desire to know whether Saturn is greater than Jupiter, and how much the former surpasses the latter: Whether the Air of Rome is hotter than that of London, and how many degrees.

What is general in all Questions is, that they are formed for the Knowledge of some Truths; and because all Truths are Relations, it may generally be said, that in all Questions, we search but after the Knowledge of some Relations, either betwixt things, or betwixt Ideas, or betwixt things and their Ideas.

There are Relations of several sorts, as betwixt the Nature of things, betwixt their Magnitudes, their Parts, their Attributes, their Qualities, Effects, Causes, &c. but they may all be reduced to [Page] two, viz. to Relations of Magnitude and of Quality; comprehending under the former, all those in which things are consider'd as suceptible of more and less; and all the others under the latter. So that it may be said, that all Questions tend to discover some Relation, either of Magnitude or of Quality.

The first and chief Rule is, That we must very distinctly know the state of the Question to be resolv'd; and have such distinct Ideas of its Terms, that we may compare them together, and discover their unknown Relations.

We must then first very clearly perceive the unknown Relation enquired after; for 'tis plain, that if we have no certain Mark to distinguish it, when 'tis sought for, or when 'tis found, our labour will be fruitless.

Secondly, We must, as far as possible, make the Ideas which answer to the Terms of the Question, distinct, by taking off their Equivocation; and make them clear, by considering them with all the possible Attention: for if those Ideas are so confused and obscure, as that we cannot make the necessary Comparisons, to discover the Relations we look for, we are not yet in a state of resolving the Question.

Thirdly, We must consider with all possible Attention, the Conditions expressed in the Question, if any there be; since without that we can but confusedly understand the state of that Question: besides that the Conditions commonly trace out the way to resolve it. So that when the state of a Question, and its Conditions are rightly understood, we not only know what we enquire after, but also sometimes by what means it may be discovered.

I grant that Conditions are not express'd in all Questions, but then those Questions are undeterminate, and may resolved several ways; as when 'tis required to find out a Square Number, a Triangle, &c. without specifying any other particulars: Or it may be that the Querist knows not how to resolve, or that he conceals them, in order to puzzle the Resolver; as when 'tis required to find out Two mean Proportionals betwixt Two Lines, without adding by the Intersection of the Circle and Parabola, or of the Circle and Ellipsis, &c.

And therefore 'tis altogether necessary, that the distinguishing Character of what is searched after, be very distinct, and not equivocal, or that it be only proper to the thing enquired; otherwise we could not be certain whether the Question proposed is resolved. We must likewise carefully separate from the Question all the Conditons that make it intricate, and without which it subsists entire; because they fruitlessly divide the capacity of the Mind. Besides that we have not a distinct perception of the state of the Question, as long as the Conditions that attend it are useless.

Suppose, for instance, a Question were proposed in these Words; to cause that a Man besprinkled with some Liquors, and crowned with a Garland of Flowers, be not able to rest, though he sees nothing that is capable of moving him. We must enquire whether the word Man is Metaphorical; whether the word Rest is equivocal; whether it relates to local Motions, or to Passions, as the last words, though he sees nothing that is capable of moving him, seem to hint: Lastly, We must enquire whether the Conditions, besprinkled with some Liquors, and crowned with a Garland of Flowers are essential. Lastly, The state of that ridiculous and undeterminate Question being thus plainly known, 'twill be easie to resolve it, by saying that we need but put a Man in a Ship, with the Conditions expressed in the Question.

The Skill of those that propose such Questions, is to join some Conditions to them, that seem necessary though they be not so; that the Mind of the Resolver may be diverted to things that are unserviceable, as to the Solution of it. As in this Question, which Servant-Maids often put to Children; I have seen, say they, Hunters, or rather Fishers, which carried with them what they could not catch, and threw into the Water what they catch'd; the Mind being prepossessed with the Ideas of Fishers that take Fish, cannot understand the state of that Foolish Question; the whole Difficulty of which comes from hence, that we think not that Hunters and Fishers, as well as other Men, often seek in their Cloaths some little Animals, which they throw away if they catch, and carry with them if they find them not.

Sometimes all the Conditions that are necessary to resolve a Question are not mention'd, which makes them as hard as the expressing of unserviceable Characters, as in the following; to make a Man unmovable, without binding or wounding him; or rather, by putting his little Finger into his Ear; so that he shall not be able to stir, until he takes his little Finger out of his Ear; that at first appears impossible, and 'tis really so: for any one may walk having his little Finger in his Ear; but there wants a Condition, which, if it were express'd, would remove the whole Difficulty: for you need but make a Man embrace a Bed-post, or something like, and put his little Finger into his Ear, so that the Post be included between his Arm and Ear, it being plain he cannot stir without taking out his Finger. It is not mentioned that there is yet something to be done, on purpose that the Mind should not seek for, nor discover it. But those that undertake the resolving of such Questions, must make all the Queries that are requisite, to understand the point wherein lies the Stress of the Difficulty.

Those arbitrary Questions appear to be foolish, and are indeed so in one Sense, as far as nothing is learn'd by their Solution. However they are not so different from natural Questions as may be imagin'd; for both are resolved by a Method that is very near the same. And as the Skill or Maliciousness of Men, makes arbitrary Questions intricate and difficult; so natural Effects are of themselves surrounded with Obscurity and Darkness, that must be dissipated by the Attention of the Mind, and by Experiments, which are a sort of Queries put to the Author of Nature; [Page] even as Equivocations, and useless Circumstances are taken off from arbitrary Questions, by the skilful Queries that are made to the Proposers. Let us explain these things methodically, and in a more serious and instructing Manner.

There are many Questions which appear very difficult, because they are not understood, which should rather be taken for Axioms, that need some Explication, than for true Questions; for some Propositions which are undeniable, when the Terms that compose them are rightly understood, must not methinks be ranked in the Number of Questions.

For Instance, It is proposed as a very difficult Question, Whether the Soul be immortal; because they who propose, or pretend to resolve it, do not distinctly apprehend the Sense of the Terms. For as the Words Soul and immortal signifie different things, and that they know not how to understand them, so they cannot tell whether the Soul is immortal, having no distinct Idea, either of what they ask, or enquire after.

By the Word Soul may be understood a Substance that thinks, wills, feels, &c. or it may be taken for the Motion or Circulation of the Blood, and the Configuration of the parts of the Body; and lastly, for the Blood it self, and the Animal Spirits. Likewise by the Word immortal, we understand what cannot perish by the ordinary Force of Nature, or what cannot be changed; or lastly, what cannot be corrupted or dissipated, as a Vapour or Smoke. The Words Soul and immortal, being suppos'd thus distinguished into their several Significations, a very mean Attention of the Mind will be able to judge whether she is immortal or not.

First, 'tis plain that the Soul taken in the first Sense, or for a thinking Substance, is immortal, if you explain immortal in the first Sense, what cannot perish by the ordinary Force of Nature; since 'tis not conceivable, that any Substance should be annihilated, but that to conceive the Possibility of it, we must have Recourse to the Omnipotence of God.

Secondly, The Soul is immortal, taking immortal in the third Sense, for what cannot be corrupted, nor resolved into Vapour, or Smoke; since 'tis evident, that what cannot be divided into several Parts, cannot be corrupted, nor resolved into Vapours.

Thirdly, The Soul is not immortal, taking it in the second Sense, for what is unchangeable; for we have convincing Proofs enow of the Alterations of our Soul, which feels one while Pain and another Pleasure, which often desires some things which she afterwards ceases to desire; which is united to a Body from which she may be separated, &c.

If the Word Soul be taken in some other Sense, it will be as easie to perceive, whether she is immortal, fixing a determin'd Sense to that Epithet. And therefore what makes such Questions difficult, is, that they are not distinctly understood, or that the Words, in which they are express'd are equivocal; so that they rather need Explication than Proof.

There are some People so dull, and others so fanciful, as that they always take the Soul for some Configuration of the Parts of the Brain, and for the Motion of the Spirits. 'Tis indeed impossible to prove that the Soul is immortal, and unperishable in that Sense, the contrary being evident: so that this is not a Question difficult to be resolved, but a Proposition which 'tis not easie to make some people apprehend; because they have not the same Ideas as we, and that they labour all they can not to have them, and to blind themselves.

When we are asked, whether the Soul is immortal, or any other Question whatsoever; we must first take off the Equivocation of Words, and know in what Sense they are understood, that we may distinctly conceive the State of the Question. If those that propose it are ignorant of the Signification, we must put Queries to them, in order to illuminate and determine them. If by these Queries we discover, that their Ideas are not agreeable with ours, 'tis in vain to answer them; for to answer one who imagines that a Desire, for instance, is nothing but the Motion of some small Particles call'd Spirits; that a Thought is but a Trace or an Image, which the Objects or those Spirits have left in the Brain; and that all the Reasonings of Men consist but in the various Situation of some little Corpuscles, which dispose themselves differently in the Head; to answer him, I say, that the Soul taken in his Sense is immortal, is to deceive him, or to appear ridiculous to him; but to tell him that she is mortal, is, in some Sense, to confirm him in a very dangerous Errour: we must then reply nothing at all, but only endeavour to make him retire into himself, that he may receive the same Ideas that we have from him who is only able to enlighten him.

'Tis likewise a Question which seems pretty difficult, To know whether Beasts have a Soul; however the Equivocation being taken off, it is so far from being hard, that those who suppose they have one, and those that think they have none, are ignorantly at bottom of the same Opinion.

The Soul may be taken for something Corporeal, dispersed through all the Body, which gives it Life and Motion; or else for something Spiritual. Those that pretend Beasts have no Soul, understand it in the second Sense; for never any Man denied that there is in Animals something Corporeal, which is the Principle of their Life or Motion; since it cannot be denied even of Watches. On the contrary, Those who assert that Beasts have Souls, understand it in the first Sense; for few believe them endued with a Spiritual and Indivisible Soul: so that both Peripateticks and Cartesians believe that Beasts have a Soul, or a Corporeal Principle of their Motion, and both think they have none, or that there's nothing in them Spiritual, and Indivisible.

And therefore the Difference betwixt the Paripateticks and Cartesians consists not in that the former believe Beasts have a Soul, and the latter deny it; but only in that the Aristotelians think that Beasts are capable of Pain and Pleasure, of perceiving Colours, hearing Sounds, and of all the other Sensations and Passions of Men; whereas the Cartesians are of a contrary Opinion. [Page] The latter distinguish the Word Sensation, to take off the Equivocation. For instance, They say that when one is too near the Fire, the Parts of Wood strike against his Hand, vibrate the Fibres; which Vibration is communicated to the Brain, and determines the Animal Spirits contained in it to disperse through the outward Parts of the Body, in such a manner as is fit to make them shrink in, or withdraw. They agree that all those things, or the like, may possibly be found in Animals, and that they actually are, as being Properties of Bodies: And the Peripateticks dissent not from it.

The Cartesians add, that the Percussion or Vibration of the Fibres of the Brain in Men, is attended with a Sensation of Heat, and that the course of the Animal Spirits to the Heart, and other Viscera, is accompanied with a Passion of Hatred, or Aversion; which Sense and Passion of the Soul they deny to be in Beasts, whereas the Peripateticks assert, that Brute Animals feel that Heat as well as we do; that they have, as we, an Aversion to what is uneasie to them; and generally, that they are capable of all our Sensations and Passions. The Cartesians do not think that Beasts are sensible of Pleasure or Pain, nor that they love or hate any thing; because they admit nothing in them but what is material, and believe not that Sensations and Passions may be Properties of any Matter whatsoever. On the contrary some Peripateticks esteem Matter capable of Sensation and Passion, when 'tis extremely subtle and refined; that Beasts may feel, by means of the Animal Spirits, that is to say, of a very subtle and fine Matter; and that our Soul is susceptible of Sensation and Passion, only because she is united to such a Matter.

And therefore to resolve that Question, Whether Beasts have a Soul, we must retire within our selves, and consider with all possible Attention our Idea of Matter: if we can conceive that Matter so and so figur'd, as square, round, oval, &c. is some Pain, Pleasure, Heat, Colour, Odour, Sound, &c. then we may assert that the Soul of Beasts, though never so material, is however capable of Sense; but if we cannot conceive it, we must not assert it; for we must assure no farther than we can conceive. And likewise if we conceive that Matter toss'd and extremely agitated upwards, downwards, in a Circular, Spiral, Parabolical, Elliptick Line, &c. is any thing of Love, Hatred, Joy, Sorrow, &c. We may say that Beasts have the same Passions as we, but if we apprehend it not, we must not say it, unless we will speak without understanding our selves. But I am sure no Motion of Matter will ever be mistaken for Love, or Joy, by him that shall earnestly think upon it: So that to resolve that Question, Whether Beasts have Sense, we need only take off Equivocation, as those that are called Cartesians use to do; for then that Question will be made so simple and easie, as to be resolved with a little Attention.

'Tis true that St. Austin supposing, according to the common prejudice of Mankind,Lib. 4. de Anima & ejus Origine. Cap. 23. de quantitate Animae & alias. that Beasts have a Soul; which he never doubted of, as far as I can perceive, because he never seriously examin'd it in his Works: this great Man, I say, perceiving that it is contradictory to say, that a Soul, or a Substance which thinks, feels desires, &c. is material, believed that the Soul of Beasts was really spiritual and indivisible. He proves by very evident Reasons, that a Soul, or whatever has Sense, Imagination, Fear, Desire, &c. must needs be Spiritual; but I never observed that he produc'd any Reason to maintain that Beasts have Souls. He even cares not to prove it, because 'tis likely that scarce any body doubted of it in his time.

There being now Men, who endeavour wholly to free themselves of their Prejudices, and call in Question all Opinions that are not grounded upon clear demonstrative Reasonings: it has been call'd into doubt, whether Animals have a Soul susceptible of the same Sensations and Passions as ours; however there are still several Defenders of the ancient Prejudices, who pretend to prove that Beasts feel, will, think, and argue, even as we do, though in a more imperfect manner.

Dogs, say they, know their Masters, love them, and patiently bear the Blows they receive from them, as judging it their best interest not to forsake them; but as to Strangers, they hate them so much as not to away with their Flatterings. All Animals love their Young; Birds, which build their Nests in the extremities of the Branches, sufficiently shew, that they are afraid lest some Creature should devour them: They judge those Branches too weak to bear their Enemies, though strong enough to support both their Young and their Nests. Even Spiders, and the vilest Insects, give some Intimations of an Intelligence that animates them: For one cannot but wonder at the conduct of a little Beast, which though it be blind, yet finds means to trapan in its Nets, others that have Eyes and Wings, and are so bold as to attack the biggest Animals we see.

I grant that all the actions that Beasts perform are certain indications of an Intelligence; for whatever is regular demonstrates it. A Watch shews the same; for 'tis impossible Chance should have composed its Wheels, but an understanding Agent must have ordered its Motions. We plant a Seed inverted, the Roots that were upward sink down into the Ground of themselves, and the Seminal Nib that was turn'd downwards endeavours to alter its Position, to break out: That intimates an Intelligence. That Plant produces Knots at certain Distances, to strenghen it self; it covers its Seed with a Skin that preserves it, and surrounds it with Prickles to defend it: This still denotes an Intelligence. In short, whatever we see done, either by Plants or by Animals, undoubtedly denotes an understanding Agent. All the true Cartesians agree to it, but they make Distinctions, to take away as much as possible, the Equivocation of Words.

The Motions of Beasts and Plants intimate an Intelligence, but that Intelligence is not Matter, and is much distinguished from Beasts, as that which disposes the Wheels of a Watch is distinguished from the Watch it self. For that Intelligent Being seems infinitely Wise, Powerful, and infinitely the same who has framed us in our Mother's Womb, and affords us a growth to which all the [Page] attempts of our Mind and Will cannot add so much as a Span. And therefore there is in Beasts neither Understanding nor Soul, in the sense those Words are commonly taken. They eat without pleasure, they cry without Pain, they grow without being conscious of it, they neither desire, nor fear, nor know any thing; and if they act in such a manner as intimates an Intelligence, it is because God having made them for a certain time, he has framed their Body in such a manner as that they machinally, and without Fear, shun whatever is able to destroy them. Otherwise it must be said, that there is more Understanding in the smallest Insect, or even in a little Seed, than in the most Ingenious Man; it being certain that there are in them more different Parts, and regular Motions, than we are able to know.

But as Men are used to confound all things, and imagine that their Soul produces in their Bodies most or all the Motions and Changes which befal it, they fix to the Word Soul the wrong Idea of Former and Preserver of the Body. So that thinking that their Soul produces in them whatever is absolutely requisite to the Preservation of their Life, though she knows not so much as the Contexture of the Body which she animates, they judge that there must needs be a Soul in Beasts, to produce all the Motions and Changes which befall them, because they are so like those which occur in us. For Beasts are begot, fed, strengthened, as our Body: they eat, drink, sleep, as we do; because we are altogether like them, as to our Body: the only Difference betwixt us and them consisting in this, that we have a Soul, and they have none. But our Soul frames not our Body, digests not our Aliments, and gives no Motion and Heat to our Blood. She feels, wills, argues, and animates the Body, as to the Sensations and Passions that relate to it: but not by dispersing her self through our Members, to communicate Sense and Life to them; for our Body can receive nothing of what belongs to the Mind. Thence 'tis plain, that the Reason why we cannot resolve several Questions, proceeds from our not distinguishing, and even from our not thinking to distinguish the different significations of a Word.

'Tis true, that we distinguish sometimes, but we do it so ill, that instead of taking off the Equivocation of Words by our Distinctions, we make them more perplexed and dark. For instance, when we are asked, whether the Body lives, how it lives, and in what manner the Rational Soul animates it. Whether the Animal Spirits, the Blood, and other Humours live; whether the Teeth, the Hair, and the Nails are animated, &c. we distinguish the Words, live and be animated, in living or being animated with a Rational, with a Sensitive, or with a Vegetative Soul. But that Distinction is only fit to perplex the Question; for those Words want an Explanation themselves; and perhaps the two last, Vegetative and Sensitive, are inexplicable and inconceivable in the Sense they are commonly understood.

If we desire to fix a clear and distinct Idea to the Word Life, we may say, That the Life of the Soul is the Knowledge of Truth, and the love of Good; or rather, that her Thoughts are her Life; and that the Life of the Body consists in the Circulation of the Blood, and the just Proportion and Mixture of Humours; or rather, that the Life of the Body is such a Motion of its parts as is fit for its Preservation. The Ideas fix'd to the Word Life being thus made plain, it will evidently appear, First, That the Soul cannot communicate her Life to the Body, since she cannot make it think. Secondly, That she cannot give it the Life by which it is fed, grows, &c. since she knows not so much as what is requisite to digest our Aliments. Thirdly, That she cannot make it feel, since Matter is incapable of Sensation, &c. Thus all other Questions concerning that Subject, may be resolved without Trouble; provided the Words, in which they are express'd, excite clear Ideas; for if they raise confused and dark, it is impossible to solve them.

In the mean while, 'tis not always absolutely necessary to have Ideas that perfectly represent those things, the Relations of which we desire to examine. It is often sufficient to have but an initial or imperfect Knowledge of them, because we seek not always exactly to know their Relations. I shall explain this more at large.

There are Truths or Relations of two Sorts; some are exactly known, and others but imperfectly. We exactly know the Relation betwixt such a Square, and such a Triangle, but have only an imperfect Knowledge of the Relation betwixt London and York. We know that such a Square is equal to such a Triangle, double or treble of it, &c. but we only know that London is bigger than York, without knowing precisely how much.

Moreover there are infinite Degrees of Imperfection in Knowledge; and no Knowledge is imperfect, but in reference to a more perfect. For Instance, We know that London is bigger than Lincoln's Inn [...]ields, and that Knowledge is only imperfect, in Relation to another more exact, by which we might accurately know, how much London is larger than that open place contained in it.

There are therefore several sorts of Questions. First, There are some in which we seek a perfect Knowledge of all the exact Relations of two or several things betwixt each other.

Secondly, There are some in which we search after the perfect Knowledge of some exact Relation betwixt two or several things.

Thirdly, There are some in which we enquire after the perfect Knowledge of some Relation nearly approaching to the exact Relation, that is betwixt two or more several things.

Fourthly, There are some in which we are content to find a general and indefinite Relation.

'Tis evident, First, That to resolve the Questions of the First sort, and perfectly to know all the exact Relations of Magnitude and Quality betwixt two or more things; we must have distinct Ideas perfectly representing them, and compare them together in all the possible manners. We may, for Instance, resolve all the Questions that tend to discover the exact Relations betwixt 2 and 8, because both Numbers being accurately known may be compared together, as much as is [Page] necessary to know the exact Relations of their Magnitude and Quality. We may know that 8 is 4 times 2, and that 8 and 2 are even, but not square Numbers.

'Tis plain, Secondly, That to resolve Questions of the second sort, and accurately to know some Relation of Magnitude or Quality, which is betwixt two or more things; 'tis necessary and sufficient distinctly to know those Faces by which they must be compared, to discover the enquired Relation. For Instance, to resolve such Questions as tend to discover some exact Relations betwixt 4 and 16, as that 4 and 16 are even and square Numbers, it's sufficient exactly to know that 4 and 16 can be divided into equal parts without Fractions, and that both are the product of a Number multiplied by it self; and 'tis to no purpose to examine what is their true Magnitude: It being plain, that to know the exact Relations of Quality betwixt things, a distinct Idea of their Quality is sufficient, without thinking on their Magnitude; and that to know the exact Relations of Magnitude, we need not search after the true Quality, an accurate Knowledge of their Magnitude being all that is required.

Thirdly, It clearly appears that to resolve the Questions of the third sort, or to know some Relation very near approaching the exact Relation that is betwixt two or several things; it is enough nearly to know the Faces by which they must be compared, to discover the Relation required, whether it be of Magnitude or Quality. For Instance, I may evidently know that the √ 8 is greater than 2, because I may very near know the true Magnitude of the √ 8; but I cannot discover how much the √ 8 is greater than 2, because I cannot exactly find out the true Magnitude of the √ 8.

Lastly, 'Tis evident that to resolve the Questions of the fourth sort, or to discover general and undefinite Relations, it is enough to know things in a manner propotion'd to the need we stand in of comparing them together, to find out the required Relation. So that 'tis not necessary to the Solution of all sorts of Questions, to have very distinct Ideas of their Terms, or perfectly to know the things expressed by those words. But our knowledge must be the more exact, as the Relations we search after are more accurate and numerous: For as we have said in imperfect Questions, imperfect Ideas of the things consider'd are sufficient to resolve them perfectly, that is, as far as they reach. And many Questions may be resolved even without any distinct Idea of their Terms; as when we are ask'd whether Fire is capable of melting Salt, hardning Clay, resolving Lead into Vapours, and the like, we understand perfectly those Questions, and may very well solve them, though we have no distinct Idea of Fire, Salt, Clay, &c. Because the Querists only desire to know, whether we are ascertained by sensible Experiments that Fire produces those Effects. And therefore may receive a satisfactory Answer, by a knowledge drawn from the Senses.

CHAP. VIII.

An Application of the other Rules to particular Questions.

QUestions are of two sorts, some are simple and others compound. The former may be solved by the bare Attention of the Mind to the Ideas of the words, in which they are expressed: but the Solution of the latter must be perform'd by comparing them to a third or to many other Ideas. We cannot find out the unknown Relations that are express'd in the Terms of a Question, by immediately comparing the Ideas of those Terms, since they can neither be joined nor compared. We must then have one or several mean Ideas, that we may make such Comparisons, as are necessary to discover those Relations; taking a special Care that those mean Ideas be the more clear and distinct, as the Relations enquired after are more exact and numerous.

That Rule is but a Consequence of the first, but of an equal importance with it. For if exactly to know the Relation of the things compared, it is necessary to have clear and distinct Ideas of them: It plainly follows from the same Reason, that we must have an accurate knowledge of the mean Ideas, by which we intend to make our Comparisons; since we must distinctly know the Relation of measure with each of the things measured, to find out their Relations. I shall give some Instances of it.

When we put a piece of Cork, or other small and light Vessel, in the Water, with a Loadstone in it, and offer to the North Pole of that Stone the same Pole of another Magnet which we keep in our Hands, we presently perceive that the former Load-stone flies back, as though it were driven by a violent Wind. 'Tis requir'd to discover the Cause of that Effect.

'Tis plain that to render a Reason of the Motion of that Load-stone, it is not sufficient to know the Relations it has to the other; for we might perfectly know them all, and yet not understand how two Bodies could repel each other without meeting.

We must therefore examine what are the Things which we distinctly conceive capable, according to the Course of Nature, of moving Bodies; for 'tis requir'd to find out the natural Cause of the Motion of a Load-stone, which is certainly a Body. And therefore we must not have recourse to any Quality, Form, or Being, which by a clear Knowledge we cannot conceive capable of moving Bodies; neither must we ascribe their Effect to an understanding Agent, since we are not assur'd that Intelligences are the ordinary Causes of the natural Motions of Bodies, and know not so much as whether they can produce Motion.

We plainly know that it is a natural Law, that Bodies should move each other when they meet: We must then endeavour to explain the Motion of the Load-stone, by the Means of some [Page] concurrent Body. 'Tis true that something besides a Body may move it; but as long as we have no distinct Idea of that Thing, we must not admit it as a proper Means to discover what is searched after, nor to explain it to others; for to contrive a Cause which none clearly conceives, is not to give account of an Effect. We must not then trouble our selves to enquire whether there is, or is not any other natural Cause of the Motion of Bodies, besides the mutual Impulse; but rather suppose that there is none, and attentively consider what Bodies may meet with, and move that Load-stone.

We presently see that it is not mov'd by the Magnet we keep in our Hands, since it touches it not; but because 'tis mov'd only when that Magnet is brought near it, and that it moves not of it self▪ we must infer that it is mov'd by some small Effluviums, or little Bodies, that proceed from that Magnet, and are driven to the other Load-stone.

To discover those Corpuscles, we must not open our Eyes, nor nearly consider that Magnet; for our Senses might impose upon our Reason, and make us judge that nothing proceeds out of it, because we perceive it not. Perhaps we should not reflect that we see not the most impetuous Winds, nor several other Bodies that produce very surprizing Effects: We must then keep close to that clear and intelligible Means, and carefully examine all the Effects of a Load-stone, to discover how that Magnet may continually vent so many little Bodies, without diminishing; for the Experiments we shall make will discover, that the small Particles that evaporate at one side, immediately re-enter through another; and will serve to explain all the Difficulties that may be objected against the Method of solving this Question. But it must be observ'd, that this Medium must not be forsaken, though we should not be able to answer some Objections proceeding from our Ignorance in several things.

If we desire not to examine why Load-stones remove from each other when their Poles of the same Name are in Opposition to each other, but rather why they approach and endeavour to unite together when the North Pole of one is opposite to the South Pole of the other, the Question will be more difficult, and one Medium alone will not be sufficient to resolve it; for it is not enough exactly to know the Relations betwixt the Poles of those two Load-stones, nor to have recourse to the Medium propos'd in the fore-going Question; for that Means seems only fit to hinder the Effect, whereof the Cause is sought for: Neither must we propose any of those Things that are not clearly known to be the natural and ordinary Causes of Corporeal Motion; nor evade the Difficulty of the Question, by the rambling and uncertain Notion of an Occult Quality in Load-stones, by which they attract each other; for the Mind cannot conceive any such Attraction in Bodies.

The Impenetrability of Bodies plainly convinces us, that Motion may be communicated by Impulsion; and Experience evidently proves, that it is communicated that way: But there is no Reason, nor Experiment, that clearly demonstrates the Motion of Attraction; for when the true and certain Cause of the Experiments, which are alledg'd to prove that sort of Motion, is found out, it is visible that what appear'd to be done by Attraction, is produc'd by Impulsion. We must not therefore insist upon any other Communication of Motion but that effected by Impulsion, since this Way is sure, and undeniable; whereas all the others imaginable have at least some Obscurity in them. But though it might be demonstrated, that mere Corporeal Things have some other Principles of Motion besides the Concourse of Bodies, this might not however be reasonably rejected, but must rather be insisted upon preferably to all others, it being the most clear, and most evident; and appearing so undeniable, that we may confidently assert, that it has always been receiv'd by all Nations and Ages in the World.

Experience shews, that a Load-stone, freely swimming upon the Water, draws towards that which we keep in our Hands when their different Poles are opposite to each other; we must then conclude, that the Load-stone upon the Water is driven to it. But as the Magnet we hold cannot drive the other, seeing this other approaches it, and that the free Load-stone only moves at the Presence of the other Magnet, 'tis plain that to resolve this Question by the receiv'd Principle of the Communication of Motions, we must have recourse to two Means at least.

[figure]

The Load-stone c approaches the Magnet C, and therefore the surrounding Air drives it, since no other Body can do it; that's the first Means. The Load-stone c moves not, except at the Presence of the Magnet C; and therefore the Magnet C must needs determine the Air, to drive the Load-stone c; that's the second Means. 'Tis evident these two Means are absolutely necessary: So that now the whole Difficulty consists in joining those two Means together; which may be done two several Ways; either beginning by something known in the Air, that encompasses the Load-stone c; or by something known in the Magnet C.

If we know that the Parts of the Air are in perpetual Agitation, as those of all fluid Bodies use to be, we shall not doubt but they continually strike against the Load-stone c, which they surround; but because they strike it equally on all sides, they impel it one way no more than another, [Page] as long as there is an equal Quantity of Air on all sides. It being so, 'tis easie to judge that the Magnet C hinders, lest there should be as much Air towards a as towards b, which cannot be done but by its diffusing some other Corpuscles betwixt C and c, and therefore there ex [...]ale such Particles ou [...] of both Load-stones, which filling up that Space, and carrying away the Air about a, make the Load-stone c less press'd on that side than on the other; and it must by consequence approach the Magnet C, since all Bodies move towards the side on which there is the least Pressure or Resistance.

But if in the Load-stone c, about the Pole a, there were not many Pores fit to receive the small Particles streaming out of the Pole B of the Magnet C, and too small to admit those of the Air, 'tis plain that those small Particles being more agitated than the Air, since they are to chase it from betwixt the Load-stones, they would drive the Load-stone c, and remove it from the Magnet C: Therefore, since the Load-stone c approaches to, or removes from the Magnet C, according as they are oppos'd by different or the same Poles, we must needs infer that the Poles a and b of the Load-stone c are full of different Pores; otherwise, the small Particles issuing out of the Magnet C could not have a free Passage, without impelling the Load-stone c at the side a, nor would they repel it at the side b. What I say of one of these Load-stones, must be understood of the other.

'Tis plain that we always learn something by that Method of Arguing from clear Ideas, and undeniable Principles: For we have discover'd that the Air which environs the Load-stone c, was driven from thence by Corpuscles perpetually flowing out of the Pores of both Load-stones; which Corpuscles find a free Passage at one side, but are shut out at the other. If we desir'd nearly to discover the Bigness and Figure of the Pores of the Load-stone through which those Particles pass, we ought to make other Experiments; but that would lead us to Subjects which we intend not to trea [...] of. The Curious may consult des Cartes's Principles of Philosophy: I only observe, as an Answer to an Objection which will presently be made against this Hypothesis; that is, Why those small Particles cannot re-enter through the Pores from whence they came? That besides that the Pores of the Load-stones may be suppos'd to be wrought like the Channelling of a Screw, which may pruduce the propos'd Effect; it may be said likewise, that the small Branches, of which those Pores are made, bend one way to obey and yield to the Motion of the entring Particles; whereas they stand on end, and shut them out another way: So that we must not be surpriz'd at this Difference betwixt the Pores of the Load-stone, for it may be explain'd in several manners, and the only Difficulty consists in chusing the best.

If we had endeavour'd to resolve the fore-mention'd Question, beginning with the Corpuscles that are suppos'd to stream out of the Magnet C, we should have found the same; and likewise discover'd that Air is compos'd of an infinite Number of Parts that are in a perpetual Motion, without which it would be impossible that the Load-stone c could approach the Magnet C. I insist not on the Explication of this, because there is no Difficulty in it.

Here follows a Question more compound and complicate than the fore-going; for the Solution of which, 'tis necessary to make use of many Rules. 'Tis ask'd, Which may be the Natural and Mechanical Cause of the Motion of our Members.

The Idea of Natural Cause is clear and distinct when understood, as I have explain'd it in the former Question: But the Words, Motion of our Members, are equivocal and confus'd, because there are several such Motions; some being Voluntary, others Natural, and others Convulsive. There are also different Members in the Humane Body; and therefore, according to the first Rule, I must ask, Of which of these Motions the Cause is requir'd from me? But if the Question be left undetermin'd, and to my Discretion, I examine it after this manner.

I attentively consider the Properties of those Motions; and discovering at first that Voluntary Motions are sooner perform'd than Convulsive, I infer that their Cause is different, and therefore that I may and must examine the Question by Parts, for it seems to require a long Discussion.

I restrain then my self to consider only Voluntary Motions; and because several of our Members are employ'd about them, I content my self for the present with the Consideration of the Arm. I observe that it is compos'd of several Muscles, which are most or all in Action when we raise so [...]ething from the Ground, or remove it from one place to the other: But I only insist upon one, being willing to suppose that the others are very near fashion'd after the same manner. I inform my self of its Texture and Shape by some Book of Anatomy, or rather by the sensible Sight of its Fibres and Tendons, which I cause to be dissected in my presence, by some skilful Anatomist, to whom I put all the Queries which, in the sequel, may exhibit to my Mind a Medium to find out what I seek for.

After such a serious Consideration, I cannot doubt but the Principle of the Motion of my Arm depends on the Contraction of its Muscles which compose it. I am likewise content, lest I should puzzle my self with too many Difficulties, to suppose, according to the common Opinion, that this Contraction is perform'd by the Animal Spirits, which filling up the Ventricle of those Muscles, may cause their Extremities to come nearer. Now the whole Question concerning Voluntary Motion is reduc'd to this Point; How the small Quantity of Animal Spirits which are contain'd in our Arm, may at the Command of the Will, so suddenly swell the Muscles, as to afford a sufficient Strength to list up an Hundred Weight, or more.

Upon an attentive Reflexion thereupon, the first Means that offers it self to the Imagination, is commonly that of a quick and violent Fermentation, like to that of Gun-powder, or of some Liquors fill'd with Volatile Salt, when they are mix'd with others that are Acid, or full of a [Page] fixed Salt. A small quantity of Gun-powder is able, when kindled, to raise not only an Hundred Weight, but even a Tower, and a Mountain. Earthquakes, that overthrow Cities, and shake whole Countries, proceed from Spirits kindling under the Ground, almost as Gun-powder▪ So that supposing in the Arm such a Cause of the Fermentation and Dilatation of the Spirits, it may be look'd upon as the Principle of that Force, by which Men perform so sudden and violent Motions.

But as we ought to mistrust those Means that are offer'd to the Mind by the Senses, and of which we have no clear and evident Knowledge, so we must not easily admit this; for it is not sufficient to give an Account of the Strength and Quickness of our Motions, by a Comparison: For this is both a confus'd, and imperfect Account; because we are here to explain a voluntary Motion, and Fermentation is not so. The Blood is exceedingly fermented in Fevers, and we cannot hinder it: The Spirits are inflam'd and agitated in the Brain, but we cannot rule their Agitation, nor lessen it by our Desire. When a Man moves the Arm several Ways, a Thousand Fermentations, great and small, swift and [...]low, ought to begin, and (what is harder to explain) to end likewise in a Moment, as often and as soon as it is desir'd, if this Hypothesis were true. Besides, Those Fermentations ought not to dissipate all their Matter, but need always be ready to take Fire. When a Man has walk'd Twenty Miles, how many Thousand times must the Muscles, employ'd in walking, have been fill'd and empty'd; and what a vast quantity of Spirits would be requir'd, if Fermentation should dissipate and deaden them so often? And therefore this Supposition is insufficient to explain such Motions of our Body as entirely depend upon our Will.

'Tis plain that the present Question may be reduc'd to this Problem of Mechanicks, To find [...]ut by Pneumatick Engines a Means to overcome such a Force as an Hundred Weight by another Force, though never so small; as that of an Ounce Weight: And that the Application of that small Force may produce the desir'd Effect, at the Discretion of the Will. The Solution of that Problem is easie, and the Demonstration of it clear.

It may be solv'd by a Vessel which hath two Orifices, one of which is a little more than 1600 times larger than the other, in which the Pipes of two equal Bellows are inserted; and let a Force precisely 1600 times stronger than the other be apply'd to the Bellows of the larger Mouth, for then the Force 1600 times weaker shall overcome the stronger. The Demonstration of which is clear in Mechanicks, since the Forces are not exactly in a reciprocal Proportion with their Mouths; and that the Relation of the weaker Force to the smaller Mouth, is greater than the Relation of the stronger Force to the larger Mouth.

But to solve this Problem by an Engine which sets better before the Eyes the Effect of the Muscles, than the Former: We must blow a little in a Foot-ball, and hinder the Air from going out with a Sucker; then put upon that Foot-ball, half full of Wind, a Stone of 5 or 600 weight; or having set it on a Table, lay on it a Board, and on that Board a huge Stone, or cause a heavy Man to sit upon the Board, allowing him to hold by something, that he may sit the faster upon the rising Foot-ball; for if you blow again into it only with the Mouth, it will raise the Stone that compresses it, or the Man that sits upon it. The Reason of this is, that the Mouth of the Foot-ball is so small, or at least must be suppos'd so, in comparison to the Capaciousness of the Foot-ball that withstands the Weight of the Stone, that by such means a very small, is able to overcome a very great Force.

If we also consider that Breath alone is capable of violently driving a Leaden Ball through a long and strait Trunk, because the Strength of the Breath is not dissipated, but continually renew'd, it will visibly appear, that the necessary Proportion betwixt the Mouth and the largeness of the Foot-ball being suppos'd, Breath alone may overcome a very considerable Force.

If we therefore conceive that the whole Muscles, or each of the Fibres of which they are made, have, as this Foot-ball, a competent Capacity to admit Animal Spirits, that the Pores through which those Spirits flow are yet proportionably straiter than the Neck of a Bladder, or the Aperture of the Foot-ball; that the Spirits are detain'd in, or driven through the Nerves, almost as the Breath through a Trunk; that the Spirits are more agitated than the Air of the Lungs, and driven with a greater Violence to the Muscles than it is in a Bladder; we shall perceive that the Motion of the Spirits which are dispers'd through the Muscles, can conquer the Force of the heaviest Weight we carry; and that if we cannot move other more ponderous, this Want of Strength proceeds not so much from the Spirits, as from the Fibres and Membranes of which the Muscles are compos'd, which would burst should we make too great an Effort. Besides, If we observe that by the Laws of the Union betwixt Soul and Body, the Motion of those Spirits, as to their Determination, depends on the Will of Man, we shall see that the Motion of the Arm must needs be voluntary.

'Tis true that we move our Arm so readily, that it seems, at first sight, incredible that the Course of the Spirits into the Muscles should be so swift as to effect that Motion. But we ought to consider that those Spirits are extremely agitated, always ready to pass from one Muscle into another; and that a small quantity of that Spirituous Liquor may sufficiently swell them up, so as to move them, or to lift up from the Ground something very light: For we cannot raise great Weights very readily, because that Effort requires a great stretching and swelling of the Muscles, which cannot be perform'd by the Spirits that are in the neighbouring or Antagonist Muscles; and therefore some Time is requir'd to call in more Spirits to their help, and in such a Quantity, as that they may be able to withstand the Heaviness of the Weight. Thus we see that [Page] those that are loaden cannot run, and that a ponderous thing is not lifted up from the Ground so readily as a Straw.

If we consider that those that are of a fiery Temper, or heated with Wine, are quicker than others; that amongst living Creatures, those whose Spirits are more agitated, as Birds, move swifter than those in which Blood is colder, as it is in Frogs; and that in some of them, as the Chamelion, the Tortoise, and some Insects, the Spirits are so little agitated, that their Muscles are not sooner fill'd than a Foot-ball would be by the Breath of a Man. All these things being well observ'd, may probably make our Explication acceptable.

But though that part of the Question propos'd which concerns Voluntary Motions be sufficiently resolv'd, yet we must not assert that it is fully and perfectly, or that nothing else in our Body contributes to those Motions besides what has been mention'd; for most probably there are a Thousand Springs that facilitate them, which will for ever be unknown, even to those who give a better Guess upon the Works of God.

The second Part of the Question to be examin'd concerns the Natural Motions, or those that have nothing extraordinary in them, as Convulsions have; but are absolutely necessary to the Preservation of our Machine, and consequently altogether independent on our Will.

I first consider with all the possible Attention, what Motions have those Conditions, and whether they are perfectly alike: And as I quickly perceive that they are for the most part different from each other, lest I should perplex my self with too many things, I shall only insist upon the Motion of the Heart; which, of all the inward Parts, is the best known, and its Motions the most sensible. Whilst I examine its Construction, I observe two Things, amongst many others: First, That it is compos'd of Fibres, as the other Muscles: And Secondly, That there are two remarkable Cavities in it: And therefore I judge that its Motion may be perform'd by means of the Animal Spirits, since it is a Muscle; and that the Blood ferments and dilates in it, since it has Cavities. The first of these Judgments is founded upon what I have said before: The second, upon the Heart's being much hotter than any other Parts of the Body; and that it diffuses Heat, together with Blood, into all our Members; and that those two Ventricles could neither be form'd, nor preserv'd, but by the Dilatation of the Blood: So that they are subservient to the Cause that has produc'd them. I can then give a sufficient Reason of the Motion of the Heart, by the Spirits that agitate, and the Blood that dilates it, during the Fermentation: For though the Cause I alledge of its Motion should not be true, yet I plainly see that it is sufficient to produce it.

It may be, that the Principle of Fermentation or Dilatation of Liquors is not so well known to all Readers, as that I may pretend to have explain'd an Effect, by generally shewing that it proceeds from Fermentation: But all particular Questions are not to be resolv'd by ascending to the first Cause, though that may be done too, and a true System on which all particular Effects depend, discover'd, provided we only insist upon clear Ideas. But that Way of Philosophizing is neither the exactest, nor yet the shortest.

To comprehend this, it must be observ'd that there are Questions of two sorts; in the first, it is requir'd to discover the Nature and Properties of some Thing; in the others, we only desire to know whether a Thing has such or such Properties; or if we know it has, we desire only to discover what is the Cause of them.

To solve the Questions of the first sort, we must consider Things in their Birth and Original, and conceive that they are always produc'd by the most simple and natural Ways: But the Solution of the others requires a very different Method, for they must be resolv'd by Suppositions; and then we must examine whether those Suppositions induce into any Absurdity, or whether they lead to any Truth plainly and clearly known.

For instance, We desire to discover the Properties of the Roulet, or some one of the Conick Sections: We must consider those Lines in their Generation, and form them by the most simple and least perplexing Ways; for that is the best and shortest Means to discover their Nature and Properties. We easily see that the Sub [...]endent of the Roulet is equal to the Circle whence it is form'd: And if we discover not many of its Properties that way, 'tis because the Circular Line that produces it is not sufficiently known. But as to Lines merely Mathematical, the Relations of which may be more clearly known, such as are Conick Sections; 'tis sufficient for the discovering a vast Number of their Properties, to consider them in their Generation: Only we must observe, that as they may be produc'd by a Regular Motion several Ways, so all sorts of Generation are not equally proper to enlighten the Mind; that the most simple are the best; and that it often happens, notwithstanding that some particular Methods are fitter than others, to demonstrate some particular Properties.

But when it is not requir'd to discover in general the Properties of a Thing, but to know whether such a Thing has such a Property; then we must suppose that it actually enjoys it, and carefully examine the Consequences of that Supposition, whether it induces into a manifest Absurdity, or leads to an undeniable Truth, that may serve as a Means to find out what is sought for. That is the Method which Geometricians use to solve their Problems: They suppose what they seek, and examine what will follow of it; they attentively consider the Relations that result from the Supposition; they represent all those Relations that contain the Conditions of the Problem, by Equations, and then reduce those Equations, according to the usual Rules; so that what is unknown, is found equal to one or several Things perfectly known.

[Page]I say therefore, that when 'tis requir'd to discover in general the Nature of Fire, and of the different Fermentations, which are the most universal Causes of natural Effects, the shortest and surest Way is to examine them in their Principle. We must consider the Formation of the most agitated Bodies, the Motion of which is diffus'd into those that ferment. We must by clear Ideas, and by the most simple Ways, examine what Motion may produce in Matter. And because Fire and the various Fermentations are very general Things, and consequently depending upon few Causes, there will be no need of considering very long what Matter is able to perform when animated by Motion, to find out the Nature of Fermentation in its very Principle; and we shall learn withall several other Things, altogether requisite to the Knowledge of Physicks: Whereas he that would in such a Question argue from Suppositions, so as to ascend to the first Causes, even to the Laws of Nature, by which all things are form'd, would make a great many of them that should prove false and unprofitable.

He might perhaps discover that the Cause of the Fermentation is the Motion of an invisible Matter; communicated to the agitated Parts of Matter: For 'tis sufficiently known, that Fire and the various Fermentations of Bodies, consist in their Agitation; and that by the Laws of Nature, Bodies receive their immediate Motion only from their meeting with others that are more agitated: So that he might discover that there is an invisible Matter, the Motion of which is communicated to visible Bodies by Fermentation. But 'tis morally impossible that he should ever, by his Suppositions find out how all that is perform'd; which however is not so hard to do, when we examine the Formation of Elements, or of Bodies, of which there is a greater Number of the same Nature; as is to be seen in Monsieur des Cartes's System.

The Third Part of the Question concerning Convulsive Motions, will not be very difficult to solve, if we suppose that there are in our Bodies Animal Spirits susceptible of Fermentation; and withall, Humours so piercing, as to insinuate themselves into the Pores of the Nerves, through which the Spirits are di [...]us'd into the Muscles; provided always that we pretend not to determine the true Texture and Disposition of those invisible Parts that contribute to these Convulsions.

When we have separated a Muscle from the rest of the Body, and hold it by the two Ends, we sensibly perceive that it endeavours to contract it self when prick'd in the Middle. 'Tis likely that this depends on the Construction of the imperceptible Parts, of which it is made; which are as so many Springs determin'd to some certain Motions, by that of Compunction. But who can be sure he has found out the true Disposition of the Parts employ'd in the Production of that Motion; and who can give an uncontroverted Demonstration of it? Certainly that appears altogether impossible, though perhaps by long thinking we might imagine such a Construction of Muscles, as would be fit to perform all the Motions we know them to be capable of; we must not therefore pretend to determine the true Construction of the Muscles. However, because it cannot be reasonably doubted, but that there are Spirits susceptible of some Fermentation, by the Mixture of a very subtile heterogeneous Matter; and that acriminious and pungent Humours may creep into the Nerves, that Hypothesis may be suppos'd.

Now to proceed to the Solution of the Question propos'd: We must first examine how many sorts of Convulsive Motions there are; and because their Number is indefinite, we must insist on the Principal, the Causes of which seem to be different: We must consider in what Parts they are made, what Diseases precede and follow them; whether they are attended with Pain, or free from it; and above all, what are the Degrees of their Swiftness and Violence; for some are very swift and violent; others are very swift, but not violent; a third sort are violent, and not swift; and others again are free from both these Symptoms: Some finish and begin afresh perpetually, others keep the Parts rigid and unmoveable for some time; and others deprive us of their Use, and altogether deform them.

All this being well weigh'd, it will be no hard matter to explain in general, after what has been said concerning Natural and Voluntary Motions, how the Convulsive are perform'd: For if we conceive that some Matter, capable of fermenting the Spirits, mixes with those contain'd in a Muscle, it must needs swell up, and produce in that part a Convulsive Motion.

If that Motion may easily be resisted, 'tis a sign that the Nerves are not yet obstructed by any Humour, since we may empty the Muscle of the Spirits that have enter'd into it, and determine them to swell up the opposite Muscle. But if we cannot do it, we must conclude that pungent and piercing Humours have some part at least in that Motion: Even it may often happen that those Humours are the only Cause of Convulsions, since they may determine the Course of the Spirits to some certain Muscles, by opening some Passages that convey them, and shutting others: Besides, that they may contract the Tendons and Fibres, by penetrating their Pores.

When a very ponderous Weight hangs at the end of a Rope, it may considerably be rais'd by only wetting that Cord; because the Particles of Water penetrating as so many little Wedges betwixt the Threads of the Rope, shorten it by dilating it: So the piercing and pungent Humours, insinuating into the Pores of the Nerves, contract them, stretch the Parts to which they are tied, and produce in the Body Convulsive Motions, that are extremely slow, violent and painful, and and often leave the Part sadly distorted for a long time.

As to the Convulsive Motions that are very swift, they are caus'd by the Spirits; but it is not necessary that those Spirits should receive any Fermentation; 'tis enough that the Conduits, through which they pass, be more open at one side than at the other.

[Page]When all the Parts of the Body are in their natural Situation, the Animal Spirits diffuse themselves equally and readily through them, according to the Necessities of the Machine, and faithfully perform the Orders of the Will. But when Humours disturb the Disposition of the Brain, alter or variously move the Apertures of the Nerves, or penetrate into the Muscles, they agitate their Springs; and the Spirits diffusing into those Parts after a new and unusual manner, produce extraordinary Motions, without the Consent of the Will.

However, we may often, by a strong Resistance, hinder some of those Motions, and insensibly diminish the Traces that produce them, even when the Habit is wholly form'd. Those that look carefully to themselves, find little Difficulty in preventing Grimaces, unbecoming Gestures, and a sourish Countenance, though their Body have a Disposition to them; and may even conquer them when strengthen'd by Habit, but with a great deal more Difficulty; for such Dispositions should always be oppos'd in their Birth, and before the Spirits have traced out a Way not easie to be stopp'd up.

The Cause of those Motions is often in the agitated Muscle, and proceeds from some pungent Humour, or fermenting Spirits; but we must judge that it is in the Brain, especially when the Convulsions agitate not one or two parts of the Body, but most or all; and withall, in several Diseases which alter the natural Constitution of the Blood and Spirits.

'Tis true, that one Nerve often having different Branches, which disperse through Parts of the Body very remote, as into the Face and Bowels, it sometimes happens that a Convulsion, the Cause of which lies in a Part to which some one of those Branches resorts, may have Communication with those to which other Branches reach, without proceeding from the Brain, and without a Corruption of the Spirits.

But when the Convulsive Motions are common to most Parts of the Body, we must needs say, either that the Spirits ferment in a very extraordinary manner, or that the Order and Disposition of the Parts of the Brain is disturb'd, or that it proceeds from both Causes together. I shall not insist any longer upon this Question, because it grows so compound, and depending on so many things, when we enter into Particulars, that it cannot easily be made serviceable to a clear Explication of the Rules we have given.

There is no Science which may supply us with more Examples, to shew the Usefulness of those Rules, than Geometry, and especially Algebra, since these two Sciences make a perpetual Use of them. Geometry plainly discovers the Necessity always to begin with the most simple Things, and which include the least Number of Relations: It always examines those Relations by Measures that are clearly known; it takes off whatever is unserviceable to discover them; it divides into Parts Compound Questions, disposes those Parts, and examines them in order. In short, The only Fault to be found in this Science is, as I have observ'd elsewhere, that it affords no convenient Means to abridge Ideas, and discover'd Relations: So that though it regulates the Imagination, and makes the Mind exact; yet it increases not its Extent very much, neither does it give a Capacity to discover very compound Truths.

But Algebra, continually teaching to abridge, and in the shortest Way imaginable, Ideas and their Relations, extremely improves the Capacity of the Mind; for nothing so compound can be conce [...]v'd in the Relations of Magnitudes, but the Mind may discover it in time by the Means it affords, when we know the Way that ought to be taken.

The fifth Rule, and the following, which speak of the Method of abridging Ideas, concern only that Science, for none else has a convenient Way of abridging them; so that I shall not insist upon their Explication. Those who have a great Inclination for Mathematicks, and desire to give their Mind all the Force and Extent it is capable of, and to put themselves into a State of discovering, without a Tutor, an infinite Number of new Truths, will perceive, if they earnestly apply themselves to Algebra, that the Usefulness of that Science, as to the Enquiry after Truth, proceeds from its observing the Rules we have prescrib'd. But I must advertise, that by Algebra, I especially understand that which des Cartes and some others have made use of.

Before the Conclusion of this Book, I shall set down an Example somewhat at large, to shew the Usefulness of the whole Treatise: I shall represent by it the Advances of a Man who, in the Discussion of an important Question, endeavours to free himself from Prejudices; I shall at first make him fall into some Faults, that they may excite the Remembrance of what has been said elsewhere: But at last, his Attention leading him to the Truth enquir'd after, I induce him speaking positively, and as one who pretends to have solv'd the Question he examin'd.

CHAP. IX.

The last Instance to shew the Vsefulness of this Treatise, wherein the Cause of the Vnion of Parts in Bodies, and withall, the Rules of the Communication of Motion, are examin'd.

BOdies are united together three different Ways, by Continuity, Contiguity, and in a third manner, that has no particular Name; because it seldom happens, I shall call it by the general Term of Union.

[Page]By Continuity, or by the Causes of it, I understand somewhat or other which causes the Parts of a Body to hold so strongly together, that we must use violence to separate them; for which Reason they are look'd upon as a Whole.

By Contiguity I understand that, whatever it is, which makes me judge that two Bodies touch one another immediately, so as that there is nothing betwixt them; though I judge not that they are strictly united, because I may easily separate them.

By the third Word, Union, I understand something or other which makes two Glasses, or two Marble-Stones, whose surfaces are well rub'd and polished upon each other, to adhere together, so as that though they can easily be separated, by making them glide over one another, yet we find some resistance when we endeavour to do it in another manner.

Now these two united Glasses, or Marble-stones, cannot be said to be continuous, because they are not conceived as a Whole, since they may easily be separated some certain way. Neither is this a Contiguity, though it be something very like it, because those two pieces of Glass, or Marble, are strictly enough united, and even more than the Parts of soft and liquid Bodies, as those of Butter and Water.

These Words being thus explained, we must now enquire after the Cause that unites Bodies, and the difference betwixt Continuity, Contiguity, and the Union of Bodies, taken in this particular Sense: I shall first seek the cause of Continuity, or that, I don't know what, which unites the Parts of a Body, and links them so strictly together, that violence must be used to separate them, and that they are look'd upon as making together but one Whole. I hope that this Cause being found out, it will prove no hard task to discover the rest.

It seems now necessary to me, that this, I don't know what, which binds even the smallest Parts of that piece of Iron I hold in my Hands, should be something very powerful, since I must use a very great Force to break off a small Part of it. But am not I extremely mistaken, for may not that difficulty I find in breaking the least piece of this Iron, come from my Weakness, and not from the Resistance of the Iron? And indeed, I remember, I have formerly used a greater violence than I now do, to break a piece of Iron like this; and if I fell sick, it might happen that my utmost endeavours could not perform it. I see therefore that I must not judge absolutely of the firmness with which the Parts of Iron are joyned together, by the endeavours I make to dis-unite them, but only judge that they stick very strictly to each other in relation to my little Strength, or that they hang more firmly together than the Parts of my Flesh; since the Sense of Pain I feel in using too much Force advertises me, I shall sooner disunite the Parts of my Body, than those of the Iron.

Thence I conclude, That as I am not absolutely strong nor weak, so Iron and other Bodies are not absolutely hard or flexible; but only in reference to the Cause that acts upon them. And that my Endeavours cannot be a Rule to measure the Degrees of Force, that must be used to overcome the Resistance and Hardness of Iron; since Rules must be unvariable; whereas those Endeavours vary, according to the Time, the plenty of Animal Spirits, and the Hardness of Flesh; for, after all, I cannot always produce the same Effects by the same Endeavours.

This Consideration frees me from a Prejudice, that made me imagine strong Bands to unite the Parts of Bodies, which Bands perhaps are not in being, and I hope it will not be unprofitable hereafter: for I am wonderfully apt to judge of all things with relation to my self, and to follow the Impressions of my Senses, of which I shall more carefully beware. But let us proceed.

Having thought some Time, and search'd with some Application, the Cause of this strict Union, without being able to discover it; I find my self inclin'd by my own natural Laziness, to judge, as several others do, that it is the Form of Bodies that preserves the Union betwixt their Parts, or the Friendship and Inclination they have for such as are alike to them: And to form other judgements of like nature; nothing being more convenient than sometimes to suffer our selves to be seduc'd, and to become Learned on a sudden, with little Expence.

But I intend to believe nothing but what I know, nor to suffer my self to be cast down by my own Laziness, nor to yield to bare Glimpses. Let us therefore lay aside those Forms and Inclinations, of which we have no distinct and particular, but only confused and general Ideas, which methinks we only frame with reference to our Nature, and the Existence of which several Persons, and perhaps whole Nations, do not own. But methinks I see the Cause of this strict Union of the Parts which make up hard Bodies, without admitting any thing in it, but what all the World grants; or at least, what all the World distinctly conceives to be possible. For every one distinctly conceives, that all Bodies are composed, or may be composed of small Parts: It may then be that some shall be crooked and branched, and be able, as many little Fetters, strongly to hold others; or that they shall be so intricated amongst each others Branches, that it will not be easie to disunite them.

I am so much the apter to yield to this Thought, as I see visible Parts of the gross Bodies, hold and bind one another this way. But I can scarce sufficiently mistrust my Prejudices and Impression of my Senses. I must therefore more strictly examine this Matter, and enquire after the Reason, why even the minutest and last solid Parts of Bodies, in short, even the Parts of every one of these little Bands, hang together: For they cannot be united by other smaller Bands; since I suppose them to be solid. Or if I say they are united in that Manner, it will reasonably be ask'd, What unites these others together? and so in infinitum.

[Page]So that the Difficulty of the Question now is,

[figure]

how the Parts of those little Fetters, or of those branched Parts, can be so strictly united as they are; A, for instance, with B, which I suppose to be Parts of a little Band: Or, which is the same thing, (Bodies being so much the more hard, as they are the more solid and less porous,) the Question at present is, to know how the Parts of a Column being made of Matter without Pores, can be so strongly joined together, and compose a very hard Body; since it cannot be said that the Parts of this Column hang together by small Fetters; for being without Pores, they have no particular Figure.

I am again extremely apt to say, that this Column is hard by its Nature; or that the small Fetters, of which hard Bodies are made up, are Attoms, the Parts of which cannot be divided; as being the Essential and last Parts of Bodies, and essentially crooked, branched, or of a perplex'd Figure. But I freely own this is not solving the Difficulty, and that laying aside my Prejudices, and the Illusions of my Senses, I should be in the wrong, to have Recourse to an abstracted Form, and to embrace a Phantasm of Logick, for the Cause I enquire after. I mean, I should be in the wrong to conceive, as something real and distinct, the rambling or indefinite Idea of Nature or Essence; which expresses nothing but what is known to us; and so to take an abstracted universal Form for the Physical Cause of a real Effect: for there are Two things which I cannot too much mistrust. The first is, The Impression of my Senses; and the other, My Readiness to take abstracted Natures, and general Ideas of Logick, for real and particular, by which two Principles of Errour I remember to have been often seduc'd.

For to return to the Difficulty in hand; 'tis not possible to conceive how those little Fetters should be indivisible by their own Essence and Nature, nor consequently how they should be inflexible; since, on the contrary, I conceive them most divisible, nay, necessarily divisible by their own Essence and Nature. For the Part A is most certainly a Substance as well as B; and consequently 'tis plain that A may exist without B, since Substances may exist without one another, otherwise they would be no Substances.

It cannot be said that A is no Substance; for 'tis plain that that is not a bare Mode, whereas every Being is either a Substance, or the Mode of a Substance. And therefore since A is not a Mode, it is a Substance, and may exist without B; and much more the Part A exists separately from B; so that this Fetter is divisible into A and B.

Moreover, if this Fetter were indivisible or crooked by its own Nature and Essence, there would happen a thing quite contrary to what we see by Experience; for not one Body could be broken. Let us suppose, as before, a Piece of Iron composed of many Fetters perplexed within one another, and A a B b to be two of them; I say it will not be possible to disintangle them, and consequently to break the Iron. For to break it, the Fetters that make it up must be bent, which however are supposed inflexible by their own Nature and Essence.

If they be not supposed inflexible, but only indivisible by their own Nature, the Supposition would be unserviceable for solving the Question. For then the Difficulty will be, Why those little Fetters obey not the Force that is used to bend a Bar of Iron? Neither must they be supposed indivisible, if they be not supposed inflexible: For if the Parts of those Fetters could change their situation in reference to one another, 'tis visible that they might be separated; since there is no Reason why, if one part may be somewhat removed from the other, it could not be entirely removed. And therefore whether these little Fetters are supposed indivisible or inflexible, the Question cannot be solved by that means: for if they be only supposed indivisible, a Piece of Iron must be broken without trouble; and if they be supposed inflexible, it will be impossible to break it; since the little Fetters that make up the Iron, being intricated within one another, it will be impossible to disintangle them. Let us therefore solve the Difficulty by clear and undeniable Principles, and find the Reason why that little Band has two Parts A B so firmly united to one another.

'Tis needful, I perceive, to divide the Subject of my Meditation into Parts, that I may examine it the more exactly, and with less Intention of Thought; since I could not at first, at a single view, and with the whole Attention I am capable of, discover what I enquired after. This I might have done at the beginning; for when the Subjects of our Meditation are somewhat abstruse, 'tis always the best way to consider them by parts, and not fruitlessly weary our selves with the vain Hopes of meeting happily with the Truth.

What I enquire after is, The Cause of the strict Union betwixt the minute Parts, that make up the little Fetter A B. Now I conceive only distinctly three Things that can be the Cause sought for, viz. The very Parts of that little Fetter, or the Will of the Author of Nature, or lastly invisible Bodies surrounding such little Bands. I might yet alledge, as the Cause of these things, the Form of Bodies, the Qualities of Hardness, or some occult Quality, the Sympathy betwixt Parts of the same Species, &c. but since I have no distinct Idea of those fine things, I neither must nor can ground my Reasonings thereupon: so that if I find not the Cause I search after, in those things of which I have distinct Ideas, I will not fruitlessly trouble my self with the Contemplation of [Page] such rambling and general Notions of Logick; and shall forbear speaking of what I understand not. But let us examine the first of these things, that may be the Cause, why the Parts of that small Band are so firmly joined; viz. the very Parts of which it is made up.

When I only consider the Parts of which hard Bodies are composed, I am inclined to believe, That no M. Des Cartes his Principles, Art. 55. Part. II. Cement, which unites the Parts of that Fetter, can be imagin'd besides themselves and their own Rest: for of what Nature could it be? It cannot be a thing subsisting of it self, since all those minute Parts being Substances, for what Reason should they be united by other Substances but themselves? Neither can it be a Quality different from Rest; because there is no Quality more contrary to Motion, that may separate those Parts, but their own Rest: but besides Substances and their Qualities, we know not any other sorts of things.

'Tis true, that the Parts of hard Bodies remain united, as long as they are in Rest one by another; and that when they are once in Rest, they remain of themselves in the same state, as long as they can; but this is not what I enquire after, and I know not how too I came to mistake the Subject. I endeavour here to discover, why the Parts of hard Bodies have so great a strength, to remain in Rest one by another, that they withstand the Force that is used to move them.

Art. 43. ibid.I might however answer my self, that every Body has truly Force of continuing fix'd in its present state, and that this Force is equal whether in Motion or Rest: But that the Reason why the parts of hard Bodies remain in Rest by one another, and that we can Art. 63. difficultly move and separate them, is our not imploying sufficient Motion to overpower the Rest. This is probable, but I am seeking Certainty, if it be to be found, and not bare Probability. And how can I know with Certainty, and Evidence, that each Body has this Force to continue in the state it's in, and that this Force is equal both as to Motion and Rest, since Matter on the contrary, seems indifferently passive to either, and altogether destitute of Force. Let us have recourse then with M. des Cartes to the Will of the Creatour, which is, it may be, that Force which Bodies seem to have in themselves, which is the second thing above mention'd, suppos'd capable of preserving the Parts of this little Fetter we speak of, so closely link'd to one another.

Certainly, 'tis possible that God may will every Body should remain in its present state, and that his Will should be the Force which unites their Parts to one another, as I otherwise know his Will to be the Moving Force which puts Bodies in Motion: For since Matter is incapable of moving it self, I have Reason, methinks, to conclude it is a Spirit, and even the Author of Nature, which puts it and preserves it in Motion, by preserving it successively in different places by his bare Will; in as much as an Almighty Being acts not with Instruments, and his Will is necessarily follow'd by Effects.

Art. 33. Part. II.I acknowledge then, it's possible that God may will that every thing remain in its present state, whether it be Motion or Rest, and that his Will may be the natural Power, which Bodies have of remaining in the state they once have obtain'd. And if so, we must like M. des Cartes, measure that Power, conclude what ought to be the Effects of it, and give Rules for the Force and Communication of Motions upon the Collision of different Bodies, in proportion to their Magnitude; since we have no other way of coming to the knowledge of that general and immutable Will of God, who makes the different Power these Bodies have of acting upon, and resisting one another, consist in their different Magnitude and Swiftness.

But however, I have no infallible proof that God wills by a positive Will, that Bodies remain in Rest, and one would think it sufficient for God to will the Existence of Matter, not only to cause it to exist, but to exist in Rest.

The case is not the same with Motion, since the Idea of a Matter mov'd, certainly includes two Powers to which it is related, viz. that which created, and also that which mov'd it. But the Idea of a Matter in Rest, includes only the Idea of a Power which has created it, whilst there is no necessity of any other Power to put it in Rest, since if we barely conceive Matter, without thinking on any Power, we shall necessarily conceive it in Rest. Thus it is I conceive things: for I am to judge by my Ideas; and my Ideas tell me, Rest is but the privation of Motion. For God need but cease to will the Motion of a Body; to make its Motion cease, and to cause it to Rest.

But I remember I have heard from many very ingenious Persons, that Motion seem'd to them as much the privation of Rest, as Rest the privation of Motion. And some will not doubt to affirm, for Reasons I can't comprehend, that Motion seems rather a privation than rest. I do not distinctly call to Mind the Reasons they alledge: however this ought to make me suspicious, lest my Ideas should be false. For though most Men say what they please upon Subjects that seem of little moment, yet I have Reason to believe the Persons I speak of, were pleas'd to speak what they thought: wherefore I must still examine my Ideas more carefully.

To me it seems a thing of undoubted Certainty, and the Gentlemen before mention'd won't deny it,I imagine here only God, my self, and one Bowl. that 'tis the Will of God which moves Bodies. The Force then which that Bowl I see in Motion has, is the Will of God that moves it; what now is God requir'd to do to stop it? Must he Will, by a positive Will, that it should Rest? or is it sufficient to cease to will its Motion? 'Tis plain, that if God but cease to will the Motion of this Bowl, the cessation of its Motion, and consequently Rest will succeed the cessation of the Will of God. For the Will of God, which was the Force that moved the Bowl, desisting, that Force desists, and the Bowl will be no longer mov'd. Therefore the cessation of the moving Force produces Rest: Rest then has no Force to cause it; but is a bare privation that supposes no positive Will in God. Thus we should admit in God a positive Will without any Reason or Necessity, if we ascribed to Bodies any Force to remain in Rest.

[Page]But to overthrow this Argument if possible, Let us now suppose a Bowl at Rest, as before we suppos'd it in Motion, what must God do in order to agitate it? Is it enough that he ceases to will its repose? if so, I have hitherto made no advance; for that Motion will be equally the privation of Rest, as Rest of Motion. I suppose then that God desists to will the Rest of this Bowl; but supposing it, I see it not put in Motion; and if any others do, I desire them to inform me with what degree of Motion it is carried. Certainly 'tis impossible it should be mov'd, or have any degree of Motion: and 'tis impossible to conceive any degree of Motion in it, barely from our conceiving that God ceases to will it should be at Rest; because it goes not with Motion as it does with Rest. Motions are infinitely various, and are susceptible of more and less; but Rest being nothing, one cannot differ from another. One and the same Bowl which moves twice as fast at one time as at another, has twice as much Force, or Motion, at one time as at another. But it cannot be said that the same Bowl has Rest double at one time to its Rest at another.

There must therefore be a positive Will in God, to put a Bowl in Motion, or to give it such a Force as it may move it self with: But he need only cease to will it should be mov'd, to cause its Motion to desist; that is, to make it Rest. Just as to the creating a World, it is not enough that God cease to will its non-existence, unless he likewise positively will the manner it shall exist in. But in order to annihilate it, there is no need of God's willing it should not exist, since God cannot will Nothingness by a positive Will, but barely, that he cease to will its Being.

I consider not here Motion and Rest, according to their relative Capacity; (for 'tis manifest that resting Bodies have as real Relations to those about them, as Bodies in Motion) I only conceive that Bodies mov'd have a moving Force, and that others at Rest have no Force at all to persevere in it; because the Relations of mov'd to the circumambient Bodies, perpetually changing, they need a continual Force to produce these Changes; it being indeed nothing but these Changes, that cause all that Novelty we observe in Nature; but there is no need of Force to do nothing. When the Relation of a Body to those surrounding it is constantly the same, there is nothing done; and the Continuance of that Relation, I mean the Action of the Will of God, which preserves it, is not different from that which preserves the Body it self.

If it be true, as I conceive, That Rest is but the Privation of Motion, the least Motion, or that of the least Body mov'd, will include a greater Force or power than the Rest of the greatest Body; and so the least Force, and the least Body, suppos'd to be mov'd By a Body in a Vacuum, I understand one so separate from others, whether hard or liquid, as that there is none either to aid or hinder the Communication of Motions. in a Vacuum, against another never so great and bulky, will be capable of moving it; since the largest Body at Rest will have no power of resisting the least Body that shall strike against it. Therefore the Resistance which is made by the Parts of hard Bodies, to hinder their Separation, necessarily proceeds from something else than their Repose.

But 'tis necessary to demonstrate by sensible Experiments, what we have been proving by abstracted Reasonings, to see whether our Ideas comport with the Sensations we receive from Effects. For it often happens that such Reasonings deceive us, at least will not convince others, and especially such as are prejudiced to the contrary. M. Des Cartes's Authority has such an influence upon some Mens Reason, that unless we prove all imaginable ways, that great Man in an Errour, we cannot disabuse them. What I have said will be readily admitted by such as are not prepossess'd with a contrary Opinion; and I perceive that I shall even be blam'd by them, for proving things which seem to them indisputable: However, the Cartesians well deserve our endeavours to content them. The others may pass over this Discourse, if they think it tedious.

Here then are some Experiments which sensibly demonstrate that Rest has no power to resist Motion, and which consequently evince, that the Will of the Author of Nature, which constitutes the Power and Force every Body has to continue in its present state, respects not Rest, but Motion only; since Bodies consider'd in themselves have no Force at all.

We daily see great Ships, whilst floating in the Water, mov'd with little Bodies striking against them. From which Experience I conclude, notwithstanding all the subterfuges of Monsieur des Cartes and the Cartesians, that if these great Bodies were in a Vacuum, they might be moved with much greater facility, since the Reason of a Vessel's being mov'd in the Water with some difficulty, is the resistance the Water makes to the imparted Motion; which in a void space will not be found. Now that which manifestly shews that Water resists the Motion impressed on the Vessel, is the cessation of its Motion some time after the Impulsion, which certainly would not happen, did not the Vessel lose its Motion, by communicating it to the Water; or if the Water yielded to its passage without any opposition; or lastly, imparted to it some of its own Motion. Therefore since a Vessel agitated in the Water, ceases by degrees to move, 'tis an infallible sign that the Water, instead of forwarding, as Monsieur des Cartes pretends, withstands its Motion; and consequently it would be infinitely easier to move a great Body in a Vacuum than in Water, since there would be no resistance on the part of surrounding Bodies. 'Tis evident therefore, that Rest has no Force to resist Motion, and that the least Motion contains more Power and Force then the greatest Rest; or at least, that we ought not to measure the Force of Motion and Rest, by the Proportion we find between the Magnitude of Bodies in those two States, as Monsieur des Cartes has done.

'Tis true, there is some reason to believe that the Vessel is mov'd, whilst in the Water, by reason of the continual change which happen in the watery parts about it, though to us it seems not to change its place: And this has been an inducement to M. Des Cartes and some Persons to [Page] believe, that 'tis not the bare Force of the impelling Agent which makes it advance in Water; but that having before receiv'd a great deal of Motion from the little parts of the surrounding Liquid, which press it equally on all sides, this Motion is only determin'd by the adventitious Motion of the impelling Body; so that what moves a Body in Water, could not do it in a Vacuum. And thus it is that M. Des Cartes and his Followers defend the Rules of Motion they have given us.

Let us suppose, for Example, a Piece of Wood of a Foot square, plac'd in a liquid Body, all the little parts whereof act and move against it; and because they press it equally on all sides, as well towards A as B, the piece of Wood stirs neither one way nor another: Now if I drive another Piece of Wood of half a Foot against the former, on the side A, I see it advance forward; hence I conclude, that it might be mov'd in a Vacuum with less Force than that of the Piece that drives it, for the foregoing Reasons. But the Persons I speak of deny it, and answer, that the reason of the greater Piece's advancing, when urg'd by the little one, is, that the Art. 5. latter unable to move it singly, being joyn'd with the parts of the agitated Liquid, determines them to drive it by imparting some of their Motion to it. But 'tis manifest that by this Answer, the Piece of Wood, when once mov'd, could never diminish its Motion; but must, on the contrary, perpetually increase it. For according to this Answer, the Piece of Wood is more driven by the Water to the side of A than B, therefore it must perpetually proceed; and because this Impulsion is continual, its Motion must constantly increase. But, as I have said, the Water is so far from facilitating its Motion, that it continually resists it; which resistance still lessening it more and more, at last makes it altogether insensible.

But I am now to prove that the Piece of Wood which is equally push'd by the little parts of the encompassing Water, has no Motion or Force at all, capable of moving it, though it continually changes its immediate place; and the Surface of the Water round it is different at different times. For if it be so that a Body equally press'd on all sides, as a Piece of Wood, be destitute of Motion, undoubtedly that foreign Force that strikes against it, must communicate it, since at the time of this Force's urging it on, the Water resists, and insensibly dissipates the impress'd Motion, causing it, by little and little, at last to cease.

It is certain, at least to those I speak to, that there is no more Motion in Nature at one time than another; and that Bodies at rest cannot be put in Motion, but by the Collision of some agitated Bodies, which communicate their Motion to them. Whence I conclude, that a Body, which I suppose created perfectly at Rest in the midst of Water, will never receive any degree of Motion, from the little parts of the Water which surround it, and which strike continually against it, provided their Force be equal on all sides; because all these little parts which dash equally against it on all sides, rebounding again with their whole Motion, communicate none of it; and consequently this Body ought to be consider'd as at Rest, and without any moving Force, though it continually changes its Situation.

Now the proof I have for the rebounding of these little parts, together with their whole Motion, is this; That otherwise the Water which touches this Body, must grow very cold, or even congeal'd, and become almost as hard as the Wood upon its Surface, since the Motion of the watry parts ought to be equally diffus'd into the little parts of the Body they encompass.

But that I may accommodate my self to the Patrons of M. Des Cartes's Opinion, I am willing to grant that we ought not to consider a Vessel on the Water as at Rest. I grant likewise, that all the parts of the environing Water are [...]ubservient to the new Motion imprinted by the Waterman, though it be but too visible by the decrease of the Boat's Motion, that they resist it more on the side where it makes, than on the other whence it is driven: Notwithstanding which supposition, I say, that of all the Parts of Water in the River, according to M. Des Cartes, there are none which can promote the Motion of the Vessel, except those which immediately touch it on the side it is driven on. For Art. 63. according to that Philosopher, The Water being fluid, all the parts that go to its Composition, act not conjointly against the Body we would move; but only those which touching it, conjointly bear upon it. But those which conjointly bear upon the Vessel, and the Boat's-man together, are twenty times more inconsiderable than the Boat. 'Tis plain therefore, from the Explication given by M. Des Cartes in this Article, concerning the difficulty we find to break a Nail between our Fingers, that a little Body is capable of moving one much bigger than it self. For in short, our Hands are not so fluid as Water; and when we would break a Nail, there are more parts that act jointly in our hands, than in the Water which pushes against a Vessel.

But here's a more sensible Experiment. Take a Plank well smooth'd, or any other very hard Plain, drive in it a Nail half way, and set this Plain in a somewhat inclining posture; then place a Bar of Iron an hundred times thicker than the Nail, an Inch or two above it, and letting it slide down, it will not break it. Mean time it is observable, that, according to Des Cartes, all the parts of the Bar, as being hard and solid, act jointly upon the Nail. If therefore there were no other C [...]ment than Rest to unite the parts of the Nail, the Bar of Iron being an hundred times bigger, ought by the Fifth Rule of M. Des Cartes, and according to Reason, communicate somewhat of its Motion to the part of the Nail it fell upon; that is, to break it, and pass on, even though this Bar should slide with a very gentle Motion. Therefore we must seek some other Cause than the Rest of Bodies, that makes them hard, and capable of resisting the violence that is offer'd to break them, since Rest has no Force to withstand Motion: And I am persuaded these Experiences are sufficient to evince, that the abstracted Proofs we have given are not false.

[Page]We must then examine the third Thing we supposed before might be the cause of the strict Union found between the Parts of hard Bodies; namely, an invisible Matter which surrounds them; and which being rapidly mov'd, pushes most violently the external and internal Parts of these Bodies, and constringes them in such a manner as requires greater strength to separate them, than has that invisible and extremely agitated Matter.

Methinks I might reasonably conclude, that the Union of the constituent Parts of hard Bodies depends on an invisible Matter which surrounds and compresses them, since the two other things, supposed possible Causes of this union, have been discover'd not to be truly so. For since I meet with Resistance in breaking a Piece of Iron, which Resistance proceeds not from the Iron, nor the Will of God, as I think I have proved, it must necessarily proceed from some invisible Matter, which can be no other than that which immediately surrounds and compresses it. Nevertheless, I shall give some positive Proofs of this Opinion, after I have more largely explain'd it by some Instance.

Take a Globe of any hard Metal, which is hollow within, and divided in two Halfs, join them together with a little Bond of Wax at the place of their Union, and then extract the Air: these two half Globes will be so firmly join'd to one another, that two Teams of Horses fastned to the Rings on the opposite sides of the Globe, shall not separate them, provided they be large in proportion to the Number of Horses; when yet if the Air be suffer'd to enter, one Man shall separate them with a great deal of Ease. From this Experiment 'tis easie to conclude, that what united the two Hemispheres to one another, was the Pressure of the surrounding Air upon their outward and convex Surface, whilst there was no Compression in their concave and inward parts; so that the Action of the Horses which drew the two Hemispheres on either side, could not conquer the Resistance made by innumerable little Parts of Air, by their pressing these two Halfs: But the least Force is capable of dividing them when the Air entring in the Copper Globe, drives against the Concave and inward Surfaces, as much as the external Air presses against the outward and convex.

Take, on the contrary, the Bladder of a Carp, and put it in a Vessel from which the Air is pump'd: this Bladder being full of Air, will crack and burst, because then there is no exteriour Air to resist that within the Bladder. 'Tis likewise for the same Reason I have given of the first Experiment, that two Glass or Marble Plains, ground and polish'd upon one another, so cling together, that Violence must be us'd to separate them one way; because the two parts of the Marble are press'd and constring'd by the external Air that surrounds them, and are not so strongly press'd by that between. I might produce infinite other Experiments to prove that the gross Air which surrounds Bodies strongly unites their Parts: But what I have said is enough to give a distinct Explication of my Thoughts upon the present Question.

I say then, that what causes the Parts of hard Bodies and the little Fetters before-mentioned to hang so closely united to each other, is, there being other little Bodies infinitely more agitated than the course Air we breath, which bear against them, and compress them; and that which makes it so hard to separate them, is not their Rest, but the Agitation of these little surrounding Bodies. So that that which resists Motion is not Rest, (this being but the Privation of it, and has no Force at all,) but some contrary Motion.

This simple Exposition of my Opinion perhaps seems reasonable; yet I foresee, that many Persons will not easily be induc'd to yield to it. Hard Bodies make so great Impression on the Senses when they strike us, or when we use Violence to break them, that we are inclin'd to believe their Parts more strictly united than they really are. And on the contrary, the little Bodies which I have said encompass them, and to which I have ascribed the Force of causing this Union, making no Impression on our Senses, seem too weak to produce so sensible an Effect.

But to take away this Prejudice, which bottoms on the Impressions of our Senses, and on the Difficulty we find to imagine Bodies more little and agitated than those we daily see; 'tis to be consider'd, that the Hardness of Bodies is not to be measur'd with relation to our Hands, or the Endeavours we are able to make, which are different at different times. For indeed, if the greatest Force of Men be nothing in comparison with that of the subtle Matter, we should be much to blame to believe, that Diamonds, and the hardest Stones, cannot derive their Hardness from the Compression of those little rapid Bodies which environ them. Now we may visibly discover how inconsiderably weak is Humane Force, if it be consider'd that Man's Power of moving his Body in so many manners, proceeds from a very moderate Fermentation of the Blood, which somewhat agitates the smaller Parts of it, and so produces the Animal Spirits. For 'tis the Agitation of these Spirits, which makes the Strength of the Body, and gives us the Power of making those Endeavours which we groundlesly regard, as something great and mighty.

But it must be observ'd, that this Fermentation of our Blood, is but a small Communication of that subtle Matter's Motion we have been speaking of. For all the Fermentations of visible Bodies are nothing but Communications of Motion from the Invisible, since every Body receives its Agitation from some other. 'Tis not therefore to be wonder'd if our Force be not so great as that of the same subtle Matter we receive it from. But if our Blood fermented as much in our Heart as Gun-Powder ferments, and is agitated when Fire is put to it; that is, if our Blood receiv'd as great a Communication of Motion from the subtle Matter, as Gun-Powder receives, we might do extraordinary things with a great deal of Ease; as break a Bar of Iron, overturn an House, &c. provided we suppose a competent proportion between our Members and our Blood so violently agitated. We must therefore rid our selves of our Prejudice, and not, following the [Page] Impression of our Senses, imagine that the Parts of hard Bodies are so strongly united to one another, because of the Difficulty we find to break them.

But if moreover, we consider the Effects of Fire in Mines, the Gravity of Bodies, and several other natural Effects, which have no other Cause then the Commotion of these insensible Corpuscles, as is prov'd by M. Des Cartes in many places of his Works, we shall manifestly discover, that it does not exceed their Force, to unite and bind together the Parts of hard Bodies so powerfully as we find them. For in short, I fear not to affirm, that a Cannon-Bullet, whose Motion seems so extraordinary, receives not the thousandth part of the Motion of the subtle Matter which surrounds it.

My Assertion will not be doubted of, if it be consider'd, First, That the Gun-Powder is not all inflam'd, nor at the same instant: Secondly, That though it were all on Fire in the self-same Moment, yet it floats a very short time, in the subtle Matter; and Bodies swimming but a little while in others, can receive no great Motion from them; as may be seen in Boats when riding in a Stream, which receive their Motion by degrees. Thirdly, and principally, That each part of the Powder can receive but a collateral Motion, which the subtle Matter yields to. For Water only communicates to the Vessel the direct Motion which is common to all the parts of it, which Motion is generally very inconsiderable in respect of the others.

I might still prove to M. Des Cartes's Followers, the Greatness of the subtle Matter's Motion, by the Motion of the Earth, and the Heaviness of Bodies; from whence might be drawn very certain and exact Proofs, if that were necessary to my Subject. But in order to have one sufficient Proof of the violent Agitation of the subtle Matter, to which I ascribe the Hardness of Bodies, it suffices (without seeing Des Cartes's Works) to read attentively what I have written in the second Chapter of the fourth Book, towards the End.

Being now deliver'd from our Prejudices, which induc'd us to believe our Efforts very potent, and those of the subtle Matter which surrounds and constringes hard Bodies, very feeble; being likewise satisfied of the vehement Commotion of this Matter, by what has been said of Gun-Powder; 'twill be no hard Matter to discover, that 'tis absolutely necessary that this Matter, acting infinitely more on the Surface, than the Inside of the hard Bodies it encompasses and compresses, should be the Cause of their Hardness, or of the Resistance we feel when we endeavour to break them.

But since there are always many Parts of this invisible Matter passing through the Pores of hard Bodies, they not only render them hard, as I have before explain'd; but are also the Causes that some are springing, and elastical, that others stand bent, and others still are Fluid and liquid; and in short are the Cause not only of the Force which the Parts of hard Bodies have to remain close by one another; but of that likewise which the parts of fluid Bodies have to separate; or, which is the same thing, are the Cause of the Hardness of some Bodies, and the Fluidity of others.

But whereas 'tis absolutely necessary to know distinctly the Physicks of M. Des Cartes, the Figure of his Elements, and of the parts which constitute particular Bodies, to account for the stiffness of some and the flexibility of others, I shall not insist upon explaining it. Such as have read the Works of that Philosopher, will easily imagine what may be the cause of these things; whereas it would be a difficult task for me to explain it; and those who are unaquainted with that Author would have a very confus'd Notion of the Reasons I might offer.

Nor shall I stand to resolve a vast number of Difficulties which I foresee will be urg'd against what I have been establishing, because if those who propose them have no knowledge of true natural Philosophy, I should but tire and confound them instead of satisfying them. But if they were Men of Science, I could not answer them without a long train of diagrams and reasoning. Wherefore I think it best to intreat those who shall find any Difficulty in what I have said, to give this Discourse a more careful perusal; not doubting but if they read it and consider it as they ought, all their Objections will fall to the Ground. But after all, if they think my Request inconvenient, let them sit still, there being no great danger in the Ignorance of the Cause of the Hardness of Bodies.

I speak not here of contiguity: for 'tis manifest that contiguous things touch so little, that there's always a good quantity of subtle Matter passing between them, which endeavouring to continue its Motion in a right Line hinders them from uniting.

As to the union found between two Marbles that have been polish't one upon another, I have already explain'd it; and 'tis easie to see, that though the subtle Matter passes constantly between the two parts, as close as they are yet the Air cannot get in; and therefore 'tis that which compresses and constringes the two parts together, and makes them so difficult to be disunited, unless we glide them over one another.

For all this it is manifest that the Continuity, Contiguity and Union of two Marbles would be one and the same thing in a vacuum: for neither have we different Ideas of them, so that it would be to talk without understanding our selves to make them differ absolutely, and without any regard to the surrounding Bodies.

I now come to make some Reflexions upon M. Des Cartes's Opinion, and the Original of his Errour: I call his Opinion an Errour, because I can find no sincere way of defending what he has said upon the Rules of Motion, and the Cause of the Hardness of Bodies towards the end of the second Part of his Principles in several places; and that he seems to have evidently prov'd the Truth of the contrary Opinion.

[Page]This great Man most distinctly conceiving that Matter could not naturally move it self, but that the moving Force of all Bodies was nothing but the general Will of the Author of Nature; and that therefore the Communications of their Motion upon their mutual Collision, must come from the same Will, yielded to be carry'd away with this Notion, That the Rules of the different Communication of Motions must be fetch'd from the Proportion found between the different Magnitudes of Colliding Bodies; it being impossible to penetrate into the Designs and Will of God. And whereas he concluded that every thing had the Force to persevere in its present State, whether it were in Motion, or Rest, because God, whose Will constituted this Force, acts always in the same manner; he inferr'd that Rest had an equal Force with Motion. Thus he measur'd the Effects of the Power of Rest by the Greatness of the Body it resided in, as well as those of Motion: And hence he gave the Rules of the Communication of Motion which are seen in his Principles, and the Cause of the Hardness of Bodies, which I have endeavour'd to refute.

'Tis a hard matter not to submit to the Opinion of Monsieur des Cartes, when we contemplate it on the same side: For, once more, since the Communication of Motions proceeds only from the Will of the Author of Nature, and that we see all Bodies continue in the State they have once been put in, whether it be Motion or Rest, it seems that we ought to seek for the Rules of the different Communications of Motion upon the Concourse of Bodies; not in the Will of God, which is unknown to us; but in the Proportion that is found between the Magnitudes of these same Bodies.

I do not therefore admire that Monsieur des Cartes should light upon this Notion; but I only wonder he did not correct it, when having push'd on his Discoveries, he found out the Existence, and some Effects of the subtile Matter which surrounds all Bodies.

I am surpriz'd to find him, in the 132d Article of the Fourth Part, attribute the Elastick Force of certain Bodies to the subtile Matter, and yet not ascribe to it their Hardness, and the Resistance they make to our Endeavours to bend and break them; but only to the Rest of their Parts.Art. 55. & 43. of the second Part, and elsewhere. For I think it evident, that the Cause of the Elasticity and Stiffness of some Bodies, is the same with that which impowers them to resist the Violence that is us'd to break them: For indeed, the Force which is employ'd in breaking a piece of Steel, has but an insensible Difference from that which is us'd to bend it.

I mean not to multiply Reasons here, which one might give for the proving these things; nor to answer some Difficulties possible to be urg'd about Bodies which are not sensibly springing, and yet are difficultly bent: For all these Difficulties vanish, if we consider that the subtile Matter cannot easily make new Tracks in Bodies which break in bending, as in Glass and temper'd Steel; which it can easier do in such Bodies as are compos'd of branchy Parts, and that are not brittle, as in Gold and Lead: And Lastly, that there is no hard Body; but has some kind of Elaterium.

'Tis a hard matter to persuade one's self that Monsieur des Cartes did positively believe the Cause of Hardness to be different from that which makes the Elasticity; and what looks most likely, is, that he made not sufficient Reflexion on that matter. When a Man has for a long time meditated on any Subject, and is well satisfied about that of his present Enquiry, he commonly thinks no farther on it; he believes that the Conceptions he had of it are undeniable Truths, and that it is needless to examine them any more. But a Man has so many Things in him which disrelish his Application, provoke him to precipitate Judgments, and subject him to Errour, that though his Mind remains apparently satisfied, yet it is not always well instructed in the Truth. Monsieur des Cartes was a Man, like us: No greater Solidity, Accuracy, Extent, and Penetration of Thought is any where to be met with, than in his Works, I confess; but yet he was not infallible: Therefore 'tis very probable he remain'd so settl'd in his Opinion, from his not sufficiently reflecting that he asserted something in the Consequence of his Principles, contrary to it. He grounded it on very specious and probable Reasons; but such notwithstanding, as being not capable of themselves to force his Consent, he might still have suspended his Judgment; and consequently, as a Philosopher, he ought to have done it. It was not enough to examine in a hard Body, what was in it that might make it so; but he ought likewise to have thought on the invisible Bodies, which might give it Hardness; as he did at the End of his Philosophical Principles, when he ascrib'd to them the Cause of their Elasticity: He ought to have made an exact Division, and comprehensive of whatever might contribute to the Hardness of Bodies. It was not enough to have sought the Causes of it in the Will of God; he ought also to have thought on the subtile Matter, which surrounds these Bodies: For though the Existence of that violently agitated Matter was not yet proved in the place of his Principles where he speaks of Hardness; it was not however rejected; he ought therefore to have suspended his Judgment, and have well remember'd that what he had written concerning the Cause of Hardness, and of the Rules of Motion, was fit to be revis'd; which I believe was neglected by him; or at least, he has not sufficiently consider'd the true Reason of a thing very easie to be discover'd, and which yet is of greatest Consequence in Natural Philosophy. I thus explain my self:

Monsieur des Cartes well knew that to the Support of his System, (the Truth of which he could not reasonably suspect,) it was absolutely necessary that great Bodies should always communicate some of their Motion to the lesser which they met with; and that the latter should rebound at the Encounter of the former, without the like Loss of their own: For otherwise, the first Element would not have all the Motion that is necessary above the second, nor the second above the third; and so all his System would be absolutely false, as is manifest to those who have a little consider'd it. But in supposing that Rest has Force to resist Motion, and that a great Body in Rest cannot be mov'd by another less than it self, though most violently striking against it, 'tis plain that great [Page] Bodies must have much less Motion than an equal Mass of little ones, since they may always by that Supposition communicate their own Motion, but cannot always receive any from the lesser. Thus this Supposition being not contrary to all that Monsieur des Cartes had laid down in his Principles, from the beginning, to the Establishment of his Rules of Motion, and according very well with the Consequence of these same Principles, he thought the Rules of Motion, which he believ'd he had demonstrated in their Cause, were sufficiently confirm'd by their Effects.

I agree with Monsieur des Cartes in the Bottom of the Thing, that great Bodies communicate their Motion much easier than the lesser; and that therefore his first Element is more agitated than the second, and the second than the third; but the Cause is manifest without recourse to his Supposition. Little and fluid Bodies, as Water, Air, &c. can but communicate to any great ones an uniform Motion, which is common to all their Parts. The Water of a River can only communicate to a Boat a descending Motion, which is common to all the little Parts the Water is composed of; each of which Particles, besides its common Motion, has infinite others, which are particular. Which Reason makes it evident that a Boat, for instance, cannot have so much Motion as an equal Volume of Water, since the Boat can only receive from the Water a direct Motion, and common to all the Parts of it. If twenty Parts of a fluid Body drive against any other Body on one side whilst there are as many urging it on the other, it remains immoveable; and all the Particles of the surrounding Fluid it swims in, rebound without losing any thing of their Motion. Therefore gross Bodies, whose Parts are united one to the other, can receive only a circular and uniform Motion from the Vortex of the encompassing subtile Matter.

This Reason seems sufficient to give us to understand why gross Bodies are not so much agitated as little ones; and that it is not necessary to the explaining these things, to suppose any Force in Rest to resist Motion. The Certainty of Monsieur des Cartes's Philosophical Principles cannot therefore be of Use in proving or defending his Rules of Motion. And we have Reason to believe that if Monsieur des Cartes himself had, without Prepossession, examin'd his Principles afresh, at the same time weighing such Reasons as I have alledg'd, he would not have believ'd the Effects of Nature had corroborated his Rules; nor have fallen into a Contradiction, in attributing the Hardness of hard Bodies only to the Rest of their Parts, and their Elasticity to the Effort of the subtile Matter.

I now come to give the Rules of the Communication of Motion in a Vacuum, which follow upon what I have before establish'd concerning the Nature of Rest. Bodies being not hard in a Vacuum, since they are only so by the pressure of the subtile Matter that surrounds them, if two Bodies meet together, they would flatten without rebounding: We must therefore suppose them hard by their own Nature, and not by the pressure of the subtile Matter, to give these Rules.

Rest having no Force to resist Motion, and many Bodies being to be consider'd but as one at the Instant of their Collision, 'tis plain they ought not to rebound, save when they are equal in their Bulk and Swiftness, or that their Swiftness compensates for the Want of Bulk, or their Bulk the Want of Swiftness. And 'tis easie from hence to conclude, that they ought in all other Cases so to communicate their Motion, as afterwards to proceed along together, with an equal Pace.

General Rules of the Commuication of Motions. Wherefore, to know what ought to happen in all the different Suppositions of the Magnitude and Celerity of Colliding Bodies, we need only add together all the Degrees of Motion of two or more, which ought to be consider'd but as one in the Moment of their Concourse, and afterwards divide the Summ of the whole Motion proportionably to the Bulk of each respective Body.

Hence I conclude, that of the See M. des Cartes's Rules in the second Part of his Principles. seven Rules of Motion, Monsieur des Cartes has given, the three first are good.

That the Fourth is false, and that B ought to communicate its Motion to C, in proportion to the bigness of the same C, and after go along in Company; so as if C be double to B, and B have three Degrees of Motion, it must give away two of them: For I have sufficiently prov'd, that Monsieur des Cartes ought not to have suppos'd in Rest, a Force to resist Motion.

That the Fifth is true.

That the Sixth is false, and that B ought to communicate half of its Motion to C.

And that the Seventh is false, and that B ought ever to communicate its Motion to C, in proportion to the Magnitude and Motion of both B and C. But that if, according to the Supposition, C be double to B, and have three Degrees of Motion, whilst C has but two, they must proceed together in Company, C and B being but one Body at the time of their Collision; and therefore we must add together the Degrees of Swiftness, which are five, and afterwards divide them in proportion to their bigness, and so distribute 1 3/2 to B, and 3 ⅓ to C, which is double to B. But these Rules, though certain, from what I have said, are yet contrary to Experience, since we are not in a Vacuum.

The chief of those Experiences, which are contrary to what I have said about the Rules of Motion, is, the constant rebounding of hard Bodies, when they meet, one one way, and another another; or at least, their not going in Company after their Encounter.

In Answer to which, we must call to mind what we have formerly said of the Cause of Elasticity; namely, That there is a Matter, of a strangely-violent Motion, which continually passes into the Parts of hard Bodies, and makes them so by its compressing both their outward and inward Parts: For it will be easie from hence to see, that at the time of Percussion two encountring Bodies drive and turn off the Current of this Matter from the places nearest to the stricken; which Matter resisting with great Violence, repells the two Bodies, which strike against each other, and restores its Passage, which the Percussion had stopp'd up.

[Page]That which more clearly still proves my Opinion is this, That if two Bowls of Lead, or of any other less Elastick Matter, meet, they rebound not after their Collision, but proceed almost according to the Rules before establish'd, which they keep to so much more exactly as they are less springing. Bodies therefore rebound after their Percussion, because they are hard; that is, as I have explain'd, because there is an extremely agitated Matter, which compresses them, and which passing through their Pores with an extreme Violence, repel the Bodies which strike against them. But it ought to be suppos'd that the Percutient Bodies break not those which they dash against by a Motion over-powering the Resistance the little Parts of the subtile Matter are capable of making; as when we discharge a Musket against a piece of Wood.

'Tis true, the subtile Matter compresses soft Bodies, and passes with a rapid Course through their Pores, no less than through those of hard; and yet these soft Bodies have no Elasticity: The Reason whereof is this; that the Matter passing through soft Bodies, can with a great deal of Ease open it self new Passages, by reason of the Minuteness of the Parts composing them, or of some other particular Configuration, proper for that Effect; which hard Bodies will not admit, by reason of the Largeness and Situation of their Parts, which are contrary to the same.

Thus when a hard Body strikes another that is soft, it alters all the Roads the subtile Matter us'd to pass through, which is commonly visible; as in a Musket-Bullet, which flattens when it is smitten. But when a hard Body strikes against another like it, it either makes none, or very few new Paths; and the subtile Matter in its Pores is oblig'd to return upon the same Ground, or else must repel the Body which blocks up its little Avenues.

Let A be a hard Body, B a soft one, C the Chanel

[figure]

of the subtile Matter; I say, that if A strike B in the Point c, the Chanel Cc is shut up, and the subtile Matter finds out new Ways in the soft Body; and so having an open Road, it repels not the striking Body, but the Body stricken changes its Figure, and batters it self a little: And it must be suppos'd, that in the least Body there are infinite Passages like Cc. But if the Bodies A and a are both of them hard, the Passage Cc is straiten'd; and the subtile Matter included in it continuing its Motion in a Right Line, for want of new Paths, repels the Body striking it so much more violently as it finds greater Difficulty in making a new Way; or else the Parts of the Body A break, and separate from one another, and are reduc'd to Dust, or Pieces.

Lastly, It seems evident, that every mov'd Body, continually endeavouring to tend in a Right Line, and declining from it as little as is possible when it meets Resistance, ought never to rebound, since by that Motion it extremely deviates from a Right. 'Tis necessary therefore, either that Bodies should grow flat, or that the stronger should conquer the weaker, and make it bear it company: But because Bodies are springing, and hard, they cannot go in company, since if A pushes a, a repels A; and so they must recede from one another.

Notwithstanding, if two Bodies were in a Vacuum, though never so hard, they would go in company, because having no Body to surround them, they could have no Elastick Force, the Striker making no Resistance to the Striking; but Air, Gravitation, &c. resisting the great Motion which the striking Body gives the stricken, the stricken resists the striking, and hinders it from following: For Experience teaches us, that Air and Gravity resist Motion; and that this Resistance is so much greater, as the Motion is more violent. 'Tis easie to discover from what I have been saying, how it comes to pass, that in the Percussion of different Bodies, encompass'd with Air or Water, &c. sometimes the Smiting rebounds, sometimes communicates all its Motion, and remains as it were unmoveable; and sometimes it follows the Smitten, but always with less Degrees of Swiftness, if one or other of them be not perfectly soft: For all this depends on the Proportion that is found between the Magnitude, the Hardness, and the Weight of one and the other, supposing them mov'd with an equal Swiftness: If they are very hard, the Smiting rebounds more, because the Elaterium is stronger. If the Smiting is very little, the Smitten very large and weighty, the Smiting rebounds still much, because of the Weight and the great Mass of Air surrounding the Smitten, which withstands the Motion. Last of all, If the Force of the Hardness is, as it were, abated by the little Volume of Air answering the Littleness of the stricken Body, or the contrary; it may happen that the Smiting may remain as immoveable after the Percussion. We need therefore but compare the Hardness of percutient Bodies, and the Air, which the Percuss'd ought to agitate anew at the time of Percussion, whereby to move, to give a pretty exact Conjecture concerning what must happen in the Percussion of different Bodies. I still suppose an equal Swiftness in the striking, for the Air more resists a great Motion than a little one; and there is as much Motion in a Body twice as little, as in another, when proceeding twice as fast as that other. Thus the Smitten being driven as fast again, may be consider'd as having a Volume of Air twice as big, to repel, in order to its moving.

But it ought still to be observ'd, that at the Moment of one Body's striking another, the Parts of this same Body have two contrary Motions; for those on the Fore-side have a backward Tendency, [Page] by reason of the Collision, when at the same time those behind tend forwards on the Account of the first Motion; and 'tis that Counter-motion which flattens soft Bodies, and is the Cause that some hard Bodies break in pieces; but when Bodies are very hard, this Counter-stroke, which vibrates some of the Parts, and makes a sort of Trepidation in them, as appears from the Sound they give, always produces some Changes in the Communication of Motion, which are very difficult to be known, for many Reasons; and 'tis, in my Mind, to little purpose to examine them in particular.

Would a Man meditate on all these things, I believe he would easily answer some Difficulties which might still be rais'd upon the Subject; but if I thought that what I have said were insufficient to shew that Rest has no Force to resist Motion, and that the Rules of the Communication of Motions, given by Monsieur des Cartes are in part false, I would here make out that it is impossible by his Supposition to move our selves in the Air: And that which makes the Circulation of Motion in Fluid Bodies possible, without recurring to a Vacuum, is, that the first Element easily divides it self in several different manners, the Repose of its Parts having no Force to resist Motion.

The CONCLUSION of the Three last BOOKS.

I Have, if I mistake not, sufficiently shewn in the Fourth and Fifth Books, that Men's natural Inclinations and Passions frequently occasion their falling into Errour; because they induce them more to a precipitate Judgment, than a careful Examination of Things.

I have shewn in the Fourth Book, that our Inclination for Good in general, is the Cause of the Restlesness of the Will; that this Restlesness of the Will puts the Mind in continual Agitation; and that a Mind continually agitated, is utterly unfit for the Discovery of any the least intricate and hidden Truths: That the Love of new and extraordinary Things frequently prepossesses us in their behalf; and that whatever bears the Character of Infinite, is capable of confounding our Imagination, and mis-leading us. I have explain'd how our Inclination for Greatness, Elevation and Independency insensibly engage us in a falsly-pretended Learning, or in the Study of all vain and useless Sciences, which flatter the secret Pride of our Heart; because this is what recommends us to the Admiration of the Vulgar. I have shewn, that the Inclination for Pleasures constantly throws off the View of the Mind from the Consideration of abstracted Truths, which are the most simple and exuberant; and permits it not to consider any thing, with a competent Attention and Impartiality, to judge well of it: That Pleasures being the Modes of our Souls Existence, they necessarily divide the Capacity of the Mind; and that a Mind thus divided, cannot fully comprehend a Subject of any great Extent. Last of all, I have made appear, that the Relation and Natural Union we have to all those with whom we live and converse, is the Occasion of many Errours we fall into, and of our communicating them to others, as others communicate to us the same they were engag'd in.

In the Fifth, where I have endeavour'd to give some Idea of our Passions, I have, I think, made it sufficiently evident, that they were ordain'd to unite us to all things sensible; and to give us, as we are among them, a due and necessary Disposition for their Preservation and our own: That as our Senses unite us to our Body, and expand our Soul into all the composing Parts of it; so our Commotions carry us, as it were, out of our selves, and diffuse us upon all things round about us: That, Lastly, they incessantly represent things, not as they are in themselves, whereby we may form true Judgments; but according to the Relation they have to us, whereby to form Judgments useful to the Preservation of our Being, and of those to whom we are either naturally or voluntarily united.

After having attempted the Discovery of Errours in their Causes, and the Deliverance of the Mind from the Prejudices it is subject to, I thought it was time at last to prepare it for the Search of Truth. Wherefore, in the Sixth Book, I have explain'd the Means which I thought most natural for the increasing the Attention, and enlarging the Capacity of the Mind, by shewing the Use that might be made of its Senses, its Passions, and Imagination, to the giving it all the Force and Penetration it is capable of. After which, I have establish'd certain Rules, which must of necessity be observ'd for the Discovery of any Truth whatever: I have explain'd them by many Examples, that I might make them more sensible; and have chosen those which I thought most useful, or that included more fecund and general Truths; that they might be read with greater Application, and be made more sensible and familiar.

Possibly it may be acknowledg'd, by this Essay of Method which I have given, how necessary it is to reason only about clear and evident Ideas, and in which we are inwardly convinc'd that all Nations do agree; and never to proceed to Compound Things, till having sufficiently examin'd the Simple, whereon they depend.

And if it be consider'd that Aristotle and his Followers have not observ'd the Rules I have explain'd, as we ought to be assur'd by the Reasons I have alledg'd, and by the Correspondence that may be had with the most zealous Defenders of that Philosopher, it may be we shall despise his Doctrine, in spight of all the Impressions which persuade such as give way to be amuz'd by Words they do not understand.

[Page]But if we take notice of the manner of Monsieur des Cartes's Philosophizing, we cannot doubt of the Solidity of his Philosophy: For I have sufficiently shewn that he reasons but upon distinct and evident Ideas; beginning with most Simple Things, and afterwards passing on to the more Compound, which depend on them. Those who shall read the Works of that Learned Man, will have plenary Conviction of what I say of him, provided they read them with all the Application that is necessary to understand them: And they will feel a secret Joy, for being born in an Age and Country so fortunate, as to free them from the Trouble of seeking a Master to teach them Truth, among the past Ages of the Heathens; and in the Extremities of the Earth, among Barbarians and Strangers.

But as we ought not to be very sollicitous to know the Opinions of Men, even though we were otherwise assur'd they had found out Truth; so I should be very sorry if the Esteem I manifest for Monsieur des Cartes should prepossess any Man in his behalf, and make him sit down satisfy'd with reading and retaining his Opinions, without caring to be enlighten'd with the Light of Truth. This would be preferring Man before GOD, and consulting him in God's stead; and acquiescing in the obscure Answers of a Philosopher, which do not enlighten us, to avoid the Trouble of Interrogating by our Meditation Him who answers and enlightens us both together.

'Tis a mean and unworthy thing to become the Partizan of any Sect, and to look upon the Authors of it as infallible. And thus Monsieur des Cartes, chusing rather to make Men Disciples of Truth, than Opinionated Followers of his Sentiments, expressly forewarns them, Not to take any thing he writes upon Trust, and to embrace nothing but what the Force and Evidence of Reason should constrain them to believe. He desires not, like some Philosophers, to be credited upon his Word: He ever remembers that he is a Man; and that disseminating his Light but by Reflexion, he ought to direct the Minds of those who would be illuminated by him, towards Him alone who can make them more perfect by the Gift of Understanding.

The principal Advantage that can be made of Application to Study, is, the rendring the Mind more accurate, more illuminated, more penetrating, and fit for the Discovery of all the Truths we desire to know. But such as read the Philosophers, with Design of remembring their Opinions, and factoring them to others, approach not Him who is the Life and Nourishment of the Soul: Their Mind grows blind and enervate, by their Commerce with such as can neither strengthen nor enlighten them: They are swell'd up with a spurious sort of Learning, the Weight whereof overwhelms, and the Glittering blinds them; and fancying to themselves they are hugely learn [...]d when their Heads are cramm'd with the Opinions of the Antients, they forget that they become their Disciples who, St. Paul says, became Fools by usurping the Name of Wise. Dicentes se esse Sapientes, stulti facti sunt.

The Method I have given will, if I mistake not, be highly advantageous to those who desire to make use of their Reason, or to receive of God the Answers he gives all those who can faithfully consult Him: For I think I have said what is chiefly requir'd to corroborate and conduct the Attention of the Mind; which is, the natural Prayer we make to the true Master of all Men, in order to be instructed.

But because this Natural Way of Searching out Truth is very painful, and commonly impracticable, except in the Resolution of Questions of little Use, the Knowledge whereof commonly more gratifies our Pride, than perfects our Understanding; I think it my Duty to say, (that I may profitably conclude this Work,) that the most expeditious and certain Method of discovering Truth, and uniting our selves to God in the purest and perfectest manner possible, is, to live as becomes true Christians; to follow exactly the Precepts of Eternal Truth, which unites it self with us, only to re-unite us with it: 'Tis to listen rather to the Dictates of our Faith, than Reason; and to tend to God, not so much by our natural Forces, which, since the Sin, are altogether languid and inactive; as by the Assistance of Faith, by which alone God purposes to lead us into that immense Light of Truth which will dissolve and dissipate all our Darkness: For, in brief, 'tis much better, as good Men, to spend some Years in Ignorance of certain Things, and find our selves enlighten'd in a Moment, for ever; than by Natural Means, and abundance of Trouble and Application, purchase a very imperfect Science, that shall leave us in Darkness to all Eternity.

ILLUSTRATIONS UPON THE FOREGOING BOOKS.

[Page]

The PREFACE:

Wherein is shewn what should be our Opinion of the several Judgments commonly pass'd on Books, that encounter Prejudices.

WHen a BOOK is first to appear in the World, one knows not whom to consult to learn its Destiny: The Stars preside not over its Nativity, their Influences have no Operation on it; and the most confident Astrologers dare not foretell the diverse Risks of Fortune it must run: Truth not being of this World, Celestial Bodies have no power over her; and whereas she is of a most spiritual Nature, the several Positions or Combinations of Matter can contribute nothing either to her Establishment or Ruine. Besides, the Judgments of Men are so different in respect of the same things, that we can never more hazardously and imprudently play the Prophet, than in presaging the happy or unfortunate Success of a BOOK. So that every Man who ventures to be an Author, at the same time throws himself at the Reader's Mercy, to make him or esteem him what he pleases: But of all Authors, those who encounter Prejudices ought most infallibly to reckon upon their Condemnation; their Works [...]it too uneasie on most Mens Minds, and if they escape the Passions of their Enemies, they are obliged to the almighty Force of Truth for their Protection.

'Tis a common Miscarriage with all Mankind, to be too precipitate in judging; for all Men are obnoxious to Errour, and only obnoxious upon this account: But all hasty and rash Judgments are ever consonant to Prejudices; and therefore Authors who oppugn them, cannot possibly escape Sentence from all their Judges, who appeal to Ancient Opinions, as the Laws whereby they ought to pronounce. For indeed most Readers are both Judge and Party, in respect of these Authors. Their Judges they are, that Quality is incontestable; but they are a Party likewise, being disturb'd by these Authors in the possession of their ancient Prejudices, for which they have the plea of Prescription, and to which they have been accustom'd many Years.

I confess there's Abundance of Equity, Sincerity, and good Sense in a great many Readers; and that they sometimes are Judges rational enough to supersede common Opinions, as not being the infallible Rules of Truth. Many there are who retire into themselves, and consult that Inward Truth, which ought to be their Rule to judge of all things; but very Few that consult it upon all Occasions, and None at all who do it with all that Faithfulness and Attention, that is necessary to judge infallibly at all times. And thus, though we might suppose there were nothing blameable in a Treatise, which yet it would be Vanity to pretend to, I am persuaded it would be impossible to find one single Man to approve it in every respect; especially if his Prejudices were attacked by it; since it is not naturally possible, that a Judge constantly provok'd, affronted and outrag'd by a Party, should do him entire Justice; or that he should give himself the trouble of a strenuous Application to those Reasons, which at first sight appear to him as extravagant Parodoxes, or ridiculous Parol [...]gisms.

But though a Man be pleased with many things in a BOOK, if he fortunes to meet with some that are offensive, he shall seldom be wanting to speak ill of it, but most commonly forgetfull to give it any good Character. Self-love has a thousand Motives to induce us to condemn what we dislike; and Reason in this Instance fully justifies these Motives: since Men fansie they condemn Errours, and defend Truth, when they defend their Prejudices, and censure those that assault them. So that the most equitable Judges of Books that fight against Prejudices, pass commonly such a general Sentense as is no way favourable on their behalf. Perhaps they will say, there is something good in such a Work, and that the Author justly opposes certain Prejudices; but yet they shall be sure to condemn him; and as his Judges give an authoritative and grave decision upon the point, maintaining that he carries things too far on such or such an occasion. For when an Author is ruining Prejudices which the Reader is not prepossess'd with, whatever he shall say will seem reasonable enough: But the same Author ever stretches things too far, when he engages the Prejudices wherewith the Reader is too deeply ting'd.

But whereas the Prejudices of different Persons are not constantly the same, should one carefully gather the several Judgments that are made upon the same things, it would commonly appear, that according to these Judgments there is nothing Good; and at the same time nothing Bad, in such kind of Books: There would be nothing good, because there is no Prejudices, but one or other espouses; and there would be nothing bad, because there is no Prejudice whatever but some or other condemn. In which Judgments there is so much Equity, that should a Man pretend to make use of them to correct his Piece; he must necessarily strike it all out for fear of leaving any thing that was Condemn'd, or not to touch it for fear of expunging something that was approv'd. So that a poor Author that studies to be inoffensive, finds himself perplex'd on all hands, by all the various Judgments which [Page] are pronounc'd both for and against him; and unless he resolve to stand his ground, and to be reckon'd obstinate in his Opinions; he must inevitably contradict himself at every turn, and appear in as many different Forms as there are different Heads in a whole Nation.

However, Time will do every Man Justice, and Truth which at first seems a Chimerical and ridiculous Phantasm, by degrees grows sensible and manifest: Men open their Eyes and contemplate her, they discover her Charms, and fall in love with her. This Man who condemns an Author for an Opinion that he dislikes, by chance meets with another that approves it, but condemns other Opinions which the former receives as undeniable; each of them talk suitably to his Notion, and each of them contradicts the other. Hence they come to examine both their own and others Reasons afresh; they dispute, and consider, and hesitate, and are not so ready to determine upon what they have not examin'd; and if they are brought to change their Opinion, and to acknowledge that an Author is more reasonable than was believ'd; there rises a secret inclination in their Breast, which prompts them to speak as well of him for the future as they have formerly spoken to his dishonour. Thus the Man who sticks resolutely to the Truth, though at first he move their Spleen or Laughter, need not despair one day to see Truth, which he defends, triumph over the Prepossession of Men. For there's that difference between Good and Ill Books, between those which enlighten the Mind, and those which gratifie the Senses and Imagination, that the latter look charming and delightful at first, but they fade and wither in time; whilst the former, on the contrary, have something of a strange and discouraging nature, which troubles and sets the Mind agast; but in time they are relish'd, and so much the better as they are more read and digested, for 'tis Time generally that regulates the Price of Things.

The Books that encounter Prejudices leading to Truths through unbeaten Roads, require much longer time than others, to obtain the Reputation their Authors expect from them. For because Men are frequently baulk'd in the hopes that such sort of Performances had rais'd in them; but Few there are that read them; Fewer still that approve them; almost All condemn them, whether they read them or read them not: and though we be well assur'd that the trite and common Roads lead not where we design to go, yet the fear of venturing upon such as have no Footsteps of former Travellers, disheartens us from entring on them. So that Men cast not so much as their Eye about them to conduct themselves, but blindly tread in the steps of their Predecessors: Company is diverting and encouraging; they think not what they are doing, they perceive not where they go, and often forget the place where they design to arrive.

Men are made for a sociable Life, which to preserve, it is not enough to use the same Tongue; we must moreover keep to the same way of Expression, and the same road of Thinking, as other Men. We must live by Opinion, as we act by Imitation. We then consult advantageously, agreeably, and surely for the Good of the Body, and the Establishment of our Fortune, when we submit to the Opinions of others, and give way to be persuaded by the Air, or sensible Impression of the Imagination of those we hear speak. But we undergo much Pains, and run the extreme hazard of our Fortune, when we will only hearken to internal Truth, and reject with Scorn and Abhorrence all the Prejudices of the Senses, and all the Opinions we have receiv'd without Examination.

Thus all those Writers who combat with Prejudices, are much mistaken if they think by that means to recommend themselves to the Favour and Esteem of others: Possibly if they have succeeded in their Studies, some few of the Learned will speak honourably of their Works when they are dead; but while they live, they must expect to be neglected by most People, and to be despis'd, revil'd, and persecuted, even by those that go for the wisest and most moderate sort of Men.

And indeed there are so many Reasons, and those so strong and convincing, which oblige us to do the same as those we live with, that we have commonly right to condemn, as Men of fantastical and capricious Spirits, such as act contrary to others. And because Men do not sufficiently distinguish between Acting and Thinking, they commonly are highly offended that any one should fall upon their Prejudices. They suppose it not sufficient to the preservation of the Rules of Civil Society, externally to comport with the receiv'd Opinions and Customs of our Country. They pretend it is Rashness to examine common Sentiments, and a breach of Charity to enquire after Truth; because Truth is not so much the Bond of Civil Societies, as Customs and Opinion.

Aristotle is receiv'd in the Universities as the Rule of Truth: he is cited as infallible; and 'tis a Philosophical Heresie to deny what he maintains: in a word, he is reverenc'd as the Genius of Nature: and after all, Those that are best acquainted with his Physicks, cannot account for, nor perhaps are convinc'd of any thing: and the Scholars, when they have finish'd their Course of Philosophy, dare not declare before Men of Sense, what they have learn'd of their Masters. Which, it may be, is enough with Men of Reflexion, to teach them what to think of such sort of Studies: for that Erudition which a Man must unlearn to become Reasonable, cannot seem very solid. Yet a Man would be thought rash, and presumptuous, who would attempt to shew the Falsity of the Reasons that Authorize so strange and unacountable a Conduct: and he would necessarily make himself work with those, who reap advantage by it, though he were of competent Ability to disabuse the Publick.

Is it not evident, that we must make use of things that are known, to learn what is not known? and that it would be imposing on a French-man, to give him a Grammar in German Verse to teach him the German Tongue? and yet we put into the hands of Children Despauterius's Latin Verses, to teach them Latin: Verses intricate on all accounts; to Children that with difficulty comprehend things that are most easie. Reason and also Experience are visibly against this Custom: for they spend a great deal of time to learn Latin but by halves; yet it would be temerity to find fault with [Page] it. A Chinese who knew this Custom, could not help laughing at it; whilst in this part of the World, which we inhabit, the wisest and most learn'd cannot forbear approving it.

If Prejudices thus false and palpable, and Customs so irrational, and of so great Consequence, find so many Patrons and Defenders; how shall they submit to Reasons that oppose the Prejudices of a purely Speculative Nature? There needs but a very little Attention to discover that the way taken to instruct Children is not the best; and yet it is not acknowledg'd Opinion and Custom carry it against Reason and Experience. How then can we imagine that the Books which destroy an infinite number of Prejudices, will not in many things be condemn'd by those who pass for the most learn'd and wisest Part of Men?

It must be observ'd that those who go for the most understanding and ingenious in the World, are Men that have read most Books, both good and bad: Men of a most happy Memory, and of a most lively and comprehensive Imagination. Now this sort of Persons, commonly judge readily on all things, without Examination. They consult their Memory, and therein immediately find the Law, or Prejudice by which they pronounce, without much reflexion. As they think their Parts better than other Men's, they afford little Attention to what they read: Hence it comes, that Women and Children easily discover the Falsity of some Prejudices which they see attack'd, because they dare not judge without examining; and that they bring all the Attention they are capable of, to what they read: whilst Scholars, on the contrary, stick resolutely to their Opinions, because they will not be at the Trouble of examining those of others, when quite contrary to their preconceiv'd Notions.

As to the Attendants on the Great Men of the World, they have so many external Adherencies, that they cannot easily retire into themselves; nor bring a competent attention to distinguish Truth from Probability. Nevertheless they are not extremely addicted to any kinds of Prejudices: For strongly to prosecute a Wordly interest, neither Truth nor Probability must be rely'd on. As a seeming Humility, or Civility, and external shew of Temper, are Qualities which all Men admire, and are absolutely necessary to keep up Society amongst Proud and ambitious Spirits: Men of Worldly Designs, make their Vertue and Desert to consist in asserting nothing, and believing nothing, as certain and indisputable. It has ever been, and will ever be the Fashion, to look upon all things as Problematical, and with a Gentleman-like Freedom to Treat the most holy Truths, lest they should seem bigotted to any thing. For whereas the Gentlemen I mention, are neither applicative nor attentive to any thing but their Fortune; there can be no Disposition more Advantageous, or that seems more reasonable to them, than that which the Fashion justifies. Thus the Invaders of Prejudices, whilst they flatter on one hand, the Pride and Remisness of these Worldly Men, are well accepted by them; but if they pretend to assert any thing as Undeniable, and to manifest the Truth of Religion and Christian Morality, they are look'd upon as Opinionated, and as Men who avoid one Precipice to run upon another.

What I have said, is, methinks, sufficient to conclude, what should be answer'd to the different Judgments divers Persons have pronouc'd against The Treatise concerning the Search after Truth; and I shall make no Application, which every Man may do himself to good purpose without any trouble. I know indeed that every Man do will not do it; but perhaps I might seem to be the Judge in my own Case, if I should defend my self as far as I was able. I therefore resign up my Right to the Attentive Readers, who are the natural Judges of Books, and I conjure them to call to Mind, the request I made in the Preface of the foregoing Treatise, and elsewhere, Not to judge of my Opinions but by the clear and distinct Answers they shall receive from the only Teacher of all M [...]n, after having consulted him by a serious attention. For if they consult their Prejudices, as the decisive Laws to judge of the Book, Concerning the search after Truth; I acknowledge it to be a very ill Book, since purposely wri [...]ten to detect the Falsity and Injustice of these Laws.

ADVERTISEMENT.

WHereas the following Illustrations were compos'd to satisfie some particular Persons, who desir'd a more special Explication of some important Truths; I think fit to premise, that cleary to apprehend what I shall say, it will be requisite to have some Knowledge of the Principles I have offer'd in the Treatise concerning the Search after Truth. Therefore it will be the best way not to meddle with these Observations, till after having carefully read the whole Work for which they were made; and only to examine them at a second reading, as they shall be found referr'd to by the Margin. This Caution however is not absolutely necessary to be observ'd by understanding Persons, because I have endeavoured so to write these Elucidations, as that they might be read without referring to the Book they were compos'd for; I know that Truth is of all things in the World that which gives least trouble to acquire it. Men use not willingly to collate those Passages in a Book, which have Reference to one another; but commonly read things as they fall in their way, and understand of them as much as they can: wherefore to accommodate my self to this Temper of Men, I have tried to make these Remarks intelligible, even to those who have forgotten the Places of the foregoing Treatise, whereunto they refer. Nevertheless I desire those who will not be at the trouble of carefully examining these Illustrations, not to condemn them of false and extravagant Consequences, which may be deduc'd from want of understanding them. I have some Reason to make this Request, not only because I have right to demand of the Readers, who are my Judges, not to condemn without understanding me, but on several other Accounts, which it is not necessary for me to declare in this Place.

ILLUSTRATIONS UPON THE TREATISE Concerning the SEARCH after TRUTH.

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THE FIRST ILLUSTRATION UPON THE First CHAPTER of the First BOOK. God works whatever is real in the Motions of the Mind, and in the Determinations of them; notwithstanding which, he is not the Author of Sin. He works whatever is real in the Sensations of Concupiscence, and yet is not the Author of it.

SOME Persons pretend that I relinquish the Comparison of the Mind and Matter too soon; and fansie the one has no more Power than the other to determine the Impression which God gives it; and therefore wish me to explain (if I can) what it is that God works in us, and what we do our selves, when we sin; since in their Opinion, I shall be oblig'd by my Explication, either to grant that Man is capable of giving himself some new Modification, or to acknowledge that God is actually the Author of Sin.

I answer, That Faith, Reason, and my own inward Consciousness, oblige me to quit the Comparison where I do; being every way convinc'd, that I have in my self a Principle of my own Determinations, and having Reasons to persuade, that Matter has no such Principle; which shall be prov'd hereafter: Mean while here is what God operates in us, and what we do our selves, when we sin.

First, God continually drives us, by an invincible Impression, towards Good in general. Secondly, He represents to us the Idea of a particular Good, or gives us the Sensation of it. Lastly, He inclines us to this particular Good.

First, God drives us continually towards Good in general. For God has made us, and still preserves us for Himself. He wills that we shall love all Good, and is the first, or rather only Mover. In brief, this is evident from innumerable things that I have said elsewhere, and those I speak to will not dispute it.

Secondly, God represents to us the Idea of a particular Good, or gives us the Sensation of it: For 'tis he alone that enlightens us, and the surrounding Bodies cannot act upon our Mind. In a word, we are neither our own Light, nor our own Felicity, as I have proved at large in the Third Book, and elsewhere.

Lastly, God inclines us to this particular Good: For God inducing us to all that's Good, by a necessary Consequence, inclines us to particular Goods, by producing the Idea or Sensation of them in our Mind. This therefore is all that God effects in us when we sin.

But whereas a particular Good includes not in it all Good; and the Mind, considering it with a clear and distinct View, cannot imagine it concludes all; God does not necessarily and invinsibly incline us to the love of it. We are conscious of the Liberty we have to stay this Love, and of our Tendency to proceed farther: In a word, we feel the Impression we have for Good Universal: or, to speak as others do, we are sensible that our Will is not under any constraint or necessity to fix upon this particular Good.

So then this is what the Sinner does: He stops, he rests, he follows not the Impression of God, he does nothing: For Sin is Nothing. He knows that the grand Rule he is to observe is to employ his Liberty so far as it will go; and that he is not to fasten upon any Good, unless he be inwardly convinc'd it would be offending against ORDER, to refuse to stay upon it. If he discovers not this Rule, by the light of his Reason, he learns it at least from the secret Reproaches of [Page] his Conscience. He is obliged then to follow the Impression he receives for the Universal Good; and to think of other Goods besides what he enjoys, and what he is only to make use of: For 'tis by thinking on other Goods besides what he enjoys, that he can produce in himself new Determinations of his Love, and make use of his Liberty. Now I prove that by the Impression God gives him for Good in general, he may think of other Goods, besides that of his present Enjoyment, it being precisely in this that the Difficulty consists.

See the 6th Chap. of Book 3. and its Illustration.'Tis a Law of Nature, that the Ideas of Objects should offer themselves to our Mind when we desire to think of them, provided our Capacity of Thought be not fill'd up by the lively and confus'd Sensations we receive occasionally from the Motions in our Body. Now we can Will the thinking on all things; because the natural Impression which carries us towards Good, reaches to all possible Objects of our Thought: And we can at all times think on all things; because we are united to Him who comprehends the Ideas of all things, as I have formerly proved.

If it be true then that we can Will the considering nearly, what we already see as afar off, since we are united with the Universal Being; and if it be certain that, by virtue of the Laws of Nature, Ideas approach us when we desire it; we ought thence to infer:

First, That we have a Principle of our Determinations. For 'tis the actual Presence of particular Ideas, that positively determines, towards particular Goods, the Motion we have towards Good in general; and so changes our Natural Love, into Free and deliberate Loves: Our Consent, or Acquiescence in the preception of a Particular Good, has nothing real or positive in it on our Part; as I shall explain by and by.

Secondly, That the Principle of our Determinations is always free in regard to particular Goods. For we are not invincibly inclin'd to love them; since we can examine them in themselves, and compare them with the Idea which we have of the Sovereign Good, or with other particular Goods. Thus the Principle of our Liberty consists in this, that being made for God, and united to him, we can always think on the true Good, or on other Goods besides those which our Thoughts are actually engag'd on.

But this, on supposition that our Sensations do not take up the Capacity of our Mind. For to the end we may be free with the Liberty foremention'd, it is necessary not only that God should not push us, invincibly, to particular Goods; but also that we should be able to employ our Impression for Good in general, to the loving other Objects than those we love at present. But as those only can be the actual Objects of our Love, which can be of our Thoughts; and that we cannot actually think, except on those which occasion very lively Sensations, whilst they occasion them; it is plain, that the dependance we have upon our Body weakens our Liberty, and in many Junctures, quite destroys the use of it. So that our Sensations obliterating our Ideas; and the Union we have with our Body, whereby we discern only our selves, enfeebling that we have with God, whereby all things are present to us; the Mind ought not to give way to be shar'd by confus'd Sensations, if it would preserve entire the free Principle of its Determinations.

From all which it is evident, that God is not the Author of Sin, and that Man endues not himself with any new Modifications: God is not the Author of Sin; because he continually impresses on the Sinner, who stops at a particular Good, a Motion to go farther; gives him a Power of thinking on other things, and tending to other Goods, than those which actually engage his Thoughts and Affections; and commands him not to love whatever he can refuse to love without inward Disquiet and Remorse: withal continually recalling him to his God, by the secret Reproaches of his Reason.

'Tis true that in one sense God inclines the Sinner to Love the Object of his Sin; if this Object appears Good to a Sinner: for as most Divines say, whatever there is of a positive nature of Act, or Motion in the Sin, proceeds from God. But 'tis only by a false Judgment of our Mind that the Creatures seem good to us; I mean capable of acting in us, and making us happy. But the Sin of a Man consists not in his loving a particular Good; for every Good, as such, is amiable; but in his loving only this Good, or loving it as much or more than another that is greater; or in his loving a Good which God forbids him to enjoy; for that the Mind being subject to the Body,See the Ilstration upon Ch. 3. Part 2. Book 6. where I explain my meaning more distinctly. pursuant to the Fall, the Love, or rather the Enjoyment of this Good, would encrease his Concupiscence, and alienate him from the love of the supreme Good. In a word, the Sin of Man consists in his not referring all particular Goods to the supreme: or rather in his not considering and loving the supreme Good in all the particular; and so not regulating his Love by the WILL of GOD, or according to essential and necessary ORDER, of which all Men have a more or less perfect Knowledge, as they are stricter or looser united to God; or are more or less Sensible to the Impressions of their Senses and Passions. For our Senses import our Soul into our whole Body; and our Passions, as it were, export it to circumambient Objects; and so remove us from the Divine Light, which would penetrate and illuminate us.

Nor does Man give himself new Modifications: For the Motion of Love which God constantly imprints on us, is neither augmented nor diminish'd; whether we do or do not actually love; I mean, whether this natural Motion of Love be, or be not determin'd by some Idea of our Mind. Nor does this Motion cease by its Acquiescence in the Possession of Good, as Motion of Bodies ceases by their Rest. There is great likelihood that God pushes us at all times alike with an even Force towards him; for he pushes us on towards Good in general, as fast as we are capable; and we are at all times equally capable, because our Will, or our natural Capacity of Willing, is always equal to it self. Thus, I say, the Impression, or natural Motion, which carries us towards Good, never encreases or diminishes.

[Page]I confess we have no clear Idea, nor indeed inward Sensation of the Evenness of that Impression, or natural Motion towards Good: But this comes from our not knowing it by Idea, (which I have formerly See the 7th Chap. of the 3d Book▪ and the Illustration upon it. prov'd,) and from our not being conscious of our Faculties, whilst they do not actually operate. We feel not what is natural and common, and always the same in us; as the Heat and Beating of the Heart. We are even insensible of our Habits, and whether we are deserving of the Love, or Wrath of GodN [...]mo scit utrum amore, vel odio dignus scit. Eccl. 4.1.. We have perhaps infinite Faculties, which are perfectly unknown to us: For we are not inwardly conscious of all that we are, but only of all that we feel. Had we never felt Pain, nor desir'd particular Goods, we could not by our Self-Consciousness, have told whether we are capable of feeling Pain, or of willing those Goods: It being our Memory, and not our internal Sense, which teaches us we are capable of feeling what we do not feel; or of being mov'd by such Passions, as do not actually agitate us. There is nothing therefore that can hinder our believing, that God draws us towards him with an equal Force, though in a very different manner; and that he preserves in our Soul an equal Capacity of willing, or one and the same Will, as he preserves in Matter, collectively taken, an equal quantity of Motion. But though this should not be certain, yet I can't see how it can be said, that the Augmentation or Diminution of the Natural Motion of our Soul depends on us, since we cannot be the Cause of the Extent of our own Will.

It is moreover certain, from what I said before, That God produces and preserves in us all that's real and positive in the particular Determinations of the Motion of our Soul; namely, our Ideas and Sensations: For this it is which determines our Motion towards Good in general, to particular Goods, but not in an irresistible manner, because we have a tendency to go farther. Hence all that is done on our part when we sin, is our not doing all we yet have the power to do, by means of our impression towards Him who comprehends all Goods; for all our Power is deriv'd from our Union with Him who works all in us. Now the principal cause of our sinning is, that preferring Enjoyment to Examination, by reason of the Pleasure accruing to our Enjoying, and the Pain attending our Examining; we desist to employ the Motion which is given us for the pursuit and disquisition of Good; and we dwell upon the enjoyment of things, which we should no more than make use of. But if we observe the Matter nearly, we shall see that in this there is nothing real on our part, but only an intermission and cessation of Enquiry, which corrupts, as I may say, the Action of God in us, but yet can never destroy it. So then, when we do not sin, What is it we do? We do all that God does in us; for we do not confine to a particular Good, or rather a False one, the Love which God impresses on us for the True. And when we sin, What do we do then? Nothing. For we love a false Good, to which God does not carry us by an irresistible impression; we cease to persue the true Good, and frustrate the Motion God gives us towards itIn some Editions it is thus: But we love a particular Good: True; but Sin consists not precisely in that: For all Good is amiable, and ought to be loved. Our Love is in it self good; and even in our loving that particular Good, we follow the Impression which God gives us. Our Sin precisely consists in our fastening upon that particular Good the Impression which God gives us to love all Good, or universal Good, at the time when we both might, and ought to love it. Therefore Sin is nothing; and though God does all, he does it not. Now whilst, &c.. Now whilst we love a particular good only, or against ORDER, we receive as great an impression of Love from God, as if we did not fix upon it. Moreover this particular Determination, which is neither necessary nor invincible, is given us of God; and therefore in sinning, we produce no new Modification in our selves.

However, I own that when we sin not, but resist Temptation, we may be said in one sense to give our selves a new Modification; because we chuse to think on other things than the seeming Goods wherewith we are tempted. But all that we then do, is produc'd by the Action which God puts in us; that is, either by our Motion towards Good in general, or by our Will assisted by Grace; I mean, enlightned by Knowledge, and forwarded by a preventing delectation. For in fine, If the willing different things be suppos'd to be giving different Modifications, I deny not but in this Sense, the Mind may diversly modifie it self by the Action it receives from God.

But 'tis always to be observ'd, that this Action deriv'd into us from God depends upon our selves, and is not irresistible, with respect to particular Goods. For upon the presentation of a particular Good, we are inwardly conscious of our Liberty on its behalf, as we are of our Pleasure and Pain, when they sensibly affect us: And the same Reason convinces us we are Free, that convinces us we Exist; for 'tis the inward consciousness or feeling of our own Thoughts, that give us to know we have a Being. And, if at the same time that we are sensible of our Liberty, with respect to a particular Good, we ought to doubt of it, for want of having a clear Idea thereof; we ought no less to doubt of our Pain, and our Existence at the time of our Misery, since we have no clear Idea either of our Soul or Pain.

It goes quite otherwise with our inward Sensation or Conscience, than with our outward Senses. The latter always deceive us in something, when we follow their reports: but the former never deceives us. 'Tis by the outward Senses I see Colours on the surface of Bodies, that I hear Sound in the Air, that I feel Pain in my Hand; and their Testimony deceives me, if I rely upon it: But 'tis by my inward Sensation that I see Colour, that I hear Sound, that I suffer Pain; and I err not in believing I see when I see, hear when I hear, and suffer when I suffer; provided I stop and go no farther. These things are too self-evident to be longer insisted on. Therefore being inwardly conscious of our Liberty, at the time of a particular Good's being present to the Mind, we are not to be doubtful of our Freedom on its respect. But whereas this inward Sensation is sometimes absent from our Mind, and we consult only what confus'd remains it has left [Page] in our Memory; we may by the consideration of abstracted reasons, which keep us from an inward feeling, persuade our selves that 'tis impossible for Man to be free: Just as a Stoick who in want of nothing, and Philosophizing at his Case, may imagine that Pain is no Evil, because the Internal Sense he has of himself, does not actually convince him of the contrary; and so he may prove, like Seneca, by reasons in one sense most true, that 'tis a contradiction for the wise man to be miserable.

But though our Self-consciousness were insufficient to convince us of our Freedom, yet Reason might evince as much: For since the light of Reason assures us that God acts only for himself, and that he can give no Motion to us, but what must tend towards him; the Impression towards Good in general may be irresistible; but 'tis plain, that that which we have for particular Goods must be necessarily free. For if it were invincible, we should have no Motion to carry us to God, though he gives it only for himself; and we should be constrain'd to settle on particular Goods; though GOD, ORDER and REASON, forbid us. So that Sin could not be laid at our door, and God would be the real Cause of our Corruptions; forasmuch as we should not be Free, but purely Natural, and altogether necessary Agents.

Thus though inward Sensation did not teach us we were free, Reason would discover it was necessary for Man to be created so; if we suppose him capable of desiring particular Goods, and only capable of desiring them through the Impression or Motion which God perpetually gives us for himself. Which likewise may be prov'd by Reason. But our capacity to suffer Pain cannot be prov'd this way; but can only be discover'd by Conscience, or inward Sensation; and yet no Man can doubt but a Man is liable to suffer Pain.

As we know not our Soul by any clear Idea we have of it, as I have before explain'd, so 'tis in vain to try to discover what it is in us that terminates the Action which God impresses, or that yields to be conquer'd by a resistible Determination, and which we may change by our Will, or by our Impression towards all Good, and our Union with him, who includes the Ideas of all Beings. For in short, we have no clear Idea of any Modification of our Soul: Nothing but our Internal Sense can teach us that we are, and what we are: and this only must be consulted to convince us we are free. And its Answers are clear, and satisfactory enough upon the Point, when we actually propose to our selves any particular Good; for no Man whatever can doubt whether he be invinsibly inclin'd to eat of a Fruit, or avoid some slight inconsiderable Pain. But if instead of hearkning to our Inward Sensation, we attend to abstracted Reasons, which throw us off the Contemplation of our selves, possibly losing sight of them, we may forget that we are in Being; and trying to reconcile the prescience of God, and his absolute power over us, with our Liberty, we shall plunge into an Errour that will overturn all the Principles of Religion and Morality.

I produce here an Objection which is usually made against what I have been saying, which though but very weak and defective, is strong enough to give a great many trouble to evade. The Hating of God, say they, is an Action which does not partake of Good; and therefore is all the Sinner's, God having no part in it: And consequently Man acts and gives himself new Modifications, by an action which does not come from God.

I Answer, That Sinners hate not God, but because they freely and falsly judge that he is Evil; for Good, consider'd as such, cannot be the Object of Hatred. Therefore they hate God with that very Motion of Love he influences them with towards Good. Now the Reason why they conclude he is not Good, is their making an undue use of their Liberty; for being not convinc'd with irresistible Evidence that he is not Good, they ought not to believe him Evil, nor consequently to hate him.

In Hatred two things may be distinguish'd, viz. the Sensation of the Soul, and Motion of the Will. This Sensation cannot be Evil; for it is a Modification of the Soul, and has neither Moral Good nor Ill in it. Nor is the Motion more corrupt, since it is not distinguishable from that of Love. For External Evil being only the privation of Good, 'tis manifest, that to fly Evil, is to fly the privation of Good, that is, to pursue Good. Wherefore all that is real and positive, even in our Hatred of God himself, has nothing Evil in it; and the Sinner cannot hate God, without an abominable abuse of the action which God incessantly gives to incline him to the Love of Him.

God works whatever is real in the Sensations of Concupiscence, and yet is not the Author of Concupiscence.

This Illustration relates to the fifth Chapter of the first Book of the Search.AS the Difficulties that are rais'd about Concupiscence, are near akin to those before explain'd; I think it convenient to shew, that God is not the Author of Concupiscence, though it be he that works all in us, even in the production of sensible Pleasure.

It ought, I think to be granted for the Reasons produc'd in the Fifth Chapter of the First Book of the preceding Treatise, and elsewhere, that by the natural Laws of the Union of the Soul and Body, Man, even before the Fall, was inclin'd by preventing Pleasures to the use of sensible Goods; and that as often as such and such Traces were delineated in the principal part of his Brain, such and such Thoughts arose in his Mind. Now those Laws were most Proper and Equitable, for the Reasons I there have given: Which being suppos'd, as before the Trangressions all things were perfectly well order'd, so Man had necessarily that Power over his Body, as that he could prevent the production of these Traces when he would; Order requiring that his Mind should have the Dominion over his Body: Which Power of his Mind precisely consisted in this, that according to its different [Page] Desires and Applications, it stopt the Communication of Motions which were produc'd in his own Body by circumambient Objects, over which his Will had not an immediate and direct Authority, as over his proper Body: And it cannot, I think, be conceiv'd how he could hinder the Formation of the Traces in his Brain any other way. Therefore the Will of God, or the general Law of Nature, which is the true Cause of the Communication of Motions, depended on some occasions, upon the Will of Adam: For God had that consideration for him; that he produc'd not without his consent new Motions in his Body, or at least in the principal part to which his Soul was immediately uni [...]ed.

Such was the Institution of Nature before the Sin. ORDER would have it so; and consequently HE whose essential and necessary Will is always conformable to ORDER. Which Will remaining immutably the same, the Establish'd Order was subverted by the first Man's Disobedience; because for the demerits of his Sin, it was consonant to Order, that he should be Lord of nothing. It is not reasonable that the Sinner should suspend the Communication of Motions, that the Will of God should conform to his;In the Objection to the Article of the Illustration upon the seventh Chapter of the second Book, I explain what I here say in general of the loss of Power, Man had over his Body. or that any exceptions should be made to the Law of Nature on his Behalf: In so much that Man is subject to Concupiscence, his Mind depends on his Body; he feels in himself indeliberate Pleasures, and involuntary and rebellious Motions, pursuant to that most just and exact Law which unites the two Parts of which he is compos'd.

Thus the formal Reason of Concupiscence, no less than that of Sin, is nothing real and positive; being no more in Man, than the loss of the Power he had to wave, and suspend to the Communication of Motions on some occasions: Nor are we to admit any positive Will in God to produce it. For this loss which Man has sustain'd, was not a consequence of Order, or of the immutable Will of God, which never swerves from it, and is constantly the same; but only a consequence of Sin, which has rendred Man unworthy of an Advantage due only to his Innocence and Uprightness. Wherefore we may say, that not God, but Sin only, has been the Cause of Concupiscence.

Nevertheless, God Works all that is Real and Positive in the Sensations and Motions of Concupiscence; for God does every thing: but all that has nothing of Evil. 'Tis by the general Law of Nature, that is, by the Will of God, that sensible Objects produce in Man's Body certain Motions, and that these Motions raise in the Soul certain Sensations, useful to the preservation of the Body, or the Porpagation of the Species. Who then dare presume to say these things are not good in themselves?

I know it is said that Sin is the Cause of certain Pleasures. But do they that say it, conceive it? Can it be thought that Sin, which is nothing, should actually produce something? Can nothing be suppos'd to be a (real) Cause. However 'tis so said: but possibly for want of taking due pains of seriously considering what they say; or because they are unwilling to enter on an Explication that is contrary to the Discourses they have heard from Men, who, it may be, talk with more Gravity and Assurance, than Reflexion and Knowledge.

Sin is the Cause of Concupiscence, but not of Pleasure; as Free Will is the Cause of Sin, though not of the natural Motion of the Soul. The Pleasure of the Soul is good, as well as its Motion or Love: and there is nothing good but what God does. The Rebellion of the Body, and the guilt of Pleasure, proceed from Sin: As the Adherency of the Soul to a particular Good, or its Rest, proceeds from the Sinner: But these are only Privations and Nothings, whereof the Creature is capable.

Every Pleasure is Good, and likewise in some measure makes happy the Possessour, at least for the time of the Enjoyment: But it may be said to be evil; because instead of elevating the Mind to Him that is the true Cause of it, through the Errour of our Intellectual, and corruption of our Moral Part, it prostrates it before sensible Objects, that only seem to produce it. Again it is evil, in as much as it is Injustice in us who are Sinners; and consequently meriting rather to be punish'd than rewarded, to oblige God pursuant to his (Primitive) Will, to recompense us with pleasant Sensations. In a word (not to repeat here what I have said in other places) it is evil, because God at present forbids it, by Reason of its alienating the Mind from himself, for whom he hath made and preserves it. For that which was ordain'd by God to preserve Righteous Man in his Innocence, now fixes sinful Man in his Sin; and the Sensations of Pleasure, which he wisely establish'd as the easiest and most obvious Expedients to teach Man, (without calling off his Reason from his true Good,) whether he ought to unite himself with the invironing Bodies; at present fill the Capacity of his Mind, and fasten him on Objects incapable of acting in him, and infinitely below him; because he looks upon these Objects to be the true Causes of the Happiness he enjoys occasionally from them.

THE SECOND ILLUSTRATION UPON THE First CHAPTER of the First BOOK; Where I say, That the Will cannot diversly determine its Propensity to Good, but by commanding the Vnderstanding to represent to it some particular Object.

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IT must not be imagin'd that the Will commands the Understanding any other Way than by its Desires and Motions, there being no other Action of the Will: nor must it be believ'd that the Understanding obeys the Will, by producing in it self the Ideas of Things which the Soul desires; for the Understanding acts not at all, but only receives Light, or the Ideas of Things, through its necessary Union with Him who comprehends all Beings in an intelligible manner, as is explain'd in the See the Illustration upon the 6 [...]h Chapter of Part II. Book III. Third Book.

Here then is all the Mystery; Man participates of the Sovereign Reason, and Truth displays it self to him proportionably to his Application, and his praying to it. Now the Desire of the Soul is a Natural Prayer, that is always heard; it being a natural Law, that Ideas should be so much readier, and more present to the Mind, as the Will is more earnest in desiring them. Thus, provided our Thinking Capacity, or Understanding, be not clogg'd and fill'd up by the confus'd Sensations we receive occasionally from the Motions occurring in our Body, we should no sooner desire to think on any Object, but its Idea would be always present to our Mind; which Idea, Experience witnessing, is so much more present and clear, as our Desire is more importunate, and our confus'd Sensations, furnish'd to us by the Body, less forcible and applicative, as I have said in the foregoing Illustration.

Therefore, in saying that the Will commands the Understanding to represent to it some particular Object, I meant no more than that the Soul, willing to consider that Object with Attention, draws near it by her Desire; because this Desire, consequently to the efficacious Wills of God, which are the inviolable Laws of Nature, is the Cause of the Presence and Clearness of the Idea that represents the Object. I could not at that time speak otherwise than I did, nor explain my self as I do at present, as having not yet prov'd God the sole Author of our Ideas, and our particular Volitions only the occasional Causes of them. I spoke according to the common Opinion, as I have been frequently oblig'd to do, because all cannot be said at once: The Reader ought to be equitable, and give Credit for some time, if he would have Satisfaction; for none but Geometricians pay always down in hand.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Third CHAPTER of the First BOOK; Where I say, That Mysteries of Faith being of a Supernatural Order, we need not wonder if we want the Evidence, since we want the Ideas of them.

WHen I say that we have no Ideas of the Mysteries of Faith, it is visible from the foregoing and following Discourse, that I speak but of clear Ideas, which are productive of Light and Evidence, and which give us a Comprehension of the Object, if we may be allow'd so to speak. I grant that a Peasant could not believe, for Example, that the Son of God was made Man, or [Page] that there were Three Persons in the Godhead, if he had no Idea of the Union of the WORD with our Humanity, and no Notion of Person. But if these Ideas were clear, we might by considering them, perfectly comprehend these Mysteries, and explain them to others; and so they would be no longer ineffable Mysteries. The Word Person has, as Ne omnino taceremus interrogati quid▪ tres cum tres esse fateamur; S. Aust. de Trin. lib. 7. cap. 4. And in another place, Cum quaeritur quid tres? Magna prorsus inopia humanum laborat Eloquium. Dictum est tamen tres personae non ut illud diceretur, sed ne taceretur. Ibid. lib. 5. cap. 9. St. Austin says, been apply'd to the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, not so much to express distinctly what they are, as not to be silent upon a Mystery whereof we are oblig'd to speak.

I say here that we have no Ideas of our Mysteries, as I said elsewhere we have no Idea of our Soul; because the Idea we have of the latter is no clearer than those we have of the former: Therefore the Word Idea is equivocal; sometimes I have taken it for whatever represents to the Mind any Object, whether clearly, or confus'd and darkly; sometimes more generally, for whatever is the immediate Object of the Mind; sometimes likewise for that which represents Things so clearly to the Mind, that we may with a bare Perception discover whether such or such Modifications do belong to them. For this Reason I have sometimes said we Chap. 10. Book I. had an Idea of the Soul, and sometimes deny'd it; See Ch. 7. Book III. and its Illustration. for 'tis difficult, and often wearisom and ungrateful to observe a too vigorous Exactness in one's Expressions.

When an Author contradicts himself but in the Opinion of his Criticks, or such as would fain have him do it, he ought not to be much concern'd at it; and if he would satisfie by tedious Explications whatever the Malice or Ignorance of Men might object to him, he would not only compose an ill Book, but all his Readers would be disgusted with the Answers he gave to Objections, either imaginary, or contrary to that equitable Temper which all the World pretends to; for a Man cannot endure to be suspected either of Malice or Ignorance; nor is it allowable to answer weak or invidious Objections for the most part, except when there are Men that have urg'd them, and so have skreen'd the Reader from the Reproach which such Answers seem to asperse on those that demand them.

THE ILLUSTRATION On these Words of the Fifth CHAPTER of the First BOOK, This being the Case, it ought to be concluded that Adam was not invited to the Love of God, and the rest of his Duty, by a preventing Pleasure; forasmuch as the Knowledge which he had of God, as of his Good, and the Joy he was continually possess'd with, necessarily consequent to the View of his Felicity in his uniting himself with God, were sufficient Motives to recommend his Duty to him, and to make his Actions more meritorious than if he had been, as it were, determin'd by a preventing Pleasure.

IN order to our distinct understanding all this, it must be known that we are determin'd to act from only Knowledge and Pleasure; for whenever we begin to love an Object, 'tis from our discovering by Reason that it is good, or feeling by Pleasure that it is agreeable. But there is great difference between Knowledge and Pleasure: Knowledge enlightens our Mind, and manifests the Good, but does not actually and efficatiously incline us to the loving it; whereas Pleasure effectually drives and determines us to love the Object that seems to cause it. Knowledge, or Light, does not induce us of it self; but leaving us wholly to our selves, lets us freely determine our own Motion to the Good which it presents: Pleasure, on the contrary, anticipates our Reason, interrupts us from consulting it, leaves us not to our own Conduct, and weakens our Liberty.

Therefore, as Adam had before his Fall, a Time appointed to merit Eternal Happiness, and had a full and perfect Liberty to that intent; and as his Light was sufficient to hold him closely united to God, whom he already lov'd by the natural Tendency of his Soul; he ought not to be carry'd to his Duty by preventing Ple [...]sures, which would have lessen'd his Merit by lessening his Liberty. Adam might have had some sort of Right to complain of God, if he had hinder'd him from meriting his Reward as he ought to do; that is, by Actions absolutely free: [Page] And it had been a sort of injuring his Free Will, Fortissimo quippe dimisit atque permisit facere quod vellet. Aug. de Corrupt. & Grat. cap. 12. See the 5th Dialogue of the Christian Conversations, towards the End of the Brussels Edition. for God to have given him that kind of Grace which is at present only necessary to counterpoise the preventing Delights of Concupiscence. Whilst Adam had all necessary Supplies for his Perseverance, it had been to suspect his Vertue, and, as it were, to accuse him of Infidelity, to give him any Prevention: It had been leaving him an Occasion of Glorying in himself, to have taken away all Sense of the Wants possible to befall him, and Infirmities he was obnoxious to; for I own that as yet he had neither Want nor Weakness. Lastly, What is infinitely more considerable, it had been to render the Incarnation of JESUS CHRIST indifferent; which certainly was the first and greatest Design of Him who suffer'd all Men to be involv'd in Sin, that he might shew them Mercy in JESUS CHRIST, to the end that he who glories might glory only in the LORD.

To me therefore it seems undeniable that Adam had no Sense of Preventing Pleasures in his Duty, but it does not seem equally certain that he had a Sense of Joy, though I suppose it here, as believing it highly probable. But to explain my self:

There is this Difference between Preventing Pleasure and the Pleasure of Joy, that the former precedes Reason, and the latter follows it; for Joy naturally results from the Knowledge one has of his own Happiness or Perfections, because he cannot consider himself as happy or perfect, but he must instantly thereupon feel a certain Joy. As we may be conscious of our Happiness by Pleasure, or discover it by Reason, so Joy is of two sorts; I speak not here of that which is purely sensible, but of that which Adam might have been possess'd with, as necessarily consequent to the Knowledge he had of his Happiness in uniting himself with God: And some Reasons there are, which make it doubtful whether he was actually possess'd of it.

The Principal of all is, that his Mind perhaps had been so taken up with it, that it had robbed him of his Liberty, and invincibly united him to God; for 'tis reasonable to believe that this Joy ought to be proportion'd to the Happiness which Adam possess'd, and consequently exceeding great.

But in answer to this, I say, First, That purely Intellectual Joy leaves the Mind to its entire Liberty, and takes up but very little of its Thinking Capacity; wherein it differs from Sensible Joy, which commonly disturbs the Reason, and lessens the Liberty.

I answer, Secondly, That the Happiness of Adam at the first Instant of his Creation, did not consist in a plenary and entire Possession of the Supreme Good, it being possible for him to lose it, and become miserable: But herein his Happiness especially consisted, That he suffer'd no Evil, and was in the good Favour of Him who must have perfected his Felicity, if he had persever'd in his State of Innocency. Thus his Joy was not excessive; nay, it was or ought to have been temper'd with an Alloy of Fear, for he ought to have been diffident of himself.

I answer, Lastly, That Joy does not always intend the Mind upon the true Cause that produces it: As a Sense of Joy arises upon the Contemplation of one's own Perfections, it is natural to believe that Prospect is the Cause of it; for when a Thing constantly follows from another, 'tis naturally look'd upon as one of its Effects. Thus a Man considers himself as the Author of his own present Happiness, he finds a secret Complacency in his Natural Perfections, he loves himself, and thinks not of Him who operates in him in an imperceptible manner.

'Tis true, Adam more distinctly knew than the greatest of Philosophers, that God alone was able to act in him, and produce that Sense of Joy which he felt upon the Consideration of his Happiness and Perfections. This he knew clearly by the Light of Reason, when he attended to it, but not by any Sensation; which, on the contrary, taught him that his Joy was a Consequence of his Perfection, seeing he had the constant Sense of it, and that without any Application on his part: And so this Sensation might lead him to consider his own Perfections, and take pleasure in himself if he either forgot, or any ways lost sight of Him whose Operations in us are not of a sensible Nature. So far would this Joy have been from rendring him impeccable, as is pretended, that, on the contrary, it might probably be the Occasion of his Pride and Fall. And 'tis for this Reason that I say in this Chapter, that Adam ought to have taken care not to have suffer'd the Capacity of his Mind to be fill'd with a presumptuous Joy, kindled in his Soul upon Reflexion on his own Natural Perfections.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Fifth CHAPTER of the First BOOK; Where I say, That Preventing Delight is the Grace of JESUS CHRIST.

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THough I say in this Chapter, that Preventing Delight is the Grace which JESUS CHRIST has particularly merited for us; and that I term it elsewhere absolutely, The Grace of our LORD; yet this is not said as if there were no other Grace besides this, or as if there were any but what He has merited; but I name it so, to distinguish it from the Grace which GOD gave Adam in his Creation, which commonly we call the Grace of the Creator: For the Grace by which Adam might have persever'd in Innocence was chiefly a Grace of Light, or Knowledge, as I have explain'd in the foregoing Reflexion; because, being free of Concupiscence, he had no need of Preventing Pleasures to resist it.

But the Grace which is at present necessary to support us in our Duty, and to beget and keep Charity alive in us, is Preventing Delectation: For as Pleasure produces and cherishes the Love of the Things that cause, or seem to cause it; so Preventing Pleasures, which Bodies occasionally administer, produce and maintain in us our Cupidity. So that Cupidity being entirely opposite to Charity, if God did not beget and sustain in us the Latter by Preventing Delectations, 'tis plain that it would be enfeebled by the Preventing Pleasures of Concupiscence, proportionably as Concupiscence was corroborated by them.

What I here say, supposes that God leaves our Concupiscence to work in us, and does not weaken it by an infus'd Abhorrence to sensible Objects, which (as a Result from Sin) must necessarily tempt us. I speak of Things according to ordinary procedure: But supposing that God lessens Concupiscence instead of increasing Delectable Grace, it comes to the same thing; for it is plain that a Balance may be put two Ways in aequilibrio, when one of the Scales is too heavy burthen'd, either by adding Weight to the opposite Scale, or retrenching the Excess of the overweighted.

Nor do I suppose it is impossible to do any good Action, without a Preventing Delectation: Upon which Particular I have explain'd my self sufficiently in the Fourth Chapter of the Third Book. And it seems too evident to be doubted, that a Man having his Heart possess'd with the Love of God, may by the Strength of his Love, unassisted with Preventing Delight, give, for instance, a Peny to a poor Man, or patiently suffer some little Affront. I am persuaded likewise that this Delight is not necessary, except when the Temptation is strong, or the Love for God weak. However, it may be said to be absolutely necessary to a Righteous Man, whose Faith might (one would think) be resolute, and his Hope strong enough to conquer very violent Temptations; the Joy or Fore-taste of Eternal Happiness being capable of resisting the sensible Allurements of transitory Goods.

'Tis true, Delectation, or Actual Grace, is necessary to every good Action, if by these Words be meant Charity, in which Sense St. Austin commonly took them: For 'tis evident, that whatever is done without some Respect or other had to God, is good for nothing. But clearing the Terms of Equivocations, and taking Delectation in the Sense I have given, I cannot see how what I have said can be call'd in question.

But see wherein the Difficulty consists: Pleasure and Love are suppos'd to be one and the same thing, because seldom apart; and St. Austin does not always distinguish them: And on this Supposition they may reasonably say as they do; and we may conclude with St. Austin, Quod amplius nos delectat, secundum id operemur necesse est: For certainly we will what we love; and so likewise it may be said, that we cannot perform any good or meritorious Action, without Delectation or Charity. Chap. 3. Book V. But I hope to make it appear in the Explanation I shall make upon the Tract concerning the Passions, that there is as much difference between Pleasure and deliberate or indeliberate Love, as there is between our Knowledge and our Love, or (to give a sensible Representation of this Difference) between the Figure of a Body and its Motion.

THE ILLUSTRATION Upon what I have said at the Beginning of the Tenth CHAPTER of the First BOOK, And in the Sixth CHAPTER of the Second BOOK, CONCERNING METHOD: That 'tis very difficult to prove the Existence of Bodies: What we ought to Esteem of the Proofs which are brought of their Existence.

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MEN are commonly perfectly ignorant of what they presume best to understand, and have a good Knowledge of other things, whilst they imagine they have not so much as their Ideas. When their Senses have to do in their Judgments, they submit to what they do not comprehend; at least to what they know but imperfectly and confusedly. And when their Ideas are purely intellectual, (give me leave to use such Expressions,) they will hardly admit undeniable Demonstrations.

What Notion, for Instance, have the generality of Men, when we prove to them most of Metaphysical Truths; when we demonstrate the Existence of a God, the Efficacy of his Will, the Immutability of his Decrees: That there is but one God, or true Cause, that works all in all things; but one Supreme Reason which all Intelligent Beings participate; but one necessary Love, which is the Principle of all created Wills? They think we pronounce Words without Sense; that we have no Ideas of the things advanc'd; and that we had better say nothing. Metaphysical Truths and Arguments are not of a sensible Nature; they have nothing moving and affecting, and consequently leave not Conviction behind them. Nevertheless, abstract Ideas are certainly the most distinct; and Metaphysical Truths the most clear and evident of all other.

Men sometimes say they have no Idea of God, nor any Knowledge of his Will, and commonly believe too what they say; but 'tis for want of knowing what they know, it may be, best: For where's the Man that hesitates in answering to the Question, Whether God is Wise, Just, or Powerful? Whether he is Divisible, Triangular, Movable, or subject to any kind of Change whatever? Whereas we cannot answer without scruple, and fear of being mistaken, whether certain Qualities do or do not belong to a Subject which we have no Idea of. So again, Who is it dares say, that God acts not by the most simple Means? That he is irregular in his Designs? That he makes Monsters by a positive, direct, and particular Will, and not by a kind of Necessity? In a word, That his Will is, or may be, contrary to ORDER, whereof every Man knows something, more or less: But if a Man had no Idea of the Will of GOD, he might at least doubt whether he acted according to certain Laws, which he clearly conceives he is obliged to follow, on Supposition HE will act.

Men therefore have the Ideas of things purely Intelligible; which Ideas are much clearer than those of sensible Objects: They are better assured of the Existence of a God, than of that of Bodies; and when they retire into themselves, they more clearly discover certain Wills of God, by which he produces and preserves all Beings, than those of their best Friends, or whom they have studied all their Lives: For the Union of their Mind with God, and that of their Will with his, that is, with the Law Eternal, or Immutable Order, is immediate, direct, and necessary; whereas their Union with sensible Objects, being founded only for the Preservation of their Life and Health, gives them no Knowledge of these Objects, but as they relate to that Design.

'Tis this immediate and direct Union, which is not known, says St. Austin, but by those whose Mind is purified; that enlightens our most secret Reason, and exhorts and moves us in the inmost Recesses of our Heart. By this we learn both the Thoughts and the Wills of God; that is, Eternal Truths and Laws: For no one can doubt but we know some of them with Evidence. But our Union with our choicest Friends teaches us not evidently either what they think, or what they will. We think we know right well, but we are most commonly mistaken, because we receive our Information only from their Lips.

Nor can our Union, which we have through our Senses, with circumambient Bodies, instruct us: For the Testimony of the Senses is never exactly true, but commonly every way false, as I [Page] have made appear in this Treatise; and 'tis for that Reason I say 'tis an harder thing than is believ'd, to prove positively the Existence of Bodies, though our Senses tell us they exist; because Reason does not so readily inform us, as we imagine; and it must be most attentively consulted to give us a clear Resolve.

But as Men are more Sensible than Reasonable, so they more willingly listen to the Verdict of the Senses, than the Testimony of internal Truth; and because they have always consulted their Eyes to be assur'd of the Existence of Matter, without troubling their Heads to advise with their Reason; they are surpriz'd to hear it said, it is hard to demonstrate it. They think they need but open their Eyes, to see that there are Bodies; but if this does not take away all suspition of Illusion, they believe it abundantly sufficient to come near and handle them; after which they can hardly conceive we can have any possible Reasons to make us doubt of their Existence.

But if we believe our Eyes, they'll tell us, that Colours are laid upon the surface of Bodies, and Light diffus'd in the Air and Sun; our Ears make us hear Sounds as undulated in the Air, and ecchoing from the ringing Bodies; and, if we credit the Report of the other Senses, Heat will be in the Fire, Sweetness in the Sugar, Odour in Musk, and all sensible Qualities in the Bodies which seem to exhale or disperse them. And yet it is certain, from the Reasons I have given in the First Book, concerning the Search after Truth, that these Qualities are not out of the Soul that feels them, at least it is not evident they are in the Bodies that are about us. What Reason therefore is there, from the Reports of our always-treacherous and delusive Senses; to conclude, there are actually Bodies without us, and that they are like those we see; I mean those which are the immediate Object of our Soul, when we behold them with bodily Eyes? Certainly this does not want Difficulty, whatever may be said of it.

Farther: If the Existence of any Body may be certainly prov'd upon the Testimony of our Senses, none could have better Pretence than That to which the Soul is immediately united: The liveliest Sensation, and that which seems to have the most necessary relation to an actually-existing Body, is Pain. And yet it often happens that those who have lost an Arm feel most violent Pains in it long after it has been cut off. They know well enough they want it, when they consult their Memory, or only look upon their Body; but the Sense of Pain deceives them: And if, as it often happens, they be suppos'd to have quite forgotten what formerly they were, and to have no other Senses left them than that whereby they feel Pain in their imaginary Arm; certainly they could not be convinc'd but that they had an Arm in which they felt so violent torment.

There have been those who have believ'd they had Horns on their Heads; others who have imagin'd they were made of Butter, or Glass, or that their Body was not of the Shape of other Mens, but fashion'd like that of a Cock, a Wolf, or an Ox. But these, you'll say, were mad Men; and I readily believe it. But their Soul was capable of deceiving them about these things, and consequently all other Men may fall into the same Errours, if they judge of Objects by the Testimony of their Senses: For it must be observ'd, that these mad Men actually feel themselves to be such as they think they are, and their Errour consists not in the Sensation they have, but in the Judgment they make. If they should only say, they felt or saw themselves like Cocks, they would not be deceiv'd: But herein only they deceive themselves, in that they believe their Body like that they feel; I mean, like that which is the immediate Object of their Mind, when they consider it. And so those who believe themselves such as they really are, are no more judicious in their Judgments they make of themselves than these mad Men, if they judge precisely by the Testimony of their Senses; but are to thank their Fortune more than their Reason, if they are not mistaken.

But at the Bottom, How can we be sure that those who go under the Notion of mad Men are really what they are taken for? May we not say they are reckon'd craz'd, because they have peculiar Sentiments? For 'tis evident, that a Man is not reckon'd mad for having the Sense of what is not, but only for having a Sense of things quite contrary to that of others, whether their Sense be true or false, right or wrong.

A Clown, for Example, having his Eyes so dispos'd as to see the Moon just such as she is, or only so as she is beheld, or sometime may be hereafter, with new-invented Glasses looks on her with Admiration, and cries to his Companions, What high Mountains and deep Valleys, what Seas,The M [...]on when beheld with a Telescope looks much like what is here represented. and Lakes, and Gulphs, and Rocks, do I behold! See, says he, what a vast Sea lies all along the East, whilst nothing but Land and Mountains extend from West to South! Don't you see on the same hand a Mountain higher than ever we beheld? And don't you wonder to see a Sea all over black, and an huge dreadful Gulph in the middle of the Planet? What would his Fellows answer to such Exclamations? Or what would they think of him? Certainly, that he was Mad, or Lunatick, and distemper'd by the malign Influences of the Planet he beholds and admires: For no Man has the same Notions, and that's enough. Thus to be mad in the Opinion of others, there's no need to be really so, but only to have Thoughts and Sensation different from them: For if all Men should believe themselves to be Cocks, he that maintain'd he had an humane Shape would certainly go for a Fool or a Mad Man.

But you'll say, Has a Man a Beak at the end of his Nose, and a Comb upon his Head? I suppose not; but I don't know so much, when I judge only by my Senses, and know not how to put them to their proper use. In vain shall I try by handling my Head and Face; for I feel my own Body, and those about me, but with Hands whose length and figure I don't know. Nay I cannot be certainly assur'd whether I have truly Hands or not; for that which makes me think I have, is, that at the time that I seem to move them, there happen some Motions in a particular part of my Brain, which, in the vulgar Notion, is the Seat of the Common Sense. But it may be I [Page] have not that Part which is so generally talk'd of, and so little known; at least I am not sensible of this, though I feel my Hands; so that I have more right to believe I have Hands than that little Gland which is still daily disputed against. But, Lastly, I know neither the Figure nor Motions of this Gland, and yet I am assured, that by them only I can be instructed in the Figure and Motion of my own Body, and those that are round about me.

Well then, What are we oblig'd to conclude from all this? Why, that 'tis not a Body that can give Light to Reason; that the Part to which the Soul is immediately united, is neither visible nor intelligible of it self; that neither our own nor surrounding Bodies can be the immediate Object of our Mind; that we cannot learn from our Brain so much, as whether it actually exists, much less whether there are circumambient Bodies: That therefore we are to fly to the Existence of some superiour Intelligence, who alone is capable of acting in us, in such a manner as to give a real Representation of external Bodies, without giving us any Idea of our Brain, though the Motions produc'd in it serve as an Occasion to this Intelligent Being, to discover these Bodies to us: For, in short, we see with Eyes, whose Figure we do not know, what is the Figure of external Bodies; and though the Colours which appear on Objects, are no livelier than those which are painted on the Optick Nerve, these are quite hid from us, whilst we admire the Splendour of the other.

But after all, Under what Obligation is an Intelligent Being to shew us Bodies upon some Motions happening in our Brain? Again, What Necessity is there of external Bodies for him to stir up these Motions in our Brain? Do not Sleep, Passions, and Madness, produce these Motions, though external Bodies do not contribute to them? Is it evident, that Bodies incapable of moving one another, See Ch. 3. Part II. of Book VI. with the Illustration. should communicate to those they strike, a moving Force which they have not in themselves? But grant that Bodies move themselves, and those they strike against; can we thence infer, that he who gives Being to all things cannot immediately by himself stir up in our Brain the Motions to which the Ideas of our Mind are connected? Lastly, Where's the Contradiction, that our Soul should receive new Ideas whilst our Brain remains without new Motions; since it is certain the latter do not produce the former, since we have no Knowledge of these Motions, and that God alone can represent to us our Ideas, See Ch. 6. Part II. of Book III. with its Illustration. as I have elsewhere proved. Therefore 'tis absolutely necessary (positively to be assured of the Existence of external Bodies) to know God who gives us the Sensation of them; and to know, that, because he is infinitely perfect, he cannot deceive us. For if the Intelligence, who furnishes us with the Ideas of all things, would, as I may say, divert himself, by representing Bodies as actually existing, whilst there was nothing of them, it is plain he could easily do it.

For these, or the like Reasons, M. des Cartes, resolving to establish his Philosophy on immovable Foundations, thought he had no right to suppose the Existence of Bodies, nor to prove them by sensible Arguments, though highly convincing with the common part of Mankind. Undoubtedly he knew as well as we, that he needed but open his Eyes to see Bodies, and to draw near and handle them, to be satisfied whether his Eyes abused him in their Reports. He well enough knew the Mind of Man, to judge that such like Proofs had been acceptable and welcome: But he did not seek for sensible Probabilities, nor vain and popular Applauses; preferring despis'd Truth before the Glory of an unmerited Reputation; and chusing rather to render himself ridiculous to little Souls, by Doubts, thought by them extravagant, than to assert what he thought not certain and undeniable.

But though M. des Cartes has given the strongest Arguments that bare Reason could furnish out for the Existence of Bodies; though it be evident, that God is no Deceiver, and it may be said he would really deceive us, did we deceive our selves, whilst we made a due use of our Mind, and the other Faculties, whereof he is the Author; yet it may be affirmed, that the Existence of Matter is not yet perfectly demonstrated: For, in fine, in point of Philosophy, we are to believe nothing till the Evidence of it obliges us; but to make use of our Liberty as much as we can, giving no greater Extent to our Judgments than our Perceptions. Wherefore, when we see Bodies, we should judge only that we see them, and that these visible or intelligible Bodies actually exist. But why must we judge positively there is a Material World without us, like the Intelligible World we perceive?

But, say you, we see these Bodies without us, and likewise very remote from that we animate: We may then judge they are without us, and yet our Judgments reach no farther than our Perceptions. But what? Don't we see Light without us, and in the Sun, though it be not in it? But be it so: Bodies that we see without us are really without us; for indeed it is not to be deny'd. But is it not evident that there are Outnesses, and Remotenesses, and intelligible Spaces in the intelligible World, which is the immediate Object of our Mind? The material Body which we animate (observe it well) is not the same we see when we behold it, I mean when we turn our corporeal Eyes upon it, but an intelligible Body; and there are intelligible Spaces between this intelligible Body and the intelligible Sun we see, as there are material Spaces between our Body and the Sun which we behold. Certainly God ordain'd Spaces between Bodies which he created, but he neither sees these Bodies nor these Spaces by themselves; he can only see them by Bodies and Spaces intellectual: God derives no Knowledge but from himself; he sees not the material World, save in the intelligible World which he comprehends, and in the Knowledge he has of his own Will, which gives actually Existence and Motion to all things. Therefore there are intelligible Spaces between the intelligible Bodies which we immediately see, as there are material Spaces between Bodies which our Eyes behold.

[Page]Now it ought to be observ'd, that as there is none but God who knows his Will by himself, which produces all Beings; it is impossible to know from any other, whether there be actually without us [...] material World like that we see; because the material World is neither Visible, nor Intelligible of it self. Therefore to be fully convinc'd of the Existence of Bodies, it is not only necessary to demonstrate there is a God, and that he is no Deceiver; but also that this God has assur'd us there is such a World actually created: Which thing I find wanting in M▪ des Cartes's Works.

God speaks to the Mind, and obliges it to assent but two several ways. By Evidence and Faith. I acknowledge that Faith obliges us to believe the Existence of Bodies: But as to Evidence, methinks it wants something to be perfect; and that we are not invincibly carry'd to believe there is any thing Existing besides God and our own Mind. 'Tis true, we have an extream propension to believe there are such things, as circumambient Bodies; So far I agree with M. des Cartes. But this Propension however natural, does not evidently force us; but only perswasively induce us, by the impression. But we ought only to form our Free Judgments, as Light and Evidence oblige us: for if we leave our selves to the guidance of sensible Impressions, we shall seldom or ever be unmistaken.

For how comes it that we erre in the Judgments we make about sensible Qualities, about the Magnitude, Figure, and Motion of Bodies, but from our following an Impression like that which induces us to believe the Existence of Bodies? Do not we sensibly perceive the Fire to be hot, Snow to be white, and the Sun to be all glorious with a radiating Light? Do not we see that sensible Qualities no less than Bodies are without us? And yet 'tis certain, that the former which we see without us are not really so; or if you had rather, there is no certainty about it. What Reason then have we to judge, that besides intelligible Bodies which we see there are others that we behold. Or what Evidence can a Man have, that an Impression, not only delusive, in respect of sensible Qualities, but also in regard to the Magnitude, Figure, and Motion of Bodies, should not be as treacherous in respect to the actual Existence of the Bodies themselves: I ask, what Evidence can a Man have? For as to Probabilities I grant they are not wanting.

I know very well there's this Difference between sensible Qualities, and Bodies; that Reason much easier corrects the Impression, or natural Judgments which relate to sensible Qualities, than those which concern the Existence of Bodies: and likewise that all the corrections made by Reason, with reference to sensible Qualities, perfectly comport with Religion, and Christian Morality, and that we cannot deny the Existence of Bodies, through a Principle of Religion.

'Tis easie to conceive that Pleasure, and Pain, Heat, and even Colours, are not Modes of corporeal Existence; that sensible Qualities in general are not contain'd in the Idea we have of Matter. In a Word, that our Senses do not represent sensible Objects, as they are in their own nature, but as they are with reference to the preservation of our Health and Life; which is conformable, not only to Reason, but much more to Religion, and Christian Morality; as has been evidenc'd in several places of this Treatise.

But 'tis not so easie to be positively ascertain'd of the Non-existence of External Bodies, as it is to be positively convinc'd, that Pain and Heat are not in the Bodies which seem to cause them in us. 'Tis most certain, at least, that there's a possibility of outward Bodies: We have no Argument to prove there are none, and we have a very strong inclination to believe there are; and therefore we have more reason to conclude for the Existence than the Non-existence of them; and consequently it seems that we ought to believe they are. For we are naturally inclin'd to follow our natural Judgment so long as it's not positively corrigible by Light and Evidence. For every natural Judgment coming from God may be rightly seconded by our free Judgments, when God furnishes us not with means to manifest its falsity; And if on such occasions we mistake, the Author of our Mind may seem in a manner to be the Author of our Errors and Delinquencies.

This Reasoning is, possibly, good: though it must be acknowledg'd that it ought not to go for an Evident Demonstration of the Existence of Bodies: For indeed God does not irresistibly force us to consent to it; if we give our consent, it is a free act, and we may with-hold it if we please: If this arguing I have made be just, we are to believe it highly probable, that there are Bodies; but this bare Argumentation alone ought not to give us a plenary Conviction and Acquiescence; otherwise, it is we our selves that act, and not God in us; it being by a free act, and consequently liable to Error, that we consent, and not by an invincible Impression: for we believe it freely because we will, and not because we see any obliging Evidence.

Surely nothing but Faith can convince us of the actual Existence of Bodies: We can have no exact Demonstration of any other Being's Existence, than the necessary: and if we warily consider it, we shall find it even impossible to know with perfect Evidence, whether GOD is, or is not the Creatour of a Material, and sensible World; for no such Evidence is to be met with, except in necessary Relations, which are not to be found betwixt GOD, and such a World as this. It was possible for him not to have created it: If he has made it, it is because he will'd it, and freely will'd it.

The Saints in Heaven see by an evident Light, That the FATHER begets the SON, and that the HOLY GHOST proceeds from the FATHER and the SON; for these are necessary Emanations: But the World being no necessary Emanation from GOD; those who most clearly see his Being, see not evidently his External Productions. Nevertheless I am perswaded, that the Blessed are certain of the World's Existence; but 'tis because GOD assures them of it, by manifesting his Will to them, in a manner by us unknown; and we on Earth are certain too: but 'tis because Faith obliges us to believe, That GOD has created this World; and that this Faith is [Page] conformable to our natural Judgments, or our compound Sensations, when they are confirm'd by all our Senses, corrected by our Memory, and rectify'd by our Reason.

I confess, that at first sight the Proof or Principle of our Faith seems to suppose the Existence of Bodies: Fides ex auditu. It seems to suppose Prophets, Apostles, Sacred-Writ and Miracles; but if we closely examine it, we shall find, that in supposing but the Appearances of Men, Prophets, Apostles, Holy Scripture, Miracles, &c. what we have learn'd from these supposs'd Appearances, stands undeniably certain; since, as I have prov'd in several places of this Work, GOD only can represent to the Mind these pretended Appearances; and He is no Deceiver. For Faith supposes all this, Now in the Appearance of Holy Scripture, and by the Seemingness of Miracles, we learn, That GOD has created an Heaven and an Earth, that the Word is made Flesh, and other such like Truths, which suppose the Existence of a created World. Therefore Faith verifies the Existence of Bodies; and all these Appearances are actually substantiated by it. 'Tis needless to insist longer upon answering an Objection, which seems too abstracted for the common part of Men; and I believe that this will be enough to satisfie those who pretend not to be over-difficult.

From all which we are to conclude, That we both may, and ought to correct our Natural Judgments, or compound Perceptions, which relate to the sensible Qualities, we attribute to the Bodies that surround us, or to That we animate. But as for natural Judgments, which relate to the actual Existence of Bodies; though absolutely, we are not oblig'd to form free ones to accord with them; yet we ought not to supersede doing it, because these natural Judgments agree perfectly with Faith.

Finally, I have made this Explanation, chiefly to the intent we may seriously reflect upon this Truth; That nothing but Eternal Wisdom can enlighten us, and that all sensible Notices, wherein our Body is concern'd, are fallacious; at least are not attended with that Light, which we feel our selves oblig'd to submit to. I am sensible that these Notions will not pass with the common sort of Men; and that as they are dispos'd by the Superfluity, or Poverty of their Animal Spirits, they will either ridicule, or flinch at the Reasonings I have laid down. For the Imagination cannot endure abstract and un-ordinary Truths: but either considers them as ghastly Spectres, or ridiculous Phantasms; But I chuse rather to be the Subject of Droll, and Raillery for the strong and bold Imagination, and the Object of Indignation, and Fear to the weak and timorous; than to be wanting in what I owe to Truth, and to those generous Defenders of the Mind against the Efforts of the Body, who know how to distinguish the Responses of illuminating Wisdom, from the confus'd Noise of the perplexing, and erroneous Imagination.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Fifth CHAPTER of the Second BOOK. Of the Memory, and Spiritual Habits.

I Had no mind to speak in this Chapter of the Memory, and spiritual Habits, for several Reasons; the chief of which is, That we have no clear Idea of our Soul. For how can we clearly explain what are the Dispositions which the Operations of the Soul leave in her; (which Dispositions are her Habits) whilst we have no clear Knowledge of the Nature of our Soul? 'Tis plain that 'tis impossible to know distinctly the Changes, whereof a Being is capable, when we have no distinct Knowledge of the Nature of that Being. For if, for Instance, we had no clear Idea of Extension, in vain should we endeavour to discover its Figures. However, since I am desir'd to speak of a Matter which I know not in it self; see what a compass I fetch, that I may only keep to clear Idea's.

I suppose that there's none but God who acts upon the Mind, and represents to it the Idea's of all things; and that if the Mind perceive any Object by a very clear and distinct Idea, 'tis because God represents that Idea in a most perfect manner.

I farther suppose, that the Will of God being entirely conformable to ORDER, and Justice, we need but to have a Right to any thing, to obtain it. The Suppositions being laid down, which are easily conceiv'd, the Spiritual Memory is readily explain'd. For Order requiring, that Spirits, which have frequently thought of any Object, should more easily think again upon it, and have a more clear and lively Idea of it, that those who have but seldom consider'd it; The Will of God, which continually operates by Order, represents to their Understanding, as often as desir'd, the clear and lively Idea of that Object. So that according to this Explication, the Memory, and other Habits of pure Intelligences, consists not in an Easiness of operating, which results from any Modifications of their Being; but in the immutable Order of God, and in a Right the Mind obtains to those things, which have been already submitted to it. And all the Power of the Mind immediately and [Page] solely depends on God alone; the force or facility of acting, which all Creatures have in their Operations, being in this Sence but the efficacious Will of the Creatour.

Nor do I think we are oblig'd to give up this Explication, by reason of the evil Habits of Sinners▪ and damn'd Persons. For tho' God does all that is Real, and Positive in the Actions of Sinners, it is evident, by what I have said in the first Illustration, that he is not the Author of Sin.

Nevertheless I believe, as I think I ought, that after the Action of the Soul, there remain some Changes which dispose it to that same Action again. But as I know them not, so I cannot explain them; for I have no clear Idea of my own Mind, wherein to discover all the Modifications it is capable of. I believe by Theological, and not clear and evident Proofs;See the Illustration upon the 7th Chap. of Part II. Book III. that the Reason of pure Intelligences seeing the Objects they have before consider'd, more distinctly than others, is not meerly because God represents them in a livelier and perfecter manner; but because they are really more dispos'd to receive the same Action of God in them. Just as the facility of playing on an Organ, which some have acquir'd, proceeds not from any greater Force and Action, which the Animal Spirits (that are necessary to the Motion of the Fingers) have in them, than in other Men: but from the Smoothness, and Glibness which the Passages of the Animal Spirits have gotten by Exercise, as in this Chapter is explain'd: But yet I grant the Use of Memory, and the other Habits is unnecessary in those, who being perfectly united to God, find in his Light, all sorts of Idea's; and in his Will, all the facility of acting that can be desired.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Seventh CHAPTER of the Second BOOK. A Reduction of the Proofs and Explications I have given of Original Sin: Together with the Answer to the Objections, that I thought most urgent.

IN order to answer methodically to the Difficulties that may arise, touching Original Sin, and its manner of Derivation from Fathers to Children; I thought fit to exhibit in few words, what I have said on that Subject, in several places of the foregoing Treatise. Here follow my principal Proofs, which I have disposed after a particular fashion, to make them more sensible to those that will consider them.

I.

God wills Order in his Works. What we clearly conceive to be agreeable to Order, God wills; and what we conceive clearly to be repugnant to It, God wills not: which is a Truth, manifest to all those who can consider the infinitely perfect Being, with a steady and clear'd View. Nothing can unfix, or trouble their prospect of this Truth; whilst they clearly see, that all the Difficulties that can be raised against this Principle, proceed but from the Ignorance of those things which are necessary to be known to solve them.

II.

God has no other End in his Operations, than himself; this Order demands.

III.

God creates, and preserves the Mind of Man to be taken up with him, to know and to love him; as being himself the End of his own Works; Order will have it so. God cannot will, that a Being should love what is not amiable; or rather, He cannot will, that what is less amiable, should be more beloved. Therefore 'tis evident that Nature is corrupted, and in Disorder, since the Mind loves Bodies that are not amiable, and that commonly more than God. Original Sin, then, or the Corruption of Nature, needs no Proof: For every one finds plain enough in himself a Law, which captivates and disorders him; a Law that is not given by God, since it is contrary to Order, by which His Will is governed.

IV.

Nevertheless Man before his Fall, was admonished by preventing Sensations; and not by clear Knowledge, whether he ought to unite to, or separate from the encompassing Bodies; Order required it. 'Tis a Disorder, that the Mind should be oblig'd to apply it self to them: for though it may be united to them, it is not made for them. It ought therefore to have Knowledge of God, and Sense of Bodies. Again; whereas Bodies are incapable of being the Good of the Mind, it would with Regret and Pain, unite to them, if it knew them to be only what they are, without being sensible of something in them, which is not. Wherefore the Counterfeit Good ought to be discerned by a preventing Sensation, that it may be lov'd with a Love of Instinct; and the True Good ought to be known by a clear Knowledge, that it may be lov'd with a rational Love, and a Love of Choice. Lastly, Man being made, and preserved by God, to know, and love him; ought not to [Page] have the Capacity of his Mind either possess'd, or shar'd in spight of him, with the Knowledge of the infinite Figures, and Configurations of Bodies about him, or of that he animates; and yet to know by a clear Knowledge, Whether such a Fruit, at such a Season, be fit for Nourishment of his Body, manifestly requires the Intelligence of so many things, and the making so many Argumentations, as would quite fill up the most comprehensive of created Minds.

V.

But though the first Man was advertis'd by preventing Sensations, Whether he ought, or ought not to make use of surrounding Bodies, yet he was not mov'd by involuntary, and rebellious Passions; and he obliterated out of his Mind the Idea's of sensible things, when he pleas'd, whether he us'd them or not; because Order would have it so. The Mind may be united to a Body, but it should command it, and not depend on it. Again, All the Love which God invests us with, ought to terminate on him, because he produces nothing in us but what is for himself. Lastly, Bodies are not amiable; but below what within us is capable of loving. Therefore in the first Institution of Nature, Bodies could not turn our Mind towards them, nor incline it to consider them, and love them, as its Goods.

VI.

The Bodies about us act not on our Soul, save when they produce some Motions in our Body, and that these Motions are communicated to the principal Part of our Brain. For it is by the Changes which happen in this Part, that the Soul changes her self, and finds her self mov'd by sensible Objects. This I have sufficiently prov'd, and Experience demonstrates the same. Which being suppos'd, it is clear, from the preceding Article, that Adam stopt when he pleas'd, the Motions communicated to his Body, at least those communicated to the principal part of his Brain: Order will'd it so; and consequently He whose Will always conforms to Order, and who can do nothing against It though He be Almighty. Thus Man might, on certain Occasions, suspend the Natural Law of the Communication of Motions, seeing he was not tainted with Concupisence, nor did he feel in himself any involuntary and rebellious Motions.

VII.

But Adam lost that Power by sinning; Order would have it so: for it is not reasonable, that in Favour of a Sinner, and a Rebel, there should be any other Exceptions, to the general Law of the Communication of Motions, than what are absolutely necessary to the Preservation of our Life and Civil Society. Therefore the Body of Man being continually shaken, by the Action of sensible Objects, and his Soul agitated by all the Concussions of the principal part of his Brain, he is become a dependent on the Body, to which he was only united, and over which he had a Sovereignty before his Fall.

VIII.

Let us see now how the first Man was capable of sinning. It is natural to love Pleasure, and to tast it; and this was not forbidden Adam. The Case is the same with Joy: one may rejoice at the sight of his Natural Perfections; That is not evil in it self. Man was made to be happy, and 'tis Pleasure and Joy which actually beatifie and content: Adam therefore tasted Pleasure in the use of sensible Goods; and he felt a Joy upon viewing his own Perfections: For 'tis impossible to consider ones self, as happy, or perfect, and not be possess'd with it. He felt no such Pleasure in his Duty; for though he knew God was his Good, it was not in a sensible way; as I have prov'd in several places. So the Joy he might find in his Duty, was not very sensible; which being suppos'd, we conclude, That whereas the first Man had not an infinite Capacity of Mind, his Pleasure, or his Joy weakned its clear sight, which gave him to know, That God was his Good, and that he ought only to love him. For Pleasure is in the Soul, and the Modification of it; and therefore fills up our Capacity of Thought, proportionably as it affect and works on us: this is a thing which we learn by Experience, or rather from that inward Sensation we have of our selves. We may then conceive, That the first Man having insensibly suffer'd the Capacity of his Mind, to be possess'd, or divided, by the lively Sense of a presumptuous Joy, or, it may be, some Love, or sensible Pleasure; the Presence of God, and the Consideration of his Duty were eras'd from his Mind, for neglecting couragiously to pursue his Light in the Search of his True Good: so this Distraction made him capable of falling. For his principal Grace and strength was his Light, and the clear Knowledge of his Duty; forasmuch as then he had no need of preventing Delights, which are now necessary to oppose to Concupisence.

IX.

And it must be observ'd, that neither the preventing Sense of Pleasure, which Adam felt in the use of the Goods of the Body, nor the Joy that possess'd him, when reflecting on his own Happiness or Perfection, was the true Cause of his Fall; for he knew very well, that none but God could give him that Sense of Pleasure or Joy: and so he in Duty should have lov'd him only, forasmuch as none merits our Love, save the true Cause of our Felicity. As nothing perturbated his Knowledge and Light, whilst he strove to keep it pure and incorrupt; so he might, and ought to have expung'd from his Mind, those Sensations which divided it, and which endanger'd its falling off, and losing sight of him, who strengthened, and enlightned it. He ought to have well remembred, that if God offer'd himself not to his Sense, but only his Vnderstanding, as his Good, it was to afford him a readier way to merit his Reward, by a continual Exercise of his Liberty.

Supposing then, That Adam and Eve have sinn'd, and consequently thereupon felt in themselves [Page] involuntary and rebellio [...]s Motions; I say, That their Children must needs be born Sinners, and subject, as they were, to Motions of Concupiscence. See my Reasons for it.

X.

I have prov'd at large, in the Chapter that occasion'd this Discourse, that there is such a Communication between the Brain of the Mother, and that of the Child, that all the Motions and Traces excited in the former, are stirr'd up in the latter. Therefore as the Soul of the Infant is united to its Body, at the very instant of its Creation, it being the Conformation of the Body, which obliges God, in consequence of his general Will, to inform it with a Soul; 'tis plain, that at the very moment of this Soul's Creation, it has corrupt Inclinations, and turns towards the Body: since it has, from that same moment, [...]nclinations answerable to the Motions that are actually in the Brain it is united to.

XI.

But because it is a Disorder, That the Mind should propend to Bodies, and expend its Love upon them; the Infant is a Sinner, and in Disorder, as soon as out of the Hands of his Maker. God, who is the Lover of Order, hates him in this Estate; notwithstanding his Sin is not free and eligible. But his Mother conceiv'd him in Iniquity, because of the Communication establish'd by the Order of Nature, betwixt her Brain, and the Brain of her Infant.

XII.

Now this Communication is very good in its Institution, for several Reasons. First, Because useful, and it may be, necessary to the Conformation of the Foetus. Secondly, Because the Infant, by this means, might have some Intercourse with his Parents; it being but reasonable, that he should know, to whom he was oblig'd for his Body, which he animated. Lastly, He could not, but by help of this Communication, know external Occurrences, and think of them, as he should do. Having a Body, 'twas fit he should have Thoughts relating to it, and not be hood-wink'd to the Works of God, amongst which he liv'd. There are, likely, many other Reasons for this Communication than those I have given; but these are sufficient to justifie it, and to cover His Conduct from Censure and Reproach, every Will of whom is necessarily conformable to ORDER.

XIII.

However, there is no Reason, that the Infant, in spight of his Will, should receive the Traces of sensible Objects. If the Souls of Children were created but one moment before they were united to their Bodies; if they were but an instant in a State of Innocence and Order; they would have plenary Right and Power, from the necessity of Order, or of the Eternal Law, to suspend that Communication: just as the first Man, before his Sin, stopt when he pleas'd the Motions which arose in him; Order requiring, That the Body should be obedient to the Mind. But whereas the Souls of Children were never well-pleasing to God; it was never reasonable, that God on their behalf should dispence with the Law of the Communication of Motions; and so it is just that Infants should be born Sinners, and in Disorder. And the Order of Nature, which is just, and equitable, was not the Cause of their Sin; but the Sin of their Progenitors. In which sence it is not just and reasonable, that a sinful Father should procreate Children perfecter than himself, or that they should have a Dominion over their Bodies, which their Mother has not over her own.

XIV.

'Tis true, That after the Sin of Adam, which ruin'd and corrupted all things, God might by changing something in the Order of Nature, have remedied the Disorder which that Sin had caus'd. But God changes not his Will in that manner: He wills nothing but what is just, and what He once wills, He ever wills. He never corrects himself, nor repents of what he does; but his Will is constant and immutable. His Eternal Decrees depends not on the inconstant Will of Man, nor is it just they should be submitted to it.

XV.

But if it may be permitted to dive into the Councels of the Almighty, and to speak our Thoughts upon the Motives, which might determine him to establish the Order now explain'd, and permit the Sin of Adam; I can't see how we can conceive a Notion more worthy the Greatness of God, and more consonant to Reason and Religion, than to believe his principal Design in his External Operations, was the Incarnation of his SON, That God establish'd the Order of Nature, See the 5. Dialogue of Christian Conversation. Aug. in Jul. lib. 6. cap. 3. and permitted the Disorder which befel it, to help forward his Great Work; that He permitted all Men to be subject to Sin, that none might glory in himself; and suffer'd Concupiscence in the Perfectest, and Holiest of Men, lest they should take a vain Complacency in their own Persons. For upon considering the Perfection of one's Being, 'tis difficult to despise it, unless, at the same time, we contemplate, and love the Supreme Good; before whom all our Perfection and Greatness dissolves, and falls to nothing.

I own, That Concupiscence may be the occasion of our Merit, and that 'tis most just the Mind should for a Season follow Order with Pain and Difficulty, that it may merit to be eternally subject to it with Ease and Pleasure. I grant, That upon that Prospect God might have permitted Concupiscence, when he foresaw the Sin. But Concupiscence not being absolutely necessary to our Meriting, if God permitted it, it was, That Man might be able to do no good, without the Aids which JESUS CHRIST has merited for him: and that he might not glory in his own strength. For 'tis visible, That a Man cannot encounter and conquer himself, unless animated by the Spirit [Page] of Christ, who, as Head of the Faithful, inspires them with quite opposite Sentiments to those of Concupiscence, deriv'd to them from the Original Man.

XVI.

Supposing then, That Infants are born with Concupiscence, 'tis plain they are effectively Sinners, since their Heart is set upon Bodies as much as it is capable: there is as yet in their Will but one Love, and that disorder'd and corrupt; and so they have nothing in them that can be the Object of the Love of God, because he cannot love Disorder.

XVII.

But when they have been regenerated in JESUS CHRIST, that is, when their Heart has been converted to God, either by an actual Motion of Love, or by an internal Disposition, like that which remains after an Act of Loving God: then Concupiscence is no more a Sin in them, because it does not solely possess the Heart, nor domineer any longer in it. Habitual Love, which remain [...] in them, through the Grace of Baptism in our LORD, is more free, or more strong than that which is in them through the Contagion of Concupiscence deriv'd from Adam. They are like the Just, who in their Sleep obey the Motions of Concupiscence, yet lose not the Grace of their Baptism, because their Consent to these Motions is involuntary.

XVIII.

It should not be thought strange, That I believe it possible for Children to love God with a Love of Choice, at the time of their Baptism. For since the Second Adam is contrary to the First, why should he not, at the time of Regeneration, deliver Children from the Servitude of their Body, whereunto they are subjected by the First? That being enlightned and quickned by a lively and efficacious Grace, to the loving of God, they may love him with a free and rational Love, without being obstructed by the first Adam. You say, it is not observable, that their Body for a moment leaves acting on the Mind: But is that such a Wonder, that we can't see what is not visible? One single Instant is sufficient for the Exercise of that Act of Love: And as it may be perform'd in the Soul, without imprinting any Footsteps in the Brain, 'tis no more to be admir'd, that the Adult in their Baptism do not always mind it; for we have no Memory of things which are not registred in the Traces of the Brain.

XIX.

St. Paul teaches us, That the Old Man, or Concupiscence, is crucify'd with JESUS CHRIST, and that we are dead and buried with him by Baptism. What means this, but that then we are deliver'd from the Warring of the Body against the Mind, and that Concupiscence is as it were Mortify'd in that moment: 'Tis true it revives; but having been destroy'd, and thereby left Children in a State of loving God, it can do them no harm by its reviving. For when there are two Loves in the Heart, a Natural, and a Free, Order will, that the Free be only respected. But if Infants in Baptism lov'd God by an Act in no wise free, and afterwards lov'd Bodies by many Acts of the same Species; God could not perhaps, according to Order, have more respect to one single Act, than to many, which were all natural, and without Liberty. Or rather, if their contrary Love [...] were equal in force, he must have respect to that which was last; by the same Reason, that when there has been successively in an Heart Two Free-Loves contrary to each other, God has always respect to the Last, since Grace is destroy'd by any one Mortal Sin.

XX.

Nevertheless, it cannot be deny'd, but God may justifie the Infant, without interrupting the Dominion of his Body over his Mind; or convert his Will towards him, by depositing in his Soul a Disposition like that, which remains after an Actual Motion of our Loving God. But that way of acting, I doubt, seems less Natural than the Other; for it cannot clearly be conceiv'd what these remaining Dispositions can be. 'Tis true, that ought not to be much admir'd; since having no clear Idea of our Soul,See Ch. 7. Part II. of Book II. with its Illustration. as I have elsewhere prov'd, we need not wonder if we know not all the Modifications it is capable of. But the Mind cannot be fully satisfied upon things, which it does not clearly conceive; and without recourse to an extraordinary Miracle, we cannot see what can give the Soul these Dispositions, without a preceding Act: surely it cannot be done by ways that seem most plain and simple. Whereas the second Adam acting on the baptiz'd Infant's Mind for one moment, the contrary to what the first Adam produc'd in it before, Regeneration is perform'd by the usual ways of acting which God takes in his sanctifying the Adult: For the Infant, at that moment, being void of Sensations and Passions, which divide its Thinking and Willing Capacity, has nothing to encumber it, and prevent its knowing and loving its true Good. This is all I say at present, because it is not necessary to know precisely, how Regeneration of Infants is perform'd; provided we admit in them a true Regeneration, or an inward and real Justification, caus'd by Acts, or at least by Habits of Faith, Hope, and Charity. My offering an Explication, so repugnant to Prejudices, is design'd for the Satisfaction of those, who will not allow of Spiritual Habits, and to prove to them the Possibility of the Regeneration of Infants: For the Notion of Imputation seems to me to include a manifest Contradiction; it being impossible, That God should consider his Creatures as Righteous, and actually love them, whilst they are actually in Disorder and Corruption. Though he may for his SON's sake have a Design to re-instate them in ORDER, and love them when re-instated.

OBJECTIONS Against the Proofs and Explications of Original Sin.

OBJECTION against the first Article.

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GOD wills Order, it is true; but 'tis his Will that makes it: it does not suppose it: Whatever God wills is in Order purely for this Reason that God wills it:At every Objection turn to the Article it is made against. If God wills that Minds should be subject to Bodies, should love and fear them, there is no disorder in all this. If God will'd that two times two should not be four, we should not speak false, in saying two times two were not four: For it would be a Truth. God is the Principle of all Truth: and the Master of all Order: he supposes nothing; neither Truth, nor Order: but makes all.

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ANSWER.

Then all is thrown in Confusion. There is no longer any Science nor Morality, nor undeniable Proofs of our Religion. Which consequence is evident to any Man who clearly comprehends this false Principle; That God produces Order and Truth by a Will absolutely Free. But this is not to answer it.

I Answer then that God can neither do nor will any thing without knowledge; that therefore his Will supposes something; but what it supposes is nothing of a created nature, Order, Truth, Eternal Wisdom, is the Exemplar of all the Works of God: which Wisdom is not made; God who makes all things never made it, though he constantly begets it by the necessity of his Being.

Whatever God wills is in Order, for that sole reason, that he wills it: No body denies it. But this is because God cannot act against himself, that is, his Wisdom and his Knowledge. He is at liberty not to produce any External Work: but supposing he will act; he cannot act otherways than by the immutable order of his Wisdom, which he necessarily Loves. For Religion and Reason teach me that he works nothing without his SON, without his WORD, without his WISDOM. Therefore I fear not to affirm, that God cannot positively will that the mind should be subject to the Body. Because that Wisdom, whereby God wills, whatever he wills, makes me clearly understand it is contrary to Order: And I see this clearly in that same Wisdom; because it is the Soveraign and Universal Reason, which is participated by all Spirits, for which all Intelligences are created, and by which all Men are Reasonable. For no Man is his own Reason, Light, and Wisdom; unless it be when his Reason is Particular, his Light, an Ignis fatuus, and his Wisdom Folly.

As the Generality of Men know not distinctly that it is only Eternal Wisdom which enlightens them; and that Intelligible Ideas which are the Immediate object of their Mind, are not created; so they imagine, that Eternal Laws and Immutable Truths, receive their Establishment from a free will of God. And this is what occasion'd M. des Cartes to say, that God was able to effect that twice four should not be eight; and that the three Angles of a Triangle should not be equal to two Rights. Because there is no Order, says he, no Law, no Reason, Goodness or Truth, but depends on God, and that is he who from all Eternity, has ordain'd and establish'd, as supreme Legislator, Eternal Truths. Answer to the sixth Objection against his Meditations. Art. 6. Art. 8. This Learned Man did not observe that there was an Order, a Law, a Sovereign Reason Coeternal with God, and necessarily lov'd by him, and accordingly to which he must necessarily act, supposing he will act. For God is indifferent as to his External Workings, but the manner of his working, though he be perfectly free, is not indifferent to him. He always acts in the wisest and perfectest manner possible: he constantly follows immutable, and necessary Order. Thus God is at liberty not to make either Spirits, or Bodies, but if he creates these two Kinds of Beings,See the Illustration upon the 6th Chap. of Part II. Book III. he must create them by the simplest ways, and situate them in the most perfect Order. He may for Example unite Spirits to Bodies, but I maintain that he cannot subject them thereunto, unless in pursuance of the Order which he always follows, the Sin of Spirits obliges him to use them in that manner: as I have already explain'd in the seventh Article, and in the first Explication towards the end.

To anticipate some instances that might be urg'd against me, I think it necessary to say that Men are to blame to consult themselves when they would know what God can do or will. They are not to judge of his wills by the inward sense they have of their own Inclinations. For otherwise they would often make him an unjust, cruel, sinful, instead of an Almighty God. They ought to lay aside the general Principle of their Prejudices, which disposes them to judge of all things with reference to themselves, and not to attribute to God what they do not clearly conceive to be included in the Idea of a Being infinitely perfect. For they ought not to judge of things save by clear Ideas. And [Page] then the God they worship, will not be like those of Antiquity, Cruel, Adulterous, Voluptious, as the Persons who have imagin'd them: nor will he resemble the God of some Christians, who to make him as powerful as the Sinner wishes him, ascribe to him an actual power of acting against all Order, of leaving Sin unpunisht, and of condemning to eternal Torments Persons never so righteous and Innocent.

Second OBJECTION against the First Article.

If God wills Order, what is it that makes Monsters, I say not amongst Men; for they have sinned, but amongst Animals and Plants? What is the cause of the general corruption of the Air which breeds so many Diseases? By what Order is it that the Seasons are so irregular, and that the Sun and the Frost burn up and kill the Fruits of the Earth? Is it to act with Wisdom and Order, to furnis [...] an Animal with parts quite useless, and to congeal the Fruits after they are perfectly formed? Is not this rather because God does what he pleases, and that his power supersedes all Order and Rule? For to mention things of greater Importance than the Fruits of the Earth, wherewith he may do as he sees good: the Clay whereof God makes Vessels of wrath, is the same with that which he fashions Vessels of Mercy:

ANSWER.

These are the difficulties which serve only to obscure the Truth, as proceeding from the darkness of the Mind. We know that God is just: we see that the wicked are Happy: ought we to deny what wee see; ought we to doubt of what we know, because we may possibly be so stupid as not to know, and so Libertine as not to believe what Religion teaches us of future Torments? So we know that God is Wise; and all that he does is Good; mean while we see Monsters, or defective Works. What are we to believe that God is out of his aim, or that these Monsters are not his handiwork? Certainly if we have sence and constancy of Mind, we shall believe neither the one nor the other. For 'tis manifest that God does all, and that whatever he does is as perfect as possible, with relation to the simplicity and fewness of the means he imploys, in the Formation of his Work. We must hold fast to what we see, and not quit our ground for any difficulties impossible to be resolv'd; when our Ignorance is the cause of that Impossibility. If Ignorance must raise Difficulties, and such like Difficulties overthrow the best establisht Opinions, what will remain certain among Men who know not all things? What? Shall not the brightest Lights be able to disperse the least Darkness; and shall any little shadow Eclipse the clearest and the liveliest Light?

But though the answering such sort of Difficulties might be dispenc'd with, without Prejudice to the fore-establis [...]t Principle; yet it is not amiss to show they are not unanswerable. For the Mind of Man is so unjust in its Judgments, that it may possibly prefer the Opinions which seem to result from these imaginary Difficulties, before certain Truths, which no Man can doubt of, but because he will; and with that design ceases to examine them. I say then that God wills order, though there are Monsters; and 'tis moreover because God wills order, that there are Monsters; and this is my reason.

Order requires that the Laws of nature whereby God produces that infinite Variety, so conspicuous in the World, should be very simple, and very few in number. Now 'tis the simplicity of these general Laws, which in some particular Junctures, and because of the Disposition of the subject, produces irregular Motions, or rather Monstrous Combinations: and consequently God's willing order is the cause of these Monsters. Thus God does not positively or directly will the Existence of Monsters: but he positively wills certain Laws of the Communication of Motions, whereof Monsters are the necessary consequences; because these Laws, though of a most simple kind, are nevertheless capable of producing that variety of forms which can't be sufficiently admired.

For Example: In consequence of the general Laws of the Communication of Motions, there are some Bodies which are driven near the Centre of the Earth. The Body of a Man, or an Animal is one of these: that which upholds him in the Air breaks under his Feet: is it just, or according to Order, that God should change his general Will, for that particular Case? Surely it seems not probable. That Animal therefore must necessarily break, or maim its Body. And thus we ought to argue about the generation of Monsters.

ORDER requires that all Beings should have what's necessary to their Preservation, and the Propagation of the Species; provided this may be done by most simple Means, and worthy the Wisdom of God. And so we see that Animals, as also Plants have general Means to preserve themselves, and to continue their Species: and if some Animals fail thereof, in some particular Occasions, 'tis because these general Laws, whereby they were form'd, reach not these private Emergencies, because they respect not Animals separately, but generally extend to all Beings; and that the Good of the Publick must be preferr'd before Particular Advantages.

'Tis evident, That if God made but one Animal, it would not be Monstrous: But Order would require, That he should not make that Animal by the same Laws that he at present forms all others; for the Action of God must be proportion'd to his Design. By the Laws of Nature he designs not the making one Animal, but a whole World; and he must make it by the simpliest Means, as Order requires. 'Tis enough then that the World be not monstrous, or that the general Effects be suitable to the general Laws, to vindicate the Work of God from Censure and Reproach.

[Page]If, for all particular Changes, God had instituted so many particular Laws; or if He had constituted in every Being a particular Nature or Principle, of all the Motions that arrive in it; I confess it would be hard to ju [...]tifie his Wisdom against so visible Disorders. We should perhaps be forc'd to confess, either that God wills not Order, or that he knows not how, or is not able to rectifie Disorder. For, in short, it seems to me impossible to ascribe an almost infinite Number of second Causes, of natural Forces, Vertues, Qualities and Faculties, to what we call the Sports and Disorders of Nature, with a Salvo to the infinite Power and Wisdom of the Author of all things.

OBJECTION against the Second Article.

GOD can never act for Himself. A wise Being will do nothing useless; but whatever God should do for himself, would be useless; because he wants nothing. God wills nothing for himself, if by the Necessity of his Essence he has all the Perfection he can desire. And if God desires nothing for himself, he works nothing for himself, since he works only by the Efficacy of his Will. The Nature of Good, is to be communicative and diffusive; 'tis to be useful to others, and not to it self; 'tis to seek out; 'tis, if it be possible, to create Persons whom it may make happy. Therefore it is a Contradiction, for God, who is essentially and supremely good, to act for himself.

ANSWER.

GOD may be said to act for himself two ways; either with intent to derive some Advantage from what he does; or to the end, his Creature may find its Happiness and Perfection in him. I enquire not, at present, whether God acts for himself, in the first sense; and whether to receive an Honour worthy of himself, he has made, and restor'd all things by his SON, in whom, according to the Scripture, all things subsist. I only assert, that God cannot create, and preserve Spirits, in order to know, and love created Beings. 'Tis an Immutable, Eternal, and necessary Law. That they should know, and love God; as I have explain'd in the Third Article. Thus this Objection does not impugn my Principle, but, on the contrary, corroborates it: and if it be certain, that 'tis the Nature of Good to disseminate, and communicate it self abroad, (for I stand not to examine that Axiome) 'tis evident, That God being essentially and supreamly Good, it is no Contradiction he should act in the Sence I intended.

OBJECTION against the Fourth Article.

Ignorance being a Consequence of Sin, Adam before his Fall had a perfect Knowledge of the Nature of his own Body, and of those he liv'd amongst: He must, for Example, have been perfectly acquainted with the Nature of all Animals, to give them, as he did, such Names as agreed to them.

ANSWER.

'Tis a Mistake: Ignorance is neither an Evil, nor a Consequence of Sin. 'Tis Errour or Blindness of Mind, which is both one, and the other. None but God knows all things without any Shadow of Ignorance; Ignorance is incident to the brightest, and most enlightned Intelligences. Whatever is finite cannot comprehend Infinity: and thus there is no Spirit that can comprehend only all the Properties of Triangles; Adam knew, the first minute of his Creation, whatever was requisite he should know, and nothing more; and it was to no purpose for him to know exactly the Disposition of all the Parts of his Body, and of those he made use of: the Reasons are to be seen in this Article, and elsewhere.

The Imposition of Names, in Scripture,And calls them all by their names Ps. 47. rather denotes the Authority than the perfect Knowledge of the Imposer. As the Lord of Heaven had made Adam the Lord of Earth, he conceded him the Privilege of giving Names to the Animals, as he himself had done to the Stars. 'Tis evident, That Sounds, or Words, neither have, nor can have any natural relation to the things they signifie; let the Divine Plato, and the Mysterious Pythagoras say what they please of it. One might perhaps explain the Nature of an Horse, or an Oxe, in an entire Book, but a Word is not a Book: and it's ridiculous to imagine, That Monosyllables, as Sus, which in Hebrew signifies a Horse, and S [...]bor, which signifies an Oxe, should represent the Nature of these Animals. Notwithstanding there is great probability these Names were impos'd by Adam, since they are found in Genesis:Chap. 1.19. the Author whereof assures us, That the Names which Adam gave the Creatures were the same which were in use in his time; for I cannot see what else can be meant by these Words, Omne quod vocavit Adam animae viventis, ipsum est nomen ejus. And whatsoever Adam call'd every living Creature, that was the Name thereof

But I grant that Adam gave Names to Animals, which have some reference to their Nature, and I subscribe to the Learned Etymologies that an Author of this Age gives us of them. I will that he call'd domestick Animals Behemoth, because of their keeping silence; the Ram Ajil, because he is strong; the Buck Sair, because swift; the Hog Chazir, because of his little Eyes; the Ass Chamor, [Page] because in the East Country red Asses are common. But I can't conceive that any more is requisite, than to open the Eyes to know if a Buck be swift, an Ass red, and whether a Hog has little or great Eyes. Adam calls by the Name of Beir and Behemah, what we term a Brute, or a great domestick Creature, because these Beasts are mute and stupid. What should we thence conclude? That he knew perfectly their Nature? That is not evident: I should rather be apprehensive, lest it should be thence concluded, That Adam, being simple enough to put a Question to an Oxe, as being the largest of domestick Animals, and wondring that he could not answer him, despis'd him, and nam'd by a Term of Contempt, Beir and Behemah.

Second OBJECTION against the Fourth Article.

Some preventing Sensations are incommodious and painful: Adam was just and innocent, and consequently ought not to feel the smart of them. He ought then on all occasions to be guided by Reason and Knowledge, and not by preventing Sensations, like those we have at present.

ANSWER.

I confess there are preventing Sensations, which are disagreeable and painful, but they never occasion'd any Pain in the first Man; because in the instant they gave him any, he, by an Act of his Will, withstood the Impression, and, in the very instant of that Volition, he ceas'd to be touch'd with it. These Sensations did only respectfully caution him what ought to be done, or omitted; and did not incommode his Felicity: They but made him sensible that he was capable of losing it; and that he who made him Happy, could punish and make him miserable, if he fail'd in his Fidelity.

But to perswade our selves, that the first Man was never overtaken with the Sense of any lively Pain, we need but consider these two things. First, that Pain is very light, when the Motions it is annex'd to are very languid; because it is always proportion'd to the force of the Motions, that are communicated to the chief part of the Brain. Secondly, That is of the Nature of Motion, to include a Succession of Time; and it cannot be violent at the first instant of its Communication. Which being suppos'd, it is plain, that the first Man never felt a violent surprizing Pain, that was capable to make him miserable; because he could put a stop to the Motions that caus'd it. But if so be, he could effectually stop them, at the first instant of their Action, there is no doubt but he would do it, since he was always desirous of Happiness; and that Aversion is naturally conjoin'd to the Sense of Pain.

Adam therefore never suffer'd any violent Pain; but I think we are not oblig'd to say, that he never felt any light and inconsiderable smart, such as is that when we tast a sowre Fruit, supposing it to be ripe. His Felicity had been very tender, if so little a thing had been able to disturb it. For such Delicacy is a sign of Weakness: for how can that Joy and Pleasure be substantial, that such a Trifle can dissolve and annihilate? Pain never truly molests our Happiness but when it is involuntary, and possesses us in spight of our Resistance. JESUS CHRIST was happy, though on the Cross, in the midst of his Groans, and Agonies, because he suffered nothing, but what he was willing to undergo. Thus Adam suffering nothing against his will, it cannot be said we make him unhappy before his Sin, in supposing him admonish'd by preventing, but respectful, and submissive Sensations, of what he ought to avoid, for the preservation of his Life.

OBJECTION against the Fifth Article.

Adam felt preventing Pleasures: But these are involuntary Motions; Therefore Adam was agitated with involuntary Motions.

ANSWER.

I Answer that Adam's Sensations preceded his Reason, the proofs I have shown for it in the Fourth Article. But I deny that they preceded his Will; or that they stirr'd up in it any particular Motions. For Adam was willingly admonish'd by these Sensations, what he ought to do for the preservation of his Life: But he was never willing to be perturbated by them in spight of his VVill. For that's a Contradiction. Moreover, when he desir'd to apply himself to the contemplation of Truth, without any distraction of Thought, his Senses and his Passions kept an intire Silence. Order would it should be so; for that's a necessary sequel of that absolute power he had over his Body.

See the Illustration upon the 3d Chap. Book V.I answer secondly, that it is not true, that the Pleasure of the Soul is the same thing with its Motion, and its Love. Pleasure and Love are modes of the Souls Existence. But Pleasure has no necessary relation to the object that seems to cause it; and Love is necessarily related unto Good. Pleasure is to the Soul what Figure is to Body: and Motion is to Body what Love is to the Soul. But the Motion of a Body is very different from its Figure. I grant that the Soul which has a constant Prope [...]sity to Good, advances, as I may say, more readily towards it, when instigated by a [Page] sense of Pleasure, that when discourag'd by her suffering Pain; as a Body when driven runs easier along if it have a Spherical, than if it have a Cubical Figure. But the figure of a Body differs from its Motion, and it may be Spherical, and yet remain at rest. 'Tis true in this case it goes not with Spirits as with Bodies; those cannot feel a Pleasure but they must be in motion: because God who only makes, and preserves them for himself, drives them perpetually on towards good. But that does not prove that the pleasure of the Soul, is the same thing as its Motion: For two things, though differing from each other, may yet be always found inseparably together.

I answer lastly, that although pleasure were not different from the Love or Motion of the Soul, yet that which the first Man felt in the use of the goods of the Body, did not incline him to the Loving Bodies. 'Tis true, Pleasure carries the Soul towards the object, that causes it in her. But it is not the Fruit that we eat with Pleasure, which causes the Pleasure in us. Not Bodies but God only can act upon the Soul, and in any manner make it happy. And we are in an Error to think that Bodies have in them, what we feel occasionally from their presence. Adam before his Sin, being not so stupid as to imagine, that Bodies were the causes of his Pleasures, was not carry'd to the love of them, by the motions that accompany'd his Pleasures. If pleasure contributed to the fall of the first Man, it was not by working in him what at present it does in us; But only by filling up or dividing his capacity of Thought, it effac'd or diminish'd in his Mind the presence of his true good, and of his Duty.

OBJECTION against the sixth Article.

What likelyhood is there that the immutable Will of God had a dependance on the will of Man, and that on Adam's behalf there were exceptions made to the general Law of the Communication of Motions.

ANSWER.

At least it is not evident but such exception might be made; now it is evident that immutable order requires the subjection of the Body to the Mind: and 'tis a contradiction for God not to love, and will order; In the Illustration about the nature of Ideas, I shall more particularly explain what is Order, and why God necessarily loves it. for God necessarily loves his Son. Therefore it was necessary before the Sin of the first Man, that exceptions should be made in his favour to the general Law of the Communication of Motions. This seems it may be of a too abstracted nature: Here then is somewhat of a more sensible kind.

Man though a Sinner has the power of moving and stopping his Arm when he pleases. Therefore according to the different Volitions of Man, the Animal Spirits are determin'd to the raising, or stopping some Motions in his Body; which certainly cannot be perform'd by the general Law of the Communication of Motions. If then the will of God be still submitted to our own: why might it not be submitted to the will of Adam? If for the good of the Body, and of civil Society, God stops the communication of motions in Sinners, why would he not do the like in favour of a Righteous Man, for the good of his Soul, and for the preservation of the Union and Society with his God for whom only he was made. As God will have no Society with Sinners, so after the Sin he depriv'd them of the power they had to sequester themselves, as it were, from the Body to unite themselves with him. But he has left them the Power of stopping or changing the communication of Motions, with reference to the preservation of Life, and of Civil Society. Because he was not willing to destroy his Work; having before the construction of it, decreed according to St. Paul, to re-establish and renew it in Jesus Christ.

OBJECTION against the Seventh Article.

Man in his present state conveys his Body all manner of ways: he moves at pleasure all the parts of it, which are necessary to be mov'd for the prosecution, and shunning of sensible good and evil: and consequently he stops or changes every moment the natural communication of motions, not only for trifles, and things of little importance, but also for things useless to Life and civil Society, and even for Crimes, which violate Society, shorten Life, and dishonour God all manner of ways. God wills order, it is true: But will order have the laws of motions violated for the sake of Evil, and kept inviolable on the account of Good. Why must Man lose the power of stopping the motions which sensible objects produce in his Body, since these Motions keep him from doing good, from repairing to God, and returning to his duty? and yet retain the power of doing so much evil, by his Tongue and his Arm, and other parts of his Body, whose motions depend upon his will?

ANSWER.

To the answering this Objection it must be consider'd, that Man having sin'd ought to have return'd to his Original nothing. For being no longer in Order, nor able to retrieve it, See the Fifth Dialogue of Christian Conversations. he ought [Page] to cease to Exist. God loves only order, the Sinner is not in order, and therefore not in the Love of God. The Sinner therefore cannot subsist, since the subsistence of Creatures depends on the will of the Creator; but he wills not that they should exist if he does not love them. The Sinner cannot by himself regain lost order, because he cannot justifie himself, and all that he can suffer cannot atone for his offence. He must then be reduc'd to nothing. But as it is unreasonable to think that God makes a Work to annihilate it, or to let it fall into a state worse than annihilation, 'tis evident that God would not have made Man, nor permitted his Sin, which he foresaw, unless he had had in view the Incarnation of his Son; in whom all things subsist, and by whom the Universe receives a Beauty, a Perfection, and greatness worthy of the Wisdom and the Power of its Author.

Man▪ then, may be consider'd after his Sin without a Restorer, but under the Expectation of one. In considering him without a Restorer, we plainly see he ought to have no Society with God; that that he is unable of himself to make the least approaches to him; that God must needs repel him, and severely use him, when he offers to leave the Body to unite himself to him: that is to say, that Man after the Sin must lose the power of getting clear of sensible impressions, and motions of concupiscence. He ought likewise to be annihilated, for the foremention'd Reasons. But he expects a Restorer, and if we consider him under that Expectation, we see clearly that he must subsist. He and his Posterity, whence his Restorer is to arise; and thus it is necessary that Man after his Sin preserve still the power of diversely moving all those parts of the Body, whose motion may be serviceable to his Preservation.

'Tis true that Men abuse daily the power they have of producing certain motions; and that their power of moving their tongue for Example, several ways, is the cause of innumerable Evils. But if it be minded, that power will appear absolutely necessary to keep up Society, to comfort one another in the Exigences of thi [...] present Life, and to instruct them in Religion, which affords hope of a Redeemer; for whom the World subsists. If we carefully examine what are the motions we produce in us, and in what parts of our Body we can affect them, we shall clearly see that God has left us the power of our Body no farther than is necessary to the preservation of Life, and the cherishing and upholding civil Society. For example, the Beating of the Heart, the Dilatation of the Midriff, the peristaltick motion of the Guts, the Circulation of the Spirits, and Blood, and the diverse motions of the Nerves in the Passions, are produc'd in us without staying for the order of the Soul. As they ought to be much what the same on all occasions, nothing obliges God to submit them now to the will of Man. But the motions of the Muscles imploy'd in stirring the Tongue, the Arms, and Legs, being to change every minute, according to the almost infinite diversity of good, or evil Objects all about us, it was necessary these motions should depend on the will of Men.

But we are to remember, That God acts always by the simplest ways: and that the Laws of Nature ought to be general; and that so, God having given us the power of moving our Arm and Tongue, he ought not to take away that of striking a Man unjustly, or of slandering or reproaching him. For if our natural Faculties depended on our Designs, there would be no Uniformity nor certain Rule in the Laws of Nature: which however must be most simple and general, to be answerable to the Wisdom of God, and suitable to Order. So that God, in pursuance of his Decrees, chuses rather to cause the Materiality of Sin, as say the Divines, or to make use of the Injustice of Men, as says one of the Prophets, than by changing his Will to put a stop to the Disorders of Sinners. But he defers his revenging the injurious Treatment, which they give him, till the time when it shall be permitted him to do it, without swerving from his immutable Decrees; that is to say, when Death having corrupted the Body of the voluptuous, God shall be freed from the necessity he has impos'd on himself, of giving them Sensations and Thoughts relating to it.

OBJECTION against the Eleventh and Twelfth Articles.

Original Sin not only enslaves Man to his Body, and subjects him to the Motions of Concupiscence, but likewise fills him with Vices wholly Spiritual: not only the Body of the Infant before Baptism being corrupted, but also his Soul, and all his Faculties stain'd and infected with Sin. Though the Rebellion of the Body be the principle of some grosser Vices, such as Intemperance and Vncleanness, yet it is not the Cause of Vices purely Spiritual, as are Pride and Envy. And therefore Original Sin is something very different from Concupiscence, which is born with us: and is more likely the Privation of Grace, or of Original Righteousness.

ANSWER.

I acknowledge, That Children are void of Original Righteousness; and I prove it, in shewing, That they are not born upright, and that God hates them. For methinks one cannot give a clearer Idea of Righteousness and Vprightness, than to say a Will is upright when it loves God, and that it is crooked and perverse when it draws towards Bodies. But if by Righteousness, or Original Grace, we understand some unknown Qualities, like those which God is said to have infus'd into the Heart of the first Man, to adorn him, and render him pleasing in his sight; it is still evident, that the Privation of this is not Original Sin; for to speak properly, that Privation is not hereditarily [Page] transmitted. If Children have not these Qualities, 'tis because God does not give 'em them; and if God does not bestow them, 'tis because they are unworthy to receive them: and 'tis that Vworthiness which is transmitted, and which is the Cause of the Privation of Original Righteousness: And so that Vnworthiness is properly Original Sin.

Now this Unworthiness, (which consists, as I have shewn, in this: That the Inclinations of Children are actually corrupt, and their Heart bent upon the Love of Bodies;) this, I say, is really in them. 'Tis not the Imputation of the Sin of their Father; they are actually themselves in a disorder'd State. In like manner as those who are justify'd by JESUS CHRIST, of whom Adam was the Type, are not justify'd by Imputation: But are really restor'd to Order, by an inward Righteousness, different from that of our LORD, though it be he that has merited it for them.

The Soul has but two natural or essential Relations; the one to God, and the other to her Body. Now 'tis evident, That the Relation, or Union which she has with God, cannot vitiate or corrupt her: and therefore she is neither vicious, nor corrupt, at the first instant of her Creation; but by the relation she has to her Body. Thus one of the two must needs be said, either that Pride, and other, which we call Spiritual Vices, can be communicated by the Body, or that Children are not subject to them at the moment of their Birth: I say at the moment of their Birth; for I do not deny but these ill Habits are easily acquir'd. Though pure Intelligences had no other relation than to God, and at the instant of their Creation were subject to no Vice, yet they fell into Disorder. But the Cause of it was their making a wrong use of their Liberty, whereof Infants have made no use at all: For Original Sin is not of a free Nature.

But to come to the Point; I am of Opinion, That they err, who think that the Rebellion of the Body is the Cause but of gross Vices, such as Intemperance and Vncleanness; and not of those which are call'd Spiritual, as Pride and Envy: and I am persuaded there is that Correspondence between the Disposition of our Brain, and those of our Soul, as that there is not perhaps any corrupt Habit in the Soul, but what has its Principle in the Body.

St. Paul in several places terms by the Name of the Law, the Wisdom, the Desires, and the Works of the Flesh; whatever is contrary to the Law of the Spirit. He speaks not of Spiritual Vices; He reckons amongst the Works of the Flesh, Idolatry, Heresies, Dissentions, and many other Vices which go by the Name of Spiritual. To give way to Vain-glory, Wrath and Envy is, in his Doctrine, to follow the Motions of the Flesh. In short, It appears from the Expressions of that Apostle, That all Sin proceeds from the Flesh: not that the Flesh commits it, or that the Spirit of Man, without the Grace, or Spirit of CHRIST, can do good: but because the Flesh acts upon the Spirit in such a manner, that the latter works no evil without being sollicited to it by the former. Hear what St. Paul says in the Epistle to the Romans, I delight in the law of the Lord, Rom. c. 7. after the inward Man. But I see another law in my members warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin, which is in my members. And a little lower; So then with my mind I my self serve the law of God, but with the flesh the law of sin: He speaks after the same manner in several places of his Epistles. So that Concupiscence, or the Rebellion of the Body, not only disposes us to Carnal of shameful Vices, but likewise to those which are thought to be Spiritual. I here shall endeavour to prove it by a sensible manner.

When a Man's in Conversation, it is certain, as I think, that some Tracks are machinally produc'd in his Brain, and Motions excited in his Animal Spirits, that beget in his Soul corrupt Thoughts and Inclinations. Our Thoughts on these Occasions are not naturally conformable to Truth, nor our Inclinations to Order, They rise in us for the Good of the Body, and of the present Life, because 'tis the Body that exites them: So they obliterate the Presence of God, and the Thoughts of our Duty out of our Mind; and tend only to recommend us to other Men, and make them consider us as worth their Affection and Esteem. Therefore this secret Pride, which kindles in us on such Occasions, is a Spiritual Vice, whose Principle is the Rebellion of the Body.

For Example; If the Persons, in whose Presence we are, are rais'd to Honorary Posts and Titles, the Lustre of their Grandeur both dazzles and dejects us. And as the Traces which their Presence imprints on our Brain are very deep, and the Motions of the Spirits rapid; they radiate, as I may say, through all the Body; they spread themselves on the Face, and give a sensible Testimony of our Reverence and Fear, and our most latent Sentiments. Next, These Traces, by the sensible Expressions of our inward Motions, work upon the Person that observe us; whom they dispose to Sentiments of Candour and Civility, by the Traces which our respectful and timorous Deportment machinally produce in his Brain: which Traces, rallying on his Face, and disarm him of that Majesty which appear'd in't, and give the rest of his Body such an Air and Posture, as at length rid us of our Concern, and re-embolden us. Thus by a mutual and frequent Repercussion of these sensible Expressions, our Air and Behaviour at last settles in that fashion which the governing Person wishes.

But as all the Motions of the Animal Spirits are attended with Motions of the Soul, and the Traces of the Brain are pursu'd by Thoughts of the Mind; 'tis plain, that since we are depriv'd of the Power of expunging these Traces, and stopping these Motions, we find our selves sollicited, by the over-ruling Presence of the Person, to embrace his Opinions, and submit to his Desires, and to be wholly devoted to his Pleasure, as he indeed is dispos'd to study ours, but in a very different manner. And for this Reason worldly Conversation quickens and invigorates the Concupiscence of Pride, as dishonest Commerce, feasting and enjoying sensible Pleasures, strengthen Carnal Concupiscence; which is a Remark very necessary for Morality.

'Tis of great Use and Advantage, that there are Traces in the Brain, which incessantly represent [Page] Man to himself, to make him careful of his Person: and that there are others, which serve to make and preserve Society, since Men are not made to live alone. But Man having lost the Power of erasing them when he pleas'd, and when convenient, they perpetually provoke him to Evil. As he cannot hinder their representing him to himself, he is continually sollicited to Motions of Pride and Vanity, to despise others, and center all things in himself. And as he is not Master of those Traces which importune him, to keep up Society with others, he is agitated by Motions of Complaisance, Flattery, Jealousie, and the like Inclinations, as it were in spight of him. Thus all those, which go by the Name of Spiritual Vices, derive from the Flesh; as well as Vnchastness and Intemperance.

There are not only in our Brain, Dispositions which excite in us Sensations and Motions, with reference to the Propagation of the Species, and the Preservation of Life; but it may be a greater Number that stir up in us Thoughts and Passions, with respect to Society, to our own private Advancements, and to those of our Friends. We are by Nature united to all surrounding Bodies, and by them, to all the things that any way relate to us: But we cannot be united to them, save by some Dispositions in our Brain. Having not therefore the Power of withstanding the Action of these natural Dispositions, our Union turns into Dependence, and we grow subject through our Body to all kind of Vices.

We are not pure Intelligences: all the Dispositions of our Soul produce respective Dispositions in our Body: and those in our Body mutually excite others like them in our Soul. Not that the Soul is absolutely incapable of receiving any thing, except by the Body; but because, as long as She is united to It, she cannot admit any Change in her Modifications, without making some Alteration in the Body. 'Tis true, she may be enlightned, or receive new Ideas, and the Body need not have any hand in it; but that's because pure Ideas are not Modifications of the Soul, as I have prov'd in another place. I speak not here of sensible Ideas, because these include a Sensation, and every Sensation is a mode of the Souls existing.

The Second OBJECTION against the Eleventh and Twelfth Articles.

As by one Man sin entred into the World, &c. Rom. 5.12.If Original Sin descends, by reason of the Communication which is found between the Brain of the Mother, and that of her Infant, the Mother is the cause of the Sin; and the Father has no part in it. Yet St. Paul teaches us, that by Man came sin into the World: He does not so much as speak of the Woman. Therefore, &c.

ANSWER.

I was shapen in Iniquity, and in sin hath my Mother conceiv'd me. Ps. 51.5. Ec. 25.23. Luke 2.48. David assures us, that his Mother conceiv'd him in iniquity: and the Son of Syrach says, Of the Woman came the beginning of Sin, and by her we all dy. Neither of them speak of Man. St. Paul on the contrary says, that by Man, Sin entred into the World, and speaks not of the Woman. How will these Testimonies accord, and which of the two is to be justify'd, if it be necessary to vindicate either. In discourse we never attribute to the Woman any thing peculiar to the Man, wherein she has no part: But that is often ascrib'd to the Man which is proper to the VVoman, because her Husband is her Master and Head. We see that the Evangelists, and also the Holy Virgin, call Joseph the Father of Jesus, when she says to her Son, Behold thy Father and I have sought thee sorrowing. Therefore seeing we are assur'd by Holy Writ, that Woman has subjected us to Sin and Death, it is absolutely necessary to believe it; nor can it be thrown upon the Man; But though it testifies in several places that 'tis by Man that Sin enters into the World, yet there is not an equal necessity to believe it, since what is of the Woman is commonly attributed to the Man. And if we were oblig'd by Faith to excuse either the Man, or the Woman, it would be more reasonable to excuse the former than the latter.

However I believe these forecited passages are to be litterally explain'd, and that we are to say both the Man and Woman are the true causes of Sin, each in their own way. The Woman, in that by her, Sin is communicated; it being by her that the Man begets the Children; and the Man, in that his Sin is the cause of Concupiscence; as his action is the cause of the fecundity of the Woman, or of the communication that is between her and her Infant.

It is certain, that 'tis the Man that impregnates the Woman, and consequently is the cause of that communication, between her Body and the Child's, since that communication is the Principle of its Life. Now that Communication not only gives the Child's Body the dispositions of its Mother's, but also gives its Mind the dispositions of her Mind: Therefore we may say with St. Paul, that by one Man sin entred into the world; and nevertheless by reason of that communication we may say, that Sin came from a Woman, and by her we all dye: and that our Mother has conceiv'd us in Iniquity, as is said in other places of Scripture.

It may be said perhaps, that though Man had not sinn'd, yet Woman had produc'd sinful Children; for having her self sinn'd, she had lost the Power God gave her over her Body: and thus, though Man had remain'd Innocent, she had corrupted the Brain, and consequently the Mind of her Child, by reason of that communication between them.

But this surely looks not very probable. For Man whilst righteous, knowing what he does, cannot give the Woman that wretched fecundity of conceiving sinful Children. If he remains Righteous [Page] he wills not any Children but for God, to whom Infant Sinners cannot be well pleasing; for I suppose not here a Mediator. I grant however that in that case the Marriage had not been dissolv'd, and that the Man had known his Wife. But it is certain, that the Body of the Woman belong'd to her Husband, since it was taken out of his; and was the same Flesh. Duo in carne una. It is moreover certain, that Children are as much the Fathers as the Mothers. Which being so, we can't be persuaded that the Woman would have lost the Power over her Body, if her Husband had not sinn'd as well as she. For if the Woman had been depriv'd of that Power whilst the Man remain'd Innocent, there had been this Disorder in the Universe, that an upright Man should have a corrupt Body, and sinful Children. Whereas it is against Order, or rather a contradiction, that a just God should punish a perfectly Innocent Man. And for this reason Eve feels no involuntary and rebellious Motions, immediately after her sin; as yet she is not asham'd of her Nakedness, nor goes to hide her self. On the contrary, she comes to her Husband, though naked as her self; her Eyes are not yet open'd; but she is still as before, the absolute Comptroller of her own Body. Order requir'd that immediately after her Sin, her Soul should be disturb'd by the rebellion of her Body, and by the shame of her own and her Husband's nakedness; for there was no reason that God should any longer suspend on her behalf the Laws of the Communication of Motions: as I have said in the seventh Article. But because her Body is her Husband's, who is as yet Innocent; she is not punish'd in this Body; but this punishment is deferr'd till the time that he should eat himself of the Fruit which she presented him: Then it was they both began to feel the rebellion of their Body; that they saw they were naked, and that shame oblig'd them to cover themselves with Fig-leaves. Thus we must say, that Adam was truly the cause of Original Sin, and Concupiscence,Gen. c. 3. since it was his Sin that depriv'd both himself and his Wife of their power over their Body; by which defectiveness of power the Woman produces in the Brain of her Child such tracks as corrupt its Soul at the very instant of its Creation.

OBJECTION against the Twelfth Article.

'Tis but random divining to say the communication between the Mother's and the Infant's Brain is necessary or useful to the conformation of the foetus. For there is no such Communication between the Brain of an Hen, and that of her Chickens, which notwithstanding are perfectly and compleatly form'd.

ANSWER.

I answer that in the seventh Chapter of the Second Book, I have sufficiently demonstrated, that Communication, by the use I make of it, in explaining the Generation of Monsters; as also certain natural Marks and Fears deriv'd from the Mother. For 'tis evident, that a Man who swoons away at the sight of a Snake, because his Mother was frighted with one when she bore him in her Womb, could not be subject to that Infirmity, but because formerly such Traces had been imprinted on his Brain, as these which open upon seeing a Snake, and that they were accompany'd with a like Accident. And herein I am no Diviner; for I do not venture to determine wherein that Communication precisely consists. I might say it was perform'd by those Fibres which the Foetus shoots into the Matrix of the Mother, and by the Nerves wherewith that part is, very probably, fill'd; and in saying so I should no more divine, than would a Man who had never seen the Engines call'd La Samaritaine, in affirming there were Wheels and Pumps to raise the Water. Nevertheless I can't see why divining is not sometimes allowable, provided a Man sets not up for a Prophet, La Samaritaine upon Pont neuf in Paris. and speaks not in too positive a strain; I rather think he is permitted to speak his Thoughts, whilst he pretends not to be Infallible, nor Lords it unjustly over others by dogmatical Decisions, or by the help of Scientifick Terms. 'Tis not always divining to speak of things which are not visible, and which contradict Prejudices, If so be we speak no more than we easily conceive, and which readily makes its way into the mind of others who desire to understand Reason.

I say then, that supposing the general Laws of the Communication of Motions, such as they are there is great Probability that the particular Communication of the Mother's Brain, with that of her Infant, is necessary to form its Body, in a requisite manner; or at least is necessary to give the Brain of the Infant certain dispositions, which ought to vary according to different Times and Countries, as I have explain'd in the same Chapter.

I confess there is no Communication between the Brain of an Hen, and that of a Chicken, in the Egg, which nevertheless is perfectly well form'd. But it ought to be observ'd, that the Chicken is farther advanc'd in the Egg, when the Hen lays it, than the Foetus when it descends into the Matrix: which may well be concluded, since there goes less time to the hatching Chickens, than there goes to the bringing forth Whelps; though the Belly of the Bitch being very hot, and her Blood in perpetual motion, the Whelps should be sooner form'd than the Eggs hatch'd, were not the Chickens farther advanc'd in their Eggs, than the Whelps in their Cicatricles. Now there is great probability that the formation of the Chicken in the Egg, before it was laid, was effected by the communication I am speaking of.

I answer in the second place, that the growth of the Body of Fowls, is possibly more conformable to the general laws of Motion than that of four-footed Animals; and that so the communication of the Females Brain, with that of her young ones, is not so necessary in Fowls as in other Animals: [Page] For the reason that makes that communication necessary, is probably the remedying the defect of these general Laws, which in some particular Cases, are insufficient to regulate the Formation and Growth of Animals.

I answer lastly, there is no such necessity, to the preservation of the Life of Birds, that they should have so many particular Dispositions in their Brain as other Animals. They have Wings to fly harm, and to secure their feed; and have no need of all that particular Mechanism which is the principle of the cunning, and docility of some domestick Creatures. Therefore the old ones need not instruct their young in many things, as they breed them, nor capacitate them to be taught many afterwards, by giving them a disposition of Brain that's fit for Docility. Those who breed young Dogs for the Game, sometimes find those which naturally set, meerly from the instruction they receiv'd from their Damm, who often us'd to set with them in her Belly. There is a great difference almost always observable in the breed of these Creatures, some of which are much more Docil and Tractable than others of the same Species. But I do not think there ever was a Fowl that taught any thing extraordinary to her young; that a Hen, for Example, ever hatch'd a Chicken who could do any thing but what they all do naturally. Birds then are not so tractable or capable of Instruction as other Animals. The Disposition of their Brain is not ordinarily capable of many Changes; nor do they act so much by Imitation, as some domestick Animals. Young Ducks, which follow an Hen, don't stay for her Example to take the Water; and the Chickens, on the contrary, never betake themselves to swim, though hatch'd and led by a Duck, that loves the Water. But there are Animals that easily and readily imitate the uncommon Motions, which they see others do. However I do not pretend, that much stress is to be laid on these last Reflections, since they are not necessary to establish my Opinion.

Second OBJECTION against the Twelfth Article.

'Tis likewise divining to affirm, That the Mother before her Sin might have any intercourse with her Embryo; there being no necessary relation between our Thoughts and Motions happening in our Brain. And therefore that Communication between the Mother's and the Infant's Brain is useless.

ANSWER.

It is evident, That without this Communication, the Infant was incapable of having any Commerce with its Mother, or the Mother with her Infant, without a particular Miracle. Now before the Sin Order requir'd, That the Mother should have notice of all the Corporeal wants of her Infant, and that the Infant should resent its Obligations to its Parents. Therefore since all things were in Order before the Sin, and that God acts always agreeably to Order, the Mother and the Child had some Commerce by means of this Communication.

To understand wherein this Commerce may have consisted, it must be remembred, That the Connexion of the Tracks of the Brain, with the Ideas of the Soul, may be several ways effected, either by Nature,Chap. 2. Part 2. or by the Institution of Men, or some other way, as I have shewn how in the Second Book.

In beholding a Square, or the Look of a Person suffering any Pain, the Idea of a Square, or of an afflicted Person, rises in the Mind. This is common to all Nations, and the Connexion between these Ideas and these Traces, is natural. When an Englishman hears pronounc'd, or reads the Word Square, he has likewise the Idea of a Square: but the Connexion, which is between the Sound, or the Letters of that Word, and its Idea, is not natural, nor is it general with all the World. I say then, That the Mother and her Infant must naturally have had a Correspondence between them, upon all the things that could be represented to the Mind by natural Connexions: That if the Mother, for Instance, had seen a Square, the Infant would have seen one too; and that if the Infant had imagin'd any Figure, he would have likewise excited the Traces of the same Figure in the Imagination of his Mother. But they would have had no Commerce together about things of a purely Spiritual Nature, nor even about Corporeal things, whenever they conceiv'd them, without the help of the Senses and Imagination. The Mother might have thought on GOD, have heard or read the Word Square, or the like; and yet the Child not have discover'd what were her Thoughts thereof, unless in Tract of Time, she should have setled a new Commerce of intellectual Ideas with it, much what the same with that of Nurses, when they teach their Children to speak. I explain and prove these things.

One would think I had sufficiently prov'd them, by the Explication I gave of the Cause of Hereditary Aversions, and Marks which Children bring with them into the World, deriv'd from the Traces of their Mothers. Now these Traces of corporeal things are inseperable from their Ideas; which makes the Ideas to be communicated along with them, and the Children to see, feel, imagine the same things as their Mothers. They have now, whether they will or not, the Sensations of their Mothers: but were they not Sinners, they would have had the power of hindring, when they pleas'd, the Effect of that their Communication with their Mother. They might likewise have re-excited in their Brain, the Tracks which they receiv'd from their Mothers, by the same reason that we imagine what we please, when our Sensations are not too vivid and affecting: which being suppos'd, it is evident, That the Mother, when considerately attending to her Infant, might have [Page] discover'd, by a kind of Repercussion, whether or no it receiv'd the Impression she excited in it, and likewise other things that it might think upon. For as the Mother could not vibrate the Fibres of her Brain, but the Fibres of the Infant's Brain must have receiv'd the Impression; so the Infant could not stop that Vibration, or cause any other, without giving the Mother notice by some light Impression, provided she made her self very attentive, by the power she had of stifling every other Noise than that which her Infant caus'd in her. Thus it must be acknowledg'd, That the Mother, and the Infant, would have had some intercourse before the Sin, or else we must deny all Correspondence between their Brains, or the power of the Soul over the Body, to be such as I have before maintain'd. This appears evident, though the wanton Imagination starts, and Prejudices band against it. 'Tis true, this Commerce at first would have reach'd but to Matters that come under the Senses and Imagination; it not being absolutely necessary, that the Child, which had only a Corporeal Dependence on the Mother, should receive from her any other Ideas than those of sensible Objects. For its Soul being strictly united to God, whilst in a State of Innocency, would have receiv'd immediately from him all the Ideas which respected not the Body: But whereas in time we may affix the most abstract Ideas to things sensible, which have no relation to them, this Commerce between the Mother and her Child, would, very likely, have quickly extended to things of a more Spiritual Order, if they strove to correspond about such sort of Matters.

I am sensible, that what I now say will not seem reasonable to very many; and that even those who resist their Prejudices, and labour against the continual Tide of sensible Impressions, will admire at the Novelty of this Notion. But if we seriously reflect on the way that a Master takes to instruct his Disciples, and observe what different means he is oblig'd to make use of, to manifest his own Ideas of things to them; the Comparisons he makes, and the Judgments he passes about these Ideas, and the other Dispositions of his Mind, in reference to his Scholars; we shall see it will be a much harder Task for him to discover his Thoughts and inward Dispositions of Mind to them, than for a Mother to do it to her Infan [...]s; provided we only suppose, that the Traces of the Mother's Brain are imprinted on the Child's, which is evident from all that I have said before. For, in fine, it is manifest, that the Voice, and all exteriour Signs that we employ to express our Thoughts to others, obtain the desir'd Effect, only because they imprint on the Brain of our Hearers, the same Traces, and raise the same Emotions of the Spirits, as accompany our Ideas, and our inward Disposition, on their respect.

OBJECTION against the Seventeenth and following Articles.

'Tis a rash Assertion to say, Children in Baptism are justify'd by actual Motions of their Will towards God. We must not give vent to such New Opinions; which do no good, but only make a noise.

ANSWER.

I grant, that we ought not positively to affirm, That Children are justify'd by formal Acts of their Will: I believe it impossible to know any thing of it; and that we are not positively to assert any thing but what we know. But because there are but too many, who are apt to believe, That Justification of Children is only external, and by Imputation, by reason, say they, they are incapable of performing any Act of Love towards God; I think it fit to let them know, that they are brought by Prejudice to that Opinion. For the Prejudices of Men, in respect of Children, are such, as make them commonly fansie they have no Thought in their Mother's Womb, and in the beginning of their Age, and even that they are absolutely incapable of thinking. They believe that they have not so much as the Ideas of things; that it is their Masters that furnish them with Discourse; and that if they have any Inclinations, they are of another Nature from ours, and incompetent to carry them to the Sovereign Good. The greatest part of Men can't distinctly conceive, That Childrens Souls are like those of grown up Persons; And that they don't come to Strength and Perfection by degrees, like the Body; And that if they were deliver'd one moment from the Impression the Body made upon them, and mov'd by the Delectation of Grace, they would in that moment be more pure and enlighten'd than the Souls of the greatest Saints; who feel always working in their Mind and Heart the Leaven of Concupiscence.

Concupiscence is commonly look'd upon as Natural, and is not always consider'd as a consequence of Sin: and this makes Men conclude unawares, that the Stupidity of Children is a necessary consequence of their Infirmity of Body, Tenderness of Age, and also incapacity of Mind. Which Conclusion or Prejudice is constantly represented to the Mind, and prepossess it in such a manner, as hinders it from examining the thing in its own Nature. Therefore those who have treated of the Effect of Baptism, in the Ages past, have omitted the explaining the Regeneration of Infants by the actual Motions of their Heart: Not that they were induc'd by strong Reasons to judge it impossible; for their Works do not shew they have ever so much as examin'd it; but (as is visible) because they have supposs'd it so; and that it has hardly entred their Heads to doubt of it: or possibly, because they wa [...]'d giving an Explication so repugnant to Prejudices, at a Time when no such Attempts were made, to get rid of them, as now-a-days there are.

But if it be consider'd how necessary it is to give a closer Explication than that, for Instance, [Page] which St. Austin gives inLib. 1. de Napt. Cap. 25, 26, 27, & in Jul. l. 6. c. 19. & alibi. several places, which looks towards Imputation; though in others he speaks in a way that does Ep 23. lib. de peccator. meritis, c. 19. & alibi. not countenance it: If it be consider'd that Imputation is very commodious, and likely for that Reason embrac'd by some Ancient and Innocent. III. in Decret. 3. de Baptismo & ejus Effectu. Et in Concil. Viennensi generali 15. sub Clement V. Orthodox Divines; and moreover absolutely necessary for those, who, without any convincing Proof, deny Spiritual Habits; whom it may be good to satisfie, if possible. Lastly, If respect be had to natural Equity, which forbids us to condemn the secret Purposes and Intentions; after all this, I say, what I offer may possibly appear improbable: But yet I can't see why it should be taken ill, that I endeavour to content even the most querelous Minds touching their Difficulties about Original Sin.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Third CHAPTER of the Third PART of the Second BOOK. Wherein I speak of the power of Imagination of some Authors, and particularly of Tertullian.

AS I am well satisfy'd that the most general and fruitful Principle of Errors in the Scicences, and especially in Morals, is the Impression made by lively Imaginations on the Mind of Men, who are manag'd more by Mechanism than by Reason; so I thought it lay upon me to set this truth to open view, by all the ways that might awaken them from their slumber on its account: And because Examples strike deepest, especially when the Instance is somewhat great, and uncommon; I thought that the celebrated Names of Tertullian, Seneca, and Montague, were the most proper to raise their Attention, and give them a sensible conviction of the contagious Empire of the Imagination over Reason. For if Words, all-dead, and unanimated by the look and sensible behaviour of these famous Authors, have still more Force than the Reason of a great many others; if the Turn of Expression, that gives but a faint Id [...]a of the sensible action, which the Imagination lively diffuses over the Face, and the rest of the Body of those who are pierc'd with what they say; is able to Agitate, Penetrate, and Convince a great many: certainly it must be granted that nothing is more dangerous, than a respectful Attention to Men of a strong and lively Imagination. For their Air and Way is a natural Language, so powerful and convincing; and they know how to Image things so passionately to the Life, that they seldom fail of raising the Senses and [...]assions against Reason, and pouring, as I may say, Conviction and Certitude into their Spectators.

I easily foresaw, in alledging these great Examples, that it was impracticable to cure those who were amaz'd, and thunder-struck, with the reading of these three fam'd Authors. For a little knowledge of the nature of Man will suffice to teach us, that the wounds of the Brain are harder to be heal'd than those of the other parts of the Body, and that 'tis easier to close up a sore not expos'd to fresh insult from without, than to make a perfect cure of an inveterate Prejudice that justifies it self each minute by very-probable-Reasons.

'Tis extreamly difficult to close up exactly the Traces of the Brain, because expos'd to the course of the Spirits, and liable to be constantly renew'd by infinite other Traces which may be call'd accessory. These sorts of Wounds cannot ordinarily be cur'd, or made up, till the Brain receives others more deep, which opposing them cause a violent and continual Revulsion in the Spirits. For we ought not to reckon a Prejudice quite cur'd, when we fancy it is, because we are not actually affected with it: then only the cure is perfected when the Trace is quite shut up; and not when the Spirits desist from their wanted course for some particular Reason.

I knew then well enough that such as had been prostrated, and over-whelm'd by the Force and Motions of Tertullian, ravish'd and dazl'd by the loftiness and beauties of Seneca, charm'd and corrupted by the gentile, easie and natural Turns of Montague, would not change their Opinion by reading a few Pages of my Book. I judg'd on the contrary I should incur their displeasure, by trying to dissolve the inchantment which so held them.

But as I hop'd these Examples would be useful to my design for the fore-mention'd Reasons: I thought I was to be more regardful of the Profit of many who were Free from Prepossession, than of the Spleen of some particulars, that I concluded would censure the liberty I had taken. I consider'd there were very few so strongly prevented with esteem for these Authors, but it was hop'd might return to sound sence again. I concluded lastly, that there being hardly one, it may be, prepossess'd with all Three together, because of the diverse Characters of their Imagination; the most Opinionated might find I was in the right in a good many things▪

[Page]I know what Respect I ought to have for the Works of Tertullian, as well on account of the Subjects that he treats of, as of the Approbation they have receiv'd from several Persons, who ought to be able to judge of them. And I have sufficiently manifested that Temper of Mind, by what I have said of him, and by the Quality of the Book de Pallio, of which alone I have spoke with so much freedom, though there were others, it may be, fitter for my purpose.

But after all I don't think that Time ought to change and amplifie the Ideas of things; that all Antiquities are venerable; and that illegitimate Reasons, and extravagant ways are worthy of Respect, because they were a long time in the World before us. I can't think that affected Obscurities ought to be venerated like Sacred Mysteries; Sallies of Imagination to go for shining Lights of Knowledge; and African Heats, which work in a Mind naturally full of Fire, to be look'd on as Motions of a Prophetick Spirit, which can divulge nothing but sublime Truths.

I am certain, that even those who defer most to Tertullian's Works, will agree with me in all this, and that they are too equitable, to justifie the Disorders of Imagination against Reason. But it may be they are a-kin to those Judicious Persons, who, though they infinitely love Truth, yet they are not insensible to outside Manners. For I have oftentime observ'd some of them so enchanted with certain strong, lively, great, and pompous Expressions of Tertullian, that having prov'd to them that Author was none of the most Judicious and Reasonable, they would think it enough to convince and surprize me, only to repeat them.

I own that Tertullian has Expressions extreamly strong and bold, which produce most lively and animated Images in the Mind; and upon that score I justly bring him for an Example, of the Power which strong Imaginations have to move, and convince by Impression. Thus those who urge to me these Objections, confirm my Opinion by opposing it. Their Prepossession and Esteem for Tertullian justifies my Conduct: the frequent Citations, and the big Words, which they alledge, prove what I say. For they use not in Discourse to produce entire Reasonings; but often quote strong and lively Expressions, in order to dazzle, perturbate, and convince by the sensible Impression.

There is no Reason, I think, to imagine, that I set up for a Censor of so many great Men, who cite Tertullian constantly in the Pulpit, and elsewhere; They have their Reasons for it: into which I neither do, nor ought to enquire. What I have said of that Author is methinks evident enough: Let every one deduce his Consequences according to his Knowledge, without attributing those Thoughts to me, which I never had. Those who pretend to dive into the Designs of others frame commonly such Phantasms as resemble but themselves: it being customary with Men, to taint, and infect others with the Venom of their own Passions. We are apt to measure all things by our selves, and they would do well to consider, who condemn me, whether they do not judge themselves un-a-wares, in doing it. But if they would have me declare my self upon the Citations of Tertullian, I grant a Man has right to make use of them for several Reasons; and likewise that they are sometimes most usefully employ'd, to make some practical Truths more sensible, which are barren and unfruitful, as long as they lie dormant in our inward Reasons, and raise in us no contrary Motions to those which the Goods of the Body excite in us.

Nevertheless I can't think those Mens Opinions very unreasonable, who believe we are not to cite Authors by Name, save when they are infallible; and that, except in things out of Reasons Prerogative, and which Authority ought to take place, no Quotations are to be made. This formerly was the Custom of the Fathers: St. Cyprian never cited Tertullian though he has taken a great deal from him; and if it be true what St. Jerome reports of that Holy Bishop, by hear-say, viz. That talking of Tertullian he call'd him his Master; either his Name must not have been so Authoritave, nor his Expression so forcible as they are at present upon Mens minds; or else St. Cyprian was wonderfully rigorous in the Observance of that Custom of his Time: it being very strange such a Disciple should never have mention'd his Master in any of his Works.

St. Jerome's History is commonly urg'd in Defence of Tertullian; and I have been sometimes told, I was too blame to speak so as I did, of a Man, whom St. Cyprian call'd his Master. But I question whether St. Jerome would not have been too easie of belief, in what made for the Honour of Tertullian. To me he seems to have had somewhat too great an Inclination for him,Invidia postea & contumetiis Claricorum Romanae Ecclesiae ad Monrani dogma delapsus, in multis libris novae prophetiae Meminit. Hieron. in Catalogo de Script. Eccles. since he in some measure excuses his Fall by retorting his Heresie on the Envy of the Romish Clergy, and the evil Usage he receiv'd from them. But if that Story, which is founded only on what St. Jerome heard one Person say, be true; I must confess, I know not what to make of that Silence observ'd by St. Cyprian in his Writings, with reference to Tertullian. That Silence of a Scholar may be suspected to conceal some Mystery not advantagious to the Master; and if that History, as well as Tertullian's own Works, did not give us sufficiently to understand, that he was not altogether worthy of the great Esteem that is paid him by very many; yet I question whether St. Cyprian's Conduct, his Silence, his Stile, his Ways, would not be sufficient to lessen it; and to make us think, That, probably, that Author's Reputation was not so well establish'd in Africa it self, which ought to have been more favourable to him than a Clime so temperate as ours.

Our own Country and Africa produce very different Wits: the Genius of the former, being natural, rational, and irreconcileable to all over-strain'd Manners, it is strange to find any among them addicted to an Author, who never studied nor follow'd Nature: and who instead of consulting his Reason, suffers himself to be transported by his ungovern'd heats into altogether obscure, monstrous, and extravagant Expressions.

[Page]But this probably is owing to the mighty Force of Imagination which disarms Reason, and even changes Nature. And indeed a Man in the Fury of Passion perturbates, and even changes the natural situation of our Imagination to adapt it to his own. And then there is no Motion but what seems Natural, no Expression but's Agreeable, no Nonsence but's convincing. For we stand to examine nothing seriously. Now as the Passions vindicate themselves, and irregular immaginations take delight only in their Irregularity, 'tis impossible to judge soberly of things, as long as the Brain preserves the violent Impression it has receiv'd. There is no Man in the Transport of Passion but is perpetually sollicited to justifie it; nor any disturb'd in Brain, but is pleas'd in the disturbance. For if those who fancy themselves Cocks, Wolves, Oxen, please themselves wonderfully in imitating the actions that are customary with these Creatures, though quite contrary to the nature of Man: it may easily be judg'd that we shall be far from condemning the Behaviour of those, who by the Contagion of their Imagination have made us in a manner like them. For in condemning them we are conscious we condemn our selves.

There's a very particular Reason why some of the Learn'd should glory in espousing Tertullian, and expressing so extraordinary an esteem for him. Which is that affected obscurity, which serves as one of the principal Rules of his Rhetorick.

In these days all empty and senseless Expressions, and all obscure and perplex'd ways of speaking, go under the name of nonsence. But there have been found such as have look'd upon Obscurity, as one of the greatest mysteries in Eloquence, with whom the Art of perswading consisted partly in being unintelligible.

If publick Haranguers had always the clear and distinct Ideas of the Truths they went about to perswade, and spoke only to persons that were capable of a competent Attention to understand them, the precept of affecting obscurity in discourse, would be the most extravagant in the World. But though this precept absolutely contradicts all Reason, yet it may be said to be proportionate and fit for the Genius of most Men: not only because a Mysterious Obscurity conceals the Ignorance of the Speaker, but also for its raising such a sense in others as disposes them to yield, and be convinc'd.

Experience manifests, that most Men esteem what they do not comprehend; that they reverence, like Mysteries, whatever is above their reach, and think an Orator has a wonderful Talent, when he dazles them, by the glitterings of discourse, and by a Language of Imagination, when Reason has nothing to do.

The Inclination Men have for Grandeur exceeds that which they have for Truth: wherefore Pompous Nonsence which perswades by the Impression, is better receiv'd than pure Argumentation which perswades by force of Evidence: since Evidence makes way only by Reflections, which always cost the Maker trouble: but sensible Conviction flows into the Soul, and penetrates it in a most agreeable manner.

The Good which alone is capable of satisfying our desires, is at once Infinite, and Inaccessible, and great and obscure Expressions have something of this Character. So that Obscurity raising our Desires, whilst Greatness provokes our Admiration, and Esteem; these Expressions win us by the Motions they produce in us.

When we understand, or think we understand a difficult and obscure Author, we value our selves above others that do not; and sometimes look upon them, as Ignorant. The Pains we have taken to master him, interess us in his Defence. For by venerating this Author, and procuring the Veneration of others, we justifie our own studies: and as we find pleasure in justifying our selves, so we must not fail to praise and defend him with Earnestness and Zeal, and by lively and sensible ways.

These Reasons, and some others of less force are sufficient, I think, to let us know, that the obscurity of Tertullian is no disadvantage to him in the Opinion of some Persons; and that likely they would have less admir'd him, if the Truths which are scatter'd over his Works were reduc'd to their more simple and clear Ideas.

Mathematical Truths and Relations are always Sum'd up in their Exponents, that is, in the most simple terms that express them; and are disengag'd from all perplexing and obscuring Dependencies. For Geometricians love naked Truth; and desire not to convince by Impression, but by Light and Evidence. But what would become of most of Tertullian's Thoughts, were they reduc'd to their Exponents by the Rules of Logical Geometricians, and should we see them strip'd of all that sensible Pomp which dazles Reason. Yet if we would judge solidly of this Author's Reasonings, we ought to make the Experiment.

However I do not pretend that Tertullian ought to have written with Geometrical Plainness. Figures which express our sentiments and motions, with respect to the Truths we expose to others, are absolutely necessary; and I think that more especially in discourse of Religion and Morality we ought to Employ those Ornaments which procure all the reverence that is due to Truth, and those Motions which actuate the Soul, and incline her to vertuous Actions. But we are not to dress up and adorn a Phantasm without substance and reality; nor excite Motions when there's no occasion; and if we will vigorously impress on our Hearers Conviction, and Certitude, 'tis necessary that the Conviction should relate to something true and solid. We must neither convince, nor be convinced without knowing evidently, distinctly, precisely, why we do the one, or suffer the other. We ought to know both what we say, and what we think; and only to Love Truth, and Knowledge, without putting out the Eyes of others, after we have made blind our selves.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Nature of IDEAS. Wherein I explain how we see all things in God, both Truths and Laws Eternal.

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I Hoped that what I had said upon the nature of Ideas, was sufficient to have shown that God only enlightens our understanding. But I have found by Experience, that there are Persons incapable of a competent Attention to conceive the Reasons I have given of this Principle. Abstracted reasons are incomprehensible to the greatest part of Men, but that which is sensible awakens them, and fixes and keeps open the Eye of their Mind. They cannot consider, nor, consequently, comprehend what comes not under the Senses, nor Imagination. Which thing I have often said, nor can I too often repeat.

'Tis plain that Bodies are not visible of themselves: that they cannot act upon our mind, nor represent themselves to it. This has no need of proof; but is discover'd by a bare perception, and is infinitely more certain, than that Bodies communicate their Motion when they meet. But it is not certain, save with those who silence their Senses, to listen to their Reason. Therefore all Mankind believe that Bodies impel each other, because the Senses tell them so, but they do not believe that Bodies are of themselves absolutely invisible, and incapable of acting on the Mind, because the Senses do not tell them this, but seem to say the contrary.

Nevertheless there are some whose reason is so steadfast and resolv'd, as to rise up to the most abstract Truths. They contemplate them with attention, and couragiously resist the Impression of their Senses and Imagination. But the Body insensibly weighing down the Mind, they relapse, these Ideas vanish, and whilst the Imagination stirs up more sensible and lively, the former are beheld as Apparitions, that only cause mistrust and fear of delusion.

We are easily apt to distrust those Persons, or things we are not familiar with, and which have not afforded us any sensible pleasure: For 'tis Pleasure that wins the Heart, and Familiarity that cures our Trouble and disquiet of Mind. Wherefore those who are not us'd to Metaphysical, and abstract Truths, are very prone to believe we purpose to seduce them, when we only labour to instruct them. They look with a suspicious Eye, and a kind of dread, upon Ideas which have nothing charming and sensible, and the Love they bear to their own Repose and Felicity, speedily rids them of so vexatious a Contemplation, which seems incapable of contenting them.

If the Question, before us, were not of the greatest Importance, the Reasons I have given, and some others not necessary to be produc'd, would oblige me to say no more of it; for I foresee that whatever I can say upon this subject will never enter the Heads of some People. But this Principle, That there is none but God who enlightens us; and that this illumination is effected by the manifestation of an immutable, and necessary Reason, or Wisdom; seems to me so conformable to Religion, that I think my self indispensably oblig'd to Explain it, and maintain it to the utmost of my Power. I had rather be call'd a Visionist, Enthusiast, and all the fine Names that the Imagination, (which in little Souls is always Sarcastical) uses to oppose to reasons it cannot comprehend, or defend it self against; than to grant that Bodies are capable of instructing me; that I am my own Master, Reason and Light: and that to be thoroughly inform'd in all things, I need only consult my self; or other Men, who perhaps may fill my Ears with a loud noise, but certainly cannot infuse Light and Knowledge into my Mind. Here then are some farther Reasons for the Opinion I have establish'd, in the Chapter belonging to this Illustration.

No body will deny that Man is capable of knowing Truth: and the least intelligent Philosophers acknowledge that he partakes of a certain Reason, which they don't determine. And therefore they define him animal Rationis particeps. For there is no body but knows, at least confusedly, that the essential difference of Man consists in his necessary union with Universal Reason, though it be not commonly known who it is that includes this Reason, and little Care is taken to discover it. I see for Example, that two times two are four, and that a Friend is preferable to a Dog; and I am certain there is no Man in the World but sees this as well as I. Now I discover not these truths in the Mind of others, no more than others do in mine: Therefore there is necessarily an Vniversal Reason which enligntens me, and all intelligent Beings. For if the Reason I consult were not the same as that which answers the Chinese, 'tis evident, I could not be assur'd, as I am,Siambo videmus verum esse quod dicis & am [...]o videmus verum esse quod di [...]o, ubi quaeso id videmus? Nec ego utique in te, nec tu in me; sed ambo in ipsa, quae supra mentes nostras est, incommutabili veritate. Confess. de S. Aug. l. 12. c. 25. See St. Austin De libero arbitrio▪ &c. Book 2. Chap. 8. that the Chinese see the [Page] same Truths as I see. Therefore the Reason we consult, when we retire into our selves, is an universal Reason: I say when we retire into our selves, for I speak not here of the Reason which is follow'd by a Man in a Passion. When a Man prefers the Life of his Coach-Horse before that of his Coach-Man, he has his Reasons for it, but they are particular Reasons which every rational Man abhors. They are reasons which at Bottom are not reasonable, because not conformable to Soveraign or universal Reason, which all Mankind consults.

I am certain that the Ideas of things are immutable, and that Eternal Truths and Laws are necessary. 'Tis impossible they should not be what they are. But in my self I find nothing either immutable, or necessary: 'Tis possible for me not to exist: or exist otherwise than I do. There may be Minds that are not like me: and yet I am certain there can be no mind that sees other Truths, and Laws than what I see. For every mind necessarily sees that two times two are four; and that a Friend is to be prefer'd before a Dog. We must then conclude, That the Reason which is consulted by all minds is an immutable and necessary Reason.

Moreover, it is evident, that this same reason is Infinite. The mind of Man clearly conceives that there either are, or may be an infinite number of intelligible Triangles, Tetragones, Pentagones, and other such like Figures. Nor does it only conceive, that the Ideas of figures are inexhaustible, and that it might still discover new ones, though it should study only these Figures to all Eternity; but it perceives an Infinity in Extension. The mind clearly perceives that the number which multiplied by it self produces 5, or any of the numbers between 4 and 9, between 9 and 16, between 16 and 25▪ &c. is a Quantity, a Relation, a Fraction, whose terms contain more figures than will reach from one Pole of the World to the other. It clearly sees it is such a Relation as none but God can comprehend, and that 'tis impossible to express it exactly, because to express it we need a Fraction whose two terms are Infinite: I might bring a great many such Examples, from which we might conclude, not only that the Mind of Man is finite, but that the Reason he consults is infinite. For in brief, his Mind clearly sees infinite, in this Reason, though he does not comprehend it, since he can compare incommensurable numbers together, and know their Relations, though he cannot compare them with the unite. Or, (that we may stick only to what is sensible,) The Reason which Man consults is infinite, since it cannot be exhausted, and it has always something to answer to whatever we demand.

But if it be true, that the Reason whereof all Men participate be universal, and infinite: if it be true that it is immutable and necessary; it is certain, that it differs not from that of God himself. For none but the universal and infinite Being contains in himself universal and infinite Reason. All Creatures are particular Beings; wherefore Vniversal Reason is not created. No Creatures are infinite: Universal Reason therefore is no Creature. But the Reason we consult is not only Universal and Infinite, but also necessary and independant, and we conceive it in one sence more independant than God himself. For God cannot but act by this Reason; on which he in one sence depends; and which he must needs consult and follow. But God consults only himself: He depends on nothing. This Reason therefore is not distinct from him; but is coeternal and consubstantial with him. We see clearly that God cannot punish an innocent Creature: that he cannot subject minds to Bodies, and that he's oblig'd to follow Order. We see therefore the Rule, Order and Reason of God; for what other Wisdom than that of God can we see, when we fear not to affirm, that God is oblig'd to follow it?

But after all, can we conceive any Wisdom which is not the Wisdom of God? Does Solomon, who speaks so well of Wisdom, distinguish it into two sorts? Does not he teach us that which is Coeternal with God, that by which he has establish'd the Order we see in his Works, is the same which presides over all Minds; and which Legislators consult to make Just and Reasonable Laws. We need only read the Eighth Chapter of Proverbs, to be perswaded of this Truth. I know that the Holy Scripture speaks of a certain Wisdom, which it names the Wisdom of the Age, the Wisdom of Men; but then it speaks only according to appearance, or ordinary Opinion: For we learn in other places, that that Wisdom is Folly, and Abomination, not only before God, but before all Men that consult Reason.

Certainly, if Eternal Laws and Truths depended on God, and were establish'd by a free will of the Creator: in a word, if the Reason we consult were not necessary and independant: it seems evident to me, that we must bid farewel to all true Science; and that we might err in affirming that the Arithmetick and Geometrie of the Chinese is the same as ours. For indeed if it were not absolutely necessary that 2 times 4 should be 8, or the three Angles of a Triangle equal to two right ones; what proof could we have that these sorts of Truth were not like those which are receiv'd, but in some Universities, and which continue but a certain Season? Do we clearly conceive that God cannot desist to will what he will'd with a will absolutely free and indifferent? or rather do we clearly conceive it impossible for God to have will'd certain things, for a determinate time, or place, for some particular Persons, or certain kinds of Beings; supposing him, as some will have him, intirely free and indifferent in that Will; For my own part, I cannot conceive any Necessity in Indifferency, nor reconcile two so opposite things together.

But let it be suppos'd, that it can be clearly perceiv'd, that God by a Will intirely indifferent, has establish'd for all times, and for all places, Laws and Truths Eternal; and that at present they are immutable because of that Decree. But where do they see this Decree? Has God created any Being representative of it? Will they say it is a Modification of their Soul? They see clearly that Decree; for they have learn'd that Immutability is ascertain'd to Eternal Truths and Laws: But where is it that they see it? Certainly if they see it not in God, they see it not at all. For that [Page] Decree can be no where but in God, nor can it be seen but where he is. The Philosophers cannot then be certain of any thing, unless they consult God, and are answer'd by him. 'Tis in vain for them to exclaim: and they must either yield or hold their Peace.

But after all, that Decree is an ungrounded Imagination. When we think on Order and Eternal Laws and Truths, we do not naturally enquire the Cause; for they have none. We do not clearly see the necessity of this Decree, nor do we think immediately upon it: On the contrary we perceive evidently by a simple view, that the nature of numbers, and intelligible Ideas is immutable, necessary, and independent. We see clearly that it is absolutely necessary for 2 times 4 to be 8, and that the square of the Diagonal of a square is double to that square. If we doubt of the absolute necessity of these Truths, 'tis because we turn our back upon their Light, reason upon a false Principle, and search for their nature, their Immutability; and independance out of themselves. Thus the Decree for the Immutability of these Truths is a fiction of the mind, which supposing it sees not what it sees in the Wisdom of God; and knowing him to be the cause of all things, thinks it self oblig'd to imagine a Decree to ascertain immutability to these Truths, which it cannot choose but acknowledge to be immutable. But this Supposition is false, and we ought to beware of it. 'Tis only in the Wisdom of God, that we see Eternal, immutable, and necessary Truths: nor can we see any where else the Order which God himself is oblig'd to follow, as I have said before: The mind is made for that Wisdom, and in one sence it can see nothing else. For if it can see the Creatures, 'tis because He whom it sees, though in a very imperfect manner, during this life, comprehends them all in the immensity of his Being, in an intelligible manner, and proportionate to the mind, as I have shown in another place.

If we had not in our selves the Idea of Infinite, and if we saw not all things by the natural union of our mind with universal, and infinite Reason, it seems evident, that we could not have liberty to think on all things: For the mind cannot desire to consider things except it has some Idea of them, and it is not in its Power to think actually on any thing but what it may desire to think on. And so we shall cashier Man of his Liberty of thinking on All, if we separate his mind from him who comprehends all. Again: since we can love nothing but what we see, if God should only give us particular Ideas, it is manifest he would so determine all the Motions of our Will, that it would be necessary for us to Love only particular Beings. For in brief, if we had not the Idea of infinite, we could not love it: and if those who positively affirm they have no Idea of God, speak as they think, I scruple not to affirm they have never lov'd God, for nothing seems certainer to me, than that nothing can be the Object of our Love, which is not of our conception.

Lastly, If Order, and Eternal Laws were not immutable, by the necessity of their nature, the clearest and strongest proofs of Religion would, I question not, be destroy'd in their Principle, as well as Liberty, and the most certain Sciences. For it is evident, that the Christian Religion which proposes JESUS CHRIST as a Mediator, and Restorer, supposes the Corruption of nature, by original Sin. But what proof can we have of this Corruption? The flesh wars, you will say, against the Spirit, has brought it into subjection, and tyrannizes over it. This I grant. But this, says a Libertine, is no Disorder. This is as it pleas'd God; who ordain'd it so; who is the Master of his own decrees; and who constitutes what Order he thinks fit amongst his Creatures. How shall it be prov'd that 'tis a Disorder for Minds to be subjected to Bodies, unless we have a clear Idea of Order, and necessity, and know, that God himself is oblig'd to follow it, by a necessary Love which he bears to himself? But farther, supposing that Order depends on a free Decree of God, we must still have recourse to him to be inform'd of it: God must nevertheless be consulted, notwithstanding the aversion which some of the Learned have, to apply to him; and this truth must still be granted, that we have need of God to be instructed. But that suppos'd free Decree which is the cause of Order, is a meer fiction of mind for the Reasons I have given.

If it be not a necessary Order that Man should be made for his Author, and that his will should be conformable to Order, or to the essential and necessary will of God: If it be not true that Actions are good or ill, because agreeable or repugnant to an immutable and necessary Order, and that this same order requires that the Good should be rewarded, and the Evil punish'd: Last of all, if all Men have not naturally a clear Idea of Order, even of such an one as God himself cannot will the contrary to what it prescribes, (since God cannot will Disorder) certainly I can see nothing but Universal Confusion. For what is there to be blam'd in the most infamous and unjust actions of the Heathens, to whom God has given no Laws? What will be the reason that will dare to judge them, if there be no supream reason that condemns them?

There is a Poet who says, 'tis impossible to distinguish Justice from Injustice:Nec natura potest justo secernere iniquum. Lucretius, Diogenes▪ and a Philosopher that will have it an infirmity, to blush or be asham'd for infamous actions. These and the like Paradoxes are often asserted in the heat of Imagination, and in the transport of the Passions. But how can we condemn these Opinions, if there be not an Universal and Necessary Order, Rule, or Reason, which is also present to those who can retire into themselves? We fear not on several occasions to judge others, and also our selves: but by what Authority should we do it, if the inward Reason that judges, when we seem to pronounce Sentence against others and our selves, be not supream, and common to all men?

But if this Reason were not present to those who retreat into their own Breast; and if the Heathens too, had not naturally some union with the order we speak of; upon the score of what Sin or Disobedience could they be reckon'd culpable, and by what Justice could God punish them? This I say, upon a Prophet's teaching me that God is willing to And now O Inhabitants of Jerusalem, judge betwixt me and my Vineyard. Isa. 5.3 make Men the Arbiters betwixt [Page] him and his People, provided they determine by the immutable, and necessary order of Justice. Nero kill'd his Mother, it is true: But in what has he done amiss? He follow'd the natural Motion of his Hatred: God gave him no Precept to the contrary: the Laws of the Jews were not made for him. You'll say perhaps that such actions are restrain'd by the Natural Law, and that was known to him: But what proof can you have of it? For my own part I agree to it; because indeed this is an irresistible Proof for an Immutable, and Necessary Order; and for the Knowledge which every Mind has of it, and that so much more clear, as it is more united to Universal Reason, and less sensible to the impression of the Senses and Passions; In a word, as it is more reasonable. But 'tis requisite that I explain as clearly as possibly I can, the sense I have about Natural, or Divine Order and Law. For the difficulty that is found to embrace my Opinion, proceeds, it may be, from the want of a distinct conception of my meaning.

'Tis certain that God comprehends in himself, after an intelligible manner, the Perfections of all the Beings he has created, or can create; and that by these intelligible Perfections, he knows the Essence of all things, as by his own Wills he knows their Existence. Which perfections are likewise the immediate Object of the Mind of Man, for the Reasons I have given. Therefore the intelligible Ideas, or the Perfections which are in God, which represent to us what is external to him, are absolutely necessary and immutable. But Truths are nothing but relations of Equality, or Inequality, that are found between these Intelligible Beings, since it is only true that 2 times 2 are 4, or that 2 times 2 are not 5, because there is a Relation of Equality between 2 times 2 and 4, and of Inequality between 2 times 2 and 5. Therefore Truths are as immutable, and necessary as Ideas. It has ever been a truth, that 2 times 2 are 4, and 'tis impossible it should ever be false: which is visible, without any Necessity, that God, as supream Legislator, should have establish'd these Truths, so,Art. 6. & 8. as is said by M. des Cartes, in his Answer to the six Objections.

We easily comprehend then what is Truth, but Men find some difficulty to conceive what is this immutable, and necessary Order: what is this Natural, and Divine Law which God necessarily wills, and which the Righteous likewise will. For a Man's Righteousness consists in his Loving Order, and in his conforming his Will in all things to it: as that which makes a Sinner in his disliking Order in some things, and willing that it should conform to his Desires. Yet methinks these things are not so mysterious, as is imagin'd; and I am perswaded all the difficulty that is found in them proceeds from the trouble the mind is at to aspire to abstract, and Metaphysical Thoughts. Here then is in part what are my Thoughts of Order.

'Tis evident that the perfections which are in God representative of created, or possible Beings, are not all Equal: That those for Example which represent Bodies, are less noble, than others that represent Spirits; and that even in those which represent only Bodies, or Spirits, there are degrees of perfection, greater and lesser ad infinitum. This is clearly, and easily conceiv'd, though it be hard to reconcile the simplicity of the Divine Essence, with that variety of Intelligible Ideas, included in his Wisdom. For 'tis evident, that if all the Ideas of God were equal, he could see no difference between his Works; since he cannot see his Creatures, save in that which is in himself, representing them: And if the Idea of a Watch which shows the Hour, with all the different Motions of the Planets, were no perfecter than that of another, which only points to the hour, or than that of a Circle and a Square, a Watch would be no perfecter than a Circle. For we can judge of the Perfection of Works, only by the Perfection of the Ideas we have of them: and if there was no more understanding, or sign of Wisdom, in a Watch, than a Circle, it would be as easie to conceive the most complicated Machines, as a Square, or a Circle.

If then it be true, that God is the Vniversal Being, who includes in Himself all Beings, in an intelligible manner, and that all these intelligible Beings which have in God a necessary Existence, are not equally perfect; 'tis evident, there will be between them an Immutable and Necessary Order, and that as there are Eternal and necessary Truths, because there are Relations of Magnitude between intelligible Beings, there must likewise be an immutable and necessary Order, by reason of the Relations of Perfection, that are between these Beings. 'Tis therefore an Immutable Order, that Spirits should be nobler than Bodies, as it is a necessary Truth, that 2 times 2 should be 4, or that 2 times 2 should not be 5.

But hitherto immutable Order seems rather a Speculative Truth, than a necessary Law; For if Order be consider'd but as we have just now done; we see, for Example, that it is True, that Minds are more noble than Bodies: but we do not see that this Truth is at the same time an Order, which has the force of a Law, and that there is an Obligation of preferring Minds before Bodies. It must then be consider'd, that God loves himself, by a necessary Love; and therefore has a greater degree of love for that which in him represents, or includes a greater degree of perfection, than for that which includes a less. So that if we will suppose an Intelligible Mind to be a thousand times perfecter, than an Intelligible Body, the love wherewith God loves Himself, must necessarily be a thousand times greater for the former, than for the latter. For the Love of God is necessarily proportion'd to the Order which is between the intelligible Beings, that he includes. Insomuch that the Order which is purely Speculative, has the force of a Law in respect of God himself, supposing, as is certain, that God loves himself Necessarily. And God cannot love Intelligible Bodies, more than Intelligible Minds, though he may love created Bodies better than created Minds, as I shall show by and by.

Now that immutable Order, which has the force of a Law in regard of God himself, has visibly the force of a Law in reference to us. For this Order we know, and our natural love comports with it, when we retire into our selves, and our Senses and Passions leave us to our Liberty; In a [Page] word, when our Self-love does not corrupt our Natural. Being we are made for God, and that 'tis impossible for us to be quite separate from him, we discern in him this Order, and we are naturally invited to love it. For 'tis His Light which enlightens us, and his Love which animates us, though our Senses and Passions obscure this Light, and determine against Order, the Impression we receive to love according to it. But in spite of Concupiscence which conceals this Order, and hinders us from following it, it is still an essential, and indispensable Law to us; and not only to us, but to all created Intilligences, and even to the Damn'd. For I do not believe they are so utterly estrang'd from God, as not to have a faint Idea of Order; as not to find still some beauty in it; and even to be ready to conform to it in some particular Instances, which are not prejudicial to Self-Love.

Corruption of Heart consists in Opposition to Order. Therefore Malice or Corruption of Will, being not equal, even among the Damn'd, it is plain, they are not all equally opposite to Order, and that they do not hate it in all cases, unless in consequence of their Hatred to God. For as no one can hate Good consider'd barely as such, so no one can hate Order, but when it seems to thwart his Inclinations. But though it seem contrary to our Inclinations, it nevertheless retains the force of a Law, which Condemns, and also punishes us, by a Worm that never dies.

Now then we see what Order is, and how it has the strength of a Law, by that necessary Love which God has for himself. We conceive how this Law comes to be general for all Minds, God not excepted, and why it is necessary, and absolutely indispensible. Lastly, we conceive, or we may easily conceive in general, that it is the Principle of all Divine and Humane Laws, and that 'tis according to this Law that all Intelligences are judg'd, and all Creatures dispos'd in the respective rank that belongs to them.

I acknowledge it is not easie to explain all this in particular, and I venture not to undertake it. For should I go to show the Connexion particular Laws have with the general, and account for the agreement which certain manners of acting have to Order, I should be forc'd to engage in Difficulties, that it may be I could not resolve, and which would lead me out of sight of my subject.

Nevertheless if it be consider'd that God neither has, nor can have any other Law, than his own Wisdom, and the necessary Love he has for it, we shall easily judge, that all Divine Laws must depend on it: And if it be observ'd that he has made the World with reference only to that Wisdom, and Love, since he acts only for Himself; we shall not doubt but all natural Laws must tend to the Preservation, and Perfection of this World, according to indispensable Order, and by their dependance on necessary Love. For the Wisdom and Will of God regulates all things.

There is no need I should explain at present, this Principle more at large: what I have already said being sufficient to infer this Consequence, That in the first institution of Nature it was Impossible for Minds to be subjected to Bodies. For since God cannot act without Knowledge and against his Will, he has made the World by his Wisdom, and by the motion of his Love: He has made all things by his Son, and in his Holy Spirit, as we are taught in Scripture. Now in the Wisdom of God, Minds are perfecter than Bodies, and by the necessary Love God has for himself, he prefers what is more perfect to what is less so. Therefore it is not possible that Minds should be subject to Bodies in the first institution of Nature. Otherwise it must be said, that God in creating the World, has not follow'd the Rules of his Eternal Wisdom, nor the Motions of his natural and necessary Love: which not only is inconceivable, but involves a manifest contradiction.

True it is that at present the created Mind is debas'd below a material and sensible Body, but that's because Order considered as a necessary Law, will have it so. 'Tis because God loving himself by a necessary Love, which is always his Inviolable Law, cannot love Spirits that are repugnant to him, nor consequently prefer them to Bodies, in which there is nothing evil, nor in the hatred of God. For God loves not Sinners in themselves. Nor would they subsist in the Universe but through JESUS CHRIST. God neither preserves them, nor loves them,See the Fifth Dialogue of Christian Conversations. but that they may cease to be Sinners, through the Grace of CHRIST JESUS: or that, if they remain eternally Sinners, they may be eternally condemned, by immutable and necessary Order, and by the Judgment of our LORD, by vertue of whom they subsist for the Glory of the Divine Justice: for without Him they would be annihilated. This I say by the way, to clear some difficulties that might remain touching what I said elsewhere about Original Sin, or the general Corruption of Nature.

'Tis, if I mistake not, a very useful reflection to consider that the Mind has but two ways of knowing Objects. By Light and by Sensation. It sees them by Light, when it has a clear Idea of them, and when by consulting that Idea it can discover all the properties whereof they are capable. It sees things by Sensation, when it finds not in it self their clear Idea to consult it; and so cannot clearly discover their properties; but only know them by a confus'd Sensation without Light and Evidence. 'Tis by Light and a clear Idea the mind sees the Essences of things, Numbers and Extension: 'Tis by a confus'd Idea, or Sensation, that it judges of the Existence of Creatures, and knows its own.

What the Mind perceives by Light, or by a clear Idea, it perceives in a most perfect manner: moreover, it sees clearly that all the Obscurity, or Imperfection of its Knowledge proceeds from its own Weakness and Limitation, or from want of Application, and not from the Imperfection of the Idea it perceives. But what the mind perceives by Sensation is never clearly known: not for want of any Application on part of the Mind, (for we always are very applicative to what we feel,) but by the defectiveness of the Idea, which is extreamly obscure and confus'd.

Hence we may conclude that it is in God, or in an immutable nature, that we see all that we know by Light, or a clear Idea; not only because we discover by Light, only numbers Extension, and the Essences of Beings, which depend not on a free Act of God, as I have already said; but also [Page] because we know these things in a very perfect manner, and we should even know them in an infinitely perfect manner, if our thinking Capacity were infinite, since nothing is wanting to the Idea that represents them. We ought likewise to conclude, that we see in our selves whatever we know by Sensation. However, this is not, as if we could produce in our selves any new modification, or that the sensations, or modifications of our Soul could represent the Objects, on occasion whereof God excites them in us: But only that our Sensations which are not distinguished from our selves, and consequently cannot represent any thing distinct from us, may nevertheless represent the existence of Beings, or cause us to judge that they exist. For God raising Sensations in us upon the presence of Objects, by an action that has nothing sensible, we fancy we receive from the Object not only the Idea which represents its essence, but also the Sensation which makes us judge of its existence: For there is always a pure Idea, and a confused Sensation in the Knowledge we have of things as actually existing, if we except that of God, and of our own Soul. I except the Existence of God. For this we know by a pure Idea, and without Sensation, since it depends not on any cause, and is included in the Idea of a necessary Being, as the Equality of Diameters is included in the Idea of a Circle. And I except the Existence of our Soul; because we are inwardly conscious that we Think, Will, and Feel: and have no clear Idea of our Soul, as I have sufficiently explained in the seventh Chapter of the second Part of the third Book, and elsewhere.

These are some of the Reasons which we have to add to those already given, to prove that all our Light is deriv'd to us from God, and that the immediate and direct Object of our clear and evident notices is an immutable, and necessary Nature: Some Objections are usually made against this Opinion; which I shall now endeavour to solve.

Against what has been said, that none but God enlightens us, and that we see all things in him. OBJECTION I.

OUR Soul thinks because it is her Nature. God in creating her gave her the faculty of thinking: and she needs nothing more. But if any thing else is wanting, let us stick to what Experience teaches us of our senses, which is, that they are the manifest causes of our Ideas. 'Tis an ill way of Philosophizing to argue against Experience.

ANSWER.

I cannot but admire that the Cartesian Gentlemen, who with so much reason reject and scorn the general Terms of Nature and faculty should so willingly employ them on this occasion. They cry out against a Man that shall say the Fire burns by its nature, and converts certain Bodies into Glass by a natural Faculty: And yet some of them fear not to say that the Humane Mind produces the Ideas of all things in it self by its nature, and because it has a thinking faculty. But be it spoken without offence, these words are no more significative in their Mouths, than in the Peripateticks.

I know very well that the Soul is capable of thinking. But I know likewise that extension is capable of Figures: The Soul is capable of Will as matter is of Motion. But as it is false that matter though capable of figure, and motion, has in it self a force, faculty, or nature by which it can move it self, and give it self now a round figure, and anon a square one; so though the Soul be naturally, and essentially capable of Knowledge, and Will, it is false that she has Faculties whereby she can produce in her Ideas, or motion towards good. There is a great difference between being Moveable, and self moving. Matter is by its nature moveable, and capable of Figures; nor can it subsist without a figure. But it neither moves it self, nor shapes it self, nor has it any faculty to do it. The Mind is of its nature capable of motion, and Ideas I acknowledge. But it neither moves, nor enlightens its self. But 'tis God that does all in Minds, as well as in Bodies.

Can we say that God effects the changes that happen in matter, and that he causes not those which occur in the Mind?See the first Illustration. Is this to give to God the things that are his, to leave these latter sort of Beings to their own management? Is he not equally Lord of all things? Is he not the Creator, Preserver, and true mover of Minds as well as Bodies? Certainly he makes all, both Substances, Accidents, Beings, and Modes of Being. For in short, he knows all: But he knows nothing but what he does. We therefore streighten him in his Knowledge, if we limit him in his Action.

But if it must be said that Creatures have such faculties as are commonly conceived, and that natural Bodies have a Nature which is the Principle of their Motion and Rest, as says Aristotle and his Followers: This indeed overthrows all my Ideas; but yet I will rather agree to it, than say the Mind enlightens it self. Men may say that the Soul has the force of moving diversly the Limbs of her Body, and of communicating to them Sense and Life: They may say, if they please, that it is she that gives heat to the Blood, motion to the Spirits! and to the rest of her Body, its Bulk, Situation and Figure: Only let them not say that the Mind gives Light and Motion to it self. If God works not all, let us allow him at least to do what is Noblest and Perfectest in the World. And if Creatures do any thing, let them move Bodies, and range and posture them as they think fit: But let them never act upon Minds.

We will say (if that will serve) that Bodies move each other, after they have been mov'd themselves [Page] or rather will sit down ignorant of the different Dispositions of matter as not concerning us: But let not our Minds be ignorant whence proceeds the Light that enlightens them: Let them know from what hand they receive all that can make them more happy, or more perfect, let them acknowledge their dependence in its whole extent, and know, that whatever they actually have, God gives them every moment; for as says a great Father upon another Subject,Est quippe sup [...]rb [...]a▪ & pecc [...]um maximum, uti da [...]is, ta [...]quam innaris. S Bern. de diligendo Deo. 'Tis a very criminal Pride to use the gifts of God, as our own innate Perfections. Above all let us take heed of imagining that the Senses instruct Reason, that the Body enlightens the Mind, that the Soul receive of the Body what it wants it self. We had better believe our selves independent, than to believe we truly depend on Bodies. 'Tis much better to be our own Masters, than to seek for Masters among inferior Creatures. But we had much better submit our selves to Eternal Truth, which assures us in the Gospel, that none else is our Instructor; than to believe the Testimony of our Senses, or of some Men, who presume to talk to us as our Teachers. Experience (whatever may be said,) does not countenance prejudices. For our Senses, no less than our Teachers after the Flesh, are only occasional causes of the Instruction which Eternal Wisdom infuses into our most inward Reason. But because this Wisdom enlightens us by an insensible Operation, we imagine it is our Eyes, or the words of those that verberate the Air against our Ears, who produce this Light, or pronounce that intelligible Voice which instructs us. And for this Reason, as I have said in another place, our LORD thought it not enough to instruct us in an intellible manner by his Divinity; unless he condescended also to inform us in a sensible way by his Humanity, thereby teaching us that he is every way our Master. And because we cannot easily retire into our selves, to consult him, in Quality of eternal Truth, immutable Order, intelligible Light, he has rendred Truth sensible by his Words, Order Amiable by his Example, Light Visible by a Body which breaks the force of its Lustre; and after all we are still so ungrateful, unjust, stupid and insensible, as to respect as our Masters, and that against his express prohibition, not only other Men, but it may be the most insensible and vilest Bodies.

OBJECTION II.

Since the Soul is more perfect than Bodies, how comes it that she cannot include in her that which represents them? Why may not the Idea of extension be one of her Modifications; 'tis true there is none but God who acts in her, and modifies her? But why must she see Bodies in God if she can see them in her own Substance, she is not material, it's confess'd. But God, though a pure Spirit, sees Bodies in himself; why then may not the Soul though Spiritual see Bodies by considering herself?

ANSWER.

Do not we see that there is this difference between God and the Humane Soul, that God is Being without restriction, Universal, Infinite Being, and the Soul is a sort of particular Being?This is omitted in some Editions. ['Tis a property of infinite to be at the same time one, and yet all things; compos'd as we may say of infinite perfections, and yet so simple that every perfection he possesses, includes all the other without any real distinction; for as every Divine perfection is infinite, it constitutes the whole Divine Essence; But the Soul since a limited Being cannot have extension in her without becoming material.] God includes in himself Bodies in an intelligible manner. He sees their Essences or Ideas, in his Wisdom; and their Existence in his Love, or in his Wills. This must necessarily be said, since God has made Bodies; and he knew what he made before any thing was created. But the Soul cannot see in her self what she does not contain: Nor can she see clearly what she does contain, but only has a confus'd Sensation of it. I explain my self.

The Soul does not include Intelligible extension, as one of her modes of Being: Because this extension is not any mode of Being but a true Being. We can conceive that Extension separately from any thing else, but we cannot conceive any modes of Being without perceiving the Subject, or Being whereof they are the modes. We perceive this extension without thinking on our mind, and we cannot conceive it to be any modification of our mind. This extension when circumscrib'd makes some figure, but the Limits of the mind cannot be figured. This extension having parts may be divided, at least in one sence, but we see nothing in the Soul that is divisible. This extension therefore that we see is no mode of the minds Existence, and therefore the mind cannot see it within it self. How can we see it in one species of Being all sorts of Beings? In one particular and finite Being, a Triangle in general, and infinite Triangles? For in fine, the Soul perceives a Triangle, or a Circle in general, though it be a Contradiction for the Soul to have a modification in general. The Sensations of Colour which the Soul ascribes to figures make them particular, because no modification of a particular Being can be general.

Surely we may affirm what we clearly conceive. But we clearly conceive that the Extension which we see is something distinct from our selves, therefore we may affirm, that this extension is not a modification of our Being, and that 'tis something actually distinct from us. For we must observe, that the Sun for instance that we see is not that we look upon. The Sun and all we see in the material World is not visible of it self, as I have formerly prov'd. The Soul can only see the Sun to which she is immediately united. But we have a clear Perception, and a distinct Sensation, that the Sun is something different from us. Therefore we speak against our Light, and against our Conscience, when we say the Soul sees all surrounding Bodies in her own modifications.

Pleasure, Pain, Savour, Heat, Colour, all our Sensations, and Passions, are the modifications of our Soul. But though they be so, do we clearly know them? Can we compare Heat with Savour, [Page] Odor with Colour? Can we discover what Relation there is between Red and Green? Or even between Green and Green? 'Tis not so with figures, we compare them with one another, we find out exactly their Proportions: We know precisely that the diagonal of a Square, multiplied into it self, makes a Square, that's double to the former, what Analogy is there between these intelligible Figures, which are most clear Ideas, with the modifications of our Soul, which are only confus'd Sensations? And why must it be pretended, that intelligible Figures cannot be perceived by the Soul, unless they be her modifications, since the Soul knows not any of her modifications by a clear Idea, but only by Conscience or internal Sense? As I have elsewhere prov'd, and shall prove again in the next Illustration. If we could not see the figures of Bodies, except in our selves, they would be on the contrary unintelligible to us: For we do not know our selves, but are darkness to our selves; and we must cast our Eye outward if we would behold our selves! And we shall never know what we are till we shall contemplate our selves in him who is our Light, and in whom all things become Light. For no where but in God material Beings are perfectly intelligible; but out of him the most Spiritual Substances are utterly invisible. The Idea of Extension, which we see in God, is most clear. But though we see not in God the Idea of our Soul, we are very conscious that we exist, and are sensible of what we actually have. But 'tis impossible to discover what we are, or any of the modifications we are capable of.

OBJECTION III.

In God there is nothing moveable: In him there is nothing Figured. If there be a Sun in the Intelligible World, that Sun is always equal to it self; whereas the visible Sun appears bigger when near the Horizon, than when remote from it, therefore it is not the Intelligible Sun we see. The case is the same in respect of other Creatures. Therefore we see not in God the Works of God.

ANSWER.

To give an Answer to all this we need only consider, that God includes within himself, an infinite intelligible Extension; For God knows Extension, in as much as he has made it, and he can know it no otherwise than in himself. Therefore as the mind may perceive part of that intelligible Extension, which God includes, it is certain it may perceive in God all Figures; for all finite Intelligible Extension is necessarily an intelligible Figure, since Figure is nothing but the termination of Extension. Moreover that Figure of intelligible and general Extension becomes sensible, and particular, by Colour, or some other sensible Quality, which the Soul ascribes to it; for the Soul almost always bestows her own Sensation upon a lively and affecting Idea. Thus there is no necessity, that there should be in God sensible Bodies, or Figures in Intelligible Extension, in order to our seeing them in God, or that God may see them himself, though he considers nothing but himself.

So likewise if it be conceived that a Figure of intelligible Extension, made sensible by Colour, should be taken, successively, from the different Parts of that same infinite Extension; or if it be conceiv'd that a Figure of Intelligible Extension may turn upon its Center, or successively approach another, we perceive the motion of a sensible or Intelligible Figure, though there be no motion in intelligible Extension. For God sees not the motion of Bodies in his Substance, or in the Idea he has of them in himself. But only by the knowledge he has of his own Wills relating to them. He sees their Existence only by that way, because his Will only gives Being to all things. The Wills of God change nothing in his Substance: nor do they move it: Perhaps Intelligible Extension is immoveable all manner of ways, even intelligibly. But though we see only this intelligible Extension, immoveable or otherwise, it seems moveable to us, because of the Sensation of Golour, or the confused Image remaining after the Sensation, which we successively annex to the several parts of Intelligible Extension, that furnishes us with an Idea, when we see or imagine the motion of any Body.

From what I have said, we may understand why we see the Intelligible Sun, sometimes greater and sometimes less, though it be always the same with respect to God. For all that is requir'd to this, is but to see, one while, a greater part of Intelligible Extension, and another while a less, and to have a lively Sensation of Light, to bestow upon that part of Extension. Now as all the Parts of Intelligible Extension are all of the same nature, they may all indifferently represent any Body whatever.

It must not be imagin'd that the Intelligible World has any such relation to the material and sensible, that there must be for instance an Intelligible Sun, an intelligible Horse, and an Intelligible Tree destin'd to represent to us the Sun, an Horse and a Tree; and that all those who see the Sun necessarily see this pretended intelligible Sun. All intelligible Extension may be conceived Circular, or to have an intelligible Figure of an Horse, or a Tree, and so may serve to represent the Sun, an Horse and Tree, and consequently be a Sun, a Horse and a Tree in the intelligible World, and likewise to become a sensible and visible Sun, Horse, and Tree, if the Soul has any Sensation occasion by Bodies to affix to these Ideas.

Therefore when I said that we saw different Bodies by the knowledge we have of the Perfections of God which represent them: I did not mean precisely that there were certain particular Ideas in God to represent each Body in particular; and that we saw such a particular Idea, in seeing such a particular Body. For it is certain we could not see this Body sometimes great, and sometimes small, [Page] one while round, and another while square, if we saw it by a particular Idea, that was always the same. But I say we see all things in God, by the application God makes of intelligible Extension to our mind, in a thousand different ways, and that thus intelligible Extension includes in it all the Perfections, or rather differences, of Bodies; because of the different Sensations, the Soul bestows upon the Ideas which she receives occasionally from them. I have discours'd after another manner; but it should be concluded, that was only to make some of my proofs more forcible and sensible; and it should not be gather'd from what I have here said, that the foundation of those proofs is ruin'd. I could give the reasons of the different ways wherein I explain my self, if I thought it necessary.

I venture not to dive deeper into this Subject for fear of speaking things either too Abstract, or Uncommon: Or, if that seem better, for fear of hazarding to speak things which I neither know, nor am capable of discovering: Only let me produce those passages of Scripture which seem contrary to what I have now establish'd, which I shall endeavour to Explain.

OBJECTION.

St. John in his Gospel, and in the first of his Epistles, says, No man hath seen God at any time▪ Ch. 1.18. Ch. 4. [...] ▪ The only begotten Son who is in the bosom of the father he hath declar'd him.

ANSWER.

I answer, that 'tis not properly to see God, to see the Creatures in him. 'Tis not to see his essence to see the essences of Creatures in his Substance; as it is not to see a Mirrour, to view only the Objects it represents.

Not but that we might say with St. Paul, St. Austin, St. Gregory, Cor. 13. and many other Fathers of the Church, that we see God in this Life, though in a very imperfect Manner. The Words of St. Gregory in his Morals upon Job, are these. A luce incorruptibili caligo nos nostrae corruptionis obscurat; L. 31. c. 20 cum (que) & videri aliquatenus potest & tamen videri lux ipsa sicuti est non potest, quam longe sit indicat. Quam si mens non cerneret, nec quia longe esse videret. Si autem perfecte jam cerneret, profecto hanc quasi per caliginem non videret. Igitur quia nec omnino cernitur, nec rursum omnino non cernitur, recte dictum est, quia a longe Deus videtur. Though St. Gregory in explaining this passage of Job, Oculi ejus à longe prospiciunt says, that in this Life we only see God a far of: This is not as if God were not most present to us; but that the Clouds of our Concupiscence conceal him from us. Caligo nos nostrae corruptionis obscurat. For in other places, he with St. Austin compares the light of God, which is God himself, to the Light of the Sun which surrounds us, and which we see not because we are blind, or shut our Eyes when dazled with its Lustre. In Sole oculos clausos tenemus.

St. Austin goes farther yet than his faithful Disciple St. Gregory. For though he confesses that we know God but in a very imperfect manner at present, yet he affirms, in several places,Propinquior nobis qui fecit, quam multa quae facta sunt. In illo enim vivimus, movemur, & sumus. Istorum autem plera (que) remota sunt à mente nostra propter dissimilitudinem sui generis. Recte culpantur in libro sapientia inquisitores▪ hujus saeculi. Si enim tantum, inquit, potuerunt valere ut possent aestimare saeculum, quomodo ejus Dominum, non facilius invenerunt? Ignota enim sunt fundamenta oculis nostris, & qui fundavit [...]erram propinquat mentibus nostris. De Gen. ad litt. l. 5. ch. 16, De Trinitate, lib. 8. ch. 8. that God is better known to us, than those things we fancy we know best. He that has made all things, (says he) is nearer us, than his Creatures; For in him we have Life, and Motion and Being, Most of Created Beings are not proportionate to our Mind, because they are corporeal, and of a sort distinguish'd from it. And lower: The Inquirers into the secrets of Nature, are justly condemn'd in the Book of Wisdom; for if they have been able to penetrate what is most secret and unreveal'd to Men, with how much greater ease might they have discover'd the Author and Sovereign of the Vniverse; The Foundations of the Earth are hid from our Eyes: But he that laid the Foundations is present to our Minds. And for this Reason that Holy Father believes, that he that has Charity knows God better than he knows his Brother. Ecce (says he) jam potest Notiorem Deum habere quam Fratrem. Plane Notiorem, quia praesentiorem: Notiorem quia interiorem: Notiorem quia certiorem. I bring not any other proofs of St. Austin's Opinion: Those who desire them, may find all sorts in that learn'd Collection Ambrosius Victor has made of them, in the second Volume of his Christian Philosophy.

But to return to the passage of St. John, No man has seen God at any time I believe the design of the Evangelist, in affirming no Man has seen God, is to state the difference between the Old and New Testament. Between JESUS CHRIST and the Patriarchs and Prophets, of whom it is written, that they have seen God. For Moses, Jacob, Isaiah, and others, saw God only with corporeal Eyes, and under an unknown Form: They have not seen him in himself, Deum nemo vidit unquam; But the only Son, who is in the Bosom of the Father, has instructed us in what He has seen. Vnigenitus qui est in sinu Patris: Ipse enarravit.

OBJECTION.

St. Paul writing to Timothy, says, that God inhabits inaccessible Light which no man hath seen, 1 Tim. 16.16▪ nor can see if the Light of God cannot be approach'd to, we cannot see all things in it▪

ANSWER.

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St. Paul cannot be contrary to St. John who assures us, that JESUS CHRIST is the true Light that lightens all Men who come into the World. For the mind of Man, which many of the St. Cyrill of Alexandria upon the words of St. John, Erat lux vera. St. Aug. Tr. 14. upon St. John, St. Greg. c. 27. upon 28 of Job. Fathers call Illuminated, or Enlightned Light. Lumen Illuminatum, is Enlightned only with the Light of Eternal Wisdom, which the Fathers therefore call Illuminating Light, Lumen Illuminations. David advises to approach to God, and to be englightned by him; Accedite ad eum & illuminamini. But how can we be enlightned by it, if we cannot see the Light by which we are to be enlightned? Therefore when St. Paul says, that Light is inaccessible, he means to Inaccessibilem dixit; sed omni homini [...]umana sapienti: Scriptura quippe sacra omnes carnalium sectatores humanitatis nomine notare solet. St. Greg. in cap. 28. Job. Carnal Man who cannot retire into himself to contemplate it: Or if he speaks of all Men, 'tis because there are none but are disturb'd from the perfect Contemplation of Truth, because our Body incessantly troubles the attension of our mind.

OBJECTION.

Ex. 33▪20.God answering Moses when he desired to see him, says, Thou canst not see my Face; for there shall no man see Me and live.

ANSWER.

It is evident that the literal sence of this Passage is not contrary to what I have said hitherto. For I do not suppose it possible to see God in this life, as Moses desired to see Him. However, I Answer, that we must die to see God: For the Soul unites herself to Truth proportionably as she quits her union with the Body: Which is a Truth that cannot be sufficiently consider'd. Those who follow the Motions of their passions; those whose Imagination is defil'd, with the enjoyment of Pleasures; Those who have strengthned the Union, and Correspondence of their Mind with their Body:Neither is it found in the land of the living. Job 28.13. In a word, those who live cannot see God: For they cannot retire into themselves to consult the Truth. Happy therefore are they who have a pure Heart, a disengag'd Spirit, a clear Imagination, who have no dependance on the World, and hardly any on the Body. In a word, happy are the Dead, for they shall see God. Wisdom has publish'd it openly upon the Mountain; and Wisdom whispers it secretly to those who consult Her by retiring into themselves.

Those who are constantly quickning in them the Concupiscence of Pride, who are indefatigably forming a thousand Ambitious designs, who unite, and even enslave their Soul, not only to the Body, but all surrounding Objects: In a word, those who Live not only the Life of the Body, but also that of the World, cannot see God: For WISDOM inhabits the most retired and inward Reason, whilst they perpetually expand themselves abroad.

But such as constantly deaden the Activity of their Senses, who faithfully preserve the Purity of their Imagination, who couragiously resist the Motions of their Passions; In a word, that break all those Bonds whereby others continue enchain'd to the Body, and sensible grandeur; may discover infinite Truths, and see that Wisdom which is bid from the Eyes of all Living. They after a sort do cease to live when they retire into themselves:Job 28.31. They relinquish the Body when they draw near to Truth. For the mind of Man obtains that Site and Position between God and Bodies, that it can never quit the one but it must approach the other. It cannot draw towards God but it must remove from Bodies, nor pursue Bodies but it must recede from God: But because we cannot give an absolute Farewell to the Body, till Death makes the separation, I confess it impossible, till then, to be perfectly united to God. We may at present, as says St. Paul, see God confusedly as in a Glass,Now we see through a Glass darkly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, &c. 1 Cor. 13.2. but we cannot see him face to face. Non videbit me homo & vivet. Yet we may see him in part, that is, imperfectly and confusedly.

It must not be imagin'd, that life is equal in all Men living, or that it consists in an indivisible point. The Dominion of the Body over the Mind, which withstands our uniting our selves with God by the Knowledge of Truth, is susceptible of more and less. The Soul is not equally in all Men united by Sensations to the Body, which she animates, nor by Passions to those, her Inclinations carry her to: And there are some who so mortifie the Concupiscence of Pleasure, and of Pride within them, that they scarce retain any Commerce with their Body, or the World; and so are as it were Dead: St. Paul is a great instance hereof, who chastis'd his Body, and brought it to subjection; who was so humbled, and destroy'd, that he thought no longer on the World, nor the World on him: For the World was dead, and crucified to him, as he was dead and crucified in the World. And on this account it was, says St. Gregory, that he was so sensible to Truth, and so prepar'd to receive those Divine Lights which are included in his Epistles; which however all glorious and splendid, make no impression save on those who mortifie their Senses and Passions by his Example.The natural Man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him. 1 Cor. c. 2.14. Ad Moysen dicitur, non videbit me homo & vivet, ac si aperte diceretur: Nullus unquam Deum spiritualiter videt qui mundo carnaliter vivit. St. Greg. upon the 28. of Job ch. 28. For as he says himself, the carnal and sensible Man cannot comprehend Spiritual things: [Page] Because Worldly address the tast of the Age, to fineness of Wit, the Nicety, the Liveliness, the Beauty of Imagination, whereby we live to the World, and the World to us, infuse into our Mind an incredible stupidity and a sad insensibility to all those Truths which cannot be perfectly conceiv'd, unless in the silence and calm of the Senses and Passions.

We must therefore desire that Death which unites us to God, or at least the image of that Death, that is, the Mysterious Sleep in which all our External Senses being lock'd up, we may hear the Voice of internal Truth, which is never audible but in the silence of the Night, when Darkness involves sensible Objects, and when the World is as it were dead to us. Thus it is, says St. Gregory, that the Spouse heard the Voice of her beloved in her sleep, when she said, I sleep, but my heart wakes; Outwardly I slumber but my heart watches within: For having no life nor sense with reference to External Objects. I become extreamly sensible to the Voice of inward Truth, which accosts me, in my inmost reason. Hinc est quod sponsa in canticis canticorum sponsi vocem quasi per somnium audierat, quae dicebat, Ego dormio, & cor meum vigilat. Ac si diceret, dum exteriores sensus ab [...]ujus vitae sollicitudinibus sopio, vacante mente, vivacius interna cognosco. Foris dormio, sed intus cor vigilat: quia dum exteriora quasi non sentio, interiora solerter apprehendo. Bene ergo Eliu ait quod per somnium loquitur Deus. St. Gregory's Morals upon the 33. Ch. of Job.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Seventh CHAPTER of the Second PART of the Third BOOK. Where I prove, That we have no clear Idea of the Nature, or Modifications of our Soul.

I Have often said, and think sufficiently prov'd in the third Book, of the preceding Treatise, that we have no clear Idea, but only the Conscience, or inward Sensation of our Soul; and that therefore we have a much more imperfect knowledge thereof than we have of Extension.Answer to the fifth Objection against the second Meditation towards the end. Which to me seem'd so evident, that I did not think it necessary to prove it more at large. But the Authority of M. des Cartes, who possitively says, That the nature of the Mind is better known than that of any other thing, has so prepossess'd some of his Disciples, that what I have said upon that Subject, serves only to make them think me a weak Person unable to reach to, and hold fast abstracted Truths, which have nothing in them to welcome and retain the attention of their Contemplators.

I confess, I am extreamly Feeble, Sensible, and Heavy, and my Mind depends on my Body more ways than I can express. I know it: I feel it: and I continually labour to increase this knowledge I have of my self. For though we cannot help our being miserable; we ought at least to have the knowledge, and the sense of it; we ought at least, to be humbled, upon the sight of our inward Miseries, and to acknowledge the need we have of being deliver'd from this Body of Death which throws trouble and confusion into all the faculties of our Soul.

But yet the Question before us is so well proportion'd to the Mind, that I can see no need of any great Application to resolve it, and for that reason I did not insist upon it. For I think it may be affirm'd, that most Mens ignorance about the Soul, as of its distinction from the Body, of its Spirituality, Immortality, of its other properties, is sufficiently demonstrative, that we have no clear and distinct Idea of it.

It may be said that we have a clear Idea of Body, because we need but consult the Idea that represents it, to discover what Modifications it is capable of. We plainly see, that it may be either round or square, in Rest or Motion. We easily conceive, that a square may be divided into two Triangles, two Parallelograms, or two Trapezia. We never are at a stand what to answer to the demand, whether this or that be implied or denied in Extension, because the Idea of Extension being clear, we may easily, and by a bare perception, discover what it includes, and what it excludes.

But it does not appear to me that we have any such Idea of our Mind, as can discover when we consult it, the Modifications it will admit. Had we never felt either Pleasure or Pain, we could not tell whether our Soul were susceptible of either. If a Man had never eaten a Melon, felt Smart, or seen Red or Blue, he might have consulted long enough this pretended Idea of his Soul, before he could distinctly discover whether it was capable or not, of such Sensations or Modifications. I say farther, that though a Man actually feel Pain, or sees Colour, he cannot discover by a simple view, [Page] whether these Qualities belong to the Soul. He'll imagine that Pain is in the Body, which occasions him to suffer it, and that Colour is diffus'd upon the surface of Objects, though it be clearly conceiv'd, that these Objects are distinguish'd from the Soul.

To be satisfied whether or no sensible Qualities are Modes of the Mind's existence, this pretended Idea of the Soul is never consulted. On the contrary, the Cartesians themselves consult the Idea of Extension, and reason in this manner: Heat, Pain, Colour, cannot be Modifications of Extension: For this is capable but of different figures and Motions. Now there are but two kinds of Beings, Bodies and Minds. Therefore Heat, Pain and Colour, and all other sensible Qualities, are the Furniture of the Mind.

Whilst they are oblig'd to consult their Idea of Extension, to discover whether sensible Qualities are Modifications of their Soul; is it not evident they have no clear Idea of it? For otherwise would they ever bethink themselves of so indirect a Conduct, When a Philosopher would know whether Rotundity belongs to Extension, does he enquire into the Idea of the Soul, or any other besides that of Extension? Does he not see clearly in the same Idea of Extension, that Rotundity is a Modification of it? And would it not be extravagance in him to argue thus to be instructed? There are only two sorts of Beings, Minds and Bodies: Roundness is not a Modification of a Mind; therefore it is a Modification of a Body.

We discover then by a bare perception without Argumentation, and by the meer Application of the Mind to the Idea of Extension, that Roundness and every other Figure is a Modification belonging to Body, and that Pleasure, Pain, Heat, and all other sensible Qualities, are not Modifications of it. There can be no Question propos'd about what does, or does not appertain to Extension, but may be easily, readily, and boldly answer'd by the sole consideration of the Idea that represents it. All Men are agreed, in their notion, and beliefe upon this Point. For those who will have Matter capable of Thought, do not imagine this Faculty is to be attributed to i [...] because of Extension, being perswaded that Extension consider'd, precisely as such, cannot Think.

But Men are not so well agreed about what they are to think of the Soul, and her Modifications: for some there are, who fancy, that Pain, and Heat, or at least that Clour does not belong to her. And a Man would be laught at among some Cartesians, that should affirm, the Soul grows actually Blue, Red, Yellow, and that she is dyed with all the Colours of the Rain-Bow, when she contemplates it. There are many who doubt, and more that don't believe, that the Soul becomes formally stinking upon the smell of carrion; and that the tast of Sugar, Pepper, and Salt, are properties belonging to her. Where then is the clear Idea of the Soul that the Cartesians may consult it, and may all agree about the subject where Colours, Savours, Odours, ought to enter.

But though the Cartesians were agreed upon these difficulties, yet we were not to conclude from their agreement, that we have a clear Idea of the Soul: For if they agree at last that 'tis she which is actually Green, or Red, when a Man sees these Colours, yet this could not be concluded without a long train of Reasonings; they could not see it by a simple view, nor ever discover it by consulting the pretended Idea of the Soul, but rather by consulting that of the Body. They could not be certain, that sensible Qualities belong'd to the Soul, were it not because they did not belong to Extension, whereof they have a clear Idea. Nor could they ever convince of it such as, having little thought, are incapable of complicated Perceptions, or Reasonings; or rather such as cannot dwell upon the consideration of the clear Idea of Body, and who are apt to confound all things: And so there would be always, Clowns, Women, Children, and it may be some Scholars, and Doctors who would doubt of it. But Women, and Children, Learned and Unlearned, the most Intelligent and most stupid Persons, easily conceive, by their Idea of Extension, that it is susceptible of all sorts of Figures; they clearly comprehend that Extension is not capable of Pain, Savour, Odour, or any other Sensation, when they but faithfully and attentively consider the Idea only that represents it: For there is no sensible Quality included in it's representative Idea.

'Tis true, they may doubt whether Body is, or is not capable of admitting some Sensation, or sensible Quality: But then they understand by Body some other thing than Extension, and have no clear Idea of Body taken in this sense. But when des Cartes, or the Cartesians, whom I am concern'd with, maintain that the Soul is better known than Body, they mean only by Body, bare Extension. Which makes me admire how they can hold, that the nature of the Soul is clearer known than that of the Body, since the Idea of Body, or Extension, is so manifest, that all the World's agreed about what it contains, and what it excludes, whilst the Idea of the Soul is so confus'd, that the Cartesians themselves daily dispute, whether the Modifications of Colour appertain to it.

We know, (say these Philosophers, with their Master des Cartes) the nature of a substance so much more distinctly, as we know more of its Attributes. Now there is nothing whereof we know so many Attributes as of our Mind. Because as many as we know in other things we may put to the mind's account from its knowing them; and therefore its Nature is better known than that of any other thing.

But who is it that sees not a great deal of difference between knowing by a clear Idea and knowing by Conscience. When I know that 2 times 2 are 4, I know it very clearly; but I know not clearly what within me 'tis that knows it. I feel it, I confess; I know it by consciousness, or internal sense: But I have no clear Idea of it as I have of Numbers, whose Relations I can distinctly discover. I can reckon in my mind three properties, one of knowing that 2 times 2 are 4, another of knowing that 3 times 3 are 9, a third of knowing that 4 times 4 are 16. And these Properties, if you please, shall be different from one another, and so I may count an infinite number of Properties belonging to me. But I deny that we can clearly know the nature of the things that we can reckon thus.

[Page]It may be said that we have a clear Idea of a Being, and that we know its Nature, when we can compare it with others, which we likewise have a clear Idea of, or at least when we can compare together the Modifications incident to it. We have clear Ideas of Numbers, and of the parts of Extension, because we can compare these things together. As 2 may be compar'd with 4, 4 with 16, and every number, with any other: So likewise a square may be compar'd with a Triangle, a Circle with an Ellipsis, a Square and a Triangle with every other Square and Triangle; and thus a Man may clearly discover the relations these Figures, and these Numbers have to one another. But we cannot compare our Mind with other Beings, thereby to discover clearly their Relations; nor can we compare the Modifications of the Mind together. Can we clearly discover what Relation, or Proportion there is between Pleasure and Pain, Heat and Colour? Or to keep to Modifications of the same sort; can we determine exactly the Proportion between Green and Red, Yellow and Purple, or even between Purple and Purple? We see well enough that one is darker, or brighter than the other. But we know not evidently how much, nor what it is to be Darker or Brighter. We have then no clear Idea either of the Soul, or her Modifications; and though I see or have the sense of Colours, Tasts, Smells; yet I may say as I have done, that I know them not by a clear Idea, since I cannot clearly discover their Relations.

'Tis true I can discover the exact proportions betwen sounds: That a Diopason for instance is Double, that a Fifth is as 3 to 2, and that a Fourth is as 4 to 3. But I cannot know these proportions by the sensation I have of them. If I know that an Eighth or Diopason is double, 'tis because I have learn't, by Experience, that the same string sounds an Eighth, when having stricken it whole, I strike it presently again, dividing it into two equal parts, or because I know the number of Vibrations is double in equal time, or by some such way, and this because the Trepidations of the air, the Vibrations of the strings, and the string it self are things which may be compared by clear Ideas, and that we distinctly conceive what relations there can be between a string and it's parts, as likewise between the celerity of different Vibrations. But we cannot compare sounds betwixt themselves, or as they are sensible Qualities, and Modifications of the Soul; nor that way are their Proportions or Relations discoverable. And though Musicians distinguish very well the different concords, yet they do not distinguish their proportions by clear Ideas. By the ear only they judge by a clear Idea, or otherwise than by sensation. Therefore Musicians have no clear Idea of sounds, as they are sensations or Modifications of the Soul: And consequently we conceive not the Soul nor her Modifications by a clear Idea, but only by Conscience or internal sense.

Moreover we know not wherein consist those dispositions of the Soul, which facilitate her to act and represent Objects to her self. Nay we cannot conceive wherein such Dispositions might possibly consist. I say farther, that we cannot be positively assur'd by Reason, whether the meer Soul separate from the Body, or consider'd without relation to it, be capable of Habits or Memory. But how can we be ignorant of these things, if the nature of the Soul be better known to us than of the Body. 'Tis easily discern'd wherein that readiness consists, wherewith the animal Spirits flow into the Nerves, which they have often us'd to glide into; at least 'tis no trouble to discover, that whilst the condui [...]s of the Nerves are widened, and the Fibres recumbent after a particular manner, the Spirits may easily insinuate themselves. But what is it we can conceive capable of augmenting the Soul's Facility to act or think. For my part, I own, I cannot comprehend it: And in vain should I interrogate my self what these dispositions are; For I could give my self no answer, nor light upon the matter, though I have a most lively sense of that easiness, with which some Thoughts arise in me. And if I had no particular Reasons to induce me to believe that I really have such Dispositions, though I know them not in me; I should judge there neither was spiritual Habit, nor Memory in my Soul. But in short, seeing there is doubt and scruple about it, we have an infallible Symptom, that Men are not so enlightned as is pretended. For Doubt can never be reconcil'd to Evidence, and clear Ideas.

'Tis certain, that a Man of the greatest Understanding, cannot evidently know whether he deserves Hatred or Love, as speaks the Wiseman. My own consciousness of my self cannot satisfy me herein. St. Paul says indeed, his Conscience reproach'd him with nothing,Eccl. c. 9.1. I judge not mine own self. For I known nothing by my self, yet I am not hereby justified, but [...]e that judgeth me is the Lord 1 Cor. [...] 4.4. John 13.37. yet for all that he does not affirm he is justified; On the contrary he asserts he is not thereby justified▪ and that he dares not judge himself, since he that judges is the Lord. But having a clear Idea of Order, if we had another as clear of the Soul, from the inward feeling of our selves we should evidently know, whether she was conformable to Order. We should know whether we were Righteous or not, and we could exactly discover all our interiour Dispositions to Good and Evil, whenever we were conscious of them. But if we could know our selves just as we are, we should not be so subject to Presumption; And there is great likelihood that St. Peter would not have said to his Master whom he was not long after to deny, Why cannot I follow thee now? I will lay down my life for thy sake. Animam meam pro te ponam. For being inwardly conscious of his own Strength and good Will, he might have seen with Evidence, whether he had Resolution and Courage to conquer Death, or rather the insults of a silly Maid, and two or three Servants.

If the nature of the Soul be more known than any other. If the Idea we have of her be as clear as that we have of the Body, I ask only how it comes to pass that there are so many who confound her with it? Is it possible to confound two clear Ideas intirely different? Let us do justice to all Mankind: Those who dissent from our Opinion are as rational as our selves, they have the same Ideas of things, and are partakers in the same Reason. Why then do they confound what we distinguish? Do they use on other occasions to confound things▪ whereof they have clear Ideas? Do [Page] they ever confound two different numbers, or take a Square for a Circle? And yet the Soul differs more from the Body, than one of these Figures from the other; For they are two substances which are in nothing alike, and are confounded notwithstanding. Which must therefore proceed from some difficulty there is to discover their difference; from its not being observable by a simple perception; and from the Impossibility of concluding that one is not the other without Argument and Reasoning. It must come from hence, viz. That the Idea of Extension must be cautiously consulted, and Extension discover'd to be no Mode of Existence of a Body, but the Body it self, as being represented a subsisting Thing, and as the Principle and Foundation of whatever we conceive clearly in Bodies: And that so the Modes of which Body is capable, having no Proportion of sensible Qualities; the subject of these Qualities, or rather the Being of which they are Modes must needs be different from Body: For such like argumentation is requisite to prevent our confounding the Soul with the Body. But if we had a clear Idea of the Soul, as we have of Body, certainly we need not take these round-about ways to distinguish her from it. Since it would be discoverable by a simple view, and with as great ease as we see a Circle is not a Square.

I insist not longer upon proving that we know not the Soul nor her Modifications by clear Ideas. Survey our selves on what side soever we will; this sufficiently appears: And I had not added this to what I have said in the Search after Truth, if some Cartesians had not found fault with it. If this will not satisfy them, I shall expect they will make me sensible of this clear Idea, which I am not able to find in my self, do whatever I can to discover it.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Eighth CHAPTER of the Second PART of the Third BOOK. Of loose and general terms which signify nothing. How they are distinguish'd from others.

IN order to comprehend what I have said in some Places; how that they give not the reasons of things who explain them by Logical Terms, and General Ideas we need but consider; that whatever exists is reduc'd to Being, or Modes of Being; whatever Term signifies neither of these signifies nothing, and every Term that signifies not one or other of them distinctly, and in particular, signifies nothing distinct. This to me seems most clear and evident, but what is evident in it self, is not so to all the World. Words are the current Coin, wherewith Men pay themselves, and others. All Terms that are inoffensive to the Ear, have free Passport amongst them. And Truth comes so rarely into the Commerce of the World, that those who speak it, or hear it, have commonly no regard for it. The gift of Speech is the greatest of Talents; the language of Imagination is the surest of means; and a Memory charg'd with incomprehensible Terms will always make a splendid appearance, whatever the Cartesians may say of it.

When Men shall have no addiction but to Truth, they will be Cautious of what they say, they will carefully examine their own meaning, rejecting with scorn senseless and insignificant Terms, and closely adhering to clear Ideas. But when will the time come that Men shall love Truth only? We may say, when they shall depend no longer on their Body, when they shall have no necessary relation to sensible Objects, when they shall not any more corrupt one another, but faithfully consult their Master who instructs them in the recesses of their Reason. But this will never happen whilst we live on Earth.

However all Men are not equally indifferent for Truth. If there are some who speak without Reflection, and hear without distinction, and have no attention but to what affects them: there are others who industriously labour to inform themselves, and to convince others of the Truth. And to these chiefly I address my self, for at their Instance I entred on making these Remarks.

I say then that whatever is, whether it actually exists or not, and consequently whatever is intelligible is either a Being, or a Mode of Being. By Being I mean something of an absolute Nature, or that may be conceiv'd alone, as unrelated to any other thing. By Mode of Being I understand something relative, or that cannot be conceiv'd alone. Now there are two kinds of Modes of Being. The one consists in the Relation of the Parts of any Whole, to any Part of the same whole: The other in the Relation of one thing to another which makes not any Part of the same whole. The Roundness of wax is a Mode of Being of the former sort, as consisting in the Equality of Distance, [Page] which have all the Superficial parts to the central. The Motion or situation of the wax is a Mode of Being of the second sort: Which consists in the Relation the wax has to circumambient Bodies. I speak not of motion taken for the Moving Force; for it is plain, that that force neither is nor can be a Mode of Bodies existing, for conceive them Modified how we will, we cannot conceive them as a moving Force.

It being certain that whatever is intelligible, is either a Being, or a Mode of Being, it is as evident that every Term that signifies not one or other of these, signifies nothing; and that every Term that signifies not this or that particular Being, or Mode of Being, is obscure and confus'd; and consequently we cannot conceive either what others say to us, or we to others, if we have no distinct Ideas of Being, or of the Mode of Being, which respectively answer to the Terms they use, or we imploy our selves.

Nevertheless I grant that we may, and even sometimes must imploy those words which do not directly raise distinct Ideas. We may, because it is not always necessary to put the D [...]finition instead of the Defin'd, and that abridg'd Expressions are to good use imploy'd though confus'd in themselves. And We must, when we are oblig'd to speak of things whereof we have no clear Idea, and which we cannot conceive, but by our inward Sensation, as when we speak of the Soul, and her Modifications Only we must take care not to use obscure and equivocal, when we have clear Terms; or any which may excite false Ideas in those we speak to. This will be better understood by an instance.

It is more perspicuous to say, that God created the World by his Will, than to say he created it by his Power. This last word is a Logical Term, which excites no distinct and particular Idea, but affords Liberty to imagine that the Power of God is something distinct from the efficacy of his Will. We speak more clearly when we say God pardons Sinners, in JESUS CHRIST; than in absolutely saying, he forgives them by his Clemency and Mercy: These Terms are Equivocal; and administer occasion to think that the Clemency of God, is, it may be contrary to his Justice: That Sin may be left unpunish'd; and that the satisfaction of Our LORD is not necessary, and the like.

These Terms of a Loose and Indefinite sense are often us'd when we speak of the Divine Perfections; which is not to be condemn'd, since Philosophical accuracy is not at all times necessary. But by a culpable dullness and negligence such abuse is made of these general Expressions and so many false consequences are drawn from them, that though all Men have the same Idea of God, and that they consider him as a Being infinitely Perfect; yet there was hardly any Imperfection but was attributed to him in Idolatrous times, and Mens discourses of him were commonly unseemly and unworthy: And all for want of carefully comparing the things they said of him with the Idea that represents him, or rather with Himself.

But chiefly in matter of natural Philosophy, these rambling and general Terms are abus'd, which excite no distinct Ideas either of Beings or their Modes. For example when we say that Bodies tend to their Center, that they fall by their Gravity, that they ascend by their Levity, that they move by their Nature, that they successively change their Forms, that they act by their Vertues, Qualities, Faculties, &c. we use such Terms as have no signification, and all these Propositions are absolutely false, in the sense that most Philosophers take them. There is no Center in the sense that is commonly understood. These Terms, Gravity, Form, Nature, and the like, excite no Idea either of a Being or a mode of Being. They are empty and insignificative Terms, which Wise-Men should avoid. The Knowledge of the unwise is as talk without sense, says the Son of Sirach. These Terms are good for nothing, but to shelter the Ignorance of Pretenders to Learning,Eccl. 21.18. and to make the Ignorant and Libertines believe that God is not the True Cause of all things.

This methinks is certain, and easy to be conceiv'd: Yet most Men talk freely of all things, without caring to examine whether the Terms they employ have any clear and exact signification. And many Authors there are of huge and bulky Volumes, in which its harder than may be thought, to find any passage where they have understood what they have written. Therefore those who are great Readers, and respectful Hearers of the rambling and general Discourses of the falsly Learn'd, are in the darkest Ignorance. And I see no way they have to get free of it, but by constantly making, and renewing their Resolution, of believing no Man on his word, and before they have annex'd very distinct Ideas to the most common Terms which others use. For these Terms are not clear, as is commonly imagin'd; and they seem so only from the common Use that is made of them: Because Men fancy they well understand what they say or hear, when they have said or heard the same an hundred times, though they have never examin'd it.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Conclusion of the Three First BOOKS. That Physicians and Casuists are absolutely necessary for us; But that it is dangerous to consult and follow them in many occasions.

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CErtainly Man before his Fall, was possess'd of all things necessary to preserve his Mind and Body in a perfect State. He needed neither Physician, nor Casuist: He consulted Inward Truth, as the Infallible Rule of his Duty; and his Senses were so faithful in their Reports, that they never deceiv'd him in the use he ought to make of encompassing Bodies, for the preservation of his own.

But since the Transgression things are much chang'd, We consult our Passions much more than Law or Truth Eternal; and our Senses are so disorder'd, that in following them we sometimes destroy our Health and Life. The Casuist and Physician are become absolutely necessary. And those who pretend to be most dexterous at Self-management upon all occasions, fall commonly into the grossest Miscarriages, which teach them a little too late, that they follow a Master that is not over-wise.

Nevertheless I think I may say that Sin has not so disorder'd all the faculties of the Soul, but that we may consult our selves, in many instances, and that it often fortunes that we lose the Life of our Soul, or Body, by applying to Physicians, unexpert in their Profession, and unacquainted with the constitution of our Body, or to Casuists unskill'd in Religion and Morality, who pierce not to the bottom of the conscience, to discover the Engagements and Dispositions of those who come to be resolv'd.

When I have said in the Conclusion of the Three first Books of The Search after Truth, has given occasion to some Persons, to imagine I pretended that in Order to preserve life and health, we ought to follow our Senses and Passions in all things; and that to be guided in our Duty it was needless to consult other Men, since Eternal Wisdom is our Teacher that speaks intelligibly to us in the recesses of our Reason. And though I never said nor thought that Physicians and Casuists were useless, some Persons expedite at judging and concluding, are persuaded it was my Opinion, because, it may be, it was theirs: And that they do not so much consider Man as he is at present, as what he was before the Fall. Here then in a great part are my Thoughts upon the question.

Man may be consider'd in two States of Body, Health and Sickness. If he be consider'd in perfect Health, it cannot I think be doubted but his senses are much more useful to preserve it, than the Reason and Experience of the ablest Physicians. There's no need of advising with the Doctor to know what Weight a man may bear, whether Wood and Stones are to be eaten, whether he may throw himself from a Precipice. His senses teaching him, in the readiest and most undoubted manner, what ought to be done in the like ordinary occasions. Which is, one would think, sufficient, to justifie what I have said in the conclusion of the three first Books.

But that will not serve turn to justify my Thoughts, and even my Words in another place. viz. That our senses acquit themselves of their Duty so excellently well, and conduct us in that just and faithful manner to their End, Book 1. that they seem to be injuriously charg'd with Corruptness and Irregularity. For I have always been perswaded that the Justness, Exactness and admirable Order which is found in our Sensations with reference to the preservation of Life, was no Consequence of Sin, but the first Institution of Nature.

'Tis objected that at present this Order is disorder'd, and that if we were led by our senses, we should not only eat Poison, but should almost always receive in, much more Nutriment than we could digest.

But as to Poisons I don't believe our senses would ever invite us to eat them; but that if our Eyes should by chance provoke us to tast them, we should not find in them a relish that would induce us to swallow them, supposing these Poisons were in their Natural State. For there is great difference between Poisons, as they are Naturally produc'd, and empoison'd Food; between crude Pepper, and Pepper'd Meats. Our senses I grant invite us to eat Poison'd Victuals. But they do not incline us to eat Poisons, or it may be, not so much as to taste them, provided these Poisons remain in the capacity wherein God has produc'd them. For our senses reach but to the Natural Order of things as constituted by their Maker.

[Page]I grant likewise that our senses at present induce us to eat certain Meats to excess and surfeiting, but that's because these Meats are not in their Natural State. We should never perhaps overcharge our selves with Wheat, if we ground it with Teeth, made for that purpose; But it is ground, and sifted, and kneaded, and baked; Sophisticated too sometimes with Milk, with Butter, and Sugar, it's eaten also with preserves, and with Ragoos of several sorts which provoke appetite. And so we need not wonder if our senses incline us to excess, when Reason and Experience lend both their assistance to impose on them.

So it is in respect of flesh, which the senses abhor when Raw and Full of Blood, when beheld after the Animal died of it self. But Men have bethought themselves to kill the Beasts, to drain out the Blood, to concoct the flesh with Fire, to Season, and Disguise it, and after this accuse their Senses of Corruption and disorder; since they Imploy their Reason in preparing other sorts of Diet than Nature supplies to them, I must own there is need of the same Reason to Moderate their Appetite, in their Eating: And if the Cooks have found out the art of making us eat Old Shooes in their High Season'd Dishes, it lies upon us to make as much use of our reason in mistrusting these Adulterated meats which are not such as God has made them: For he has given us our senses only with Relation to the Natural Order of things.

It must farther be observ'd that our Imagination, and senses are mistrustful and suspicious when we take unusual Aliments. For if a Men had never Eaten, nor seen Eaten a particular Fruit he met with, he would have some aversion and sense of fear upon the tasting it: His [...]magination and senses would be naturally arrect and attentive to the relish it afforded; though never so hungry he would eat but little the first time, and if this Fruit had any dangerous quality it would be sure to create in him some dread or abhorrence. Thus his Machine would be so dispos'd as to decline it another time; and the Odium which he had to it sensibly discovering it self in his Looks, would prevent others from eating it. All this would be perform'd, or might be perform'd in him, whilst Reason had no share in it: For I speak not here of those supplies which Reason, and Experience may administer. But seeing our Friends take corrupt nutriment, we do the same: For we live by Opinion; and Example emboldens us.

We examine not the effects these Aliments may produce in us, and we fear not to eat them to excess. But our senses are not so great abettors of the Intemperance as is believ'd. 'Tis true there possibly are in the World such Fruits as that their Tasts may impose on Persons never so attentive to the Reports of their senses: But this certainly is very rare: And we ought not to conclude from these particular instances, that our senses are all corrupt, and that they commonly deceive us, in things relating to the good of the Body. It may be, these Fruits deceive our Tast, because we have altered, and corrupted our Organ by the frequent use of unnatural Nourishment. For 'tis certain that the High Season'd Dishes, we feed upon, by their too Poignant, and penetrating Particles, hurt the Fibres of the Tongue, and deprive it of it's Niceness and Sagacity. The Example of those who can find no relish except in Ragoos, proves my assertion; for if we find no savour in Corn, and in crude Flesh, 'tis because our Tongue is grown insensible to those Particles, whose motions are Moderate.

But though we suppose there are some Fruits whose savour is capable of deceiving the most curious senses, and which still retain their Natural perfection; yet we ought not to believe this proceeded from Sin: But only that from the great simplicity of Natural Laws, (by vertue of which the sense of Tast is form'd and perfected) 'twas impossible for it to have sufficient Niceness and Sagacity for all sorts of Eatables. Besides, that defect of sense would not be remediless, because when the Mother had an aversion to dangerous Fruits, she would communicate it to her Children, not only when unborn, but also when come into the World. For Children only Eat what is given them by their Mothers, and they Machinally, and by the Air of their Countenance infuse into them an abhorrence for Fruits that are dangerous to be Eaten. So that God has made sufficient Provision by our senses for the preservation of our Life, and nothing can be better Order'd. For as Order requires, that the Laws of Union of our Soul and Body should be most Simple; they must be of a very General Nature: And God ought not to establish particular Laws for such instancess and emergences, as most rarely happen, Reason on such occasions must Help out the Senses: For Reason may be employ'd in all things. But the senses are determin'd to some Natural Judgments, which are the most advantageous [...]maginable, as I have prov'd in the first Book. Yet even these Judgments are sometimes fallacious; because 'tis impossible it should be otherwise without multiplying the most simple Laws of Union of the Body with the Soul.

If we consider Man as now he is, under a State of Sickness, we must confess his senses often deceive him, even in things that relate to the preservation of his Life. For the Oeconomy of his Machine being disturb'd in Proportion to it's disturbance, irregular motions must unavoidably be excited in his Brain. Nevertheless his senses are not so corrupted, as is Ordinarily believ'd: And God has so wisely provided for the preservation of Life by the Laws of Union of the Soul and Body, that though these laws are extreamly simple, they often suffice to restore us to our Health; and it is much the surer way to follow them, than to employ our Reason, or certain Physicians that do not carefully study the disposition of their Patients. For as a wound closes and heals up of its self when constantly cleans'd and lick'd, as is done by Animals when wounded: So Ordinary diseases are speedily dispers'd, when we let them alone, and exactly observe that course of Life, which these Diseases, as it were by instinct, and Sensation, put us upon.

[Page]Wine, for example; seems bitter to a Man in a Feaver, and likewise is prejudicial to him in that Condition: This same Man finds it agreeable to the Palate, when he is in Health, and then too it is Wholesome for him. It sometimes even happens that Wine is most useful to the Sick that relish it, provided their tast be not an effect of the Habit of drinking it, and that their desire of it proceed from the present disposition of their Body: That it cannot be doubted but that we are to consult our senses in Sickness for the way we are to take to the recovery of our Health. Here follows my Opinion about what we ought to do.

'Tis requisite that the distemper'd Person should be extreamly attentive to those secret desires which sometimes arise in him on occasion of the actual disposition of his Body; but above all, take heed lest these desires should be the consequence of some preceding Habit. He must, to that intent, slacken, as I may say, the bent of Imagination, or, thinking on nothing that may determine it, observe to what he is inclin'd, and examine whether his present Inclination proceeds from the actual disposition of his Body: Which done, he ought to follow it, but with much caution and reserve; it being extreamly difficult to be assur'd whether these secret Inclinations are owing to the present State of Body; and 'tis sometimes good to have the advice of some Experienc'd Person upon it. But if the Sick Person thus giving a loose to his Imagination, as I have been saying, finds nothing offer it self to his Mind, he must remain quiet, and use abstinence, for this likely will quicken him to some desire, or spend the humours that distemper him. But if the disease increase, notwithstanding his Abstinence and Rest, 'tis then necessary to have recourse to experience and the Physician. He must give then an exact account of all to a Skillful one that knows, if possible, the Constitution of his Body; He must clearly explain to Him the beginnings, and progress of his Disease, and the State of Body he was in, before he fell into it, that He may consult his Experience and Reason with reference to the Person to be cur'd by him. And then though the Physician prescribe bitter Medicines, and which are really sorts of Poison, yet they must be taken because we Experimentally know that these Poisons stay not in the Body, but drive out sometimes along with them the corrupt humours which are the cause of the Disease. Here it is that Reason, or rather Experience, must over-rule the Senses; provided the abhorrence of the recommended Potion be not of a fresh date. For if this Aversion was Cotemporary with the disease, it would rather be a Symptom of the Medicine's being of the same Nature with the ill humours that caus'd the distemper, and so perhaps would be augment and strengthen it.

Nevertheless I think it advisable before we venture upon strong Medicines, and which we are much averse to, to begin with those that are more gentle and natural: As by Drinking a good quantity of Water, or taking an easie Emetick, if we have lost our Appetite, and are not very hard to Vomit. Water may attenuate the too condens'd humours, and Facilitate the Circulation of the Blood into all the Parts of the Body: And Vomitives cleansing the Stomach, hinder the Nourishment we take in, from corrupting, and feeding any longer intermittent Feavers. But I ought not to insist upon these things. I am therefore of Opinion that we ought to follow the advise of the wise Physicians, who are not too hasty and expeditious, who are not too presumptuous upon the Recipe's, nor too easie to give their Nostrums and Prescriptions. For where one remedy does a Sick Man good, there are a great many that do him harm. As the suffering Persons are impatient, and as it makes not for the Honour of the Physicians, nor the profit of the Apothecary, to visit the sick without prescribing to them, so they visit too seldom, and prescribe too often. When therefore a Man is Sick, he ought to request of his Physician, that he would [...]azard nothing; but follow Nature, and strengthen it i [...] he can: He ought to let him know that he has more Reason, and Patience, than to take it ill that he visits him often without giving him relief: For on these occasions he sometimes does a great deal, who does no mischief.

I conclude then that we must have recourse to Physicians, and refuse not to obey them, if we would preserve our Life. For though they cannot be assur'd of restoring our Health, yet sometimes they may contribute much for it, by reason of the continual Experiments, they make upon different Diseases. They know indeed very little, with any exactness, yet still they know much more than our selves; and provided they will give themselves the trouble of studying our constitution, of carefully observing all the Symptoms of the Disease, and diligently attending to our own inward Feeling; we may hope from them all the Assistances that we may reasonably expect from Men.

What we have said of Physicians may in a manner be apply'd to Casuists, whom 'tis absolutely necessary to consult on some occasions; and commonly useful. But it sometimes happens not only to be most useless, but highly dangerous, to advise with them; which I explain and prove.

'Tis commonly said that humane Reason is subject to Error; but herein there is an equivocal sence, which we are not sufficiently aware of. For it must not be imagin'd that the Reason which Man consults is corrupted, or that it ever misleads, when faithfully consulted. I have said it, and I say it again, that none but the Soveraign Reason makes us Rational: None but the Supream Truth enlightens us, nor any but God, that speaks clearly, and knows how to instruct us. We have but one True Master, even JESUS CHRIST Our LORD, Eternal WISDOM, the WORD of the Father, in whom are all the Treasures of Wisdom, and the Knowledge of God: And 'tis Blasphemy to say, this Vniversal Reason, whereof all Men participate, and by which alone they are reasonable, is subject to Error, and capable of deceiving us. 'Tis not Man's Reason but his Heart that betrays him; 'Tis not his Light, but his Darkness that hinders him from seeing. 'Tis not the Union he has with God, which seduces him, no [...] in one sence, his Union with [Page] the Body: But 'tis the dependance he has on his Body, or rather, 'tis because he will deceive himself; and enjoy the Pleasure of Judging, before he has been at the Pains of Examining; 'tis because he will rest, before he arrives to the place of the Rest of Truth. I have more exactly explain'd the cause of our Errors, in many places of the preceding Book, and I here suppose what I there have said.

Which being laid down, I affirm it is needless to consult Casuists when it is certain, that Truth speaks to us; which we are sure it does when Evidence displays it self in the Answers that are made to our Enquiries, that is, to the attention of our Mind. Therefore when we retire into our own Breast, and in the silence of our Senses, and Passions, hear a Voice so clear, and intelligible, that we cannot be doubtful of the Truth of it, we must submit to it, let the World think of us what they please: We must have no regard to custom, nor listen to our secret Inclinations, nor defer too much to the resolves of those who go for the Learned part of Men. We must not give way to be misguided by the false shew of a pretended Piety; nor be humbled by the oppositions of those who know not the Soul which animates them: But we must bear patiently their proud Insults, without condemning their Intentions, or despising their Persons. We must, with simplicity of heart, rejoice in the Light of Truth, which illuminates us; and though its Answers condemn us, yet ought we to prefer them, before all the subtil Distinctions the Imagination invents, for the justification of the Passions.

Every Man, for Example, that can enter into himself, and still the confus'd noise of the Senses and Passions, clearly discovers that every motion of Love, which is given us by God, must Center upon him, and that God himself cannot dispense with the Obligation we have to Love him, in all things. 'Tis evident, that God cannot supersede acting for Himself, cannot create, or preserve our Will, to will any thing besides him, or to will any thing but what he Wills Himself. For I cannot see how it is conceivable, that God can Will a Creature should have more Love for what is less lovely, or should Love Soveraignly, as its end, what is not Supreamly amiable.

I know well that Men who interrogate their Passions, instead of consulting Order, may easily imagine that God has no other Rule of his Will than his will it self, and that if God observes Order, 'tis meerly [...]ecause he will'd it, and has made this same Order by a Will absolutely Free and Indifferent. There are those who think there is no Order immutable and necessary by its Nature: And and that the Order or Wisdom of God, whereby he has made all things, though the first of Creatures, is yet it self a Creature, made by a Free-Will of God, and not begotten of his Substance by the necessity of his Essence. But this Opinion which shakes all the Foundations of Morality by robbing Order, and the Eternal Laws, depending on it, of their Immutability, and overturns the entire Edifice of the Christian Religion, by divesting JESUS CHRIST, or the WORD of God, of his Divinity, does not yet so perfectly benight the Mind, as to hide from it this Truth: That God Wills Order. Thus whether the Will of God Makes Order, or Supposes it, we clearly see when we retire into our selves, that the God we Worship cannot do what plainly appears to us to be contrary to Order. So that Order Willing that our Time, or the Duration of our Being, should be for him that preserves us, that the Motion of our Heart should continually tend towards him, who continually impresses it in us; that all the Powers of our Souls should labour only for him, by vertue of whom they act.Mark 12.30. God cannot dispense with the Commandment he gave by Moses in the Law, and repeated by his Son in the Gospel, Thou shalt Love the Lord thy God with all thy Heart, and with all thy Soul, and with all thy Mind, and with all thy Strength.

But because Order requires that every Righteous Person should be happy, and every Sinner miserable, and that every Action conformable to Order, and every Motion of Love to God should be rewarded, and every other contrary to Order, or that tends not to him, punish'd: It is evident, that whoever will be happy must constantly tend towards God; and reject with abhorrence whatever stops or retards him in his course, or Weakens his propension to the true good: And for this he need not consult any Casuists; For when God speaks, 'tis fit that Men should be silent: And when we are absolutely certain, that our Senses, and Passions, have no Voice in those resolves we hear, in our most Secret and inward Reason, we ought always respectfully to attend and submit to them.

Would we be resolv'd whether we may go to a Ball or a Play: Whether we may in Conscience spend a great part of the Day in Sports, and vain Conversation, whether certain Conversations, Studies, and Employs, are conformable to our Obligations. Let us retire into our selves; and hush our Senses and Passions, and then see in the Light of God, whether we can do for him any such Action: Let us interrogate him who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, to know if the Road we pursue will not lead us to the Gates of Death: And whether (God being Essentially Just, and necessarily oblig'd to punish what is not agreeable to Order, and to reward all conformity to it) we have reason to believe we are going to augment, or ensure our Felicity, by the Action we intend to do.

If it be our Love to God that leads us to the Ball, let us go: If Heaven is to be gain'd by playing, let us play Day and Night: If we have in prospect the Glory of God in our Employment, let us exercise it; Let us do all things with Joy, for our Recompence shall be great in Heaven. But if after having carefully examin'd our Essential Obligations, we clearly discover that neither our Being, nor the Time that measures it, is at our own disposal, and that we do an unjust thing, which it necessarily lies upon God to punish, when our only study is how to spend our time in Mirth and Pleasure, If our Lord and Master CHRIST, who has purchas'd us by his Blood, [...]eproaches our In [...]idelity and Ingratitude in a most clear and intelligible manner, for living after [Page] the Flesh and the World, for Leading an Effeminate, and Voluptuous Life, and following Opinion and Custom: Let us yield to his Voice, and not harden our Hearts, nor seek out such Spiritual, Guides, as comfort us under these Reproaches, and secure us against these Menaces, and involve in delightful Clouds that Light which strikes, and pierces our very Soul.

When the Blind leads the Blind they both fall into the Ditch, says the Evangelist. But if God excuses not the Blind who commits himself to the Conduct of a Blind Leader, will he excuse him who seeing clearly will yet willingly be guided by the Blind, because he leads him pleasantly, and entertains him by the way, according to his Inclinations? These voluntary Blind Men ought to know, that God who never deceives, frequently permits these Seducers in punishment to the corrupt Affections of those that seek them. That Blindness is a penalty of Sin, though it be often the cause of it; and that it is just, that he who cared not to hear Eternal Wisdom, who spoke only for his good, should at last suffer himself to be corrupted by Men, whose deception is so much more dangerous, as their Flatteries are more pleasing.

'Tis true 'tis no easie thing to retire into our selves, to silence our Senses, and Passions, and to distinguish the Voice of God, from that of our Body: For we most commonly take sensible Proofs for evident Reasons; and on that account it is necessary to consult the Casuists. But it is not always needful: For we see our Duty on many occasions, with the clearest Evidence, and an undoubted certainty. And then it is even dangerous to consult them, unless it be done with the greatest Sincerity, and by a Spirit of Humility, and Obedience. For these dispositions oblige God to prevent our deception, or at least to keep us from deceiving our selves in any hurtful manner.

When it is convenient to advise with a Spiritual Guide, such an one is to be chosen as understands Religion, and reverences the Gospel, and is acquainted with humane Nature. We must take heed least the converse of the World has corrupted him, least Friendship should make him too Gentle and Complaisant, least he should be Brib'd by his hopes or fears of us; We must choose one in a thousand, says St. Theresia, who, as she relates her self, had like to have lost her way to Heaven, by the means of an Ignorant Guide.

The World is full of Deceivers, I say of Well-Meaning Deceivers; no less than others. Those who Love us, seduce us by their Complaisance: Those who are below us, flatter us; out of Respect or Fear: Those above us out of Contempt, or Negligence, overlook our necessities. Besides, all Men give us Counsel, agreeable to the Breviates we give of our own Condition, and we never fail to make the best of our Case, insensibly laying our hand upon our sore when we are asham'd of it. We often deceive our Counsellours, that we may deceive our selves: For we fancy our selves secure, whilst we follow their Directions. They do but conduct us whither we design'd to go; and yet we would fain perswade our selves, in spite of our Light, and the Secret reproofs of our Reason, that 'tis our Obedience which determines us. We seduce our selves, and God permits us; but we can never deceive him who Penetrates the Bottom of our Hearts. And though we deafen our selves never so much to the Voice of Internal Truth, we are sufficiently made sensible by the inward Reproaches, we receive, from the Supream Truth, leaving us to our selves, that it enlightens our Darkness, and discovers all the Wiles and Stratagems of Self-Love.

'Tis therefore evident, that our Reason must be consulted for the Health of our Soul, as our Senses are to be advis'd with for the Health of our Body; and that when the former cannot clearly resolve us, we must apply to the Casuist, as we must have recourse to the Physician, when the latter are defective: But this is to be done with Judgment, since Ignorant Casuists may Murther our Soul, as Vnskilful Physicians may Poison our Body.

Whereas I explain not in particular the Rules which may be given about the choice and use that's to be made of Physicians and Casuists. I desire my Sentiments may be candidly interpreted, and that it may not be imagin'd I am against drawing all possible supplies from other Men. I know that a particular Blessing attends our submission to the Opinions of the Wise and Understanding: And I am willing to believe this general Rule, that 'tis requisite to die in the usual Forms, is surer for the common sort of Men; than any I could establish for the Preservation of Life.

But because 'tis of perpetual use to retire into our selves, to consult the Gospel; and to listen to JESUS CHRIST, whether he speaks immediately to our Mind and Heart, or by Faith declares himself to our Ears and Eyes; I thought I might be allow'd to say what I have said. For our Casuists deceive us when they go contrary to the Doctrine of our Faith and Reason. And as we give Honour to God by believing that his Works have what is necessary to their preservation, I thought I could make Men sensible their Machine was so admirably contriv'd, that it's own Nature can better furnish it with what's necessary to it's safety, than Science and even the Experience of the ablest Physicians.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Third CHAPTER of the Fifth BOOK. That Love is different from Pleasure and Joy.

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THE Mind commonly confounds things that are very different, when they happen at the same time, and are not contrary to each other. As I have shown by many Instances in this Work; because herein chiefly consist our Errors, in Respect of what passes within us. Being we have no clear Idea of [...]hat constitutes the Nature or Essence of our Mind, nor of any of the Modification it can receive, it often falls out, that to our confounding different things, they need but happen in us at the same time. For we easily confound what we know not, by a clear and distinct Ide [...].

It is not only impossible clearly to conceive wherein consists the difference of our Internal Motions; it is even difficult to discover any difference between them: For to do this we must turn our Eyes inward, and retire into our selves; not to consider them with reference to Good and Evil, which we do willingly enough: But to contemplate our selves with an abstract and barren consideration, which costs us great trouble, and distraction of Thought.

We easily conceive, that the Roundness of a Body differs from its Motion; and though we know by Experience, that a Bowl on a plane cannot be press'd without being mov'd, and so Motion and Roundness are found together: Yet we use not to confound them with one another, because we conceive Motion and Figure by clear and distinct Ideas. But 'tis not so with Pleasure and Love, which we almost always confound together. Our Mind grows, as it were Moveable by Pleasure, as a Bowl by it's roundness, and because it is never void of an impression towards Good, it immediately puts it self in Motion towards the Objects which causes, or seems to cause the Pleasure. So that the Motion of Love happening in the Soul at the very time of it's feeling this Pleasure, is sufficient to make her undistinguish or confound them, because she has no clear Idea of her Love and Pleasure as she has of Figure and Motion. And for this Reason some are perswaded, that Pleasure and Love are not different, and that I distinguish too many things in each of our Passions.

But that it may clearly appear, that Pleasure and Love are two very different things: I divide Pleasures into two sorts, the one sort precedes Reason, as are agreeable Sensations, and go commonly by the Name of the Pleasures of the Body. The other sort neither precede Reason, nor the senses, and are generally call'd the Pleasures of the Soul. Such is the Joy that arise in us, in pursuance of a clear knowledge of confus'd sensation we have of some Good, that either does, or shall accrue to us.

For Example, a Man in tasting a Fruit, which he does not know, finds pleasure in eating it, if it be good for Nourishment. Which is a preceding or preventing Pleasure; for since he feels it before he knows whether the Fruit be good, 'tis evident it prevents his Reason. An Huntsman when hungry expects to find, or actually finds something Eatable; which gives him an actual sense of Joy. Now this Joy is a Pleasure which follows the knowledge of his present or future good.

It is perhaps evident by this distinction of Pleasure into that which follows, and that which prevents Reason; that neither of them but differs from Love. For preventing pleasure undoubtedly precedes Love, since it precedes all Knowledge, which some way or other is always suppos'd by Love. On the contrary, Joy, or the Pleasure which supposes foregoing Knowledge, presupposes likewise Love; since Joy supposes either a confus'd Sensation, or a clear Knowledge of the present or future Possession of what we Love: For if we possess'd a thing for which we have no Love, we should receive no Joy from it. Therefore Pleasure is very different from Love, since that which prevents Reason; prevent and causes Love, and that which follows Reason, necessarily supposes Love; as an Effect supposes the Cause.

Moreover, if Pleasure and Love were the same thing, there could be no Pleasure without Love, nor Love without Pleasure, otherwise a thing could be without it self. Nevertheless a Christian Loves his Enemy, and a well-educated Child his Father, though never so irrational and unkind. [Page] The Sight of their Duty, the Fear of God, the Love of Order and Justice causes them to Love, not only without Pleasure, but even with a sort of Horrour, those Persons that are no ways delightful. I own they sometimes have the Sense of Pleasure or Joy, upon the Reflection, that they perform their Duty; or upon the Hopes of being rewarded as they do deserve. But besides, that this Pleasure is very manifestly different from the Love they bear to their Father, and Enemy; though perhaps it may be the Motive of it, it sometimes is not so much as the Motive of their acting; but 'tis only an abstract View of Order, or a Notion of Fear, which preserves their Love. In one sense it may be truly said, they have a Love for these Persons, even whilst they do not think of them. For Love remains in us during the Avocations of Thought, and in Sleep: But I conceive that Pleasure has no longer a Substance in the Soul, than she is aware of it. Thus Love or Charity remaining in us without Pleasure or Delectation, cannot be maintain'd to be the very same thing.

Since Pleasure and Pain are two contraries; if Pleasure were the same with Love, Pain would not differ from Hatred. But 'tis evident, that Pain is different from Hatred; because it often subsists without it. A Man, for Instance, who is wounded unawares, suffers a most real and cutting Pain, whilst he is free from Hatred. For he knows not even the Cause of his Pain, or the Object of his Hatred, or rather the Cause of his Pain not deserving his Hatred, cannot raise it. Thus he Hates not that Cause of his Pain, though his Pain moves or disposes him to Hatred. 'Tis true, he deservedly Hates Pain; but the Hatred of Pain is not Pain, but supposes it. Hatred of Pain does not Merit our Hatred, as does Pain: For the former is, on the contrary, very agreeable; in that we are pleased in Hating it, as we are displeased in Suffering it. Pain therefore not being Hatred, the Pleasure which is contrary to Pain is not Love, which is contrary to Hatred, and consequently the Pleasure which is precedaneous to Reason, is not the same thing as Love. I prove likewise that Joy, or the Pleasure which pursues Reason, is distinguish'd from Love.

Joy and Sorrow being contraries; if Joy were the same thing with Love, Sorrow and Hatred would be all one. But it is evident, that Sorrow differs from Hatred, because it sometimes has a separate Subsistence. A Man, for Example, by chance finds himself depriv'd of things that he has need of; this is enough to make him sorrowful: But it cannot provoke him to Hatred; Either because he knows not what it was that depriv'd him of this necessary thing; or because, being unworthy of his Hatred, it could not excite it. 'Tis true, this Man Hates the Privation of the Good which he Loves; But it is manifest, that this kind of Hatred is really Love: For he Hates the Privation of Good, meerly because he Loves Good; and since to fly the Privation of Good, is to tend towards Good; Is is evident, that the Motion of his Hatred is not different from that of his Love. Therefore his Hatred, if he have any, being not contrary to his Love, and Sorrow being always contrary to Joy, it is evident, that his Sorrow is not his Hatred: and consequently Joy is different from Love. Lastly, It is evident, that Sorrow proceeds from the Presence of something which we hate, or rather from the Absence of something which we Love. Therefore Sorrow supposes Hatred, or rather Love, but 'tis very different from them both.

I know St. Austin defines Pain to be an Aversion the Soul conceives from the Bodies being disposed otherwise than she would have it; and that he often confounds Delectation with Charity, Pleasure with Joy, Pain with Sorrow; Pleasure and Joy with Love; Pain and Sorrow, with Aversion or Hatred. But there's great Probability this Holy Father in all this follow'd the common way of speaking of the Vulgar, who confound most of those things which occur in them at one and the same time: Or, it may be, did not examine these things in so Nice and Philosophical a manner as he might have done. Yet I think I both may and ought to say, that to me it seems necessary exactly to distinguish these things, if we would explain our selves clearly and without Equivocation upon most of the Questions handled by him. For even Men of a quite opposite Opinion use to build upon the Authority of this great Man, because of the various Senses and Constructions his Speech will afford; which is not always Nice and accurate enough to reconcile Persons, who are perhaps more eager to dispute, than desirous to agree.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON THE Third CHAPTER of the Second PART of the Sixth BOOK. Concerning the Efficacy ascribed to Second Causes.

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EVER since the Transgression of our first Parent, the Mind rambling constantly abroad, forgets both it self, and Him who pierces and enlightens it; and is so absurdly pliant to the Seducements of its Body, and those about it, as to imagine its own Happiness and Perfection is to be found in them. He that alone is able to act in us, is at present hidden from our Eyes: His Operations are of an insensible kind; and though he produces and preserves all Beings, yet the Mind whilst the earnest Enquirer of the Cause of all things, cannot easily know him, though it meets him every moment. Some Philosophers chuse rather to imagine a Nature and particular Faculties, as the Causes of those which we term Natural Effects, than to render to God all the Honour that is due to his Power. And though they have no Proof, nor even clear Idea of this pretended Nature and Faculties, as I hope to make appear, they had rather talk without knowing what they say, and reverence a purely imaginary Power, than by any Essay of Thought to discover that Invisible Hand which works all in all things.

'Tis unavoidable for me to believe that one of the most deplorable Consequences of Original Sin, is our having no Taste nor Sense for God; or our Incapacity of Tasting or Meeting him without a sort of Dread and Abhorrence. We ought to see God in all things, to be sensible of his Power and Force in all Natural Effects; to admire his Wisdom in the wonderful Order of his Creatures: In a word, to Worship, to Fear, to Love Him only in all his Works. But in our present State there is a Secret Opposition between Man and GOD; Man, conscious of his being a Sinner, hides himself, flies the Light, and is afraid to meet his Maker; and therefore had rather imagine in surrounding Bodies, a blind Power or Nature with which he can be familiar, than find in them the terrible Power of an Holy and Just GOD, who knows and Operates all in all.

I confess there are very many Persons, who from another Principle than that of the Heathen Philosophers, follow their Opinion about Nature, and Second Causes: But I hope to convince them in the Process of this Discourse, that they fall into this Sentiment, out of a Prejudice which 'tis impossible to shake off, without those Succours which are furnish'd by the Principles of a Philosophy, that has not always been sufficiently known. For in all likelihood, this is what has kept them from declaring for an Opinion, which I think my self oblig'd to espouse.

I have a great many Reasons which will not let me attribute to Second or Natural Causes, a Force, Power, or Efficacy, to produce any thing whatever. The chief whereof is, That this Opinion is to me utterly inconceivable. Though I use all possible Endeavours to comprehend it, I cannot find in my self the Idea to represent to me, what can be that Force or Power ascrib'd to the Creatures. And I need not fear passing a rash Judgment, in affirming that those who hold that the Creatures are endued with a Force and Power, advance what they do not clearly conceive. For, in short, if the Philosophers clearly conceive, that Second Causes have a true Force to act and produce their Like; I being a Man as well as they, and participating of the same Sovereign Reason, might in all probability discover the Idea which represent to them that Force. But, all the efforts that my Mind can make can discover no other Force, Efficacy or Power, than in the Will of the Infinitely perfect Being.

Besides, when I think upon the different Opinions of Philosophers upon this subject, I can no longer doubt of my assertion. For if they saw clearly what this Power of Creatures was, or what was in them truly powerful, they would agree in their Opinion about it. When Men cannot accord, though they have no private Interest to hinder them, 'tis a certain Sign they have no clear Idea of what they say, and that they understand not one another, especially if they dispute on subjects that are not of a Complex Nature, and of difficult discussion; like this before us. For there would be no difficulty to resolve it, if Men had a clear Idea of a created Force or Power. Here then follow some of their Opinions, that we may see how little agreement there is among them.

[Page] For the most extraordinary of these Opinions. See Suarez Metaphysicks. Disp. 18. Sect. 2. Assert. 2. & 3. Scot. in 4. Sent. Dist. 12.1. D. 37.2. D. 17. Palaudan. in 4. Sent. D. 12. Q. 1 Art. 1. Perer. 8. Phys. Ch. 3. Conimbr. upon Aristotle's Physicks, and many others cited by Suarez. See Eonseca's Metaphys. qu. 13. Sect. 3. and Soncin. and Javell. upon the same Question.There are Philosophers who maintain that second Causes act by their Matter, Figure and Motion, and these in one sense are right enough: Others by their substantial form. Many by Accidents or Qualities, some by Matter and Form; others by Form and Accidents, and others still by certain vertues, or faculties distinct from all this. There are of them who affirm that the substantial Form produces Forms; and the Accidental Form, Accidents: Others say that the Forms produce both other Forms and Accidents: Others, still that bare Accidents are not only capable of producing Accidents, but even Forms. But it must not be imagin'd that those for instance, who say, that Accidents can produce Forms by vertue of the Form they are join'd to, understand it the same way. For one part of them will have Accidents to be the very Force, or Virtue of the Substantial Form: Another that they imbibe into them the Influence of the Form, and only act so by vertue of it: A Third lastly will have them to be but Instrumental Causes. But neither are these latter sort altogether agreed about what is meant by Instrumental Cause, and the vertue they receive from the Principal. Nor can the Philosophers compromise about the Action whereby second Causes produce their Effects. For some of them pretend that Causality ought not to be produc'd, since it is this which produces. Others will that they truly act by their own Action. But they are involv'd in so many Labyrinths in explaining precisely wherein this Action consists, and there are so many different Opinions about it, that I cannot find in my Heart to recite them.

Such is the strange variety of Opinions, though I have not produc'd those of the Ancient Philosophers, or that were born in very remote Countries. But we have sufficient Reason to conclude, that they are no more agreed upon the subject of second Causes, than those before alledg'd. Avicenna, for instance, is of Opinion that Corporeal Substances cannot produce any thing but Accidents:Ruvio lib. 2. Ph. Tract. 4. qu. 2. This, according to Ruvio, is his Hypothesis. He supposes that God produces immediately a most perfect Spiritual Substance: That this produces another less perfect, and this a third, and so on to the last, which produces all Corporeal Substances; and Corporeal Substances, Accidents. But Avicembrom not able to comprehend how Corporeal Substances; which cannot penetrate each other, should cause alterations in them,See Suarez Disp. 18. Sect. 1. supposes that there are Spirits which are capable of acting on Bodies, because they alone can penetrate them. For these Gentlemen not admitting the Vacuum, nor the Atoms of Democritus, nor having sufficient knowledge of the subtil matter of M. des Cartes, could not with the Gassendists and Cartesians, think of Bodies which were little enough to insinuate into the pores of those that are hardest, and most solid.

Methinks this diversity of Opinions justifies this thought of ours, that Men often talk of things which they understand not; and that the Power of Creatures, being a Fiction of Mind, of which we have naturally no Idea, every Man makes it, and imagines it what he pleases.

'Tis true, this Power has been acknowledg'd for a Real and True, by most Men in all Ages; but it has never yet been prov'd, I say not demonstratively, but in any wise so, as to make an impression upon an Attentive, thinking Man. For the confus'd Proofs which are built only upon the fallacious Testimony of the Senses, and Passions, are to be rejected by those who know how to exercise their Reason.

Ch. 1. of the second Book of his Physicks. Aristotle, speaking of what they call Nature, says it is Ridiculous to go about to prove that Natural Bodies have an inward Principle of Motion and Rest; because says he, it is a thing that's Self-Evident. He likewise does not doubt but a Bowl which strikes another, has the force of putting it in Motion. This is witnessed by his Eyes, and that's enough for him, who seldom follows any other Testimony than of the Senses, (very rarely that of his Reason) and is very indifferent whether it be intelligible or not.

Those who impugn the Opinion of some Divines, who have written against Second Causes, say, like Aristotle, that the Senses convince us of their Efficacy: And this is their first and principal Proof. 'Tis evident, say they, that the Fire burns, that the Sun shines, that Water cools, and he must be out of his Senses who can doubt of it.See Fonsesa, Suarez, and others before cited. The Authors of the other Opinion, says the great Averroes, are out of their Wits. We must, say almost all the Peripateticks, use sensible Proofs for their Conviction, who deny this Efficacy, and so oblige them to confess we are capable of acting on them, and wounding them. 'Tis a judgment which Book 1. of his Topicks. C. 1. Aristotle has already pronounc'd against them, and it ought to be put in Execution.

But this pretended Demonstration cannot but create Pity: For it gives us to know the Weakness of an Humane Mind: And that the Philosophers themselves are infinitely more sensible than Reasonable. It evinces that those who glory in being the Inquirers of Truth, know not even whom they are to consult to hear any News of it: Whether Soveraign Reason, which never deceives, but always speaks things as they are in themselves, or the Body which speaks only out of Interest, and with reference to the preservation and convenience of Life. For in fine what prejudices will not be justified if we set up our Senses for Judges, to which most of them owe their Birth? As I have shown in The Search after Truth.

When I see a Bowl shock another, my Eyes tell me, or seem to tell me, that it is the True Cause of the motion it impresses; for the true cause that moves Bodies, is not visible to my Eyes. But if I interrogate my Reason, I evidently see, that Bodies having no Power to move themselves, and their moving force being nothing but the Will of God, which preserves them successively in different places, they cannot communicate a Power which they have not, nor could communicate, if they had it. For 'tis plain that there must be Wisdom, and that Infinite, to regulate the communication [Page] of motions, with that exactness, Proportion, and Uniformity which we see. A Body cannot know that infinite multitude of impuls'd Bodies round about it; and though we should suppose it to have knowledge, yet it would not have enough so proportionably to regulate and distribute, at the instant of protrusion, the moving force it self is carried with.

When I open my Eyes, the Sun appears to me splendidly glorious in Light: And it seems not only to be visible it self, but to make all the World so too. Methinks 'tis he that arrays the Earth with flowers, and enriches it with Fruits. That gives Life to Animals and striking by His Heat into the very Womb of the Earth, impregnates Her with Stones Marbles and Metalls. But in consulting my Reason I see nothing of all this: And if I faithfully consult it, I plainly discover the seducement of my Senses, and find that God Works all in all. For knowing that all the changes which accrue to Bodies, have no other principle than the different Communications of Motions, which occur in visible and invisible Bodies: I see that God does all; since 'tis his Will that causes, and his Wisdom that regulates all these Communications.

I suppose that Local Motion is the principle of Generations, Corruptions, Alterations, and Universally of all the changes incident to the Corporeal World; which is an Opinion sufficiently now receiv'd among Men of Letters. But let their Opinion about it be what it will, that matters not much; since it seems much easier to conceive, that a Body drives another when it strikes it, than to comprehend how Fire can produce Heat and Light, and educe from the power of matter a substance that was not in it before. And if it be necessary to acknowledge that God is the True Cause of the different Communications of Motion, by a much stronger reason we should conclude, that none but He can Create, and Annihilate real Qualities, and substantial Forms. I say Create and Annihilate: For it seems to me at least as difficult to educe from matter a substance that was not in it, or to reduce it into it again, whilst yet there nothing remains of it, as to create it, or Annihilate it. But I stick not to the Terms: And I make use of those, because there are no other that I know of, which express without Obscurity and Ambiguity, the changes suppos'd by the Philosophers to arrive every moment by the force of second Causes.

I had some scruple to set down here, the other Arguments which are commonly urg'd, for the Force and Efficacy of natural Causes; For they appear so weak and trifling to those who withstand Prejudices, and prefer their Reason before their Senses, that I can scarce believe, methinks, that Reasonable Men could be perswaded by them. However I produce, and answer them, since there are many Philosophers who urge them.

ARGUMENT I.

If second Causes did not Operate, say In his Metaph. Disp. 18. Sect. 1. Assert. 1. Suarez, In Metaph. Arist. qu. 7. Sect. 2. Fonseca, and some others, Animate things could not be distinguish'd from Inanimate, since neither one, nor the other, would have an inward principle of their Actions.

ANSWER.

I answer, that Men would have the same sensible proofs that have convinc'd them of the distinction they make between things Animate and Inanimate. They would still see Animals do the same Actions, as eat, grow, cry, run, bound, &c. and would discern nothing like this in Stones:See Book 4. Ch. 11. toward the end, and Book 6. Part 2. Ch. 7. And this one thing makes the vulgar Philosophers believe, that Beasts live, and that Stones do not. For we are not to fancy that they know by a clear and distinct view of Mind, what is the Life of a Dog. 'Tis their Senses which regulate their Decisions upon this Question.

If it were necessary, I could prove here that the principle of the Life of a Dog differs not from the principle of the Motion of a Watch. For the Life of Bodies whatever they be, can consist but in the Motion of their Parts: And we may easily judge that the same subtil matter, which causes the Fermentation of the Blood, and Animal Spirits, in a Dog, and which is the principle of his Life, is no perfecter than that which gives Motion to the Spring of a Watch, or which causes the Gravitation in the Weights of a Clock, which is the principle of their Life, or to speak as others do, of their Motion.

It behoves the Peripateticks to give those whom they stile Cartesians a clear Idea of what they call the Life of Beasts, Corporeal Soul, Body which Perceives, and Desires, Sees, Feels, Wills, and then we shall clearly resolve their Difficulties, if after that they shall persist in raising them.

ARGUMENT II.

It were impossible to discover the Differences, or Powers of the Elements: So that Fire might refrigerate as Water, and nothing would be of a settled and fix'd Nature.

ANSWER.

I answer, That whilst Nature remains as it is, that is to say, whilst the Laws of the Communication of Motions remain constantly the same; it is a Contradiction, that Fire should not burn, or separate the Parts of certain Bodies. Fire cannot refrigerate like Water, unless it becomes Water; for Fire being only Fewel,See Ch. 2. Book IV. whose Parts have been violently agitated by an invisible surrounding [Page] Matter, as is easie to demonstrate; it is impossible its Parts should not Communicate some of their Motion to approaching Bodies: Now as these Laws are constant, the Nature of Fire, its Virtues and Qualities are unchangeable. But this Nature, and these Vertues, are only Consequences of the General and Efficacious Will of GOD, who does all in all things. Therefore the Study of Nature, is in all respects false and vain, when we look for other true Causes than the Wills of the ALMIGHTY.

I confess that we are not to have recourse to God, or the Universal Cause, when we require the Reason of particular Effects. For we should be ridiculous to assert, for Instance, That GOD dries the Ways, or Freezes the Water in the River. We must say, The Air dries the Earth, because it moves, and bears off the Water with it that dilutes it: Or that the Air, or the subtil Matter Freezes the River in Winter, because at that time it communicates not sufficient Motion to the Parts that constitute the Water. In a Word, we must, if we can, assign the Natural and particular Cause of the Effects propos'd, to Examination. But because the Action of these Causes consists in the moving Force, which actuates them, which moving Force is the Will of GOD, (which create them), we ought not to say they have in themselves a Force or Power to produce any Effects. And when in Reasoning we are at last arriv'd to a general Effect, of which we seek the Cause; 'tis no good Philosophy to imagine any other than the general. And to feign a certain Nature, a first Moveable, and universal Soul, or some such Chimera, whereof we have no clear and distinct Idea, would be to argue like an Heathen Philosopher. For Example, when we are ask'd, whence it comes that some Bodies are in motion, or that the agitated Air communicates its Motion to the Water, or rather whence proceeds the mutual Protrusion of Bodies: Motion and its Communication being a general Effect, on which all others depend; we cannot answer, I do'nt say like Christians, but Philosophers, without ascending to God who is the Universal Cause: Since 'tis His Will that is the moving Force of Bodies, and that regulates the Communication of their Motions. Had he will'd there should be no new Production in the World, he would not have put its Parts in motion: And if hereafter He shall will the Incorruptibility of some of the Beings he had made, he shall cease to will the Communication of Motions in point of those Beings.

ARGUMENT III.

'Tis needless to Plow, to Water, and give several preparatory Dispositions to Bodies, to fit them for what we desire from them. For GOD has no need of preparing the Subjects on which he Works.Suarez. ib.

ANSWER.

I answer; That GOD may do absolutely all he pleases, without finding any Dispositions in the Subjects he works upon. But he cannot do it without a Miracle, or by Natural ways; that is, by the General Laws of the Communication of Motions, which he has constituted, and which he almost always follows in his Actings. GOD never multiplies his Wills without Reason; but acts always by the simplest Ways; and for that Reason he makes use of the Collision of Bodies, in giving them Motion. Not that this Collision is absolutely necessary to it, as our Senses tell us, but that being the Occasion of the Communication of Motions, there need be but very few Natural Laws to produce all the admirable Effects we see. For by this means we may reduce all the Laws of the Communication of Motions to one: Viz. That percutient Bodies being considered as but one, at the Moment of their Contact,See Chap. the last of The Search. or Collision, the moving Force is divided between them at their Separation, according to the Proportion of their Magnitude. But whereas concurrent Bodies are surrounded with infinite others, which act upon them, by Virtue and Efficacy of this Law; however constant and uniform this Law be, it produces a World of quite different Communications, because it acts upon infinite Bodies, which are all related to one another.

It is necessary to Water a Plant to make it grow; because by the Laws of the Communication of Motions, hardly any other than Watry Particles can by their Motion, and by reason of their Figure, insinuate and Wind up themselves into the Fibres of Plants, and by variously fastning and combining together, take the Figure that's necessary to their Nourishment. The subtil Matter which is constantly flowing from the Sun, may, by its agitating the Water, lift it into the Plants; but it has not a competent Motion to raise gross Earthy Particles. Yet Earth and Air too are necessary to the Growth of Plants; Earth to preserve the Water at their Root, and Air to give this Water a Moderate Fermentation. But the Action of the Sun, the Air, and Water, consisting but in the Motion of their Parts, in proper speaking, GOD is the only Agent. For as I have said, there is none but He that can by the efficacy of his Will, and by the Infinite Extent of his Knowledge cause and regulate those infinitely infinite Communications of Motions, which are made every moment, and in a Proportion infinitely exact, and regular.

ARGUMENT IV.

Can God resist, and Fight against Himself? Bodies justle, strike, and resist one another, therefore Gods Acts not in them, unless it be by his concourse. For if it were he only that produc'd, and preserv'd Motion in Bodies, he would take care to divert them before the Collision, as knowing well that they are impenetrable. To what purpose are Bodies driven to be beaten back again, [Page] why must they proceed to recoil? Or what signifies it to produce and Preserve useless Motions; Is it not an Absurdity to say that God impugns himself, and that He destroys his Works, when a Bull fights with a Lyon, when a Wolf devours a Sheep, and a Sheep eats the Grass which God makes to grow? Therefore there are Second Causes.

ANSWER.

Therefore Second Causes do all, and God does nothing at all. For God cannot act against himself, but Concourse is Action. The concurring to contrary Actions is giving contrary Concourse, and consequently doing contrary Actions. To concur with the Action of Creatures that resist each other, is to Act against himself. To concur to useless Motions, is to Act in vain. But God does nothing needless or in vain; he does no contrary Actions, and therefore concurs not to the Action of Creatures that often destroy one another, and makes useless Actions and Motions. See where this proof of Second Causes leads us. But let us see what Reason says to it.

God Works all in every thing, and nothing resists him. He Works all in all things, in as much as his Will both makes, and regulates all Motions: And nothing resists him, because he does what ever he Wills. But let us see how this is to be conceiv'd. Having resolv'd to produce by the simplest ways, as most conformable to Order that infinite Variety of Creatures which we admire, he will'd that Bodies should move in a right line, because that is the most simple. But Bodies being impenetrable, and their Motions tending in Lines that oppose, or intersect one another, they must necessarily fall foul together, and consequently cease moving in the same manner. God foresaw this, yet notwithstanding positively will'd the Collision, or shock of Bodies; not that he's delighted in impugning himself, but because he design'd to make use of this Collision as an Occasion for his establishing the General Law of the Communication of Motions; by which he foresaw he must produce an infinite Variety of admirable Effects. For I am perswaded that these two Natural Laws which are the simplest of all others: Namely, that All Motion tends to make it self in a right line; and that in the Collision, Motions are Communicated proportionably to the magnitude of the Colliding Bodies; are sufficient to produce such a World as we see: That is, the Heaven and Stars, and Planets, and Comets, Earth, Water, Air, and Fire: In a Word, the Elements, and all Unorganiz'd, and inanimate Bodies. For Organiz'd Bodies depend on many other Natural Laws, which are perfectly unknown. It may be living Bodies are not form'd like others by a determinate number of Natural Laws. For there is great probability, they were all form'd at the Creation of the World, and that Time only gives them a necessary Growth, to make them Visible to our Eyes; Nevertheless, it is certain, they receive that Growth by the General Laws of Nature, whereby all other Bodies are form'd which is the Reason, that their Increase is not always Regular.

I say then that God by the first of Natural Laws positively Wills, and consequently Causes the Collision of Bodies; and afterwards imploys this Collision as an Occasion of establishing the Second Natural Law; which regulates the Communication of Motions; and that thus the actual Collision, is the Natural, or Occasional Cause of the Actual Communication of Motions.

If this be well consider'd, it will be evidently acknowledg'd that nothing can be better Order'd. But supposing that God had not so Ordain'd it, and that he had diverted Bodies, when ready to encounter, as if there were a Vacuum to receive them, First they would not be subject to that perpetual Vicissitude which makes the Beauty of the Universe: For the Generation of some Bodies is perform'd by the Corruption of Others; and 'tis the contrariety of their Motion which produces their Variety. Secondly God would not act in the most simple manner: For if Bodies ready to meet should continue on their Motion, without touching, they must needs describe Lines curv'd in a thousand different Fashions; and consequently different Wills must be admitted in God to determine their Motions. Lastly, if there were no Uniformity in the Action of Natural Bodies, and that their Motion were not made in a right Line, we should have no certain Principle for our Reasonings in natural Philosophy, nor for our conduct in many Actions of our Life.

'Tis not a disorder that Lyons eat Wolves, and that Wolves eat Sheep, and Sheep grass, of which God has had so special a regard, as to give it all things necessary to its preservation, and likewise a Seed for perpetuating it's kind. This proves second causes no more, than the Plurality of Causes, of contrary Principles of Good, and Evil, which the Manichees imagin'd to account for these effects: But 'tis a certain Sign of the Grandeur, Wisdom and Magnificence of God. For God does no works unbecoming an infinite Wisdom, and he does them with that profusion as is a manifest proof of his Power, and Greatness. Whatever is destroy'd, is repair'd again by the same Law that destroy'd it: So great is the Wisdom, Power and Fecundity of that Law. God prevents not the destruction of Beings by any new Will: not only because the first suffices to restore them; but especially because his Wills are of much greater value than the Reparation of these Beings. They are far more valuable than all that they produce. And God had never made this World, since not worthy of the Action by which it was produc'd, unless he had other prospects than are known by the Philosophers, and knew how to honour himself in JESUS CHRIST, with an honour which the Creatures are not capable of giving him.

When a House falls, and crushes an Honest Man to death: a greater Evil happens, than when one Beast devours another, or when a Body is forc'd to rebound by the shock it receives from the Encounter of another. But God does not multiply his Wills, to redress either the true or apparent Disorders which are the necessary Consequences of natural Laws. God ought not to correct nor change these Laws, though they sometimes produce Monsters. He is not to confound the Order, [Page] and simplicity of his Ways. He must neglect mean and little things: I would say, he must not have particular Wills to produce effects, which are not equivalent to, or worthy of the Action of the Producer. God works not Miracles save when Order which he constantly follows requires it: which Order requires that he should act by the most simple ways; and make no exceptions to his general Wills, but when 'tis absolutely necessary to his designs, or on particular occasions, which we are absolutely ignorant of. Though we are all united to Order, or the Wisdom of God, yet we know not all the Rules of it. We see in it what we ought to do, but we cannot discover in it what God ought to Will, nor is it our business to be very sollicitous to know it.

A great instance of what I have said, we have in the Damnation of an infinite number of Persons, whom God suffer'd to perish in times of Ignorance▪ and Error: God is infinitely Good: He loves all his Works; He wills that all Men should be sav'd, and come to the Knowledge of the Truth, for he has made them to injoy him. And yet the greatest number are Damn'd. They live and die in blindness, and will remain in it to all Eternity. Comes not this from his acting by the simplest means, and his following Order? See the Illustration upon the Fourth Chapter of the second Part concerning Method. We have shown, that according to Order, God ought not to prevent by Indeliberate Pleasures the See the first Illustration upon the Fifth Chapter. will of the first Man, whose Fall has disorder'd Nature. It was requisite that all Men should descend from one, not only because that is the most simple way, but for several too Theological and abstract Reasons to be here explain'd. In fine we ought to believe this conformable to the Order which God follows, and to the Wisdom he always consults in the intention, and execution of his designs. The first Man's Sin has produc'd infinite Evils, I confess, but certainly Order requir'd that God should permit it, and that he should instate Man in a peccable condition.

God minded to repair his laps'd Work, seldom gives Victorious Graces that prevail over the malice of the greatest Sinners. Sometimes he gives Graces useless to the conversion of the Receiver, though he foresees their inutility, and sometimes sheds them in great Plenty, yet with little effect: Commonly he acts as it were by degrees, giving Men secret inspirations of Self-denial and Repentance, as formerly he gave them Counsels in his Gospel. Thus he prepares them for the grace of Conversion, and last of all bestows it. Why all these round-about Methods and ways indirect? Would it not have been enough for him to have positively Will'd the Conversion of a Sinner, to have effected it in an efficacious and irresistible manner? But is not it visible that this proceeds from his acting by the simplest Methods, and Orders willing it, though we do not always see it? For God must necessarily follow Order, and Wisdom in his actings, though these are Unfathomable Abysses to the Mind of Man. There are certain most simple Laws in the Order of Grace, by which God for the most part acts: For this Order has its Rules as well as that of Nature, though we know them not, as we see those of the Communications of Motions. Only let us follow the Counsels which are given us in the Gospel by him, who perfectly knows the Laws of Grace.

This I say to pacify the unjust Complaints of Sinners, who despise the Counsels of JESUS CHRIST, and charge their Malignity and disorders upon God. They would have God show Miracles in their behalf, and dispense with the general Laws of Grace. They lead their Life in Pleasures, they seek out for Honours, and daily renew those wounds which sensible Objects have given their Brain, and add more to them, and after this expect God should cure them by a Miracle. Not unlike wounded Men, who in the excess of their Pain tear their Cloaths, renovate their Wounds, and when in the sight of approaching Death, complain of the cruelty of their Surgeons. They would have God to save them, because say they, God is Good, Wise, Powerful, and needs but determine it, to make us happy. Why did he make us to damn and destroy us? They ought to know that God Wills they should be sav'd, and to that intent has done all that could be done by Order, and Wisdom, which he consults. We cannot believe that he deserts us, whilst he gives us his own Son to be our Mediator, and Sacrifice. Yes, God is willing that all Mankind should be sav'd; but by ways that we ought to study with care, and follow with caution and weariness. God is not to consult our Passions, in the Execution of his designs: He can have no regard but to his Eternal Wisdom, nor follow any other rule than the Divine Order, which Order will have us imitate JESUS CHRIST, and obey his Counsels, for our Sanctification and Salvation. But if God has not predestin'd all Men to be conformable to the Image of his Son, who is the Model, and Exemplar of the Elect: 'Tis because herein God acts by the most simple means, with reference to his designs, which all make for his Glory: 'Tis because God is an universal Cause, which ought not to act like particular Causes, which have particular Volitions for all they do. 'Tis because his Wisdom, which in this respect, is an Abyss to our apprehensions, Wills it so. Lastly, 'tis because this Conduct is more worthy of God than could be any other more favourable for the Reprobate. For even they are condemn'd hy an Order as worthy our Adorations, as that whereby the Elect are sanctified and sav'd: And nothing but our Ignorance of Order, and our Self-love, make us blame a Conduct which the Angels and Saints eternally admire. But let us return to the proofs of the efficacy of second Causes.

ARGUMENT V.

If Bodies had not a certain Nature or Force to act with, and if God did all things, there would be nothing but what was Supernatural, in the most ordinary effects. The distinction of Natural, and Supernatural, which has been so well receiv'd in the World, and establisht by the universal approbation of the Learn'd, would be Chimerical and Extravagant.

ANSWER.

[Page]

I answer that distinction is absurd in the Mouth of Aristotle, since the Nature he has establisht is a meer Chimera. I say that distinction is not clear in the mouth of the Vulgar part of Men, who judge of things by the Impression they make upon their Senses. For they know not precisely what they mean when they say, the Fire burns by it's Nature. I say that this distinction may pass in the mouth of a Divine, if he means by natural Effects, the consequences of the General Laws which God has settled for the production and preservation of all things: And by supernatural Effects those which are independent on these Laws. In this sense the Distinction is true. But the Philosophy of Aristotle together with the Impression of the senses, makes it, as I think, dangerous, because it may divert from God the too respectful admirers of the Opinions of that wretched Philosopher; or such as consult their senses instead of retiring into themselves to consult the Truth. And therefore that distinction is not to be made use of without an Explication, St. Austin having us'd the word fortune, retracted it, though there are few that could be deceiv'd by it.Lib. 1. de Retract. 1 Cor. 10.19. St. Paul speaking of meats offer'd to Idols, advertises that an Idol is nothing. If the Nature of the Heathen Philosophy be a fiction, if that nature be nothing, it should be precaution'd, for that there are many who are abus'd by it: And more than we suppose who inconsiderately attribute to it the Works of God, who are taken up with this Idol, or fiction of the Humane mind, and pay it those Honours which are only due to the Divinity. They are willing to let God be Author of Miracles, and some Extraordinary effects, which in one sense, are little worthy of his Greatness and Wisdom, and they refer to the Power of their Imaginary nature those constant and regular Effects, which none but the Wise know how to admire. They suppose too that this so wonderful disposition which all living Bodies have to preserve themselves, and beget their like, is a production of their Nature: For according to these Philosophers the Sun and Man beget a Man.

We may still distinguish between supernatural and natural Order, several ways. For we may say that the supernatural relates to future Goods; that it is establish't, upon consideration of the merits of CHRIST; that it is the first and principal in the designs of God; and other things enough to preserve a distinction, which they are vainly apprehensive should fall to the ground.

ARGUMENT VI.

The main proof which is brought by the Philosophers for the Efficacy of second Causes, is drawn from the will and liberty of Man, Man wills, and determines of himself. But to Will and Determine is to Act. 'Tis certainly Man who commits Sin, God not being the Author of it, any more than of Concupiscence and Error. Therefore Man acts.

ANSWER.

I have sufficiently explain'd in several Places of the Treatise about the Search of Truth, what is the Will, and Liberty of Man, and especially in the first Chapter of the first Book, and in the first Illustration upon it; so that it is needless to repeat it again. I acknowledge Man Wills, and Determines himself, in as much as God causes him to Will; incessantly carries him towards good, and gives him all the Idea's and Sensations, by which he determines his Impression. I know likewise that Man alone commits Sin. But I deny that therein he does any thing; For Sin, Errour, and even Concupiscence are nothing. I have explain'd my self upon this Point in the first Illustration.

Man wills, but his Volitions are impotent in themselves; they produce nothing, and God works all notwithstanding them. For 'tis even God that makes our Will, by the Impression he gives us towards Good. All that Man has from himself are Nemo habet de suo nisi mendacium & peccatum, Concil. Araus. 2. Can. 22. Errour and Sin, which are nothing.

There is a great difference between our Minds and Bodies that are about us; I grant, Our Mind in one sense Wills, Acts, and Determines it self. Our own inward Consciousness is an evident Conviction. If we were destitute of Liberty, there could be no future Recompence and Punishment, for 'tis our Liberty that makes our Actions good or bad; and without it Religion would be but a Phantasm, and a Dream. But that which we cannot see clearly is, That Bodies have a force of Acting. This it is we cannot comprehend, and this we deny, when we deny the Efficacy of Second Causes.

Even the Mind acts not in that measure which is imagin'd. I know that I will, and that I Will freely; I have no Reason to doubt of it; which is stronger than that inward feeling I have of my self. Nor do I deny it, but I deny that my Will is the In the Sence explain'd in the Chapter belonging to this Illustration. true Cause of the Motion of my Arm, of the Idea's of my Mind, and of other things which accompany my Volitions. For I see no Relation between so different things: Nay, I most clearly see there can be no Analogy between my Will to move my Arm, and the Agitation of some little Bodies, whose Motion and Figure I do not know, which make choice of certain Nervous Canals, amongst a Million of others unknown to me, in Order to cause in me the Motion I desire, by a World of Motions, which I desire not. I deny that my Will produces in me my Idea's: I cannot see how 'tis possible it should; for since it cannot Act or Will without Knowledge, it supposes my Idea's, but does not make them. (Nay, I do not so much as know precisely what an Idea is.) I cannot tell, whether we produce them out of nothing, and send them back to the same nothing, when we cease to perceive them. I speak after the Notion of some Persons.

[Page]I produce, you'll say, my Idea's by the Faculty, which God gives me of Thinking. I move my Arm, because of the Union which God has establish'd between my Mind and Body. Faculty, Vnion, are Logical Terms, of loose and indeterminate Signification. There is no particular Being, nor Mode of Being, which is either Faculty or Vnion. Therefore these Terms ought to be explain'd. If, you'll say, that the Union of my Mind and Body consists, in God's willing, That, upon my Desire to move my Arm, the Animal Spirits should betake themselves to the Muscles it is compos'd of, to move it in the manner desir'd: I clearly understand this Explication, and receive it: But this is exactly my own Assertion. For if my Will determine that of God, 'tis evident, that my Arm is mov'd, not by my Will, which is impotent of it self, but by the Will of God, which never fails of its Effect.

But if it be said, The Union of my Mind and Body consists in God's giving me a I still mean a true and efficacious Force. Force to move my Arm, as he has given my Body likewise a Force of making me feel Pleasure and Pain; to the end I may be sollicitous for this Body, and be concern'd for its Preservation; certainly this is to suppose the thing in dispute, and to make a Circle. No Man has a clear Idea of that Force which the Soul has over the Body, or the Body over the Soul; nor knows very well what he says when he positively asserts it. That Opinion has been embrac'd through Prejudice, has been learn'd in Infancy, and in the Age of Sense. But Understanding, Reason, and Reflexion have no part in it; which is manifest enough from what I have said in the foregoing Treatise.

But you'll say, I know by my inward Conscience of my Action, that I really have this Force; and therefore am not mistaken in believing it. I answer, That when I move my Arm, I am conscious to my self of the Actual Volition by which I move it; and I err not in believing I have that Volition. I have moreover an inward Sense of a certain Effort or Endeavour, which accompanies this Volition, and it is to believ'd that I make this Endeavour. Last of all, I grant that It seems evident to me that the Mind knows not by internal Sensation, or Conscience, the motion of the Arm she Animates. She knows by Conscience only what she feels, or thinks. By inward Sensation, or Conscience, we know the sense we have of the Motion of our Arm. But Conscience does not notify the Motion of our Arm, or the pain we suffer in it, any more than the Colours we see upon Objects. Or if this will not be granted, I say, that inward Sensation is not infallible, for Error is generally found in the Sensations when they are compos'd. I have sufficiently prov'd it in the first Book of the Search after Truth. I have an inward feeling of the Motion of my Arm, at the instant of this Effort; which suppos'd, I agree to what is said, That the Motion of the Arm is perform'd at the instant a Man feels this Effort, or has a practical Volition of moving his Arm. But I deny that this Effort, which is no more than a Modification, or Sensation of the Soul, which is given us to make us understand our Weakness, and to afford us a confus'd and obscure Sensation of our Strength, can be capable of moving, and determining the Spirits. I deny there is any Analogy or Proportion between our Thoughts, and the Motions of Matter. I deny that the Soul has the least Knowledge of the Animal Spirits, which she imploys to move the Body Animated by her. Last of all, Though the Soul exactly knew the Animal Spirits, and were capable of moving them, or determining their Motions, yet I deny that with all this she could make choice of these Ductus of the Nerves, of which she has no Knowledge, so as to drive the Spirits into them, and thereby move the Body with that Readiness, Exactness, and Force; as is observable even in those who are the least acquainted with the Structure of their Body.

For supposing that our Volitions are truly the moving Force of Bodies, (howbeit that seems inconceivable) how can we conceive the Soul moves her Body? The Arm for Example is mov'd by means of an inflation or contraction caus'd by the Spirits in some of the Muscles, that compose it. But to the end the Motion imprinted by the Soul on the Spirits in the Brain may be Communicated to those in the Nerves, and from thence to others in the Muscles of the Arm, the Volitions of the Soul must needs multiply, or change in proportion to those almost infinite shocks or Collisions, that are made by the little Bodies that constitute the Spirits. But this is inconceivable, without admitting in the Soul, an infinite number of Volitions, upon the least Motion of the Body, since the moving it would necessarily demand an innumerable multitude of Communications of Motions. For in short, the Soul being but a particular Cause; and not able to know exactly the degrees of agitation, and the dimensions of infinite little Corpuscles, which encounter, upon the dispersion of the Spirits into the Muscles; she could not settle a General Law for the Communication of these Spirits Motion, nor follow it exactly, if she had establish't it. Thus it is evident, the Soul could not move her Arm, although she had the Power of determining the Motion of the Animal Spirits. These things are too clear to be longer insisted on.

The case is the same with our Thinking Faculty. We are inwardly conscious that we Will the Thinking on something; that we make an effort to that purpose, and that in the Moment of our desire and effort, the Idea of the thing presents it self to our Mind, but our inward Sensation does not tell us, that our Will or Effort produces our Idea. Reason does not assure us that it's possible; and only prejudice makes us believe that our desires are the causes of our Ideas, whilst we experiment an hundred times a Day, that the latter accompany or pursue the former. As God and his Operations have nothing sensible in them, and as we are not conscious of any thing but our desires that precede the presence of our Ideas, so we do not think our Ideas can have any other cause than these desires. But view the thing closely, and we shall see no force in us to produce them; neither Reason nor Conscience giving us any information thereupon.

I don't think my self oblig'd to transcribe all the other proofs employ'd by the patrons for the Efficacy of Second Causes. Because they seem so trifling that I might be thoughts to design to render them Ridiculous: And I should make my self so, if I gave them a Serious Answer. An Author, for Example, very gravely asserts in behalf of his Opinion: Created Beings are true Material, [Page]Formal, Final Causes, why must not they likewise, be Efficient or Efficacious? I fancy I should give the World little satisfaction, if to answer this Gentlemans Question, I should stand to explain so gross an Ambiguity, and show the difference between an Efficacious cause and that which the Philosophers are pleas'd to call material. Therefore I leave such arguments as these to come to those which are drawn from Holy-Writ.

ARGUMENT VII.

The Defenders of the Efficacay of Second Causes, commonly alledge the following Passages to support their Opinion. Let the Earth bring forth Grass: Gen. 1. Let the Waters bring forth the moving Creature that hath Life, and Fowl that may fly, &c. Therefore the Earth and Water, by the Word of God, receiv'd the Power of producing Plants, and Animals. Afterwards God Commanded the Fowls and Fishes to multiply, Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the Waters in the Seas, and let Fowl multiply in the Earth. Therefore he gave them a Power of begetting their like.

Our Saviour in the fourth Chapter of St. Mark says, the Seed which falls on good Ground, brings forth Fruit an Hundred-fold, and that the Earth bringeth forth Fruits of her self, first the blade then the Ear, after that the full Corn in the Ear. Lastly, it is written in the Book of Wisdom, that the Fire had as it were forgotten it's strength to Burn, in favour of the People of God. It is therefore certain from the Old and New Testament, that Second Causes have an Active Force.

ANSWER.

I answer, that in Holy-Writ there are many Passages which ascribe to God the pretended Efficacy of Second Causes, some of which are these. I am the Lord that maketh ALL THINGS,Isa. 44.24. Job 10.8. that stretcheth forth the Heavens ALONE, that spreadeth abroad the Earth by MY SELF. Thine hands have made me and fashion'd me Vulg. totum. 2 Macc. Ch. 7. v▪ 22, 23. Acts 17▪25. Psal. 104, 14. together round about.

I cannot tell how you came into my Womb.—It was not I that form'd the Members of every one of you. But doubtless the Creator of the World who form [...]d the Generation of Man, &c. Seeing he giveth to Life, and breath, and all things. He causeth Grass to grow for the Cattle, and Herb for the service of Men, that he may bring forth food out of the Earth. There are infinite such like Passages, but let these suffice.

When an Author seems to Contradict himself: And Natural Equity, or a stronger Reason obliges us to reconcile him to himself; methinks we have an infallible Rule to discover his true Opinion. For we need but observe, when he speaks according to his own Light, and when after Common Opinion. When a Man Accommodates himself to the vulgar way of speaking, that is no sure sign he is of their Opinion. But when he says positively the contrary to what Custom Authorises, though he say it but once, we have Reason to conclude it his judgement, provided we know he speaks seriously and with Mature deliberattion.

For instance, when an Author speaking of the properties of Animals, shall say an hundred times over, that Beasts have sense, that Dogs know their Master, that they Love and Fear him; and but in two or three places shall affirm that Beasts are insensible, that Dogs are incapable of Knowledge, and that they neither Love nor Fear any thing; how shall we reconcile this Author to himself? Must we make a Collection of all his passages for and against it; and judge of his Opinion by the greater number? If so, I conceive there is no Man to whom, for example, may be attributed this Opinion, That Animals have no Soul. For even the Cartesians most frequently say, that a Dogs feels when he is beaten, and rarely it is that they affirm he does not feel. And although I my self encounter a vast multitude of prejudices in this Treatise, yet many passages may be gather'd from it, by which, unless this present Rule be admitted, it may be prov'd that I confirm them all, and even that I hold the Opinion of the Efficacy of Second Causes, which I am now refuting; or it may be it might be concluded that the Search after Truth abounds with gross and palpable contradictions, as do some Persons who I fear have not Equity, and penetration enough, to set up for judges of the Works of others.

Holy Scripture, and Fathers, and most Religious Men, speak oftner of sensible Goods, Riches, and Honours, in the vulgar Opinion, than by the true Ideas they have of them. Our LORD brings in Abraham saying to the Wicked Rich Man, Son, thou hast receiv'd thy GOOD things in thy Life time; that is, to say, Riches and Honour. What we by prejudice call Good, our Good, that is Gold and Silver, is stil'd in Scripture, in an hundred places our Sustenance, and Substance, and even our honesty, or that which Honours us, Paupertas & Honestas à Deo sunt. Engl. Poverty and Riches. Eccl. 11.14. Must these ways of speaking us'd by the Holy Scripture, and the most Religious Persons, make us believe that they contradict themselves, or that Riches and Honours are truly our goods, and worthy our Love and our Researches? No, doubtless; Because the Modes of Speech, suiting with prejudices, signify nothing: And that we see elsewhere that Our SAVIOUR has compar'd Riches to Thorns, has told us, we must renounce them; that they are deceitful, and that all that's great and glorious in the World is an abomination in the sight of God. Therefore we must not heap together the Passages of Scripture or the Fathers, to judge of their Opinions by the greater number, unless we will attribute to them every Moment, the most irrational prejudices in the World.

This being suppos'd, 'tis plain that Holy Scripture says positively, 'tis God that makes all even to the Grass of the Field, that arrays the Lillies with such Ornaments as CHRIST prefers before those of Solomon in all his Glory. 'Tis not only two or three, but innumerable Passages, [Page] that Attribute to God the pretended Efficacy of Second Causes; and overthrow the Nature of the Peripateticks.

Besides, we are inclin'd as it were by a kind of Natural prejudice not to think on God, in Ordinary Effects. And to attribute force and Efficacy to Second Causes, for the generality none but Miraculous Effects can make us think on God as the Author; and the sensible impression engages us in the Opinion of Second Causes. The Philosophers hold this Opinion, because, say they, the Senses evince it. Which is their mightiest Argument. Lastly, this Opinion is receiv'd by all that follow the judgment of their Senses. The Language is accommodated to this prejudice, and 'tis as commonly said, That Fire has a Power to Burn, as that Silver and Gold are a Man's Goods. Wherefore those Passages which the Scripture or Fathers afford us for the Efficacy of Second Causes, prove no more than those; That an Ambitious or Covetous Person would choose for the vindication of his Behaviour. But we are not to say so of those Expressions that may be brought for the proof of God's Working all in all. For since this Opinion is repugnant to prejudice, the Passages that assert it, are to be interpreted in their utmost Rigour: For the same Reason that we are to conclude it the Sentiment of a Cartesian, that Beasts are Insensible, though he should say it but now and then, and should constantly in common Discourse say the contrary; as that they Feel, See, and Hear.

In the first Chapter of Genesis, God Commands the Earth to produce Plants, and Animals, and Orders the Waters to bring forth Fish, and Consequently say the Peripateticks the Water and Earth, were indu'd with a competent Virtue, to produce these Effects.

I cannot see the certainty of this conclusion; nor any necessity of admitting this consequence, though we were oblig'd to explain this Chapter by it self, without recourse to other passages of Scripture. This method of expounding the Creation, is adapted to our way of conceiving things, and so there is no necessity of our taking it Literally, nor ought we to lay it as a Foundation to our prejudices. Since we see Animals, and Plants on the Earth, Fowls inhabiting the Air, and Fishes living in the Water, God, to let us understand, that his Order constituted them in these Places, produc'd them therein. From the Earth he form'd Animals, and Plants, not that the Earth was capable of Generating, or as if God had to that intent given it a force, and Vertue which it retains till now; (For we are sufficiently agreed that the Earth does not Procreate Horses and Oxen) but because out of the Earth the Bodies of Animals were form'd, as is said in the following Chapter. Out of the ground the Lord form'd every Beast of the field, and every Fowl of the Air. The Animals were form'd out of the gound,Gen. 2.19. (formatis de humo animantibus, says the Vulgar Latin) and not produc'd by it. Therefore when Moses had related how Beasts and Fish were produc'd by Vertue of the Command which God gave the Earth and Water to produce them, he adds that it was God that made them, Ch. 1.21. lest we should attribute their Production to the Earth and Water. And God CREATED great Whales, and every living Creature that moveth, which the WATERS BROVGHT FORTH abundantly after their kind, and every winged Fowl after his kind, and a little lower, after he had spoken of the formation of Animals, he adjoyns, And GOD MADE the Beast of the Earth after his kind, and Cattel after their kind, and every thing that creepeth on the Earth after his kind.

But 'tis observable, by the way, That what the Vulgar Translates, Producant aquae reptile animae viventis, & volatile super terram, and our English, Let the Water bring forth abundantly the moving Creature that hath Life, and Fowl that may fly above the Earth, the Hebrew has it Volatile VOLITET, Let the Fowl fly above the Earth: Which distinction shows, as is evident from the fore-cited passage of the next Chapter, that Fowls were not produc'd from the Water, and that it was not Moses's design to prove that the Waters were truly empower'd to produce Fish and Fowl, but only to denote the respective place design'd for each, by the Order of God, whether to live, or to be produc'd in; Et volatile VOLITET super Terram. For commonly when we say that the Earth produces Trees, and Plants, we only mean to signifie that it furnishes Water, and Salts, which are necessary to the Germination, and increase of Seeds. But I dwell no longer on the Explication of these Scripture Passages, which Literally taken, make for Second Causes: For we are so far from being oblig'd, that it is sometimes dangerous to take Expressions in the Letter, which are founded on common Opinion, by which the Language is form'd. For the vulgar part of Men speak of all things according to the Impressions of Sense, and the Prejudices of Infancy.

The same Reason which constrains us to interpret Literally such Scripture Passages, as directly oppose Prejudices, gives us Reason to believe the Fathers never design'd ex proposito, to maintain the Efficacy of Second Causes, or the Nature of Aristotle. For though they often speak in a manner that countenances Prejudices, and the Judgments of Sense, yet they sometimes so explain themselves, as to manifest the disposition of their Mind and Heart. St. Austin, for instance, gives us sufficiently to understand, That he believed the Will of God, to be the Force and Nature of every thing,Omnia quippe portenta contra naturam dicimus esse, sed non sunt. Quomodo enim est contra naturam, quod Dei fit voluntate? Cum voluntas tanti utique creatoris conditae rei cujusque natura sit? Portentum ergo fit non contra naturam, sed contra quàm est nota natura. S. Aug. de Civita. De▪i l. 21. c. 8. when he speaks thus, We are wont to say, but not truly, that Prodigies are against Nature; For the Nature of every Creature being but the Will of the Creator; How can that which is done by the Will of God be contrary to Nature? Miracles therefore and Prodigies are not against Nature, but against what we know of it.

'Tis true, St. Austin speaks in several places according to Prejudices: But I affirm that that is no Argument; for we are not Literally to explain, but those Expressions which are contrary to them; for which I have given the Reasons.

[Page]If St. Austin in his Works, had said nothing against the Efficacy of Second Causes, but had always favour'd this Opinion, his Authority might be made use of to confirm it. But if it should not appear that he had industriously examin'd that Question, we might still have reason to think he had no settled and resolv'd Opinion about the Subject, but was, it may be, drawn by the Impression of the Senses inconsiderately to believe a thing which no Man would doubt of, before he had carefully examin'd it.

'Tis certain for example that St. Austin always speaks of Beasts, as if they had a Soul, I say not a Corporeal Soul; for that Holy Father too well knew the distinction of the Soul and Body, to think there were Corporeal Souls; I say a Spiritual Soul, for Matter is incapable of Sense. And yet it would seem, methinks, more reasonable, to employ the Authority of St. Austin to prove that Beasts have not a Soul, than to prove they have.Some of St. Austin's Principles are these. What has never sinned, can not suffer evil. But according to him, Pain is the greatest Evil, and Beasts suffer it. That the more Noble cannot have the less Noble for its end. But with him the Soul of Beasts is Spiritual, and more Noble than the Body, and yet has no other End. That what is Spiritual is Immortal, yet the Soul of Beasts, though Spiritual, is subject to Death. Many such like Principles there are in his Works, whereby it may be concluded, That Beasts have no such Spiritual Soul as he admits in them. For from the Principles which he has carefully examin'd, and strongly establish'd, it manifestly follows they have none, as is shown by Ambrosius Victor, in his Sixth Volume of Christian Philosophy. But the Opinion that Beasts have a Soul, and are sensible of Pain when we strike them, being consonant to Prejudices, (for there is no Child but believes it;) we have still reason to believe that he speaks according to Custom and Vulgar Opinion; and that if he had seriously examin'd the Question, and once began to doubt and make reflexion, he would never have said a thing so contrary to his Principles.

And thus, though all the Fathers had constantly favour'd the Efficacy of Second Causes, yet, it may be, no regard were due to their Opinion, unless it appear'd that they had carefully Examin'd the Question, and that their Assertions, were not the results of common Speech, which is form'd and founded upon Prejudices. But the case is certainly quite contrary; for the Fathers, and such as were most Holy, and best acquainted with Religion, have commonly manifested in some places or other of their Works, what was their Disposition of Mind and Heart, in reference to the present Question.

The most Understanding, and indeed the greatest number of Divines, seeing that on one hand the Holy Scripture was repugnant to the Efficacy of Second Causes, and on the other, that the Impression of the Senses, the publick Vote, and especially Aristotle's Philosophy, which was had in veneration by the Learned, establish it: For Aristotle believ'd God unconcern'd in the particulars of Sublunary Transactions; That that change was below his Majesty, and that Nature which he supposes in all Bodies, suffic'd to produce all that was done below. The Divines, I say, have so equally balanc'd these Two, as to reconcile Faith with Heathen Philosophy, Reason with Sense, and to make Second Causes ineffective without the additional concourse of God Almighty. But because that immediate concourse, whereby God acts jointly with Second Causes includes great difficulties, some Philosophers have rejected it, pretending that in Order to their Acting, there needs no more than that God should continue to them their Vertue he endow'd them with in their Creation. And since this Opinion is exactly agreeable with Prejudice, because of the insensible Operation of God, in Second Causes, it is commonly embrac'd by the vulgar sort of Men, and such as have more studied Ancient Naturalists and Physicians, than Theology and Truth. Most are of Opinion that God created all things at first, and gave them all the Qualities and Faculties that were necessary to their preservation; that he has, for example, given the first Motion of Matter, and left it afterwards to it self, to produce, by the Communication of its Motions that admirable variety of Forms we see. 'Tis Ordinarily suppos'd that Bodies can move one another; and this is said to be Mr. des Cartes's Opinion, though he speaks expresly against it, in the Thirty Sixth and Seventh Articles of the Second Part of his Philosophical Principles. Since Men must unavoidably acknowledge that the Creatures depend on God, they lessen and abridge, as much as possible, that dependance, whether out of a secret Aversion to God, or a strange and wretched stupidity and insensibility to his Operation. But whereas this Opinion is receiv'd but by those who have not much studied Religion, and have preferr'd their Senses to their Reason, and Aristotle's Authority to that of Holy Writ, we have no reason to fear its making way into the Mind of those, who have any Love for Truth and Religion; for provided a Man seriously examin'd it, he must needs discover its falsity. But the Opinion of God's Immediate Concourse to every Action of Second Causes, seems to accord with those Passages of Scripture, which often attribute the same Effect, both to GOD and the Creature.

We must consider then, that there are places in Scripture, where 'tis said that God is the only Agent: I am the Lord that maketh all things, that stretcheth forth the Heavens alone, Ch. 44.24. 2 Mac. 7.22, & 23. that spreadeth abroad the Earth by my self. Ego sum Dominus, says Isaiah, faciens OMNIA, Extendens coelos SOLVS, stabiliens Terram, & NVLLVS Mecum. A Mother Animated with the Spirit of God, tells her Children, it was not her that form'd them, I cannot tell how you came into my Womb: For I neither gave you Breath nor Life, neither was it I that form'd the Members of every one of you: But doubtless the Creator of the World, &c. Nescio qualiter in utero meo apparuistis, singulorum membra NON EGO IPSA COMPEGI, sed mundi Creator. Sol & homo generant [...]ominem. Arist. Phy. Ausc. l. 2. c. 2. She does not say with Aristotle, and the School of the Peripateticks that to her, and the Sun, they ow'd their Birth; but to the Creator of the Universe. Which Opinion that God only Works, and forms Children in their Mothers Womb, not being conformable to Prejudice and Common Opinion; These Sentences [Page] according to the pre-establish'd Principle,See St. Th. upon the Text. must be explain'd in the Literal Sense. But on the contrary, the Notion of Second Causes falling in with the vulgar Opinion, and being Suited to the sensible impression; the Passages which expresly make for the separate Efficacy of Second Causes, must be reckon'd invalid when compar'd with the former. Concourse therefore is insufficient to reconcile the different Texts of Scripture; and all Force, Power and Efficacy must be ascrib'd to God.

But though the immediate concurrence of God with Second Causes, were fit to accommodate the disagreeing passages of Holy Writ, yet after all it is a question whether it ought to be admitted. For the Sacred Books were not compos'd for the Theologists of these times, but for the People of the Jews. So that if this People had not understanding, or Subtilty enough, to imagine a Concourse, such as is admitted in School-Divinity, and to agree to a thing which the greatest Divines are hard put to, to explain, it follows, if I mistake not, that the Holy Scripture which Attributes to God, and even to God alone, the production and preservation of all things, would have betray'd them into Error. And the Holy Pen-Men had stood chargeable with writing not only in an unintelligible, but deceitful Language. For in saying that God Work'd all, they would have design'd no more than that God assisted to all things with his concourse, which was not probably so much as thought on by the Jews; Those amongst them, who were not very great Philosophers, believing, that God Work'd all, and not that he concurr'd to all.

But that we may pass a more certain judgement about this Concourse, it would be requisite to explain with care the different Hypotheses of the School-Men upon it. For besides, those impenetrable Clouds, and Obscurities which involve all the Opinions, that cannot be explain'd and defended without loose and indefinite Terms; there are upon this Matter so great a variety of Opinions, that it would be no hard Matter to discover the cause of them. But I design not to engage in a discussion that would be so wearisom to my self as well as the greatest part of Readers: On the contrary, I had rather try to show that my Opinions may in some thing accord with those of the greater number of Scholastick Divines, though I cannot but say their Language looks very Ambiguous and confus'd. To explain my self.

I am of Opinion, as I have said elsewhere, that Bodies for example have no Force to move themselves, and that therefore their moving force is nothing but the Action of God; or not to make use of a Term which has no distinct import, their moving force is nothing but the Will of God, always necessarily Efficacious, which successively preserves them in different Places. For I believe not that God Creates any particular Beings, to make the moving force of Bodies; not only because I have no Idea of such a kind of Being, nor see how they could move Bodies: But also because these Beings themselves would have need of others to move them, and so in infinitum. For none but God is truely Immoveable, and Mover altogether.

Which being so, when a Body strikes, and moves another, I may say that it Acts by the Concurrence of God, and that this Concurrence is not distinct from its own Action. For a Body meeting another moves it, by its Action, or its moving force, which at bottom is nothing but the Will of God preserving the Body successively in different Places, the translation of a Body being not it's Action, or moving force, but the Effect of it. Almost all Divines say too, that the Action of Second Causes is not different from that of God's Concurrence with them. For though they have a various Meaning, yet they suppose that God Acts in the Creatures by the same Action as the Creatures. And they are oblig'd, if I mistake not, thus to speak: For if the Creatures Acted by an Action which God Work'd not in them, their Action, consider'd as such, would no doubt, be independent. But they acknowledge, as it becomes them, that the Creatures depend immediately on God, not only as to their Being, but likewise as to their Operation.

So likewise, in point of free Causes, I believe that God incessantly gives the Mind an Impression towards Good in General, and that he moreover determines this Impression towards particular Goods, by the Idea's or Sensations that he gives us, as I have explain'd in the first Illustration; which is the same with what the Divines intend, by affirming, That God moves, and prevents our Wills. Thus the Force which puts our Minds in Motion, is the Will of God, which Animates us, and inclines us towards Good. For God Creates not Beings to constitute the moving force of Minds, for the same Reason that he Creates none to be the moving force of Bodies. The Wills of God being of themselves Efficacious, He need but Will, to do. And we ought not to multiply Beings without necessity. Besides, whatever is real in the determinations of our Motions, proceeds likewise from the Action of God in us, as appears from the first Illustration. But all we Act or produce, is by our Wills, that is, by the Impression of the Will of God, which is our moving force. For our Wills are Efficacious no farther than they are of God, as mov'd Bodies impel not others, but in as much as they have a moving force that translates them; which is no other than the Will of God, which Creates or preserves them successively in different places. Therefore we Act no otherwise than by the Concourse of God;V. Suarez l. 1. de concursu Dei cum voluntate. and our Action consider'd as Efficacious, and capable of producing any Effect, differs not from his, but is, as say most Divines, the self same Action, eadem numero actio.

Now all the Changes which arrive in the World have no other Natural Cause, than the Motions of Bodies, and Volitions of Minds. For, First, by the General Laws of the Communications of Motions, the invisible Bodies which surround the visible, produce, by their various Motions, all these divers Changes, whose Cause is not apparent. And, Secondly, by the Laws of Union of our Soul and Body, when circumambient Bodies Act upon our own, they produce in our Soul a multiplicity of Sensations, Idea's, and Passions. Thirdly, Our Mind, by its Volitions, produces in it self infinite [Page] different Idea's; for they are our Volitions, which as Natural Causes intend, and Modifie our Mind: Their Efficacy, nevertheless, proceeds from the Laws which God has establish'd. And, Lastly, when our Soul acts upon our Body, she produces several Changes in it, by vertue of the Laws of her Union with it; and by means of our Body she effects in those about it abundance of Changes, by vertue of the Laws of Communication of Motions. So that the Motions of Bodies and the Volitions of Minds, are the only Natural, or Occasional Causes of Natural Effects, which no Man will deny who uses any Attention; supposing only, he be not prepossest by those who understand not what they say, who fancy perpetually to themselves such Beings as they have no clear Idea's of, and who offer to explain things which they do not understand, by others absolutely incomprehensible. Thus having shown that God by his Concourse, or rather by his Efficacious Will, performs whatever is done by the Motions of Bodies, and the Wills of Minds, as Natural or Occasional Causes, it appears that God does every thing by the same Action of the Creature. Not that the Creatures have of themselves any Efficacious Action, but that the Power of God is in a manner Communicated to them, by the Natural Laws which God has establish'd on their account.

This then is all that I can do to reconcile my Thoughts to the Opinion of those Divines, who defend the necessity of immediate Concourse, and hold that God does All in all things by an Action no ways differing from the Creatures. For, as to the rest of the Divines,Durand. in 2 dist. Qu. 5. & Dist. 37. De Genesi ad li [...]eram l. 5. c. 20. I think their Opinions utterly indefensible, and especially that of Durandus, together with the Sentiments of some of the Ancients, refuted by St. Austin, who absolutely deni [...]d the necessity of God's Concurrence, pretending, that Second Causes did all things by the Power which God in their Creation gave them. For though this Opinion be less intricate and perplex'd, than that of other Divines, yet to me it seems so repugnant to Scripture, and so suitable to Prejudices, to say no worse of it, that I think it altogether unwarrantable▪

I confess that the School-Men, who make God's immediate concourse to be the same Action with that of the Creatures, do not perfectly agree with my Explication; and all those that I have read,In 4 Sent. Dist. 1. q. 1. D Aliaco ibid. except Biel and Cardinal d' Ailly, are of Opinion, That the Efficacy which produces Effects proceeds from the Second Cause as well as the First. But as I make it indispensable for me to speak nothing but what I clearly conceive, and always to take the side that best comports with Religion, I think I am not liable to blame, for deserting an Opinion which to many Men seems still more inconceiveable, as they strive more to comprehend it; and for establishing another, which agrees perfectly not only with Reason, but also with the Sacredness of our Religion, and Christian Morality, which is a Truth already prov'd in the Chapter that's the Subject of these Reflexions. However 'tis not inconvenient to say something to it, that I may fully verifie what I have said upon the present Question.

Both Reason and Religion evince, That God will be Lov'd, and rever'd by his Creatures: Lov'd as Good, and Rever'd as Power. Which is such a Truth as it would be Impiety and Madness to doubt of. To love God, as he requires and deserves, we must, according to the First Commandment, both of the Law and Gospel, and by Reason it self, as I have Book 4. c. 1. somewhere shown, Love Him with all our Strength, or with the whole extent of our Loving Capacity. 'Tis not sufficient to prefer Him before all things, unless we moreover Love Him in all things. For otherwise our Love is not so perfect as it ought to be, and we return not to God all the Love that he gives us, and gives us only for Himself, in whom every one of His Actions Center.

So to render to God all the Reverence that is due to Him; 'tis not enough to adore Him, as the Supreme Power, and fear Him more than His Creatures; we must likewise fear and adore Him in all His Creatures; all our respects must perpetually tend towards Him, to whom alone Honour and Glory are to be ascrib'd: Which is what God Commands us in these Words:Deut. c. 6. Thou shalt Love the Lord thy God, with all thy Heart, and with all thy Soul, and with all thy Strength. And in these: Thou shalt fear the Lord thy God, and Him only shalt thou serve. Thus the Philosophy that convinces us that the Efficacy of Second Causes is a Fiction of the Mind, that the Nature of Aristotle, and some other Philosophers, is a Chimera, that none but God is Strong and Powerful enough, not only to Act on our Soul, but even to give the least Motion to Matter. This Philosophy, I say, perfectly Accommodates with Religion, whose end is to Unite us to God in the strictest Bonds.

'Tis Customary with us to Love only those things which are capable of doing us some Good. This Philosophy therefore Authorises only the Love of God, and Condemns the Love of every thing else. We ought to fear nothing but what is able to do us some Evil. Therefore this Philosophy approves the fear of God, and absolutely Condemns all other: Thus it justifies all the just and Reasonable Motions of our Soul, and Condemns all those that are contrary to Reason and Religion: For we can never justifie the Love of Riches, the desire of Greatness, the Extravagance of Debauchery by this Philosophy, by the Principles whereof, the Love for Bodies is absurd and ridiculous.

'Tis an indisputable Truth, 'tis a Natural Opinion, 'tis even a Common Notion that we ought to Love the cause of our Pleasure, and to Love it proportionably to the Felicity it either Actually does, or is able to possess us with. 'Tis not only just, but as it were necessary that the cause of our happiness, should be the Object of our Love. Therefore this Philosophy will teach us to Love God only, as being the only Cause of our Felicity: That surrounding Bodies cannot Act upon that we Animate; and consequently much less upon our Mind. That 'tis not the Sun which enlightens us, and gives us Life and Motion: Nor that fills the Earth with Fruits, and Beautifies it with Flowers, and supplies us with Food and Nourishment. This Philosophy seconding the Scripture, Acts 14.15.16. teaches that 'tis God alone who gives us Rain, and Regulates the Seasons, that fills our Bodies with [Page]Food, and our hearts with Joy, that he alone is able to do us good; and thereby has given a perpetual Testimony of what he is; though in the ages passed he suffer'd all Nations to walk in their own ways. According to the Language of this Philosophy, we must not say that 'tis Nature that fills us with good; nor that it is Ergo nihil agis, ingratissime mortalium, qui te negas Deo debere, sed naturae: quia nec naturae Deo est, nec Deus sine natura, sed idem est utrumque, nec distat. Officium si quod a Seneca accepisses, Annaeo diceres te debere, vel Lucio: Non creditorem mutares, sed nomen. Sen. l. 4. de Benef. God and Nature together: But that it is God alone, speaking thus without Ambiguity, for fear of deceiving the Ignorant. For we must distinctly acknowledge one cause of our happiness, if we we make it the only Object of our Love.

'Tis likewise an undeniable Truth, That we ought to fear things that are able to harm us, and to fear them, in Proportion to the Evil they can do us. But this Philosophy teaches us that God only can do us evil; that 'tis he, as says Isaiah, who forms the Light and creates Darkness, who makes Peace and creates Evil; Isa. 45.7. Amos. 3.6. and there is no Evil but what he does, as says the Prophet Amos. Therefore it is he only that is to be fear'd. We must not fear either Plague or War, or Famine, or our Enemies, or even Devils themselves: But God alone. We ought to shun the Sword, when we see a Blow a coming, we are to fly the Fire, and avoid a ruinous House that's ready to crush us; but we must not fear these things. We may fly from those Bodies which are the Occasional or Natural Causes of Evil, but we must fear God as the true Cause of all the misfortunes of Sinners; and hate only Sin which necessarily provokes the cause of our Happiness to become the Cause of our Misery: In a Word all the Motions of our Mind, must center upon God, since he alone's above it, and the Motions of our Body may relate to the Bodies round it. This is what we learn from that Philosophy that admits not the Efficacy of Second Causes.

But this Efficacy being suppos'd, I cannot see but we have reason to fear and Love Bodies; and that to regulate our Love by Reason, we need but prefer God before all things; the First and Vniversal, to every Second and Particular Cause. We can see no need of Loving him with all our Strength; Ex totâ mente, ex toto corde, ex totâ animâ, ex totis viribus, as says the Scripture.

Yet when a Man contents himself in preferring God to all things, and adoring him with a Worship, and a Love of Preference, without making a continual Effort to Love and Honour him in all things: It often fortunes that he deceives himself, that his Charity vanishes, and is lost: And that he is more taken up with sensible than the supream Good. For should it be demanded of the greatest Sinners, and even Idolaters, whether they preferr'd the universal to particular Causes, they would make no scruple to answer amidst their Debauches, Errours and Extravagance; that they are not wanting to their essential Duty, and that they are very sensible of what they owe to God. 'Tis acknowledg'd that they are deceiv'd. But take away the Efficacy of Second Causes, and they have no probable Pretext left to justifie their Conduct and Behaviour; whilst if it be granted them, they will think and Discourse with themselves in the following manner, when blinded by their Passions, and attentive to the Testimony of their Senses.

‘I am made for Happiness: Neitheir can I, nor indeed ought I, to supersede my Love and Respect, for whatever can be the Cause of my Felicity: Why then must not I Love and respect sensible Objects, if they be the true Causes of the Happiness I find in their Enjoyment? I acknowledge the Sovereign Being as only worthy of Sovereign Worship, and I prefer Him before all the World, But since I see not that He requires any thing from me, I enjoy the Goods he affords by Means of Second Causes, to which he has subjected me: And I pay not my Gratitude to him, which perhaps would be to his Dishonour. As he gives me no Blessing, immediately and by himself, or at least without the Assistance of his Creatures, 'tis a Sign he requires not the immediate Application of my Mind and Heart; at least, that he desires the Creatures should partake with him, in the Acknowledgments and Resentments of my Heart and Mind. Seeing he has communicated Part of his Power and Glory to the Sun, has environ'd him with Splendour and Majesty, and has given him the Supremacy in all his Works; and seeing from the Influence of this great Luminary, we receive all the necessary Blessings of Life; Why should we not employ a part of this indebted Life, in rejoicing in his Light, and testifying the Sense we have of his Greatness and his Benefits? Wou'd it not be the most shameful Ingratitude, to receive from that excellent Creature abundance of all things, and yet to shew no Sense of Gratitude to him for them? And should we not be unspeakably blind and stupid, to be unmov'd with Fear and Veneration in Respect of him, whose Absence freezes us to Death, and whose too near Approach can burn and destroy us? I say it again, that God is preferable to all things, and infinitely more estimable than his Creatures: But we are to fear and Love his Creatures also. For hereby we pay Legitimate Honour to their Creatour; Merit his good Graces, and oblige him to shower new Benefits upon us. 'Tis manifest, he approves of the Honour that is given to his Creatures; since they partake of his Power, and all Power deserves to be honour'd. But because Honour ought to be Proportion'd to Power, and that the Power of the Sun, and all other sensible Objects, is such, as derives to us all sorts of Goods, 'tis reasonable we should Honour them with all our Strength, and, next to God, Consecrate to them all our Being.’

These are the Natural Reasonings a Man would fall into, that should ground upon the Prejudice of the Efficacy of Second Causes; and probably such was the Arguing of the first Founders of Idolatry. Take here his Sense of it, who passes for the most Learned of all the Jews: He Prefaces a a Treatise he wrote about Idolatry with these Words. ‘In the days of Enos Men fell into strange Illusions, [...]. Moses Maimonid. and the Wise Men of that Age quite lost their Sense and Reason. Enos himself was one of those deluded Persons, whose Errours were these. Since God, said they, has created the Heavens and Stars to [Page] govern the World, has constituted them on [...]igh, and invested them with Glory and Lustre, and employs them in executing his Commands, 'tis just that we should honour them, and pay them our Deference and Homage. 'Tis the Will of our God, that Honour should be given to those whom he has exalted and enthron'd in Glory; as a Prince requires that his Ministers should be [...]onour'd in his Presence, because the Honour which is given to them redounds to himself.Vide Vossium, lib. 2. de Idololatri [...]. When once this Notion had entred their Head, they fell to building Temples in Honour of the Stars, gave them Sacrifice and Praises, and even prostrated themselves before them; thereby imagining to purchase the favour of Him that created them: And this was the Original of Idolatry.’

It is so Natural and just to have grateful Resentments in Proportion to the Goods we receive, that almost all Nations have ador'd the Sun, because they all concluded him the Cause of the Blessings they enjoy'd. And if the Aegyptians ador'd not only the Sun and Moon, and River Nile, Ipsi qui irridentur Aegyptii, nul [...]am belluam nisi ob aliquam [...] quam ex ea caperent, consecr [...]v [...] rant. Cic. l. 1. de N [...]tura Deorum. because its overflowing caus'd the Fertility of their Country, but even the vilest of Animals: 'Twas (as Cicero relates) from the Emolument they receiv'd from them. Therefore, as we cannot, and indeed ought not to Extirpate from Men's Minds, their Natural Inclination for the true Causes of their Happiness, 'tis evident there is at least some danger in ascribing Efficacy to Second Causes, though we conjoyn the necessity of an immediate Concourse, which has, methinks, I know not what of incomprehensible purport, and which strikes in as an after-game to justifie our imbib'd Prejudices, and Aristotle's Philosophy.

But there's no danger in speaking only what we see, and of Attributing only to God Efficacy and Power, since we see nothing but His Wills, which have an absolutely necessary and indispensible connexion with Natural Effects▪ I own that now adays, Men are Wise enough to avoid those gross Errors of Heathens and Idolaters; but I fear not to say, our Mind is still dispos'd, or rather our Heart is often bent like that of the Heathens; and that there will ever be in the World some kind of Idolatry, until the Day in which JESUS CHRIST shall restore up His Kingdom to God his Father, having first destroy'd all Empire Dominion and Power, that God may be All in all. For is it not a kind of Idolatry, to make a God of ones Belly, as speaks S. Paul?Phil. 3.9. No Whoremonger nor unclean Person, nor covetous Man, who is an Idolater, Eph. 5.5. Is not he an Idolater to the God of Riches, who labours Night and Day to acquire them? Is this to render to God the Worship we owe Him? Is this to adore Him in Spirit and in Truth, to have our Hearts fill'd with some sensible Beauty, and our Mind struck and dazled with the Lustre of some imaginary Grandeur?They that worship him, must Worship him in Spirit and in Truth, Joh. 4.24.

Men fancying to themselves, that Circumambient Bodies afford the pleasures they enjoy in the use of them, Unite to them with all the Powers of their Soul; and thus the Principle of their Corruption lies in the sensible Conviction of the Efficacy of Second Causes. 'Tis only Reason that assures them none but God Acts in them. But besides that, this Reason speaks so low that it is scarce Audible, and that the Contradicting Senses cry so loud, that their Clamour Stunns and Stupefies them, they are yet farther confirm'd in their Prejudice, by Reasons and Arguments that are so much dangerous, as they have more External Characters and sensible marks of Truth.

The Philosophers, but especially the Christian Philosophers, ought to wage an uninterrupted War with Prejudices, or the Judgements of their Senses, and particularly those of so dangerous importance, as that of the Efficacy of Second Causes. And yet there are Men, whom I extremely honour, (as I have just Reason) who from I know not what Principle endeavour to confirm this Prejudice, and to make so holy, so pure and solid a Doctrine as this, which owns no other true Cause than God, pass for Superstitious and Extravagant Opinion. They will not have us to Love and Fear God in all things, but to Love and Fear all things with reference to God. We ought, say they,Nos si hominem patrem vocamus honorem a [...]a [...]i deferimus, non Authorem vitae nostrae ostendimus. Hier. in c. 33. Matth. 1 Cor. 9.22. & 10.33. Eph. 6.6. Col. 3.22. to Love the Creatures, since they are good; to Love and respect our Father▪ to give Honour to our Prince and Superiours, since God Commands it. Nor do I deny it; but I deny that we are to Love the Creatures as our Goods, though they be good or perfect in themselves. I deny that we are to pay service and respect to Men as to our Masters. Or, to explain my self more clearly, I say, we must not serve our Master, obey our Father, or Prince, with any other design than to serve and obey God. S. Paul, who became all things to all Men, and was complaisant in all things; for the Salvation of those he Preach'd to, speaks thus: Servants be obedient to them that are your Masters, according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in singleness of your Heart, as unto CHRIST; not with Eye-Service, as Men pleasers, but as the Servants of Christ, doing the Will of God from the Heart, with good Will doing Service, AS TO THE LORD, AND NOT TO MEN. And in another Epistle. Not with Eye-Service, as to MEN, but in singleness of Heart, fearing GOD. And whatever ye do, do it Heartily, AS TO THE LORD, and NOT VNTO MEN. We must therefore obey our Father, serve our Prince, and Honour our Superiours, AS UNTO GOD AND NOT UNTO MEN. This is manifest, and can have no Evil consequences: For hereby Superiours would always be more honour'd, and better serv'd. But I think it may be said, That a Master, who would be honour'd and serv'd, as having in himself another Power than that of God, would be a Devil; and that those who serv'd him under that apprehension would be Idolaters; for I cannot refrain from believing that all Honour and Love, that have not God for their End, are Species of Idolatry.

Soli Deo honor & gloria.

THE ILLUSTRATION UPON WHAT I have said in the Fourth Chapter of the Second Part, concerning Method, and elsewhere. That God Acts always with Order, and by the simplest ways.

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'TIS thought by some Persons to be too rash, and venturous conjecturing, and abusing loose and General Terms, To say that God always Acts with Order, and by ways that are most simple and easie for the Execution of his designs. Wherefore it will not be an useless undertaking to prove and explain this Truth, since 'tis of the greatest consequence, not only to the knowledge of Nature, but much more for the knowledge of Religion and Morality.

By the Word [God] we understand an infinitely perfect Being, whose Wisdom and Knowledge have no bounds, and who consequently knows all the means by which he can execute his Designs. Which suppos'd, I say, that God Acts always by the shortest means, and by the simplest ways.

To make my meaning better understood, I take a sensible Example. I suppose that God Wills the Body A should strike the Body B. Since God knows all, He perfectly knows that A may tend to strike against B by innumerable crooked Lines, and by but one right. Now God Wills only the impulsion of B by A; and we suppose that he only Wills the Translation of A to B, to effect this impulsion. A then must be convey'd to B by the shortest way, that is, by a right Line. For if the Body A were convey'd to B by a crooked Line, that would show either that the conveyer knew no other way, or that he purpos'd not only the Collision of these Bodies, but also the means of making it, otherwise than by Relation to it, which is against the Supposition.

There is required so much more Action to convey a Body from A to B, by a curv'd than by a right Line, as the curv'd is longer than the right. If therefore, God translated A to B by a curv'd Line, double to the interjacent right, half of the Action of God would be intirely useless, and so half his Action would be produc'd without design and end, as well as without effect; therefore,

Again, Action in God is Will; therefore more Will is requir'd in God, to cause A to be circulary than directly translated. But we suppose that God had no Will in respect of the Motion of A, but as it relates to the Collision; therefore there is not Will enough in God to move A by a crooked Line; and consequently 'tis a Contradiction for A to be so mov'd. Thus it is a Contradiction, that God should not Act by the most simple ways, unless we suppose that God, in the choice of means he imploys for the executing his designs, has something else in view than these designs, which is a Contradiction in our Supposition.

When I say there is more Will in God to translate a Body from A to B, by a crooked Line than by a strait; it is not to be thence concluded, against the simplicity of God's Essence and Action. For it must be acknowledged, That it is not comprehensible, how either the simplicity of an Infinite Being, includes all the different perfections of Finite Beings; or how his Will continuing ever the same, and always conformable to Order, varies with reference to the different Beings it produces, and preserves. I speak but according to our way of conceiving things: Now, methinks, I have a most clear Conception, That when God Wills, and Creates, for Example, one cubical foot of Matter, He Wills another thing than when He Creates two. For nothing is plainer than that God could not Create two different things, nor know whether he Created one or two Cube-feet of Matter, or whether he convey'd a Body circularly or directly, if there were not in His Wills some difference, in regard to Matter and its Motion, since God sees no otherwise than in Himself, and in his own Wills, all the differences of His Creatures. Now whatever that Action is in God, which relates to the different Beings produc'd, or preserv'd by Him, I call the Differences, or Augmentations and Diminutions of Will in God. And in this way of conceiving things, I say that God cannot employ more Will than is necessary to the executing his Designs, and therefore Acts always by the simplest ways with reference to them.

However I deny not, but it's possible for God to have a great number of ways equally simple for the producing the same effects, or that He may produce them by different means: But this I say, that He always brings them to pass, by the ways that are most simple, provided they be all of the same kind; it being a Contradiction that an Infinitely Wise Being, should have useless or disorderly Wills.

[Page]Now if we bring home this Principle to Morality, we shall see that those ensure their Salvation, who so prepare themselves for Grace, by Self-denial and Repentance, and an exact Obedience to the Precepts of our LORD, as that God Acting by the simplest ways, that is, in giving them but little additional Grace, may Operate much in them. For though God would have all Men saved, yet he shall save none but those that can be sav'd by the most simple means, which have reference to his great design of Sanctifying through JESUS CHRIST, a determinate number of Elect unto his Glory; and he will multiply the Children of Eve, till that number be fulfill'd. For God's design of Sanctifying us by the simplest ways, made it necessary for him, after the Sin, to multiply the Children of Men, that he might fill up the number of the Elect; since there are a great many Persons who Damn themselves, by with-drawing from the Order of God.

But whereas God does not Work like a Particular Cause, we ought not to imagine that He has, like us, particular Volitions for every thing He produces: For if it were so, it seems evident to me, That the Generation of Monsters would be impossible, and it would never happen that one of God's Works should destroy another. And since God cannot have contrary Wills, we must have had recourse with the Manichees, to a Principle of Evil, to freeze, for Example, the Fruits which God made to grow: Which being so, there is, methinks, a necessity to conclude the establishment of some General Laws, by which God Predestines and Sanctifies his Elect in JESUS CHRIST; which Laws are what we call the Order of Grace, as God's General Wills, whereby he produces, and preserves all things in the World, are the Order of Nature.

I know not but I may be mistaken, yet I doubt not but from this Principle might be directly drawn a great many Consequences, which might resove those difficulties that have been the Controverted Subjects of several Years. But I do not think my self oblig'd to deduce them; let every one do it according to his Light and Abilities; 'tis more to the purpose to say nothing, than to say such things as are unnecessary to be known, and which, it may be, would be easier agreed to some time hereafter than at present. Only this I would have well understood, That the simplest ways to our Sanctification are Self-denial and Repentance; or at least that it be well consider'd, that since JESUS CHRIST distinctly knows the Laws of the Order of Grace, we run continual dangers, in not following the ways he has mark'd us out, not only by his Words, but all the Actions of his Life.

Yet since we meet with such particular Occurrences in the course of Life, as make us dubious which way to determine, because of the contrary Reasons that may be brought for and against certain Opinions; it will perhaps be time well spent to show here, by some particular Example, that much use may be made of the fore-going Principle, viz. That God Acts always by the simplest ways.

Let us suppose, for instance, that I desir'd to be resolv'd, whether I ought every day to set apart some Constant Times for Retiring into my self, for setting my own Weakness and Miseries before me, and for considering my Obligations in the presence of God, and praying for his Assistance, in Conquering my Passions; or on the other hand, whether I ought to wait for the Spirit of God, which blows where, and when it pleases, to call me from my self, and my Ordinary Employments, to apply me unto Him. For probable Reasons may be given both for and against each of these Opinions; and Men frequently take up with probability on such Occasions, which is the Reason that Religious Persons follow sometimes a quite different Conduct, and not always that which is the safest.

I consider then, That if I stay for the particular Motions of the Spirit of God, I shall never pray unless I receive particular Illuminations, or preventing Delights for that intent. Now these Illuminations or Delectations, being produc'd of God by Wills more particular than are those General Wills, which constitute the Order of Nature, are sorts of Miracles. Therefore to rely upon God's Graces, which are not always necessary, is to suppose that He induces me to pray by means that are not the most simple, and in some measure to tempt God,

But if I use my self to a Custom of appearing, or endeavouring to appear in the presence of God at particular Hours, the sound of the Clock will suffice to remind me of my Duty, and there is no need that God should by a particular will inspire me with the Thoughts of Prayer. The General Laws of Union of my Body and Soul, will make me think of my Duty, when the time I have appointed for it, by some sensible Notice makes it self remarkable.

But as Self-Examination and Prayer are necessary, and as we cannot pray without having at least the Thoughts of it; and as we cannot have the Thoughts of it, unless God gives them, it is some advance to Salvation to have these Thoughts without obliging God to give them us by particular Wills, or kinds of Miracles. It is possibly the want of this first Thought of praying and considering their Obligation before God, which is the Origine of the Blindness and Delusion of many Men, and consequently of their Eternal Damnation. For God Acting always by the simplest means, ought not by particular Wills to give them those Thoughts which they might have obtain'd by vertue of his general Wills, if they had once accustom'd themselves, to pray regularly at particular Hours. Therefore, as God Wills the Saving all Men by the simplest ways, it is evident we ought, as much as possible, to make the Order of Nature subservient to that of Grace, and to reconcile, as I may say, God's Wills together, by regulating a time which may supply us at least with the Thoughts of Prayer.

[Page]For these Reasons, probably, God Commanded, heretofore, the Jews to write His Commandments upon the Doors of their Houses, and constantly to carry some sensible Marks that might put them in Mind of them; which remitted God his particular Will, if I may so speak, of inspiring them with these Thoughts. For Miracles of Grace were extremely rare among the Jews, the time being not yet fullfill'd when God was to engrave his Law, and infuse his Spirit, and his Charity in the heart of Men.

I acknowledge that all things we can do, by meer Natural strength, are insufficient to fit us meritoriously for Grace, without which all the exteriour show of Religion can but feed and cherish our Pride and Self-Love. The Pharisees were Vain-Glorious upon their carrying the sensible signs and memoratives of the Law of God, as our Saviour reproves them; and Christians often make use of Crosses and Images, out of Curiosity, of Hypocrisie, or some other Motive of Self-Love: Yet, since these things may put us in Mind of God, they may be to good purpose imploy'd; because we ought to make Nature, as far as possible, instrumental to Grace, that God may serve us by the simplest ways.

For though we cannot naturally fit and dispose our selves for Grace, yet we may often contribute to make it effectual, in as much as we can curb the eagerness of a Passion, by removing from the Objects that cause it, or by urging contrary Reasons to those of its Suggestion. Those who Watch more carefully than others over the purity of their Imagination, or give not so much way to be corrupted by the continual enjoyment of sensible Pleasures, and Wordly Commerce, make Grace efficacious, by taking away that impediment and resistance which it finds in others. In which sense a Disease, a shower of Rain, or any other accident, that keeps us at home, may render Grace Efficacious: For such a degree of Grace as would have been too weak and ineffectual for our resisting the sensible impression of a present and agreeable Object, is strong enough to make us reject and detest the impure Thought, or Imagination of the same Object.

This is all we need to say to make it manifest, That the Counsels of the Gospel are necessary, in Order to God's Saving us by the simplest means. For 'tis advantageous to follow them, not only because when we follow them by the Motion of God's Spirit, they determine it by vertue of immutable Order, or of the General Laws of the Order of Grace, to increase in us our Love of Him; but also, because the practising these Counsels, may frequently render Grace Efficacious, though Self-Love be the Motive, as it may be, on many Occasions.

FINIS.

THE DEFENCE OF THE AUTHOR OF THE TREATISE Concerning the Search after Truth, Against the Accusation of Monsieur de la VILLE.
In which is shewn, That if Particular Persons be allow'd to call in Question the FAITH of others, upon Consequences well or ill drawn from their Principles, no Man could be secure from the Imputation of Heresie.

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SOME time ago came forth a Treatise, whose very Title scar'd a great many, and raised much Commotion in their Minds. Many Persons wish'd I would engage in the Quarrel, which the Author made with the Cartesians. For as, on one hand, Monsieur de la Ville, that was his Name, had done me the Honour to list me among these Philosophers, with what Design I know not; and, on the other hand, found himself Diversion, by turning me into Ridicule, they assur'd me, that if I was willing to pass for a Rash, Foolish and Extravagant Person, for a Visionist, and, in fine, an Heretick, yet I could not in Conscience desert the Cause of Truth, and leave the Enemies of our Faith, the Advantages he gave them.

I must do these Gentlemen Justice, in confessing their Reasons were very solid: But beg they would believe, that if I have not submitted to them, 'tis because, there were others of a very different Opinion; which to me seem'd likewise highly reasonable, and for which indeed I had greater Inclination; for I will not determine about the Weightiness of their Reasons. Besides, as Monsieur de la Ville is not very tender of Integrity, I foresaw that his Work would make a greater Flash and Report, than it would do Injury to Truth. And as to my own Particular, I did not think he injur'd me by despising me: For, I can assure him, I despise my self much more than he desires. 'Tis true my Self-Contempt is not grounded on the same Ideas, as induc'd him to treat me so fastuously, as he does. But I would grant that the Reasons I had for despising my self, were not true; and would willingly consent, that all my ill Qualities were converted into those he's pleas'd to give me, provided he'll except that one of Heretick, or of a Person whose Faith deserves to be suspected.

Since I know that 'tis of most dangerous Consequence, to stir up the Passions of Men, especially on such Subjects as seem to cover from the Reproofs of Reason, the most violent and irrational: I thought my self oblig'd to continue silent, for fear of supplying with fresh Fewel those Heats I perceiv'd in their Minds. But now that this Fervency is abated, and that I cannot see any more mischievous Events to be fear'd: I think I am bound to satisfy my Friends, and content my self. I am not willing to affect an insolent and contemptuous Silence, in Regard to Monsieur de la Ville. I sincerely confess, he has sensibly offended me: For I am neither Stoick, nor Stupid; I feel when I hurt, and am not asham'd to own it. The publick Accusation of Heresie is not easie to be born, especially by Ecclesiasticks: Which though never so unjust, fails not to make the Faith of the accused suspected, [Page] in this Age, more than any other: And no Man may be prodigal of this sort of Reputation, unless Charity oblige him to it, which seldom or never happens.

I have nothing, then, to answer to the Calumnies, where with this Author tries to blacken me. I shall not bring him before the Common Magistrate, to have publick Reparation made me; nor will I use any other ways permitted by Natural Law, for the Restitution of that which I can in Conscience give up. I am all that he will have me, a Fool, a Visionist, only I am no Heretick; nor am I suspected of Heresie at least by those that know me. But, I confess, I cannot avoid having my Faith suspected, if a Stranger may be allowed to brand me with the Name of Heretick, for Consequences he is pleas'd to draw from my Principles; for 'tis not possible but Monsieur de la Ville's Book must have deceiv'd some one or other. If at present I am suspected of Heresie, 'tis a Misfortune I cannot help.

But if it be a Crime, 'tis not I that have committed it, but rather he that draws consequences from a Principle not including them. For my part I disown these consequences: I believe them false, and Heretical; and if I clearly saw they were directly inferr'd from any one of my Principles, I would forsake it: For that Principle would be false, Truths being not contrary to one another.

But be it granted that Monsieur de la Ville's Reasonings were just, and that Heretical Consequences were perfectly well deduc'd from their Principle; yet neither I, nor many others, that he ill-uses, saw before he wrote his Book, that they were contain'd in it. So that his Conduct is indefensible, which way soever we examine it. For in fine the Articles of Faith depend not on the Quickness and Reach of thought of any Particular Divine, as I indeavour to show; and though we should be certain that some principles included impious Consequences, yet no Man has right to treat the Maintainers of these principles as Hereticks.

I have seen in the Fathers, and chiefly in St. Austin, the Ep. 3. Ch. 2.28. Ch. 2.57. Ch. 6. contra Epist. Manichei. Ch. 16. de Tran. l. 10. & alibi. principle I have advanc'd, but never observ'd Monsieur de la Ville's there. To me it appear'd a common Notion, that if God had Annihilated all the extension in the World, all the matter, the World is made up of, would be Annihilated. I had consulted several Persons about it, to know whether they had the same Idea as my self of the matter, whose answers confirm'd me in my Opinion. I concluded, for the Reasons I shall give anon, that we could no longer have any direct and Natural Demonstration, that the Soul is distinguish'd from the Body, or that she is Immortal, if that principle be laid aside. I said in the Search after Truth that I did not believe any consequence could be inferr'd from this principle repugnant to Faith, which same thing was defended in the Sorbon, before my maintaining it, in the publick Theses. Nay, I proceeded to say, That if it were requisite, I would explain how this Opinion might be reconcil'd with what the Fathers, and Councils have left us touching our Faith, about the mystery of Transubstantiation. Lastly, I renounc'd all Heretical Consequences, and even the Principle, if it contain'd them, which I could not believe, nor can I to this hour.

What ought I to say more, to clear my Faith from the suspicion of Heresie, even to the malicious? Could I imagine any Man would have the boldness to rank St. Austin, and other Fathers, among the Calvinists, by condemning in the Person of the Cartesians and Gassendists, the Sentiment of that Holy Doctor, as contrary to Transubstantiation? No, doubtless. For either Monsieur de la Ville durst do it, save in a collateral manner. St. Austian in an hundred places advances as undeniable, the principle now in dispute. He never goes to prove it, because it does not appear that any Man in his time doubted of it. For indeed 'tis a principle that ought to be look'd on as a common Notion with all those, whose mind is not prepossess'd with false studies. Whence this Father concludes, That the Soul is immortal; That she is more noble than the Body; That she is a distinct substance from it; with many other like Truths of the utmost importance. And yet Monsieur de la Ville, under Ambiguous Terms,Part 2. Ch. 3. Art. 6. advances that this Principle is not to be found in St. Austin: He answers but one single passage of that Father's Works, and to explain it, makes that learn'd Man argue at an Extravagant rate. Lastly, he opposes to his constant Doctrine, only the Book of Categories, as if he knew not that Book to be none of St. Austin's, and that it belongs rather to Logick, than to Physicks.

I will not stand to prove this in particular; for I see no necessity of answering Monsieur de la Ville's Book: And I design to keep inviolably to the resolution I made, and have declar'd at the end of the Preface to the Second Vol. of the Search after Truth, viz. That I would answer none of those who oppos'd me before they understand me, or whose Discourses gave occasion to believe, they were made from some other motive than the Love of Truth. As for the rest, I shall indeavour to content them. I have no delight in disquieting Mens Minds, and troubling my own repose by contentious Books, or Works absolutely useless to the discovery of Truth; and only proper to violate Charity, and scandalize our Neighbours. And if I now put Pen to Paper, 'tis because I ought not to suffer my Faith to be call'd in Question, and that I desire to make it clearly understood, That no Man is permitted to charge me with Heresie for consequences deducible from the Principles I have establish'd.

Which is not as if I thought it possible to inferr directly, any Heresie, or even Error from the Book concerning the Search after Truth. I am ready to answer with Charity and Respect, all those who shall do me the honour to make their Animadversions without Passion; and I shall always be glad to follow Truth, as soon as any Man can discover it to me. I disown all principles from which may be concluded any falshood. But I offer to prove, That we cannot justly treat as Hereticks, even obstinate Defenders of such Principles, as Divines may inferr impious Conclusions from, (provided the Embracers of these Principles disown the consequences:) Since, if it might be allow'd, no Writer whatever could escape the Imputation of Heresie. My proofs of my assertion are as follow: [Page] Which I do not deduce from that which is least Reasonable in the common Opinions of Phisophers, with design to make them Odious, or Ridiculous; but choose to take for the subject of what I offer to prove, universally receiv'd Opinions, upon which the Peripateticks are so bold and presuming, as to insult perpetually over their Adversaries.

ARGUMENT I.

The Peripateticks, and almost all Men, believe that Beasts have Souls, and that these Souls are nobler than the Bodies which they Animate. 'Tis an Opinion receiv'd in all times, and in all Nations, that a Dog suffers Pain when he is beaten; That he is susceptible of all the Motions of the Passions, Fear, Desire, Envy, Hatred, Joy, Sorrow, and even that he knows and loves his Master. Yet from this Opinion consequences may be drawn directly opposite to what we are Taught by Faith.

The first Consequence opposite to Faith. That God is Vnjust.

Beasts suffer Pain, and some of them are more miserable than others. Now they never sinn'd, or made an ill use of their Libirty, since they have none: Therefore God's Vnjust, in Punishing them, and making them Miserable; and unequally Miserable, since they are equally Innocent. Therefore this Principle is false, That under a Righteous God, a Creature can be miserable without deserving it, a Principle nevertheless imploy'd by St. Austin, to Demonstrate Original Sin against the Pelagians.

Moreover there is this difference between the condition of Men and Beasts, that Men after Death may receive an Happiness which may countervail the Pains endur'd in Life. But Beasts at Death lose all; they have been miserable, and innocent, and have no Future Retribution. Therefore, though God be Just, yet Man may suffer in Order to Merit; but if a Beast suffers, God is not Just.

It may be said, perhaps, that God may do with the Beast as he thinks fit, provided he observes the Rules of Justice, with respect to Man. But if an Angel should think in like manner, that God could not punish him without some Demerits; and that he was not oblig'd to do justice unto Man, should we like that thought? Certainly God renders Justice to all his Creatures; and if the meanest of them are liable to Misery, they must needs be capable of being Criminal.

The second Consequence contrary to Faith. That God Wills Disorder, and that Nature is not corrupted.

The Soul of a Dog is substance more noble than the Body Animated by it. For according to St. Austin De Quantitate animae, Ch. 31, 32. &c. Lib. 4. de anima, & ejus origine, Ch. 12. & alibi., 'tis a spiritual Substance more noble than the noblest Body. Besides which, reason demonstrates that Bodies can neither Know, nor Love; and that Pleasure, Pain, Joy, Sorrow, and the other Passions, cannot be Modifications of Bodies. Now 'tis believed that Dogs know, and Love their Masters, and that they are susceptible of Passions, as of Fear, Desire, Joy and Sorrow, and many others: The Soul of a Dog therefore is not a Body, but a Substance nobler than Bodies. But the Soul of a Dog is made for his Body, and has no other End, or Felicity, than the enjoyment of Bodies: Therefore God makes the more noble for the less noble: Therefore God Wills disorder: Therefore Man's Nature is not corrupted: Concupiscence is no disorder. God might make Man for the enjoyment of Bodies, and subject him to the Motions of Concupiscence, &c.

It may be still said perhaps that the Soul of Beasts is made for Man: but 'tis hard to escape by this subterfuge. For whether my Dog, or my Horse, has, or has not a Soul, is indifferent to me. 'Tis not my Horse's Soul, which carries, or draws me, but his Body. 'Tis not the Soul of a Chicken which nourishes me, but its flesh. Now God might, and ought consequently to create Horses, to perform all their functions which we need, without a Soul, if it be true that he has made them only for our use. Again, the Soul of an Horse is more valuable than the noblest Body: God therefore ought not to create it for the Body of Man. Lastly, God ought not to have given Souls to Flies which Swallows feed upon. Swallows are of very little use to Man, and they might have fed upon grain, as other Birds.

What need then of so innumerable a number of Souls to be Annihilated, to preserve the Bodies of these Birds, since the Soul of a Fly is more worth than the Body of the perfectest Animal? Wherefore in affirming that Beasts have Souls, that is to say, substances, more noble than Bodies, we deprive God of Wisdom, make him act without Order, destroy Original Sin, and consequently overthrow Religion, by taking away the necessity of a Mediator.

The third Consequence contrary to Faith. The Soul of Man is Mortal, or at least the Souls of Beasts pass from one Body to another.

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The Soul of a Beast is a Substance distinct from its Body. This Soul is Annihilated, and therefore Substances may naturally be Annihilated. Therefore though the Soul of Man be a Substance distinct from his Body, it may be Annihilated, when the Body is destroyed: And thus the Immortality of the Humane Soul cannot be Demonstrated by Reason. But if it be own'd to be most certain, That no Substance can be naturally reduc'd to nothing, the Soul of Beasts will subsist after Death; and since they have no reward to hope for, and are made for Bodies, they must at least pass out of one to another, that they may not remain useless in Nature: Which seems to be the most reasonable Inference,

Now 'tis Matter of Faith, That God is just and Wise, That he Loves not Disorder, That Nature is corrupted, That the Soul of Man is Immortal and that That of Beasts is Mortal: Because indeed it is not a distinct Substance from their Body, nor consequently capable of Knowledge and Love, or of any Passions and Sensations like ours. Therefore in the Stile of Monsieur de la Ville, who condemns Men upon Consequences that he draws from their Principles, the Cartesians may justly charge him with a Crime, and all Mindkind besides, for believing Beasts have Souls.

What would Monsieur de la Ville say, if in his way of proceeding we should tax him of Impiety, for entertaining Opinions, from whence it might be concluded, That God is not Just, Wise, or Powerful; Opinions that overthrow Religion, that are opposite to Original Sin, that take away the only Demonstration Reason can give of the Immortality of the Soul? What would he say, if we should charge him with Injustice and Cruelty for making innocent Souls to suffer, and even for Annihilating them, to feed upon the Bodies which they Animate? He is a Sinner, but they are Innocent; and yet for the Nourishment of his Body he kills Animals, and Annihilates their Souls, which are of greater Worth than his Body. Yet if his Body could not subsist without the Flesh of Animals, or if the Annihilation of a Soul should render his Body for ever Immortal; this Cruelty, as unjust as it is, might perhaps be excusable: But with what Pretence can he Annihilate Substances altogether innocent, to sustain but a few days a Body justly condemn'd to Death because of Sin,

Would he be so little a Philosopher, as to excuse himself upon the Custom of the Place he lives in? But what if his Zeal should carry him into the Indies, where the Inhabitants found Hospitals for Beasts; and the Philosophers, and the better and more gentile Part of them, are so charitable to to the smallest Flies,Lins. c. 37. that, for fear of killing them, by Breathing, and Walking, they wear a fine Cloath before their Mouths, and fan the Ways through which they pass? Would he then fear to make innocent Souls to suffer, or to Annihilate them for the Preservation of a Sinner's Body? Would he not rather chuse to subscribe to their Opinion, who give not Beasts a Soul more Noble than their Body, or distinct from it; and by publishing this Opinion acquit himself of the Crimes of Cruelty and Injustice, which these People would charge upon him; if having the same Principles he follow'd not their Custom?

This Example may suffice to shew, that we are not permitted to treat Men as Hereticks, and dangerous Persons, because of Irreligious Consequences that may be deduc'd from their Principles, when these Consequences are disown'd by them. For though I think it would be an infinitely harder Task, to answer the aforesaid Difficulties, than those of M. de la Ville's, yet the Cartesians would be very Ridiculous, if they should accuse Monsieur de la Ville, and others, that were not of their Opinion, of Impiety and Heresie. 'Tis only the Authority of the Church, that may decide about Matters of Faith; and the Church has not oblig'd us, and probably whatever Consequence may be drawn from common Principles, never will oblige us to believe, that Dogs have not a Soul more Noble than their Body, that they know not their Masters; that they neither fear, nor desire, nor suffer any thing, because it is not necessary that Christians should be instructed in these Truths.

ARGUMENT II.

Almost all Men are perswaded, That sensible Objects are the true Causes of Pleasure, and Pain, which we feel, upon their Presence. They believe, that the Fire sends forth that agreeable Heat which rejoyces us; and that our Aliments Act in us, and give us the Welcome Sensations of Tasts. They doubt not but 'tis the Sun which makes the Fruits necessary for Life, to thrive; and that all sensible Objects have a peculiar Vertue, by which they can do us a great deal of Good and Evil. Let us see, if from these Principles we cannot draw Consequences contrary to Religion and Points of Faith.

A Consequence opposite to the first Principle of Morality, which obliges us to love God with all our Strength, and to fear none but Him.

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'Tis a common Notion, by which all Men Order their Behaviour, That we ought to love, and fear what has Power to do us Good and Harm, to make us feel Pleasure and Pain, to render us happy or miserable; and that this Cause is to be lov'd▪ or fear'd, proportionably to its Power of Acting on us. But the Fire, the Sun, the Objects of our Senses, can truly Act on us, and make us in some manner happy or miserable. This is the Principle suppos'd; we may therefore Love and Fear them. This is the Conclusion which every one naturally makes, and is the general Principle of the corruption of Manners.

'Tis evident by Reason, and by the First of God's Commandments, That all the motions of our Soul, of Love or Fear, Desire or Joy, ought to tend to God; and that all the Motions of our Body may be Regulated and Determin'd, by encompassing Objects. By the Motion of our Body we may approach a Fruit, avoid a Blow, fly a Beast that's ready to devour us. But we ought to Love and Fear none but God; all the Motions of our Soul ought to tend to Him only; we are to Love Him with all our strength; this is an indispensible Law. We can neither Love or Fear what is below us, without disorder and corruption: Freely to fear a Beast ready to devour us, or to fear the Devil, is to give them some honour; to Love a Fruit, to desire Riches, to rejoyce in the light of the Sun, as if he were the true cause of it; to Love even our Father, our Protector, our Friend, as if they were capable of doing us good, is to pay them an Honour which is due to none but God, in which sense it is lawful to Love none. But we may, and ought to Love our Neighbour, by wis [...] ing and procuring him, as Natural or Occasional Cause, all that may make him happy, and no otherwise. For we to Love our Brothers, not as if able to do us good, but as capable to enjoy together with us the true Good. These Truths seem evident to me; but Men strangely obscure them, by supposing that the surrounding Bodies can Act on us as True Causes.

Indeed, most Christian Philosophers acknowledge, That the Creatures can do nothing, unless God concur to their Action; and that so, sensible Objects being unable to Act on us without the Efficacy of the First Cause, must not be lov'd or fear'd by us, but God only, on whom they depend.

Which Explication makes it manifest, That they condemn the consequences, which I have now deduc'd from the Principle they receive: But if in imitation of Monsieur de la Ville's Conduct, I should say 'twas a slight and subterfuge of the Philosophers, to Cloak their Impiety▪ if I should urge them with the Crime of supporting Aristotle's Opinions, and the prejudices of Sense, at the expence of their Religion; if piercing too into the inmost recesses of their Heart, I should impute to them the secret desire, of debauching Men's Morals by the defence of a Principle, which serves to justifie all sorts of disorders, and which by the consequences I have drawn from it, overthrows the first Principle of Christian Morality. Should I be thought in my Senses whilst I went to condemn most Men as impious upon the strength of the inferences I had deduc'd from their Premises?

Monsieur de la Ville will no doubt pretend that my Consequences are not rightly inferr'd; but I pretend the same of his; and to ruine them all, I need but explicate some Equivocal Terms, which I shall sometime do, if I find it necessary.

But how will Monsieur de la Ville justifie the common Opinion of the Efficacy of Second Causes, and by what sort of concourse will he ascribe to God all that is due to Him? Will he make it clearly appear, that one individual Action is all of God, and all of the Creature? Will he demonstrate that the Power of the Creature is not useless, though without its Efficacy, the sole Action of God would produce the same effect? Will he prove that Minds neither ought to Love nor Fear Bodies, though the latter have a true Power of Acting on the former; and will he make multitudes of Converts hereupon, among those whose Mind and Heart are taken up with sensible Objects, from a confus'd Judgment they make that these Objects are capable of making them Happy or Miserable? Let him confess then, That if we might treat as Hereticks, and profane Persons, all that hold Principles, from which Heretical and Impious Consequences may be drawn, no Man what ever could secure his Faith from being suspected.

ARGUMENT III. The Consequence of the Principle propos'd by Monsieur de la Ville, as a Point of Faith, viz. That the Essence of Body consists not in Extension. This negative Principle overthrows the only demonstrative and direct Proof we have of the Soul's being a distinct Substance from the Body, and consequently of her Immortality.

When this truth is receiv'd, which I presume, with many other Persons, to have demonstrated; which Monsieur de la Ville impugns as contrary to the decisions of the Church, viz. That the Essence[Page]of matter consists in Extension in Length, Breadth, and Thickness. It is easie to comprehend that the Soul, or that which is capable of Thought, is a distinct substance from the Body. For it's manifest that Extension, whatever Division and Motion be conceiv'd in it, can never arrive to Reason, Will or Sense. Wherefore that thinking thing which is in us, is necessarily a substance distinct from our Body.

Intellectual Notices, Volitions, and Actual Sensations, are Actually Modes of some substances Existence. But all the Divisions incidental to Extension can produce nothing but Figures: Nor all its various Motions, any thing but Relations of Distance: Therefore Extension is not capable of other Modifications. Therefore our Thought, Desire, Sensations of Pleasure, and Pain, are Modes of a Substances Existence, which is not a Body. Therefore the Soul is distinct from the Body, which being conceded, we thus demonstrate her Immortality.

No substance can be Annihilated by the Ordinary strength of Nature. For as nature cannot produce something out of nothing: So she cannot reduce something into nothing. Modifications of Beings may be Annihilated; Rotundity of a Body may be destroy'd; for that which is round may become square. But this roundness is not a Being, a Thing, a Substance; but only a Relation of Equality of distance, between the terminating parts of the Body, and that which is in the Center. Which relation changing, the Roundness is destroy'd, but the substance cannot be reduc'd to nothing. Now for the foremention'd Reasons the Soul is not a Mode of a Body's Existing. Therefore she is immortal; and though the Body be dissolv'd into a Thousand parts of a different Nature, and the structure of its Organs broke to pieces, since the Soul consists not in that structure, nor in any other Modification of matter, 'tis evident that the dissolution, and even the Annihilation of the substance of an humane Body, were that Annihilation true, could not Annihilate the substance of our Soul. Let us add to this another proof of the immortality of the Soul, grounded upon the same Principle.

Though the Body cannot be reduc'd to nothing, because it is a substance, it may notwithstanding die, and all its parts may be dissolv'd: Because Extension is divisible. But the Soul being a substance distinct from Extension, cannot be divided. For we cannot divide a Thought, a Desire, a Sensation of Pain, or Pleasure, as we may divide a square into two or four Triangles. Therefore the substance of the Soul is indissoluble, incorruptible, and consequently immortal, because unextended.

But if Monsieur de la Ville supposes that the Essence of Body consists in something besides Extension, how will he convince the Libertines that she is neither material nor mortal. They will maintain, that something wherein the Essence of Body consists, is capable of thinking, and that the substance which thinks is the same with that which is extended. If Monsieur de la Ville denies it, they'll show that he does it, without Reason, since according to his Principle, Body being something else than Extension; he has no distinct Idea of what that can be, and consequently cannot tell but that unknown thing may be capable of Thought. Does he think to convince them, by saying as he does in his Book, that the Essence of Body is to have Parts without Extension? Certainly they will not take his Word for it; for finding it as hard to conceive parts without Extension, as indivisible Atoms, or Circles, without two Semi-circles, they must have more deference for him, than he has for God himself. For Monsieur de la Ville, in the last part of his Book, pretends that God himself cannot oblige us to belive contradictory things, such as are the Parts of a Body, without any Actual extension.

But the Libertines on their part would not fail of probable Reasons to confound the Soul with the Body. Experience, they'll say, teaches us, That the Body is capable of Feeling, Thinking, and Reasoning. 'Tis the Body which is sensible of Pleasure, and Pain. 'Tis the Brain which thinks and reasons. The weight of the Body makes heavy the Mind. Madness is a true distemper; and those who have most Wisdom lose it, when that part of the Brain, where it resides, is diseas'd. The Essences of Beings are unknown to us, and therefore Reason cannot discover of what they are susceptible. So that reason refers us to Experience, and Experience confounds the Soul with the Body, and teaches us, that this is capable of thinking: Such would be their Reasons.

And in Truth those who assure us, That the Essences of Being are unknown; and make it Criminal for Philosophers to demonstrate Extension no Modification of Being, but the very Essence of Matter; would do well to consider the mischievous Consequences, deducible from their Principles; and not go to overthrow the only Demonstration we have, for the Distinction between the Soul and Body. For, in fine, the Distinction of these two Parts of our Selves, prov'd by clear Ideas, is the most Fruitful and necessary of all Truths in point of Philosophy, and perhaps of Divinity, and Christian Morality. But this Distinction is likewise exactly demonstrated in many Places of the Search after Truth Book IV. Chap. 2. Book VI. Part II. Chap. 7. Book III. Part II. Chap. 8.. And I undertake to Monsieur de la Ville, notwithstanding his Answer fraught with Ambiguities, Figures, and Contradictions; or rather, I undertake to the Libertines, for as for him, I believe him so setled in his Faith, as not to want such sort of Proofs. I undertake, I say to the Libertines, That they will never find any Sophism in my Demonstration, That 'tis impossible to conceive it clearly and distinctly, without embracing it; and that all the Proofs they offer, to confound the Soul with the Body, are drawn from Senses; that they are obscure and confus'd, and can never perswade such as Judge of things by clear and distinct Ideas.

From this Principal, That the Essence of Body consists not in Extension, and that the Essences of things are unknown; I could still draw many other Consequences opposite to Faith: But that is not necessary; and I would rather, if it were possible, reconcile all false as well as true Philosophies with Religion. However impious and Heretical would be the Consequences I could deduce from [Page] the Opinions of Philosophers, I should think I wanted the Charity which I owe them, if I endeavoured to make their Faith suspected. So far am I from imitating the Conduct of Monsieur de la Ville, who leaving a Principle demonstrated in all its Strength, and receiv'd by all Ages, lays out himself in drawing Heretical Consequences from it; tho' of no use but to strengthen the Calvinists, and encrease their Number, and to disturb the Faith of the Orthodox: I would, on the contrary, that no one should think on these Consequences; or disown them as false, and wrong-inferr'd from the Principal.

All Truths hang in a Chain together; and no false Principle can be held, but those who are any thing vers'd in the Art of Reasoning, may infer from it abundance of Consequences repugnant to Religion. So that if it were permitted to blacken the Faith of others, upon Consequences drawn from Principles believ'd by them, since there is no Man but Errs in something, we might treat all the World, as Heretical. Wherefore the allowing Men to Dogmatize, and to make others Faith suspected, who are not of their Opinion, would be opening a Gap to infinite Quarrels, Schisms, Disturbances, and even Civil Wars; and all Mankind is concern'd to look upon the Abettors of such a Conduct, as Slanderers and Disturbers of the publick Peace. For, in short, the different Parties in Religion, which are almost always form'd from such like Consequences, produce strange Events in a State; which all Histories abound with. But the Liberty to Philosophize, or to reason upon Common Notions, is not to be denied Men; it being a Right which is as natural to them as to breath. Divines ought to distinguish Theology from Philosophy, Articles of our Faith from Opinions of Men. Truths, which GOD imparts to all Christians by a visible Authority, from those which he bestows on some particular Persons, in Recompence of their Attention and Industry. They should not confound things that depend on so different Principles. No Question Humane Sciences ought to be made subservient to Religion; but with a Spirit of Peace and Charity; without condemning one another, so long as we agree about Truths which the Church has determin'd: For this is the way for Truth to shine out, and all Sciences to be brought to greater and greater Perfection, by the Addition of New Discoveries to the Ancient.

But the Imaginations of most Men cannot be reconcil'd to New Discoveries, but even Novelty in Opinions, never so advantageous to Religion, frights them; whilst they easily inure themselves to the falsest and obscurest Principles, provided some Ancient has advanc'd them. But when once these Principles are grown familiar, they find them evident, though never so obscure: They believe them most useful, though extremely dangerous; And they are so well us'd to say and hear what they do not conceive, and to slurr a real Difficulty by an imaginary Distinction, that they are ever well satisfy'd with their false Idea's, and can't endure to be talkt to in a clear and distinct Language; like Men coming out of a dark Room, they are fearful of the Light, which strikes too violently on their Eyes, and they imagine we go to blind them, when we try to dissipate the involving Darkness.

Thus though I have shown by many Consequences, that 'tis dangerous, for Example, to maintain that Beasts have a Soul more noble than the Body; yet since this Opinion is ancient, and most Men are accustom'd to Believe it, whilst the contrary bears the Character of Novelty; Those who judge of the Harshness of Opinions rather by the Fear they produce in the Imagination, than by the Evidence and Light they shed in the Mind, will be sure to vote the Cartesians Opinion dangerous; and will condemn these Philosophers, as rash and presumptuous, rather than those who make Beasts capable of Reasoning.

Let a Man but say in Company, with an Air of Gravity, or rather with a Look, into which the Imagination, scar'd with something extraordinary, forms the Face: Really the Cartesians are strange People; They maintain, That Beasts have no Soul. I am afraid in a little time they will say as much of Man: And this will be enough to perswade a great many, that this is a dangerous Opinion. No Reasons can prevent the Effect of this Discourse upon weak Imaginations; and unless there happen to be some brisk Wit, that with the gayety of Carriage, shall re-embolden the Company from the Fear they had conceiv'd, the Cartesians might tire themselves to Death, before they could by their Reasonings obliterate the Character that had been given of their Persons.

And yet 'tis but placing the definition instead of the thing defin'd, to shew the extravagance of this Discourse. For if a Man should say seriously, the Cartesians are strange sort of Men, they affirm, That Beasts have neither Thought nor Sense; I fear, in a short time, they will say as much of us. Certainly we should conclude this Man's apprehensions but ill-grounded. But the generality of Men are unable to extricate the least Ambiguity, especially when their Imagination is frighted with the Notion of Novelty, which some represent to them as dangerous. Besides that the Air and exteriour Manners easily persuade, but Truth is not discover'd without some application of Thought, whereof the greatest part of Mankind is incapable.

Certainly Men that have most Light and Understanding, whose Opinions are implicitely embrac'd by the Vulgar, ought not to be so easie to condemn their Brethren, at least before they have examin'd their Sentiments with a serious Attention; nor ought they to possess their respectful Hearers with disadvantageous Notions of their Neighbour, this being contrary to the Rules of Charity and Justice.

But the Cartesians, you'll say, admit Principles which have mischievous Consequences; and I grant it, since you'll have it so. But they disown these Consequences: They, it may be, are so gross and stupid, as not to see these Consequences are included in their Principles. They think they can separate one from the other, and do not suppose other Philosophers are to be believ'd upon their bare Word: They break not their Charity with those who hold Principles which they [Page] think big with impious Consequences, and as contrary to Religion, as sound Sense. For it may be concluded from the dangerous Consequences I have drawn from those very Principles, which flush the Peripateticks even to the triumphing over their Adversaries; How many, and how much worse than these I might infer, if I should give my self liberty to choose out of the Body of their Philosophy that which was most exceptionable? But whatever the advantage is in Theological Disputes, as well as in Field-Battles, to be the Aggressors; I had rather defend my self weakly, than conquer and triumph by assaulting. For, in short, I do not conceive how Men delight in making Hereticks, and prophane Persons of those who submit to all [...]the decisions of the Church, upon Consequences which they disavow. The Victory methinks is very fatal, which spills but the Blood of our own Country-Men.

Nevertheless, I do not believe I have advanc'd in the Search after Truth, any Principle of Philosophy productive of dangerous Consequences; on the contrary, I have left M. des Cartes in some places, and Aristotle almost in all; because I could not reconcile the Former with Truth, nor the Latter with Truth or Religion; this I leave to Men of more Wit and Invention than my self. I said that the Essence of Matter consisted in Extension, because I thought I had, evidently, demonstrated it, and thereby given clear and uncontroverted proofs of the Immortality of the Soul, and her distinction from the Body: A Truth which is essential to Religion, and which the Philosophers are Sess. 8. oblig'd by the last Lateran Council to prove. But I never thought this Principle so fecund with Truths advantageous to Religion, was contrary to the Council of Trent: Monsieur de la Ville ought not to affirm it, for that will do but mischief. This is the Conduct of the Protestants in Holland, Th. Pac. ch. 4. Vitichius, L. 3. ch. 13. Cog. Nat. Poiret, and several others. I say not this to make his Faith suspected, but I am under strong apprehensions, least his Conduct may give them occasion to affirm, That we own in France a Man cannot be a Catholick without believing that the parts of a Body may be without any Actual Extension, since a Book Dedicated to the Bishops, publish'd with all the Ceremonies, with Approbation and Privilege, treats the Cartesians as Hereticks on that particular: I fear, least by his probabilities, he may shake the Faith of several Persons, who know not precisely what is necessary to make an Article of Faith. But I am still more apprehensive least the Libertines should strengthen themselves in their Opinions, That the Soul is Corporeal, and consequently Mortal; That a thinking Substance is the same with an extended One, because Extension with them, and Monsieur de la Ville, being but the Mode of a Being, whose Essence is unknown to us, we have no Argument from Reason, that this Being is not capable of Thinking; and we have many Arguments from Sense which, though never so false, are yet convincing, and even Demonstrative with those who will not be at the pains of Reasoning.

And upon these grounds I think I am oblig'd to affirm, with all the confidence afforded me by the view of the Truth I have Demonstrated That Extension is not a Mode of Being; but a Being, a Thing, a Substance, in a Word, Matter or Body, and that many Answers are to be seen in the Search after Truth, to those proofs of Sense by which the Libertines confound the two Substances, that Man's compos'd of. I maintain farther, That Monsieur de la Ville has not shown that Opinion of the Essence of Matter to be contray to Transubstantiation; that he has propos'd only those Answers which are easie to be resolv'd, That we may more easily triumph over his Adversaries: That he has not impugned mine, and probably not so much as known them, and that in the Humour I see him, I think not my self obliged to acquaint him with them; Lastly, That he has added to the Council of Trent, more Articles of Faith, or Explications, than any private Person has Right to give after express Prohibitions contain'd in the Bull, which confirms the said Council By that Bull it is forbidden under Pain of Excommunication, to give any Explication of the Decrees of the Council. Vlium omnino interpretationis genus super ipsius Concilii decretis quocunque modo edere, &c. That Power is reserv'd to the Pope..

As to what regards my own Particular, I desire the Reader not to believe Monsieur de la Ville, upon his Word, but to examine with Caution and Distrust, even those Matters of Fact which he vouches with the greatest Confidence. He boasts himself upon his Sincerity and Ingenuousness, and I am far from disputing him those Qualities, which are indispensable to every honest Man; but I cannot help saying in the Defence of Truth, and my own Justification, that he has often forgotten himself in his Book; of which here follows a sufficient Proof.

In the Frontispiece of his Work he has inserted an Advertisement, which has a Look of Integrity; for 'tis compos'd only to make a kind of Reparation: These are his Words; He says, He met with a Copy of the Search after Truth, of the Strasbourgh-Edition, in the Year 1677. which obliges him to signifie to his dear Reader, that I have in the Impression retracted and Errour, which I had advanc'd in the First. But it is so true, that I am either little skill'd in Divinity, or very daring, that I could not recant that Errour, without advancing Two others. His whole Advertisement is only to make me a charitable Reparation.

However it is false, First, That I have retracted that pretended Errour about Original Sin: The same Proposition being found in the same Words, in the Eddition he Edit. Strasb. p. 190. Par. Edit. 1. p. 172. in the second, p. 190. in the third, 187▪ in the fourth 95. cites, and in all those that are Printed at Paris.

[Page] Secondly, That Proposition is not my peculiar Opinion; since it is the common Doctrine of the Schools. But though it were not at present taught, yet 'tis certainly no Errour, much less a most pernicious one, as he elsewhere stiles it Pag. 90..

The two Errours he supposes me to substitute, in the Room of this recanted one, are Two things I never said; and which he puts upon me. 'Tis but reading his own Words relating to the Question, to discover the Truth of what I say; and therefore I shall not stand to prove it; especially since 'tis done sufficiently by an unknown Hand. I could only wish this unknown Person had alledg'd the Reasons which I had for saying, That an Infant at the time of Baptism was justified by an Actual Love, and which I have given in the Illustration upon Original Sin.

Let a Man judge then, after he has examin'd the candid and sincere Advertisement of Monsieur de la Ville, whether I have not reason to require the Equitable Readers not to credit him, on his bare Word. For if we believe him, he is the most sincere and courteous Man in the World; but we cannot find all the Marks of Sincerity and Candour, when we carefully examine him. At the End of his Advertisement, he protests, he has endeavour'd, as much as possible, to observe all the Moderation which he ought, that he has no ill Will but to the Errours of his Adversaries, and for their Persons all Esteem and Respect: Whilst yet one cannot consider that Advertisement, without discovering at least the Symptoms of a disingenuous Spirit, and a Malign Temper, which surprizes and irritates Mens Minds. I pray God to pardon him his Outrages, to Regulate his Zeal, and to inspire him with the Spirit of Meekness, Charity and Peace towards his Brethren. I know not whether he finds Pleasure in abusing me so hainously as he does; but I desire to assure him, That it is Matter of much Sorrow, and Trouble to me, That I am forc'd in the Defence of Truth, to give some Suspicion of his Probity; and that I should, on the contrary, be extreamly joyful, if he could know how sincerely I honour, respect, and love him, in Him in whom we all are Brethren. Noverit quam eu [...] non contemnam, & quantum in illo Deum timeam, & cogitem caput nostrum in cujus corpore fratres sumus. Aug. ad Fortunianum, Epist. 3.

FINIS.

F. MALEBRANCHE's TREATISE CONCERNING Light and Colours. BEING AN ILLUSTRATION OF THE Fourth CHAPTER of his Sixth BOOK. Never before Printed.

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IN order to explain my Thoughts concerning the Natural Causes of Light and Colours, let us conceive a great Foot-ball externally press'd by a Force, in a manner infinite; and that the fluid Matter contain'd in it, has so rapid a Motion, as not only to turn all, after one and the same Fashion, with a mighty Swiftness; but that each Part of it, to imploy all its Motion, (that is, to move it self equally to its Force,) is still obliged either to turn upon the Centre of an infinite Number of little Vortices, or else to glide between them, and all this with a prodigious Celerity; insomuch that the Force of the Matter contain'd in the Foot-ball, shall make an equal Poize with that external Force which compresses it. In a word, let us conceive the Matter contain'd in the Foot-ball to be like that with which M. Des Cartes furnishes our Vortex, excepting only that the little Bowls of his second Element, which he supposes hard, be nothing but little Vortices themselves; or at least, that they have no Hardness but what is occasion'd by the Pressure of those which surround them: For if these little Bowls were hard by their own Nature, (as I think I have demonstrated the contrary,) it were impossible for them to transmit Light and Colours,In the last Chapter of the Search, where I treat of the Hardness of Bodies. as we shall see by and by. But if this Supposition be difficultly conceived, let us only suppose a Foot-ball fill'd with Water, or rather with a Matter

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infinitely more fluid, and receiving an extreme Pressure from without. The Circle ABC is the Section through the Centre of the Foot-ball.

This being suppos'd, let there be imagin'd a small Hole to be made at the Point A; I say, that all the Parts of the Water, as RSTV, contain'd therein, will tend towards the Point A by the right Lines, RA, SA, &c. For all the Parts which were equally press'd before, cease to be so on that side which answers to the Hole. They must therefore tend towards it, since every Body that is press'd, must tend to move it self that way where it finds the least Resistance.

But if a Stopple be put in the Orifice A, and it be hastily thrust inwards, the same Parts, RS TV, &c. will all tend to remove themselves from the Hole, directly by the same Lines, AR, AS, &c. Because, upon the advancing in of the Stopple, they are more press'd on the Side wherein it enters.

Lastly, If we conceive the Stopple moved hastily backwards and forwards, all the Parts of the subtile Matter (which exactly fills the Foot-ball, whose Elasticity is very great, and which difficultly contracts or extends it self)▪ will receive infinite Vibrations from the Pressure.

Let us now suppose an Eye at T, or elsewhere, directed towards a Torch at A; the Parts of the Torch being in continual Motion, will constantly press the subtile Matter on all sides, and consequently quite from A to the Fund of the Eye: And the Optick Nerve, being vehemently press'd and shaken by very quick Vibrations, will excite in the Soul the Sensation of Light, or of a lively and glittering Whiteness.

If we suppose at S a dark Body M, the subtile Matter being not reflected towards the Eye that way directed, nor vibrating the Optick Nerve, the Body will appear black; as when we look into the Mouth of a Cave, or the Hole of the Pupil of the Eye.

If the Body M be such, as that the subtile Matter vibrated by the Torch, be reflected towards the Eye, without any Diminution of the Quickness of the Vibrations, the Body M will appear [Page] White, and so much the more White as there shall be more Rays reflected. It will likewise appear Luminous, as Flame, if the Body M being polish'd shall reflect all, or almost all the Rays in the same order.

But if the Body M be such, as that the subtile Matter reflected has its Vibrations less quick, in certain Degrees that cannot be exactly determin'd, the Result will be one of the primitive Colours, Yellow, Red, Blue, provided all the Parts of the Body M diminish equally the Vibrations caused by the Flame in the subtile Matter; and all the rest of the Colours made up of a Mixture of the primitive, will arise according as the Parts of the Body M shall unequally diminish the Quickness of the said Vibrations. This is what I meant, when I advanc'd in some Places of my Book, that Light and Colours consisted only in the Vibrations of Pressure, as they were more or less quick, produced by the subtile Matter on the Retina.

This simple Exposition of my Opinion will, perhaps, make it seem probable enough, to those at least who are acquainted with M. Des Cartes's Philosophy, and who are not satisfied with the Explication which that Learned Man gives of Colours: But that a more solid Judgment may be made on my Opinion, it is not enough to have barely propos'd it; it is requisite to produce some Arguments to confirm it.

To that End, it is necessary to observe, First, That Sound is rendred Sensible only by the Vibrations of the Air, which shake the Ear; for upon the Air's being drawn out of the Air-Pump, Sound is no longer heard.

Secondly, That the Difference of Tones proceeds not from the Strength of these Vibrations of the Air, but from their Quickness, as it is more or less.

Thirdly, That though the Impressions which Objects make upon the Organs of our Senses, differ sometimes, but according to more or less, the Sensations which the Soul receives from them differ essentially. There are no Sensations more opposite than Pleasure and Pain; and yet a Man that scratches himself with Pleasure, feels Pain, if he scratches a little harder than ordinary. There is great probability that Bitter and Sweet, which cause Sensations essentially different, differ only by more and less: For there are those who taste that Bitter which others taste Sweet. There are Fruits which to Day are Sweet, and to Morrow Bitter. A little Difference in Bodies makes them capable of causing very opposite Sensations; a sign that the Laws of Union of the Soul and Body are arbitrary, and an undoubted Proof that we receive not from Objects the Sensations we have of them.

Fourthly, If the Vibrations of the Air, as they are quicker or slower, produce very different Tones, we should not admire that the Vibrations of the subtile Matter, which presses perpetually the Optick Nerve, should cause us to see Colours altogether different, though the Celerity of these Vibrations differ only by more or less. When a Man has beheld the Sun, and his Optick Nerve has been strongly struck by the Lustre of its Light, because that Nerve is situate in the Focus of the Eye, if at that time he shut his Eyes, or enters with them open into a dark Place, the Concussion of the Optick Nerve, or of the Animal Spirits contain'd in the Nerve, diminishing by unequal Degrees, he sees successively Colours essentially different, first White, then Yellow, Red, Blue, and at last Black. Whence can this come, except that the Vibrations or Concussions of the Optick Nerve, which at first are very quick, become by Degrees more slow? (For we must not judge of the Concussions of the Optick Nerve, as of those of the Strings of Instruments, which are stretch'd in the Air, and fastned at both Ends, and the Celerity of whose Vibrations diminish not.) And might not one from thence alone conclude, that the Vibrations of the Retina, which cause Yellow, are quicker than those which cause Red; and those of Red, quicker than those of Blue; so of other Colours successively.

As the Pressure of the Air is only from the Weight of the Atmosphere, its Elasticity is but moderate, and some time is required that each part of Air may impell its Neighbour: And thus Sound is transmitted but leasurely, it making but about an Hundred and eighty Fathom in a Second. But the Case is different with Light, because all the Parts of the other, or subtile Matter, are contiguous, rapidly moved; and especially because they are compress'd with the Weight, as I may say, of all the Vortices. So that the Vibrations of Pressure, or the Action of a luminous Body, must be communicated to the greatest Distance in the shortest Time; and if the Pressure of the Parts constituting our Vortex, were actually infinite, the Vibrations of Pressure must undoubtedly be made in an Instant. Monsieur Hugens, in his Treatise of Light, pretends, from Observations made on the Eclipses of Jupiter's Satellites, that Light is transmitted about Six hundred thousand times faster than Sound. The Weight therefore of all the other, or the Compression of its Parts,Search after Truth, Ch. ult. is much greater than that of the Atmosphere. I think I have sufficiently proved, that the Hardness of Bodies can proceed only from the Pressure caused by this Weight; and if so, it must needs be extraordinary great, since there are Bodies so hard, as demand a very great Force to separate the least part of them.

Let us suppose then that all the Parts of the other, or of the subtile and invisible Matter of our Vortex, are compress'd with a kind of infinite Force, and that each of these Parts is very fluid, having its Hardness only from the Motion of those which incompass and compress it on all sides; and let us see how it's possible for the Impressions of infinite different Colours to be communicated without Confusion; how Ten thousand Rays which cut one another, in one physical or sensible Point, transmit, through the same Point, all their different Impulsions: For, probably, the System which can explain that great Difficulty, will be consonant to the Truth.

[Page]Let APEM be a Chamber painted with a great Variety of Colours, and let them be as opposite as may be; that is, let there be White at A next to

[figure]

Black at n, Blue at b next to Red at r, Yellow at i next to Purple at v. From all these Points, A nbriv, let right Lines be drawn, all cutting in one common Point O, and let an Eye be placed beyond it, as in E cdfgh, all these different Colours will be seen through the same Point of Intersection O. And since this Figure represents only one row of Colours, whereas we must imagine as many as there are visible Points in a Sphere, the Point of Intersection O, must receive and transmit an infinite Number of different Impressions, without destroying one another.

I say then, that if the Physical Point, or the Globule O, be an hard Body, as M. Des Cartes supposes it, it is impossible that an Eye at E should see White at A, and that another Eye at c should see Black at n. For a Body being hard, if any part of it tends directly from A, for Example, towards E, (that is, if it proceeds any whit to compress the Optick Nerve) all the other parts must necessarily tend thither also: and therefore Black and White cannot be seen at the same time, by the Interposition of the Globule O. M. Des Cartes pretends farther, that Red is made by the turning of the little Globules, which is communicated from one to another quite along the whole Ray, from the Object to the Eye. That Opinion is indefensible for many Reasons: but there needs no more to ruin it, than to consider that if the Globule O turn upon the axis P M from r, where there is Red, towards f where the Eye is placed, it cannot at the same time turn upon the axis r f from M, where I likewise suppose Red, towards P where I suppose another Eye. For the rest: When I say that the Rays cut themselves in the Globule O, I do not assert that the visual Rays have no greater density than that of a Globule of the second Element. I do not determine what thickness of these Rays is sufficient so to strike the Optick Nerve, as to cause it to see Colours. But what I have said of a single Globule, must be understood of an Hundred or a Thousand, if so many be required to make a Ray sensible.

It is not therefore possible that the little Globule O, or its fellows, should transmit the Action of infinite different Colours, if these Globules are hard: But if they be conceived infinitely soft, as the simple Idea of Matter represents them (since Rest has no Force, and it is indifferent to each part to be or not to be near another;) I say, if these Globules be conceived very soft, or rather as exquisitely little Vortices composed of an infinitely fluid Matter, they will be susceptible of infinite different Impressions, which they can communicate to others upon which they lean, and with which they are as it were infinitely compressed. I will endeavour to explain and prove this.

In order to which, it is necessary well to understand, that Re-action is here necessarily equal to Action, for these Reasons, That naturally Force is never destroy'd, that our Vortex is as it were infinitely compress'd, and that there is no Vacuum; and lastly, because the Ethereal Matter is in vehement Motion. If, for Example, a Man thrust his Cane against an immovable Wall, it will be repelled with the same Force that it is pushed. The Re-action will be equal to the Action. Now though the Rays are not hard like Sticks, yet very near the same thing will happen in regard of Re-action, because of the compression and plenitude of our Vortex.

For if we suppose a Cask exactly full of Water, and a Pipe being fitted to it, a Stopple be thrust into this Pipe, it will meet with a Resistance within, equal to the driving Force without. And if a little Hole be made in the middle of the Stopple, through which the Water may pass from the Vessel; and then the Stopple be thrust in, all the Water which shall be compressed by it, will tend at the same time, by reason of its fluidity, both to recede from every point of the Stopple, and also to approach the Hole in the middle of it. For if the Stopple be forced in with violence enough, the Vessel will burst in the weakest part of it, let it be where it will; a certain sign that the Water presses the Vessel every where; and if the Stopple be push'd in, the Water will immediately thereupon fly out by the little Orifice. All this, because Re-action is equal to Action in a plenum, and that Water, or the subtile Matter, is soft or fluid enough for every part of it, so to figure it self as to suffice for all sorts of Impressions. It must also be observed, That the more violently the Stopple is forc'd into the Vessel, the more forcibly the Water, whilst 'tis driven toward the Concave Surface of the Vessel, returns towards the Stopple, and leaps through the Hole.

Hence 'tis easie to perceive that a Black Point on White Paper must be more visible than upon Blue; because White repelling the light stronger than any other Colour, it must by its Re-action tend more forcibly towards the Black Point. But if the Ethereal Matter were not infinitely soft and fluid, it is plain that the little Globules which transmit the impression of White, being hard, would hinder that of Black, because these Globules supporting one another, could not tend towards the Black Point: And if that Ethereal Matter were not pressed, there would be no Re-action.

What I have been saying of White and Black, ought to be applied to other Colours, though it would be difficult to do it in particular, and to answer the Objections which many would make upon that Subject: For it is easie to raise Objections, in matters that are obscure. But all those who are able to make Objections, are not always capable of comprehending the Principles on which the Resolution of them depend. To me it seems easie enough, to conceive how it is possible for [Page] a sensible point of Matter, infinitely fluid, and compressed on all sides, to receive at the same time infinite different Impressions, if we attend to these two things: First, That Matter is divisible in infinitum: Secondly, That each part necessarily tends and advances that way where it meets with least resistance; and thus, that every soft and unequally press'd Body, receives all the Sculptures of the Mould, as I may say, that surrounds it, and receives them so much more readily as it is more fluid and more compress'd. I omit the enumeration of Consequences which follow from the Principles I have been explaining; by which Consequences, I think, may be removed that surprising Difficulty, how the Rays of different Colours may cross each other without Confusion; which appears to me so great a Difficulty, as that none but the true System of the World can entirely dissipate and resolve it.

As for the rest, it must not be imagined that what I have said of the Globules of the second Element (which I am so far from believing hard, as that I consider them as little Vortices) can injure M. Des Cartes's Physicks: On the contrary, my Opinion, if true, perfects his System in General. For if my Sentiment may be useful to the Explication of Light and Colours, it seems much more proper to resolve other General Questions of Natural Philosophy; as for Example, how to explain the surprizing Effects of Fire.

As Bodies cannot naturally acquire any Motion, unless it be communicated to them, it is manifest that Fire cannot be made but by the Communication of the Motion of the subtile Matter. M. Des Cartes, as is known, pretends that 'tis only the first Element which communicates its Motion to the third, of which gross Bodies are compos'd, and which sets it on fire. According to him, when one strikes fire, one forcibly dissevers a little part of the Flint: (I rather should believe it to be a part broke off from the Steel, which is kindled: For when we behold with a Microscope the Sparks of Fire which are collected, it appears to be the Iron which has been melted and reduced into Globules, or little long and round Figures. I have not observ'd any Change to have happen'd in the little parts broken from the Flint, but that makes nothing at the bottom.) That little part broken off from the Iron, spinning then round with force, drives the little Globules, or the second Element, and consequently causes that first to flow towards the Particle of Steel, which surrounding it on all sides, communicates its Motion to it, and sets it on fire. This is pretty nearly the Opinion of M. Des Cartes. It may be seen more at large in the Fourth Part of his Principles, in the 80th. and following Numbers. But if these Globules are hard, and all contiguous, it is difficult to conceive how the first Element could flow towards the separated part of the Iron, and that with a sufficient Quantity to encompass and set it on fire, not only that, but all the Powder of a Cannon or a Mine, since the first Element is but a very small Portion of the Ethereal Matter, as fitting only the little triangular or concave Spaces, which the contiguous Globules leave between them. This then is the Way that I explain Fire, upon Supposition that the little Globules of the second Element are only little Vortices of a violently agitated Matter.

Though the Air be not absolutely necessary to excite some Spark of Fire, yet for want of Air, Fire immediately goes out, and cannot so much as communicate it self to Gun-powder, though very easie to be inflamed. Experience shews, that if a Pistol well primed have its Cock struck down in an Air-Pump, when the Air is exhausted, the Priming never takes fire, and it is very difficult to observe the Sparks. Lastly, Every Body knows that Fire goes out for want of Air, and that it is kindled by blowing: This being supposed, see how I explain the Production of Fire.

When a Man strikes Fire in a Vacuum, he breaks off, by the force of the Blow, a little part of the Steel, or of the Flint; this little part whirling about, and striking rudely upon some little Vortices, breaks them; and consequently determines their Parts to follow its Determination, and to surround it in an Instant, and set it on fire. But the Matter of these little Vortices, after having made abundance of irregular Motions, re-places it self partly in new Vortices, and partly escapes between the Intervals of the surrounding Vortices, which approach the dissever'd part of Iron. And these new Vortices are not easily broken, because they follow pretty exactly the Motion of the part of Iron; which being perhaps either circular or cylindrous, and turning nearly, either upon its Centre, or its Axis, strikes no more the Vortices in a manner capable of breaking them. All this is perform'd as in an Instant, when the Flint strikes the Steel in a Place void of Air, and the Spark then is hardly visible.

But when the Steel is stricken in full Air, the part broken off from it, as it whirls, meets and vibrates a good deal of Air, whose Parts, probably branchy, meet with it, and break many more of the Vortices than the Iron alone. So that the subtile Matter of these Vortices, coming to surround the Iron and the Air, affords them plenty enough of different Motions, strongly to repel the other Vortices. Thus the Sparks must be much more glittering in the Air than in a Vacuum, they must remain much longer, and have sufficient force to fire Gun-powder; which cannot want subtile Matter to set it on fire, whatever Quantity of Powder there is; since it is not only the first Element, but much more the second, which produces its extraordinary Motion. If one make Reflexion on what happens to Fire, when 'tis clear, that is, when a great deal of Air is driven against it, we shall not doubt but that the Parts of the Air are very proper to determine the subtile Matter, to communicate a part of its Motion to the Fire since 'tis only from this Matter that the Fire can derive its Motion; no Body being capable of moving it self, but by the Action of those which environ it, or which strike against it.

The END.

§

§

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A TREATISE CONCERNING Nature and Grace.

BY Father MALEBRANCHE, Of the ORATORY.

Done into English out of French.

ADVERTISEMENT.

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I Intreat those into whose Hands this Tract shall come, to believe I principally undertook it to satisfie the Difficulties of some Philosophers, who, methoughts, had not all that due Sense Religion teaches us to have of the Goodness of GOD, nor were sufficiently acquainted with the Obligations we are under to JESUS CHRIST. I desire it may be look'd on only as an Essay, and not judg'd of before it be attentively examin'd; and that the Reader would not let himself be surpriz'd by the Motions of Fear and Mistrust, which naturally arise in us from any thing that bears the Character of Novelty. Having written for Philosophers, who stand upon a great Accuracy and rigorous Exactness, I have been oblig'd to avoid the General Terms in Ordinary Vse; since I could not content them without using such Terms as raise distinct and particular Ideas in the Mind, as far as the Subject will permit. I question not but equitable Persons will conclude I had no other Design than to prove in all possible manners the Truths we are taught by Faith; and that I am not so Inconsiderate as to call in question what the Church entertains as certain, and Religion obliges us to believe. But it has ever been allow'd Men to give New Proofs of Ancient Truths, to endear GOD to the Affections of Men, and to shew that there is nothing harsh or unjust in the Conduct He takes for the Establishment of His Church.

This Piece is divided into Three Discourses: In the First I represent GOD as working for his Creatures all the Good His Wisdom will permit. In the Second I explain how the SON of GOD, as Incarnate Wisdom, and Head of the Church, sheds on His Members the Graces He could not bestow, as Eternal Wisdom, and they could not receive from His Father. And I likewise endeavour to make Men sensible of the Obligations and Relations they are under to JESUS CHRIST. Lastly, in the Third Discourse, I shew what is Liberty, and how Grace works in us with a Salvo to it. Since there are Persons of so little Equity as to draw dangerous Consequences from Principles most Advantageous to Religion; I desire I may not be condemn'd upon their bare Word, but that, before I am judg'd, I may have the Justice done me of being understood. Surely there ought to be no Necessity of my making this Petition.

CONCERNING Nature and Grace. DISCOURSE I. Of the Necessity of the General Laws of NATURE and of GRACE.

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PART I. Of the Necessity of the General Laws of Nature.

I. SINCE GOD can act only for his own Glory, and can find this no where but in Himself, He could have no other Design in the Creation of the World than the Establishment of His Church.

II. JESUS CHRIST, who is the Head of it,Prov. 8.22. Eccl. 24.5, 14. Eph. 14.21, 22, 23.2.10, 21, 22.4.13, 16. Coll. 1.15, 16, 17, 18, 19. Ps. 72.17. Joh. 17▪15.24. Rom. 8.29. 1 Pe [...]. 1.2 [...]. Ap [...]c. 13.8.1.8, &c. is the Beginning of the Ways of the LORD; is the First Born of the Creatures; and though sent among Men in the Fulness of Time, was their Exemplar in the Eternal Designs of his Father: After his Image all Men were created, as well those that preceded as we that succeed His Temporal Birth. In a word, 'tis He in whom the Universe subsists, there being none besides that could make the Work of GOD perfectly worthy of its Author.

III. Some Proportion there ought to be between the World and the Action that produc'd it. But the Action that educ'd it out of Nothing is that of GOD, of an infinite Worth; whilst the World, though never so perfect, is not infinitely Amiable, nor can render to its Author an Honour worthy of Him. Thus separate JESUS CHRIST from the rest of the Creatures, and see if He, who acts but for his own Glory, and whose Wisdom has no Bounds, can purpose the Production of any External Work.

But joining JESUS CHRIST to His Church, and the Church to the rest of the World it is taken from, you raise to the Glory of GOD a Temple so majestick, magnificent, and holy, that you'll wonder perhaps he laid the Foundations of it so late.

IV. Yet if you observe, that the Glory which redounds to GOD from His Work, is not essential to Him; if you are persuaded, that the World cannot be a necessary Emanation of Deity, you will evidently see that it must not have been Eternal, though it ought to have no End. Eternity is the Character of Independency. The World therefore must have a Beginning: Annihilation of Substances is a Sign of Inconstancy in Him that produc'd them; therefore they will have no End.

V. If it be true then, that the World must have begun, and that the Incarnation of JESUS CHRIST could not have been so ancient as the Eternal Generation of his Divine Person: An Eternity must necessarily have preceded Time. Think not therefore that GOD delay'd the Production of His Work: He has a greater Love for the Glory He receives from it in JESUS CHRIST. In one Sense it may be most truly affirm'd, that He made it as soon as possible: For though to us he might have created it Ten thousand Years before the Beginning of Ages, yet, Ten thousand Years having no proportion to Eternity, He could neither do it sooner nor later, since an Eternity must have gone before.

VI. 'Tis manifest that Soon and Late are Properties of Time; and though we suppose that GOD had created the World as many Millions of Years as there are Grain of Sand on the Sea-shore, before He did, it might still be enquir'd, why GOD, who so loves the Glory he receives in the Establishment of His Church, had not begun it many Ages before? Thus it suffices to say, That an Eternity ought to forego the Incarnation of the WORD, to manifest why this Great Mystery was accomplish'd neither sooner nor later. GOD then must have created the Universe for the Church, and the Church for JESUS CHRIST; and JESUS CHRIST, that He might find in Him a Sacrifice and High-Priest worthy of the Divine Majesty. We shall not [Page] doubt of this Order of the Designs of GOD, if it be observ'd that He can have no other End of his Actions than Himself. And if it be conceiv'd that Eternity does not belong to Creatures, we shall acknowledge they were produc'd when 'twas requisite they should be: Which Truths suppos'd, let us try to discover something in the Method GOD takes for the Execution of His Grand Design.

VII. Were I not persuaded that all Men are no farther Reasonable than enlightned by Eternal Wisdom, it would, no doubt, be great Temerity to speak of the Designs of GOD, and offer to discover any of His Ways, in the Production of His Work. But whereas it is certain that the word Eternal is the Universal Reason of Minds, and that by the Light which he continually sheds in us, we may have some Communication with GOD, I ought not to be blam'd for consulting that Light, which, though Consubstantial with GOD Himself, fails not to answer those who know how to enquire of it by a serious Attention.

VIII. However, I confess that Faith teaches a great many Truths not discoverable by the natural Union of the Mind with Reason. Eternal Truth answers not to all we ask, since we ask sometimes more than we can receive. But this must not serve for a Pretence to justifie our Laziness and Inapplication.

IX. Vulgar Heads are soon wearied with the Natural Prayer, the Mind by its Attention ought to make to inward Truth, in order to receive Light and Understanding from it; and thus fatigu'd by that painful Exercise, they talk of it in a contemptuous manner. They dishearten one another, and cover their Weakness and Ignorance under the delusive Appearances of a counterfeit Humility.

X. But their Example is not to infuse into us that agreeable Vertue which cherishes Carelessness and Negligence in the Mind, and comforts it under its Ignorance of most necessary Truths. We must pray constantly to Him who enlightens all Men, That he will bestow His Light upon us, recompence our Faith with the Gift of Understanding; and especially, to prevent us from mistaking Probability and confus'd Sensations, which precipitate proud Minds into Darkness and Errour, for the Evidence which accompanies His Resolves.

XI. When we design to speak of GOD with any exactness, we must not consult our selves, nor the vulgar part of Men; but elevate our Thoughts above all Creatures, and with great Reverence and Attention consult the vast and immense Idea of a Being infinitely perfect; which representing the true GOD very different from what the Vulgar fancy Him to themselves, we are not to treat of Him in popular Language. Every Body is allow'd to say with the Scripture, that GOD Repented Him that He created Man; that He was Angry with his People; that he deliver'd Israel from Captivity by the Strength of His Arm. But these or the like Expressions are not permitted Divines, when they should speak accurately and justly. Therefore 'tis not to be wondred if in the Sequel of Discourse my Expression shall be found uncommon. It ought rather to be carefully observ'd whether they be clear, and perfectly adapted to the Idea which all Men have of an Infinitely Perfect Being.

XII. This Idea of a Being infinitely perfect includes two Attributes absolutely necessary to the Creation of the World; an unlimited Wisdom, and an irresistible Power. The Wisdom of GOD affords infinite Ideas of different Works, and all possible Ways for the executing His Designs; and His Power renders Him so absolutely Master of all things, and so independent of all Assistances whatever, that He need but Will to execute what he Wills. For we must above all take notice, that GOD needs no Instruments to work with; that His Wills are necessarily efficacious; in a Word, that as His Wisdom is His own Understanding, His Power is no other than His Will. Among these innumerable Ways whereby GOD might have executed His Design, let us see which was preferable to all other; and let us begin with the Creation of this Visible World, from which, and in which He forms the Invisible, which is the Eternal Object of His Love.

XIII. An excellent Artist ought to proportion his Action to his Work; he does not that by Ways compound, which may be perform'd by more simple; he acts not without End, and never makes insignificant Essays. Whence we are to conclude, that GOD discovering in the infinite Treasures of His Wisdom an Infinity of possible Worlds, as necessary Consequences of the Laws of Motion, which he could establish, was determin'd to the Creation of that which might be produc'd and preserv'd by the simplest Laws, or which should be the perfectest that could be, considering the simplicity of the Ways necessary to its Production and Preservation.

XIV. GOD might, doubtless, have made a perfecter World than that we inhabit. He might, for Instance, have caus'd the Rain, which fecundates the Earth, to have fallen more regularly on Plow'd Lands than in the Sea, where it is not necessary. But in order to this, He must have chang'd the Simplicity of His Ways, and have multiplied the Laws of the Communications of Motions, by which our World subsists; and so there would not have been that Proportion between the Action of GOD and His Work, which is necessary to determine an infinitely wise Being to act; or, at least, there would not have been the same Proportion between the Action of GOD and this so perfect World, as there is between the Laws of Nature, and the World we inhabit: For our World, imagine it as imperfect as you will, is sounded on so Simple and Natural Laws of Motion, as make it perfectly worthy of the infinite Wisdom of its Author.

And indeed I am of Opinion, that the Laws of Motion, necessary to the Production and Preservation of the Earth, and all the Stars in the Heavens, are reduc'd to these Two: First, That mov'd Bodies tend to continue their Motion in a right line: Secondly, That when two Bodies meet, their Motion is distributed to each, in proportion to their Magnitude; so that after the [Page] Collision they ought to move with equal degrees of Celerity. These two Laws are the Cause of all those Motions which produce that variety of Forms which we admire in Nature.

XVI. 'Tis own'd notwithstanding, that the second is [...]ever manifestly observable in the Experiments that can be made upon the Subject; but that comes from our seeing only what happens in visible Bodies, and our not thinking on the invisible that surround them, which by the Efficacy of the same Law, giving the Elasticity to visible Bodies, oblige them to rebound, and hinder them from observing it. But this I ought not to explain more at length.

XVII. Now these two Laws are so Simple, so Natural, and at the same time so Fruitful, that though we had no other Reason to conclude they are observ'd in Nature, we should be induc'd to believe them establish'd by Him who works always by the simplest Ways, in whose Action there is nothing but what's so justly uniform, and wisely proportion'd to his Work, that He does infinite Wonders by a very small Number of Wills.

XVIII. It fares not so with the General Cause, as with the Particular; with infinite Wisdom, as with limited Understandings. GOD foreseeing, before the Establishment of Natural Laws, all that could follow from them, ought not to have constituted them, if He was to disannul them. The Laws of Nature are constant and immutable, and general for all Times and Places. Two Bodies of such degrees of Magnitude and Swiftness, meeting, rebound so now as they did heretofore. If the Rain falls upon some Grounds, and the Sun scorches others; if a seasonable Time for Harvest is follow'd by a destructive Hail; if an Infant comes into the World with a monstrous and useless Head growing from his Breast, that makes him wretched; this proceeds not from the particular Wills of GOD, but from the Settlement of the Laws of Communication of Motions, whereof these Effects are necessary Consequences: Laws at once so simple and so fruitful, that they serve to produce all we see Noble in the World, and even to repair in a little time the most general Barrenness and Mortality.

XIX. He that having built an House, throws one Wing of it down, that he may rebuild it, betrays his Ignorance; and he who having planted a Vine, plucks it up as soon as it has taken root, manifests his Levity; because he that wills and unwills, wants either Knowledge or Resolution of Mind. But it cannot be said that GOD acts either by this Freakishness, or Ignorance, when a Child comes into the World with superfluous Members that make him leave it again; or that an Hail-stone breaks off a Fruit half ripe. If he causes this, 'tis not because he wills and unwills; for GOD acts not like particular Causes, by particular Wills; nor has he establish'd the Laws of the Communications of Motions, with design to produce Monsters, or to make Fruit fall before Maturity; it not being their Sterility but Fecundity, for which He will'd these Laws. Therefore what He once will'd, He still wills, and the World in general, for which these Laws were constituted, will eternally subsist.

XX. 'Tis here to be observ'd, That the Essential Rule of the Will of GOD is Order; and that if Man, for example, had not sinn'd, (a Supposition which had quite chang'd the Designs,) then Order not suffering him to be punish'd, the Natural Laws of the Communications of Motions would never have been capable to incommodate his Felicity. For the Law of Order, which requires that a righteous Person should suffer nothing against his Will, being Essential to GOD, the Arbitrary Law of the Communication of Motions must have been necessarily subservient to it.

XXI. There are still some uncommon Instances where these General Laws of Motions ought to cease to produce their Effect; not that GOD changes or corrects His Laws, but that some Miracles must happen on particular Occasions, by the Order of Grace, which ought to supersede the Order of Nature. Besides, 'tis fit Men should know that GOD is so Master of Nature, that if He submits it to His Laws establish'd, 'tis rather because He wills it so, than by an absolute Necessity.

XXII. If then it be true, that the General Cause ought not to produce His Work by particular Wills, and that GOD ought to settle certain constant and invariable Laws of the Communication of Motions, by the Efficacy whereof He foresaw the World might subsist in the State we find it; in one Sense it may be most truly said, that GOD desires all his Creatures should be perfect; that He wills not the Abortion of Children; nor loves monstrous Productions; nor has made the Laws of Nature with design of causing them; and that if it were possible by ways so simple to make and preserve a perfecter World, He would never have establish'd those Laws, whereof so great a Number of Monsters are the necessary Results: But that it would have been unworthy His Wisdom to multiply His Wills to prevent some particular Disorders, which by their Diversity make a kind of Beauty in the Universe.

XXIII. GOD has given to every Seed a Cicatricle, which contains in Miniature the Plant and Fruit; another Cicatricle adjoining to the former, which contains the Root of the Plant; which Root contains another Root still, whose imperceptible Branches expand themselves into the two Lobes or Meal of the Seed. Does not this manifest, that in one most real Sense He designs all Seeds should produce their like? For why should He have given to those Grains of Corn He design'd should be barren, all the Parts requisite to render them Fecund? Nevertheless, Rain being necessary to make them thrive, and this falling on the Earth by General Laws, which distribute it not precisely on well manur'd Grounds, and in the fittest Seasons, all these Grains come not to good; or, if they do, the Hail, or some other mischievous Accident, which is a Necessary Consequence of these same Natural Laws, prevents their earing. Now GOD having constituted these Laws, might be said to will the Fecundity of some Seeds rather than others, if [Page] we did not otherwise know that, it not becoming a General Cause to work by Particular Wills, nor an infinitely wise Being by Complicated Ways; GOD ought not to take other Measures than He has done for the Regulating the Rains according to Time and Place, or by the Desire of the Husbandman. Thus much is suffi [...]ient for the Order of Nature: Let us explain that of Grace a little more at large, and especially remember that 'tis the same Wisdom, and the same Will; in a word, the same GOD who has establish'd them both.

PART II. Of the Necessity of the General Laws of GRACE.

XXIV. GOD loving Himself by the Necessity of His Being, and willing to procure an Infinite Glory, and Honour on all Hands worthy of himself, consults His Wisdom for the accomplishing His Desires. This Divine Wisdom, fill'd with Love for Him from whom He receives His Being, by an Eternal and Ineffable Generation, seeing nothing in all possible Creatures worthy of the Majesty of His Father, offers Himself, to establish to His Honour an Eternal Worship, and to present Him, as High Priest, a Sacrifice which through the Dignity of His Person, should be capable of contenting Him. He represents to Him infinite Models, for the Temple to be rais'd to His Glory; and at the same time all possible Ways to execute His Designs. 'Mongst all which, that which instantly appears Greatest, and most Magnificent, most Uniform, and Comprehensive, is that whereof all the Parts have most Symmetry with the Person who constitutes the whole Glory and Sanctity of it: And the wisest way of executing that Design, is the Establishing certain most simple and fruitful Laws to bring it to its Perfection. This is what Reason seems to answer to all those who consult it with Attention, when following the Principles which Faith teaches us. Let us examine the Circumstances of this Great Design, and then endeavour to discover the Ways of executing it.

XXV. The Holy Scripture teaches us, That 'tis Jesus Christ who ought to make all the Beauty, the Sanctity, the Grandeur, and Magnificence of this Work. If Holy Writ compare it to a City, 'tis J [...]sus Christ who makes all the Lustre; it not being the Sun and the Moon, but the Glory of God, Apoc. 21.23. Col. 1.18.2.20. Ephes. 1. [...]2. and the Light of the Lamb that shine upon it. When representing it as a Living Body, whereof all the Parts have a wonderful Proportion, 'tis Jesus Christ who is the Head of it. 'Tis from Him the Spirit and Life are communicated into all the Members that compose it. Speaking of it as a Temple, Jesus Christ is the Chief Corner-stone, which is the Foundation of the Building. 'Tis He who is the High Priest, and Sacrifice of it. All the Faithful are Priests; but as they participate of his Priesthood, they are Victims, only as par [...]aking of His Holiness; it being in Him and through Him alone they continually offer themselves to the Majesty of God. In fine, 'tis only from the Analogy they bear to Him, that they contribute to the Beauty of this August and Venerable Temple, which has always been, and will eternally continue, the Object of the good Pleasure of God.

XXVI. Reason likewise evinces these same Truths▪ For what Proportion is there between Creatures, how perfect soever we suppose them, and the Action that produces them? How can any Creatures which are finite, be equivalent to the Action of God of infinite Worth? Can God receive any thing from a mere Creature that determines him to act? But be it so, that God made Man with Hopes of being honour'd by him; whence comes it, that those who dishonour Him make the greatest Number? Is not this a sufficient Indication that God is very negligent of His pretended Glory, which He receives from His Work, if separated from His Well-beloved Son; that it was in Jesus Christ that He resolv'd to produce it, and that without Him it would not subsist a moment.

XXVII. A Man resolves upon a Work, because he has need of it, or has a Mind to see what Effect it will have; or, lastly, because by this Essay of his Strength he learns what he is able to produce. But God has no need of his Creatures; nor is He like Men who receive new Impressions from the Presence of Objects. His Ideas are Eternal and Immutable. He saw the World before it was form'd, as well as he sees it now. Lastly, Knowing that His Wills are efficacious, he perfectly knows, without making trial of his Strength, all that He's capable of producing. Thus Scripture and Reason assure us, that by Reason of Jesus Christ the World subsists, and through the Dignity of his Divine Person receives an additional Beauty, which renders it well pleasing in the Sight of God.

XXVIII. From which Principle, methinks, it follows, that Jesus Christ is the Model by which we are made; that we were fram'd after His Image and Similitude, and have nothing comely in us any farther than we are the Draught and Ectypon of Him; that He is the End of the Law, and the Archetype of the Ceremonies and Sacrifices of the Jews. That to determine that Succession of Generations preceding His Birth, they must needs have had some certain Agreements with Him, whereby they became more pleasing to God than any other. That since Jesus Christ was to be the Head and Husband of the Church, 'twas requisite he should be typified by the Propagation of Mankind from one Person; as related by Moses, and explain'd by St. Paul. In a word, from this Principle it follows, that the present World ought to be the Figure of the [Page] future; and that as far as the Simplicity of General Laws will permit, all the Inhabitants of it have been or shall [...]e the Figures and Resemblances of the Only Son of God, quite from Abel, in whom he was sacrificed, to the last Member that shall constitute His Church.

XXIX. We judge of the Perfection of a Work by its Conformity with the Idea afforded us by Eternal Wisdom: For there is nothing Beautiful or Amiable, but as related to Essential, Necessary, and Independent Beauty. Now that Intelligible Beauty, being made sensible, becomes even in this Capacity the Rule of Beauty and Perfection. Therefore all Corporeal Creatures ought to receive from it all their Excellency and Lustre. All Minds ought to have the same Thoughts and the same Inclinations as the Soul of Jesus, if they would be agreeable to those who see nothing Beautiful, nothing Amiable, save in what is conformable to Wisdom and Truth. Since therefore we are oblig'd to believe the Work of GOD to have an absolute Conformity with Eternal Wisdom, we have all Reason to believe, that the same Work has infinite Correspondencies with Him who is the Head, the Principle, the Pattern, and the End of it. But who can explain all these Agreements?

XXX. That which makes the Beauty of a Temple, is the Order and Variety of Ornaments that are found in it. Thus, to render the Living Temple of the Divine Majesty worthy of its Inhabitant, and proportionate to the Wisdom and infinite Love of its Author, all possible Beauties are to make it up. But it is not so with this Temple rais'd to the Glory of God, as with Material ones. For that which constitutes the Beauty of the Spiritual Edifice of the Church, is the infinite Diversity of Graces, communicated from Him, who is the Head of it, to all the constituent Parts. 'Tis the Order and admirable Proportions settled among them, 'tis the various Degrees of Glory shining and reflecting on all sides round about it.

XXXI. It follows from this Principle, that to the establishing that Variety of Rewards, which make up the Beauty of the Heavenly Jerusalem, Men ought to be subject upon Earth, not only to Purgative Afflictions, but also to the Motions of Concupiscence, which make them gain so many Victories by administring such a multitude of various Combats.

XXXII. The Blessed in Heaven, no doubt, will be endow'd with a Sanctity, and Variety of Gifts, perfectly corresponding to the Diversity of their Good Works. Those continual Sacrifices, whereby the Old Man is destroy'd and annihilated, will enrich the Spiritual Substance of the New Man with Graces and Beauties. And if it were necessary that Jesus Christ should suffer all sorts of Afflictions before He enter'd on the Possession of His Glory; Sin, which introduc'd into the World the Miseries of Life; and Death, which follows it, were necessary, that Men after their Trial upon Earth might be legitimately crown'd with that Glory, the Variety and Order whereof shall make the Beauty of the future World.

XXXIII. 'Tis true, that Concupiscence which we feel in us is not necessary to our Meriting: For Jesus Christ, whose Merits are infinite, was not subject to it. But though He absolutely controll'd it, He was willing to admit in Himself the most vexatious Motions and Sensations, that He might merit all the Glory that was prepar'd for Him. Of all Sensations, that which is most repugnant to a Soul willing, and deserving to be happy, is Pain; wbich yet He was willing to suffer in the most excessive degree. Pleasure makes actually Happy the Person that actually enjoys it, which yet he willingly deny'd Himself. Thus he has offer'd, like us, innumerable Sacrifices, through a Body which he took like ours: But these Sacrifices were of a different kind from those of the greatest Saints; because he voluntarily rais'd in Himself all those painful Sensations, which in the rest of Men are the necessary Consequences of Sin; which being thus perfectly voluntary, were therefore more pure and meritorious.

XXXIV. If I had a clear Idea of the Blessed Spirits, who are not embody'd, I perhaps could clearly resolve a Difficulty that arises from their Consideration. For it may be objected, either that there is very little Variety in the Merits or Rewards of Angels, or that it was to ill purpose for God to unite Bodies to Spirits, which are, whilst united, so dependant on them. I confess I do not see any great Diversity in the Rewards answering the Merits of purely intelligible Substances, especially if they have merited their Recompence by one sole Act of Love. For being not united to a Body, which might be an Occasion to God's giving them, by most Simple and General Laws, a Train of different Thoughts and Sensations, I see no Variety in their Combats, or Victories? But possibly another Order has been establish'd, which is unknown to me; and therefore I ought not to speak of it. And 'tis sufficient that I have establish'd a Principle, from whence may be concluded, that God ought to create Bodies, and unite Minds to them, that by the most simple Laws of Union of these two Substances, He might give us in a general, constant, and uniform manner, that great Variety of Sensations and Motions, which is the Principle of the Diversity of our Merits and Rewards.

XXXV. Lastly, 'twas requisite that God alone should have all the Glory of the Beauty and Perfection of the future World. This Work, which infinitely excels all others, ought to be a Work of pure Mercy. It was not for Creatures to glory in having any other part in it,Rom. 11.32. Gal. 3.22▪ than that the Grace of Jesus Christ had given them. In a word, 'twas fit that God should suffer all Men to be involv'd in Sin, that He might shew them Mercy in Jesus Christ.

XXXVI. Thus the first Man, being impower'd by the Strength of His Charity, to persevere in Original Righteousness, God ought not to have fix'd him to his Duty, by preventing Pleasures; for having no Concupiscence to conquer, God ought not to prevent his Free Will by the Delectation of His Grace. In short, having all in general that was necessary to his meriting his Reward, God, who works nothing in vain, ought to leave him to himself, though He foresaw His Fall, since [Page] He design'd to raise him up in Jesus Christ, put Free Will to confusion, and manifest the Greatness of His Mercy. Let us now endeavour to discover the Ways whereby God executes His Eternal Purpose of the Sanctification of His Church.

XXXVII. Though God in the Establishment of the future World acts in Ways very different from those by which He preserves the present; yet it ought not to be imagin'd that difference is so great as to take from the Laws of Grace the Character of the Cause that made them. As it is the same God, who is the Author both of the Order of Grace and Nature; these two Orders must agree in all those included Symptoms, which discover the Wisdom and Power of their [...]ounder. Therefore since God is a General Cause, whose Wisdom has no Bounds, He must needs, for the Reasons before given, act as such in the Order of Grace, as well as in that of Nature; and His own Glory being His End, in the Construction of His Church; He must establish most Simple and General Laws, and which have the greatest Proportion of Wisdom, and Fertility with their design'd Effect.

XXXVIII. The more wise an Agent is, the more comprehensive are his Wills. A very limited Understanding is constantly taking fresh Designs, and in the Execution of any one of them employs more Means than are useful. In a word. a straitned Capacity does not sufficiently compare the Means with the End; the Force and the Action, with the Effect to be produc'd by them.

On the contrary, a Mind of great Reach and Penetration collates and weighs all things; forms not Designs, except upon the Knowledge of the Means to dispatch them; and when it has observ'd in these Means a certain Proportion of Wisdom with their Effects, he puts them in practice. The more simple are the Machines, and more different their Effects, the more Marks they bear of an intelligent Workman, and more worthy they are to be esteem'd. The great Number of Laws in a State, are commonly a Proof of the want of Insight and Extent of Thought in their [...]ounders; it being rather the Experience of their Exigency, than a wise Fore-sight that establish'd them. God therefore, whose Wisdom is infinite, ought to employ the simplest and most comprehensive Means in the Formation of a future World, as well as in the Preservation of the present. He ought not to multiply His Wills, which are the executive Laws of His Designs, save when Necessity obliges Him to it; but must act by General Wills, and so settle a Constant and Regular Order, by which He foresees, through the infinite Comprehension of His Wisdom, that a Work so admirable as His must needs be form'd. Let us see the Consequences of this Principle, and the Application we may make of it in the Explication of those Difficulties which seem very puzzling and perplex'd.

XXXIX. Holy Writ on one hand teaches us, that God wills all Men should be sav'd, and come to the Knowledge of the Truth; and on the other, that He does whatever He wills; and yet Faith is not given to all Men; and the Number of those that perish is greater than that of the Predestinate. How can this be reconcil'd with His Power?

XL. God foresaw from all Eternity Original Sin, and the Infinite Number of those whom Sin should cast into Hell; and nevertheless created the First Man in a State from whence He knew He must fall; and likewise has appointed such Relations betwixt this Man and his Posterity, as must communicate his Sin, and render them all worthy His Aversion and His Anger. How is this to be reconcil'd with His Goodness?

God often sheds abroad His Graces, without having the Effect for which His Goodness obliges us to believe He gives them. He increases Piety in Persons till towards the End of their Days, and Sin triumphs over them at Death, and throws them headlong into Hell. He makes the Rain of His Grace to fall on hardned Hearts as well as on prepar'd Grounds, which Men resist and render ineffectual. In a word, God continually does and undoes; and seems to will and nill again. How shall this be reconcil'd with His Wisdom?

Lo here great Difficulties. And the whole oeconomy of Religion; the Idea we have of a Good, Wise, Powerful God, constant in His Designs, regular in His Action; and a thousand places in Scripture furnish us with several others, contrary to what we experimentally find every Day in the Order of Grace; and though very Learned Men have answer'd them, to me they seem incapable of a satisfactory and clear Resolution, without the fore-establish'd Principle.

XLII. For my own part, I always believ'd that God would have all Men saved. Reason and Scripture will not suffer me to doubt it. And though the Authors whom I honour with a very profound Reverence, have in the preceding Ages given out various Explications of this Truth, I have ever been uneasie to receive such, as without any Necessity seem'd to me to give Bounds to the Extent of God's Goodness and Mercy. Therefore consulting the Idea which all Men have of God, I enter'd on this Opinion, which I now expose to the Censure of all those who shall be willing to examine it attentively, and pass an equitable Judgment on it.

XLIII. God being oblig'd to act always in a manner that becomes Him, by ways Simple, General, Constant, and Uniform: In a word, suitable to the Idea we have of a General Cause, whose Wisdom has no Bounds; ought to settle certain Laws in the Order of Grace, as I have prov'd He has done in the Order of Nature. Which Laws, by Reason of their Simplicity, must necessarily have unhappy Consequences in reference to us. But these Consequences are not of such Account, as should cause God to change these Laws for more compounded; as having a greater Proportion of Wisdom, and Fecundity to the Work they produce, than all that could be establish'd for the same Design; since he always acts in the wisest and perfectest manner. 'Tis true, God could redress these unhappy Consequences by an infinite Number of particular Wills: But Order will not suffer him. The Effect producible by each Will would not countervail the Action that should [Page] produce it. And consequently God is not to be blam'd for not disturbing the Order and Simplicity of his Laws by Miracles, which would be very welcome to our Exigencies, but very repugnant to the Wisdom of God, whom it is not lawful to tempt.

XLIV. Therefore, as 'twould be unreasonable in us to be angry at the Rain's falling in the Sea, where 'tis useless, and escaping Seeded Grounds where 'tis necessary; since the Laws of Communication of Motions are most Simple, most Exuberant, and perfectly worthy of their Author's Wisdom; and that by these Laws it is impossible the Rain should fall rather on the Earth than Sea, so we ought not to complain of the seeming Irregularity, by which Grace is given to Men. 'Tis the Regularity wherewith God works; 'tis the Simplicity of the Laws he observes; 'tis the Wisdom, and Uniformity of his Conduct, which is the Cause of that seeming Irregularity. 'Tis necessary by the Laws of Grace establish'd by God in favour of his Elect, and for the Construction of his Church, that Celestial Rain should fall as well on hardn'd as prepar'd Hearts; and if it be shed in vain, 'tis not because God acts without Design; much less with Design of making Men more culpable by the Abuse of his Favours: But because the Simplicity of General Laws permits not that Grace which is lost in a corrupt Heart, to fall upon another where it would have been effectual. Since this Grace is not given by a particular Will, but in pursuance of the Immutability of the General Order of Grace; if this Order produces a Work proportion'd to the Simplicity of its Laws, it suffices to render it worthy of the Wisdom of its Author. For, in short, the Order of Grace would be less perfect, less admirable, and amiable, if it were more complex'd.

XLV. If God gave Grace by particular Wills, doubtless he would never go to convert a Sinner, who had four Degrees of Concupiscence, by giving him three Degrees of Spiritual Election, supposing these Degrees insufficient for his Conversion. He would defer his Liberality till the Sinner was absent from the tempting Object, or rather would bestow the same Grace of three Degrees Strength to him whose Concupiscence was less lively. For to what Purpose is it to give three Degrees of Spiritual Delectation to one that wants four, and to deny them him whom they were sufficient to convert? Is this suitable to the Idea we have of the Wisdom and Goodness of God? Is this to love Men, to will they should be sav'd, and to do for them all he can? Nevertheless, God cries out by his Prophet: O Inhabitants of Jerusalem, and Men of Judah, Isaiah 5.3, 4. judge, I pray ye, betwixt me and my Vineyard. What could have been done more to my Vineyard, that I have not done in it: Wherefore, when I look'd that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild grapes? What Wisdom is there in giving by particular Wills so many fruitless Graces to Sinners, if we suppose God wills their Conversion, as we are taught by Scripture, and has no fatal Design of rendring them more culpable and criminal by his Gifts?

XLVI. But if Grace be bestow'd on Men by most Simple and General Laws, all these great Difficulties vanish. The settled Order of Grace having a greater proportion of Wisdom and Fecundity to the Work which God produces than any other, ought to be chosen for the Establishment of His Church. Thus we may affirm, That God truly wills the Salvation of all Men; that He does for them all that's possible, whilst he acts as becomes him; that if there were any Order of Grace as simple, but more fecund, as worthy of his Wisdom, and more advantageous to Men, he would have chosen it; and that therefore he saves as many as it's possible to save, whilst acting by the adorable Rules prescrib'd by his Wisdom.

XLVII. Let Men therefore love and adore not only the Good Will of God, by which the Elect are sanctify'd; but also the secret Judgments of his Justice, by which so great a Number are rejected. 'Tis the same Order of Wisdom; they are the same Laws of Grace which produce these so different Effects. God is equally adorable and amiable in all he does; his Conduct always abounds with Wisdom and Goodness. Wo to the Wicked, who condemn it without understanding it, and who would have the immutable Order of Divine Wisdom to stoop and accommodate it self to their Passions and Interests!

XLVIII. The wise and industrious Husbandmen plow, dung, and sow their Lands with great Labour and Cost. They carefully observe the fittest Seasons, for the different Agriculture, and tax not God with the Success of their Labours. They leave their Work to the Order of Nature, well knowing it's in vain to tempt God, and to fancy that on our behalf he will change the Order which his Wisdom prescribes.

XLIX. Jesus Christ came to teach us to imitate their Conduct, who having for us an immense Charity, and desiring to save us, as much as the Simplicity of the General Laws of Nature and Grace will permit, has forgotten nothing that might bring us into the ways that lead to Heaven. That which most withstands the Efficacy of Grace, are sensible Pleasures, and Sensations of Pride; there being nothing which so much corrupts the Mind, and hardens the Heart, more than these. But has not Jesus Christ sacrificed and annihilated in his Person all Grandeurs and Pleasures sensible? Was not his Life to us a continual Example of Humility and Repentance? How was he born? how did he die? what was his Conversation in the World? every Body knows. To what likewise is his Doctrine reducible, and whither tend all his Counsels? Is it not to Humility and Repentance, to a General Self-denial of all that gratifies the Senses, of all that corrupts the Purity of the Imagination, of all that cherishes and strengthens the Concupiscence of Pride? Therefore whatever he has said, whatever he has done, whatever he has suffer'd, was to prepare us by his Doctrine, his Example, and Merits, to receive the Celestial Rain of Grace, and to render it efficacious. Since he could not, or ought not to alter the Laws of Nature, tempt God, or trouble the Order and Simplicity of his Ways; He has done all for Men that could inspire them with the most Extensive, Industrious, and Ardent Charity.

[Page]L. I fear not, after what the Scripture has said of it, to affirm that the Charity of Jesus Christ is Immense and Incomprehensible; and though all Men receive not the Effects of it, it would be presumptuous Rashness to go to set Bounds to it.1 Cor. 8.11. He died for all Men, even for those who perish everlastingly. Why do not Sinners enter into the Order of Grace? Why do they not follow the Counsels of Jesus Christ, and prepare themselves for the Reception of the Rain of Heaven? They cannot merit it, but they may encrease its Efficacy on their Account. Cannot they from a Principle of Self-love, through the Fear of Hell; or if you will, by General Graces, avoid many Occasions of sinning? deny themselves Pleasures, at least those they have not yet tasted, and consequently are not enslaved to? Thus they may take away some Le [...]ts and Impediments to the Efficacy of Grace, and prepare the Earth of their Heart, so as to make it fruitful when God shall pour his Rain upon them, by the General Laws he has prescrib'd himself. But they would have God to save them, without any trouble on their part; like those lazy and senseless Labourers, who, without giving their Fields the ordinary Improvements, pretend that God ought to shower-down so impregnating and abundant Rains, as may save them their Trouble. False and vain Confidence▪ God causes it to rain as well on Fallow as Cultivated Lands. But let the Proud and Voluptuous know, that the Rain of Grace shall fall much less on them than on other Men, whilst yet they put themselves in such a Condition as requires much more to convert them.

LI. Since God ordinarily diffuses his Graces by General Laws, we clearly see the Necessity of the Counsels of Jesus Christ. We see that they ought to be follow'd, that God may save us by the simplest ways; whilst giving us but little Grace, he operates a great deal in us. We see clearly that it lies on us to labour and to cultivate our Field, before the Heats of Concupiscence have dried and hardned it; or at least when the Rain has diluted and softned it; that we must diligently observe the moments in which our Passions leave us some Liberty, that we may seize the Advantage that is offer'd: That we must extirpate, as much as possible, whatever may suffocate the Seed of the Word; and not foolishly imagine we shall repent, when we have made our Fortune in the World, or are ready to leave it. For besides that, it depends not on the Husbandmen to make it rain when their Occasions call for it; when a Field has lain long fallow, the Brambles and Thorns strike their Roots so deep, that those who are most us'd to labour, have neither strength nor desire to cultivate it.

LII. But if God acted in the Order of Grace by particular Wills, and efficaciously caus'd in all Men all their good Motions, and Operations, with a particular Design; I see not how it might be justify'd, that he acts by the most simple Laws; when I consider all those indirect ways by which Men arrive to the Place where God conducts them. For I doubt not but God sometimes gives a Man no more than an hundred good Thoughts in a whole Day. Nor can I any more conceive how 'tis possible to reconcile his Wisdom and Goodness, with all the ineffectual Graces the Malice of Men resists. For God being Good and Wise, ought he not to proportion his Supplies to our Needs, if he afforded them with a particular Design of comforting us?

LIII. God makes the Weeds to grow with the Corn till the time of Harvest; he causes it to rain on the Just and Unjust; because Grace falling on Men by General Laws, is often given to such as make no use of it; whereas if others had receiv'd it, they would have been converted. If Jesus Christ had preach'd to the Syrians and Sydonians, as well as to the Inhabitants of Bethsaida and Chorazin, they would have repented in Sackcloth and Ashes. If the Rain which falls on the Sands had been shower'd upon prepar'd Fields, it would have made them fruitful. But what is regulated by General Laws, is not suited to particular Designs; and it suffices to justifie the wise Establishment of these Laws, that being extremely simple, they carry to its Perfection the Grand Work for which they were enacted.

But though I do not believe that God has innumerable particular Designs for every of his Elect, or that he daily gives them multiplicity of good Thoughts and Motions by particular Wills; yet I deny not but they are predestined by a bounteous Will of God had to them, for which they ought to pay their Eternal Gratitude and Acknowledgments. Which things I explain as follows.

LIV. God discovers in the infinite Treasures of his Wisdom an Infinity of possible Works; and at once the perfectest way of producing each of them. Amongst which he considers his Church: Jesus Christ who is the Head of it, and all the Persons which in consequence of some General Laws establish'd, ought to compose it. In brief, upon Consideration of Jesus Christ and all his Members, he constitutes Laws for his own Glory. Which being so, is it not evident that Jesus Christ, who is the Principle of all the Glory redounding to God from his Work, is the first of the Predestinate? and that all the Elect are likewise truly lov'd, and predestined gratis in Jesus Christ, because they may honour God in his Son? That, lastly, they are all under infinite Obligations to God, who without regard to their Merit, has settled the General Laws of Grace, which ought to sanctifie them, and conduct them to the Glory they shall eternally possess.

LV. You'll say, perhaps, that these Laws are so simple and exuberant, that God must prefer them to all other; and that since he only loves his own Glory, his Son ought to become incarnate; and so has done nothing purely for his Elect. I confess God has done nothing purely for his Elect: For St. Paul teaches us, that he has made his Elect for Jesus Christ, and Jesus Christ for himself. If God cannot be rendred amiable to Men, unless we make him act purely for them, or not in the wisest manner, I had rather be silent. Reason teaches me, that we render God amiable by shewing him to be infinitely perfect, and by representing him so full of Love for his Creatures, as not to produce any one with Design of making him miserable. For if all are not so happy as to enjoy his Presence, 'tis because Order requiring that so great a Good should be merited; [Page] all do not deserve it, for the Reasons I have given. Surely this is to make God lovely, to represent him such as even the Reprobate cannot choose but adore his Conduct, and repent them of their Negligence.

LVI. Yet for their Satisfaction, who will have God to predestine every of his Elect by a particular Will, it may be said with a Salvo to the foregoing Hypothesis, That God, before he created Souls to unite them to Bodies, foresaw all that could befall them by the General Laws of Nature and Grace, and all that they should do in all possible Circumstances: Therefore being able to create, as is suppos'd, the Soul of Paul, or of Peter, and to unite it to a Body which he foresaw should be that of a Predestinate Person; he resolved, from all Eternity, to create the Soul of Paul by a Benevolent Will had for him, and to predestine him by this Choice to Life Eternal; whereas he creates the Soul of Peter, not for any Benevolent Will had to him, but by a kind of Necessity, by Reason of the Laws of Union which he has most wisely establish'd betwixt Souls and Bodies, by which he is oblig'd, as soon as Bodies are form'd, to unite Souls to them; which would have been advantageous to all, if Man had not sinned. But the Body of Peter being begotten of an Heathen Father, or of one that is careless of his Children's Education; or, Lastly, Peter being engag'd by the Fortune of his Birth, Places, Times, Employments, which induce him to Evil, will infallibly be one of the Reprobate. Yet Peter shall be useful to the Designs of God. For though he himself shall not enter into the Number of the Predestinate; yet he shall by some of his Posterity: He shall be subservient to the Beauty and Grandeur of the Church of Jesus Christ, by the infinite Relations he shall have to the Elect. Furthermore, he shall not be miserable, but in proportion to the wrong use he has made of his Liberty, since God punishes with Pain only voluntary Disorders. This is what may be offer'd for the Satisfaction of some Persons Inclination; though I cannot clearly see how it can be altogether rely'd on.

LVII. Such as ascribe to God particular Designs and Wills, for all the particular Effects produc'd in Consequence of General Laws, commonly employ the Authority of Scripture to justifie their Opinion. But being the Scripture is made for all the World, for the Simple as well as the Intelligent, it abounds with Anthropologies. It not only ascribes to God a Body, a Throne, a Chariot, and Equipage; Passions of Joy, Sorrow, Wrath, Repentance, and other Motions of the Soul; but also attributes to him the customary Ways of humane Actings, that it may speak to the Simple in a more sensible manner. If Jesus Christ became Man, 'twas in part to satisfie the Inclination of Men, who love what is like them, and are studious of what affects them. 'Twas by this real and true kind of Anthropology to persuade Men of those Truths they were incapable to comprehend any other way. Thus St. Paul, to accommodate himself to the World, speaks of the Sanctification and Predestination of the Saints, as if God continually work'd in them by particular Wills; and even Jesus Christ speaks of his Father, as if he took care by such like Wills to adorn the Lilies, and to preserve every Hair of the Head of his Disciples: Because, in truth, the Goodness of God to his Creatures being extreme, these Expressions afford a great Idea of it, and recommend God to the Affections of the grossest Souls, and such as are most infected with Self-love. Yet as by the Idea we have of God, and by the Passages of Scripture conformable to that Idea, we correct the Sense of other Texts which attribute to God Members and Passions like ours; so when we would speak with Exactness of the manner of God's acting in the Order of Grace, or Nature, we ought to explain those Passages which make him act as a Man, or a particular Cause, by the Idea we have of his Wisdom and Goodness, and other Scripture Passages comporting with that Idea. For, in fine, if we may say, or rather if we are oblig'd to say, from the Idea we have of God, that he causes not every drop of Rain to fall by particular Wills, though the natural Sense of some Scripture Passages authorises that Opinion; there is the same Necessity to think, notwithstanding some Authorities of the Scripture, that God gives not by particular Wills to some Sinners all those good Motions which are useless to them, and which would be useful to several others: For otherwise I see not how 'tis possible to reconcile the Holy Scripture either with Reason, or it self, as I think I have prov'd.

If I thought what I have said insufficient to convince attentive Persons, that God acts not by particular Wills, like particular Causes, and finite Understandings, I would proceed to shew that there were very few Truths that would admit of greater Probation; on Supposition that God governs the World, and that the Nature of the Heathen Philosophers is nothing. For indeed every thing in Nature proves this Opinion, except Miracles; which yet would not be Miracles, or different from those we call Natural Effects, if it were true that God acted by particular Wills, since Miracles are such only from their not happening by General Laws. Therefore Miracles suppose these Laws, and prove the Opinion I have establish'd. But as to ordinary Effects, they clearly and directly demonstrate General Laws or Wills. If, for Instance, a Stone be dropp'd upon the Head of Passengers, it will continually fall with equal speed, not distinguishing the Piety or Quality, or Good or Ill Disposition of those that pass. If we examine any other Effect, we shall see the same Constancy in the Action of the Cause of it: But no Effect proves that God acts by particular Wills; though Men commonly fancy God is constantly working Miracles in their Favour. That way they would have God to act in, being consonant to their own, and indulgent to Self-love, which centers all things on themselves; and very proportionate to their Ignorance of the Complication of Occasional Causes, which produce extraordinary Effects, naturally falls into Mens Thoughts, when but greenly studied in Nature, and consult not with sufficient Attention the abstract Idea of an Infinite Wisdom, of an Universal Cause, of a Being Infinitely Perfect.

CONCERNING Nature and Grace. DISCOURSE II. Of the Laws of GRACE in particular, and of the Occasional Causes, which regulate and determine their Efficacy.

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PART I. Of the Grace of JESVS CHRIST.

I. SINCE none but GOD can act immediately and by himself on Minds, and produce in them all the various Motions they are capable of: 'Tis he alone who sheds his Light within us, and inspires us with certain Sensations, which determine our diverse Volitions. And therefore none but he can, as a By True Cause, I understand that which acts by its own Force. True Cause, produce Grace in our Souls. For Grace, or that which is the Principle or Motive of all the Regular Motions of our Love, is necessarily either a Light which instructs us, or a confus'd Sensation that convinces us, that God is our Good; since we never begin to love an Object, unless we see clearly by the Light of Reason, or feel confusedly by the tast of Pleasure, that this Object is good; I mean capable of making us happier than we are.

II. But since all Men are involv'd in Original Sin, and even by their Nature infinitely beneath the Majesty of God. 'Tis Jesus Christ alone that can by the Dignity of his Person, and the Holiness of his Sacrifice, have access to his Father, reconcile him to us, and merit his Favours for us; and consequently be the meritorious Cause of Grace. These Truths are certain: But we are not seeking the Cause which produces Grace by its own Efficacy; nor that which merits it by its Sacrifice and Good Works. We enquire for that which regulates and determines the Efficacy of the General Cause, and which we may term the Second, Particular, and Occasional.

III. For to the end the General Cause may act by General Laws, or Wills; and that his Action may be regular, constant, and uniform, 'tis absolutely necessary there should be some Occasional Cause to determine the Efficacy of these Laws, and to help to fix them. If the Collision of Bodies, or something of like Nature, did not determine the Efficacy of the General Laws of the Communication of Motions, it would be necessary for God to move Bodies by particular Wills. The Laws of Union of the Soul and Body become efficacious only from the Changes befalling one or other of these two Substances. For if God made the Soul feel the Pain of pricking, tho' the Body were not prick'd, or though the same thing did not happen in the Brain, as if it were, he would not act by the General Laws of Union of the Soul and Body, but by a particular Will. If Rain fell on the Earth otherwise than by a necessary Consequence of the General Laws of Communication of Motions, the Rain, and the Fall of every Drop that composes it, would be the Effect of a particular Will. So that unless Order requir'd it should rain, that Will would be absolutely unworthy of God. 'Tis necessary therefore that in the Order of Grace there should be some Occasional Cause, which serves to fix these Laws, and to determine their Efficacy. And this is the Cause we must endeavour to discover.

IV. Provided we consult the Idea of intelligible Order, or consider the sensible Order, which appears in the Works of God, we shall easily discover that Occasional Causes, which determine the Efficacy of General Laws, and are of use in fixing them, must necessarily be related to the Design for which God has establish'd them.

For Example: Experience evidences, that God has not made, and Reason certifies that he ought not to make the Courses of the Planets the Occasional Causes of the Union of our Soul and Body. He ought not to will that our Arm should be mov'd in such or such a manner; or that our Soul should feel the Tooth-ake, when the Moon shall be in conjunction with the Sun, if so be this Conjunction acts not on the Body. God's Design being to unite our Soul to our Body, he cannot, in prosecuting that Design, give the Soul Sensations of Pain, save when there happen [Page] some Changes in the Body repugnant to it. Wherefore we are not to seek out of our Soul or Body the Occasional Causes of their Union.

V. Hence it follows, that God designing to form his Church by Jesus Christ, could not, according to that Design, seek the Occasional Causes, which serve to settle the General Laws of Grace, (by which the Spirit of Jesus, diffus'd through his Members, communicates Life and Holiness to them) except in Jesus Christ, and in the Creatures united to him by Reason. Thus the Rain of Grace is not deriv'd to our Hearts, by the diverse situations of the Stars, nor by the Collision of certain Bodies, nor even according to the different Courses of the animal Spirits, which give us Motion and Life. All that Bodies can do, is to excite in us Motions and Sensations purely Natural. For whatever arrives to the Soul, through the Body, is only for the Body.

VI. Yet, as Grace is not given to all that desire it, nor as soon as they desire it, and is granted to those who do not ask it; it thence follows, that even our Desires are not the Occasional Causes of Grace: For this sort of Causes have constantly and most readily their Effect; and without them the Effect is not produc'd. For Instance, the Collision of Bodies being the Occasional Cause of the Change which happens in their Motion; if two Bodies did not meet, their Motions would not alter; and if they alter'd, we may be assur'd they met. The general Laws which shed Grace upon our Hearts, find nothing therefore in our Wills to determine their Efficacy; as the general Laws which regulate the Rains are not founded on the Dispositions of the Places rain'd upon. For it indifferently rains upon all Places, on hollow and manur'd Grounds, even on the Sands, and the Sea it self.

VII. We are therefore reduc'd to confess, that as Jesus Christ alone can merit Grace for us, so it is he alone that can administer Occasions to the General Laws by which it is distributed to Men. For the Principle or Foundation of these General Laws, or that which determines their Efficacy, being necessarily either in us, or in Jesus Christ, since it is certain that it is not in us, it must needs be found in him.

VIII. Besides, when Man had sinn'd, did it behoove God to have any more regard to his Desires? Being we are all in a disorder'd State, we can no longer be an Occasion of God's shewing us Favour. But a Mediatour was needful, not only to give us Access towards God, but to be the Occasional Cause of the Favours we hope from him.

IX. Whereas God had a Design of making his Son the Head of his Church, it was requisite he should constitute him the Occasional or Natural Cause of the Grace which sanctifies it. For 'tis the Head which communicates Life and Motion to the Limbs; and with that Prospect God permitted Sin. For if Man had continued in Innocence; as his Will had been meritorious of Grace, and even of Glory; so the inviolable Laws of Order would have requir'd that God should have appointed in Man the Occasional Cause of his Perfection and his Happiness: In so much that Jesus Christ would not have been the Head of the Church; or, at most, had been but the Head of those Influences which all the Members might have easily dispens'd with.

X. If our Soul were in our Body before it was form'd, and if by her diverse Volitions all the Parts which compose it were rang'd and postur'd; with how many various Sensations and different Motions would she be touch'd, upon consideration of all the Effects which were to follow her Volitions: Especially if she were extremely desirous of forming the most vigorous and best made Body pobssile?

XI. Now Holy Scripture does not only say, that Jesus Christ is the Head of the Church; but also that he begets it, and fashions it, and gives it increase; that he suffers, merits,Eph. 1.22, 23.4.16. Col. 1.24.2.19. 1 Cor. 12.27. Acts 1.24, &c. acts and influences continually in it. The Zeal which Jesus Christ has for his Father's Glory, and the Love he bears to his Church, constantly suggest to him the Desire of making it the most ample, the most magnificent, and the perfectest that can be. Therefore, as the Soul of Jesus has not an infinite Capacity, and yet would endow his Church with infinite Beauties and Ornaments, we have all reason to believe, that there is in his holy Soul a continual Chain of Thoughts and Desires, with reference to the mystical Body which he constantly forms.

XII. Now they are these continual Desires of the Soul of Jesus that tend to sanctifie his Church, and render it worthy of his Father's Majesty, which God has establish'd the Occasional Causes of the Efficacy of the general Laws of Grace. For we are taught by Faith, that God hath given his Son an absolute Power over Men, in constituting him Head of his Church; which yet cannot be conceiv'd, unless the several Volitions of Jesus Christ are follow'd by their Effects. For 'tis manifest I should have no Power over my Arm, if it mov'd when I would not have it, and remain'd dead and motionless when I desir'd to move it.

XIII. This Sovereign Power Jesus Christ has merited over Men, as also that Quality of Head of the Church, by the Sacrifice he offer'd upon Earth, on full Possession of which Right he entred after his Resurrection. 'Tis now that he is High Priest of future Goods,Joh. 7.39. Heb. 7.25. Rom. 8.34. 1 Joh. 2.1. and that He by his diverse Desires prays indefatigably for Men to the Father. And since his Desires are Occasional Causes, his Prayers are always heard. His Father denies him nothing, as the Scripture assures us; and yet his Prayers and Desires are necessary to obtain: Because Occasional, Physical, Natural Causes (for these three Terms have here the same Signification) have no Power of themselves, and all the Creatures, even Jesus Christ, consider'd as Man, are in themselves but Weakness and Impotence.

XIV. Therefore the Soul of Jesus, having a Succession of various Thoughts, with reference to the diverse Dispositions whereof Souls in general are capable, has these Thoughts attended with certain Desires relating to the Sanctification of these Souls. Which Desires being Occasional [Page] Causes of Grace, ought to shed it on those Persons in particular, whose Dispositions resemble that which the Soul of Jesus Christ actually thinks on; and this Grace ought to be so much stronger, and more abundant, as his Desires are more strong and lasting.

XV. When a Person considers any Part of his Body that is not form'd as it ought to be, he naturally has certain Desires relating to it, and to the Use he would make of it in a sociable Life; which Desires are prosecuted with certain insensible Motions of the Animal Spirits, and tend to the posturing or proportioning it in a due manner. When the Body is quite form'd, and the Flesh is grown solid and consistent, these Motions cannot change the Contexture of the Parts, but only give them certain Dispositions, which we call Corporeal Habits. But when the Body is not completely form'd, and the Flesh is extremely soft and tender, these Motions which accompany the Desires of the Soul, not only give the Body particular Dispositions, but also change its Construction. Which is sufficiently manifest in Children unborn: For they are not only mov'd with the same Passions as their Mothers; but also receive on their Bodies the Marks of these Passions, from which their Mothers are always exempt.

Eph. 4.13.XVI. The Mystical Body of Jesus Christ is not yet grown into a Perfect Man, nor will be till the Accomplishment of Ages; but he continually is forming it. For he is the Head, which gives all the Members their increase by the Efficacy of his Influence, according to the proportion convenient for each, to the end it may be form'd and edified by Charity. Which are Truths we are taught by St. Paul. Ibid. 15, & 16. Now since Jesus Christ has no other Action than the diverse Motions of his Will, 'tis necessary that his Desires should be follow'd with the Influence of Grace, which only can form him in his Members, and give them that Beauty and Proportion which ought to be the Eternal Object of Divine Love.

XVII. The diverse Motions of the Soul of Jesus, being the Occasional Causes of Grace, we need not wonder if it be sometimes given to the greatest Sinners, or to Persons that make no use of it. For the Soul of Jesus desiring to raise a Temple of a vast Extent, and of infinite Beauty, may wish that Grace may be given to the greatest Sinners; and if in that Moment Jesus Christ thinks actually on the Covetous, for Instance, the Covetous shall receive Grace. Or Jesus Christ wanting, for the Construction of his Church, Minds of a certain Character, commonly not attainable, but by those who suffer certain Persecutions, whereof the Passions of Men are the natural Principle: In a word, Jesus Christ needing Minds of particular Dispositions, for the causing particular Effects, may in general apply to them; and by that Application infuse into them sanctifying Grace: As the Mind of a Projector thinks in general of square Stones, when these Stones are actually necessary to his Building.

XVIII. But the Soul of Jesus being not a general Cause, we have reason to think it has often particular Desires, in regard to particular Persons. When we intend to speak of God, we must not consult our selves, and make him act like us; but consider the Idea of a Being infinitely perfect, and make God act according to that Idea. But in speaking of the Action of the Soul of Jesus, we may look into our selves, and make him act like particular Causes. For Example: We have reason to believe that the Conversion of St. Paul was owing to the Efficacy of a particular Desire of Jesus Christ. And we are to look upon the Desires of the Soul of Jesus, which have a general respect to Minds of a certain Character, as particular Desires, though they comprehend many Persons, because these Desires change daily like those of particular Causes. But the general Laws by which God acts, are always the same, because the Wills of God ought to be firm and constant, by reason that his Wisdom is infinite.

XIX. The diverse Desires of the Soul of Jesus distributing Grace, we clearly conceive why it is not equally dispers'd to all Men, and why bestow'd on some more abundantly at one time than another. For his Soul not thinking on all Men at once, cannot at the same time have all the Desires whereof it is capable: So that he acts not on his Members in a particular manner, except by successive Influences; as the Soul moves not at once all the Muscles of our Body: For the Animal Spirits are unequally and successively distributed into our Members, according to the various Impressions of Objects, the diverse Motions of our Passions, and the several Desires we freely excite within us

XX. True it is, that all the Righteous constantly receive the Influence of their Head, which gives them Life; and that when they act by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, they merit and receive new Graces, though it be not necessary that the Soul of Jesus should have any particular Desires as the occasional Causes of them. For Order, which requires that every Desert should be rewarded, is not an arbitrary but a necessary Law, and independent from any occasional Cause. But though he who performs a meritorious Action may be rewarded for it, whilst the Soul of Jesus has no actual Desires relating to him, yet 'tis certain that he merited not this Grace but by the Dignity and Sanctity of the Spirit which Christ has communicated to him.Joh. 5.4, 5. For Men are not well-pleasing to God, nor able to do good, but in as much as they are united to his Son by Charity.

XXI. It must be farther acknowledg'd, that those who observe the Counsels of Jesus Christ out of an Esteem they have for them, and through the Fear of future Punishment, sollicite, as I may say, by their Obedience, the Charity of Christ to think on them, though they act from a Principle of Self-love. But their Actions are not the Occasional Causes either of Grace, since it does not infallibly follow them; or even of the Motions of the Soul of Jesus in their Favour, since these Motions never fail to communicate it. Thus only the Desires of Jesus Christ, as [Page] Occasional Causes, have infallibly their Effect; because God having constituted him Head of the Church, ought by him only to communicate his sanctifying Grace to his Elect.

XXII. Now we may consider in the Soul of Jesus Christ Desires of two sorts; viz. Actual, Transitory and Particular, that have but a short-liv'd Efficacy; and Stable and Permanent, which consist in a setled and constant Disposition of the Soul of Jesus Christ, with relation to certain Effects which tend to the Execution of his Design in general.

If our Soul by its various Motions communicated to our Body all that was necessary to its Formation and Growth, we might distinguish in her two kinds of Desire. For it would be by the actual and transitory Desires, that she would drive into the Muscles of the Body the Spirits which gave it a certain Disposition with reference to present Objects, or to the actual Thoughts of the Mind. But it would be by stable and permanent Desires, that she would give to the Heart and Lungs the natural Motions by which Respiration and the Circulation of the Blood were perform'd. By these Desires she would digest the Aliments; and distribute them to all the Parts that needed them, in as much as that sort of Action is at all times necessary to the Preservation of the Body.

XXIII. By the actual transitory and particular Desires of the Soul of Jesus, Grace is deriv'd to unprepar'd Persons in a manner somewhat singular and extraordinary. But 'tis by his permanent Desires that it is given regularly to those who receive the Sacraments with the necessary Dispositions. For the Grace we receive by the Sacraments is not given us precisely because of the Merit of our Action, though we receive them in Grace; but because of the Merits of Jesus Christ, which are freely applied to us in consequence of his permanent Desires. We receive in the Sacraments much more Grace than our Preparation deserves; and it suffices to our receiving some Influence from them, that we do not oppose and resist it. But 'tis abusing what is most Sacred in Religion to receive them unworthily.

XXIV. Amongst the actual and transitory Desires of the Soul of Jesus, there are certainly some more durable and frequent than others; and the Knowledge of these Desires is of greatest Consequence in Point of Morality. Doubtless he thinks oftner on those who observe his Counsels, than on other Men. His Motions of Charity for Believers are more frequent and lasting than those for Libertines and Atheists. And as all Believers are not equally prepar'd to enter into the Church of the Predestinate, the Desires of the Soul of Jesus are not equally lively, frequent, and durable, on the account of them all.

Man more earnestly desires the Fruits that are fittest for the Nourishment of his Body; he [...] oftner on Bread and Wine than on Meats of difficult Digestion. So Jesus Christ designing the Formation of his Church, ought to be more taken up with those who can most easily enter, than on others which are extremely remote.

The Scripture likewise teaches us, that the Humble, the Poor, the Penitent, receive greater Graces than other Men; because the Despisers of Honours, Riches, and Pleasures, are the fittest for the Kingdom of Heaven.

Those, for Example, who have learn'd of Jesus Christ to be meek and humble in Heart, shall find Rest to their Souls. The Yoke of Christ, which is insupportable to the Proud, will become easie and light by the Assistances of Grace. For God hears the Prayers of the Humble, he will comfort them, justfie them, and save them; he will fill them with Blessings, and will debase the high Mind of the Proud. Blessed are the Poor in Spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven; but woe to the Rich, [...]or they have their Consolation in this World. How hard is it, says our Saviour, for those that have much Wealth to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven? 'Tis harder for a Camel to pass through the Eye of a Needle; which cannot be done without a Miracle.

As for those, who, like David, humble their Souls with Fasting, change their Garments for Sack-cloth; in a word, afflict themselves upon sight of their Sins, and the Holiness of God; they are the worthy Objects of the Compassion of Jesus. For God despises not a broken and contrite Heart. We constantly disarm the Anger of God, when we take his Part against our selves, and revenge his Quarrel.

The Will of Jesus Christ being entirely conformable to Order, whereof all Men have naturally some Idea, we might still discover by Reason, that he has more Thoughts and Desires in regard to some Persons than others. For Order requires that more Graces should be shed on those, for Example, who are call'd to Holy Orders, than on others whose Employment necessarily engages them in Worldly Commerce; in a word, On those who constitute the Principal Parts of the Church Militant, than on such as have no regard to any body, or that meddle in the Ecclesiastical State, or raise themselves above others out of Ambition or Interest. For though it be requisite that Jesus Christ should give them Graces in relation to their Charge, they merit not the Gift of that Grace which may sanctifie them in the Station they have chosen out of Self-love. They may have the Gift of Prophecy, whilst they may want Charity, as we are taught by Scripture.2 Cor. 13.2▪

XXVI. But though we may discover by the Light of Reason, and the Authority of Holy Writ, something of the diverse Wills of the Soul of Jesus, yet that Order and Process of Desires, which accomplish the Predestination of the Saints, and which tend only to the honouring God in the Establishment of his Church, is an unfathomable Abyss to the Mind of Man. For if St. Paul had not taught us, that God would that all Men should be included in Unbelief, that he might exercise his Mercy towards them; should we ever have thought that the Jews were to fall into a wilful Blindness, not only that the multitude of the Nations might enter into the Church, but [Page] that they themselves might receive Mercy at the Accomplishment of Ages? The future World being to be a Work of pure Mercy, and to have infinite Ornaments, whereof we have no Idea; since the Substance of Spirits is unknown to us, it is plain we can discover very little in the different Desires of the Soul of Jesus, these Desires being related to Designs we are ignorant of. Thus in the Distribution God makes of his Graces, we ought to cry out with St. Paul, O the depth of the Riches both of the Wisdom and Knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his Judgments, and his Ways past finding out!

XXVII. We have prov'd that the diverse Designs of the Soul of Jesus are the Occasional Causes of Grace; and we have endeavour'd to discover something of these Desires. Let us now see of what sort of Grace they are the Occasional Causes. For though Jesus Christ be the meritorious Cause of all Graces, it is not necessary he should be the Occasional Cause of the Graces of Light, and of certain external Graces, which are Preparatory to the Conversion of the Heart, and which do not opperate. For Jesus Christ is always the Occasional, or Necessary Cause, according to the Establish'd Order of God, in point of all those Graces which opperate Salvation.

XXVIII. In order to our distinct understanding what this Grace is which Jesus Christ, as Head of the Church, diffuses in his Members, we ought to know what is that Concupiscence which the First Man has communicated to all his Posterity. For the Second Adam came to remedy the Disorders which the First Adam was the Cause of. And there is such an Affinity between the Sinful and Earthly,Rom. 5.14.17, 18, 19. 1 Cor. 15.48. and the Innocent and Heavenly Adam, that St. Paul looks upon the former communicating Sin to his Children by his Disobedience, as the Type and Figure of the latter infusing Justice and Holiness into Christians by his Obedience.

XXIX. Order requires that the Mind should have the Supremacy over the Body, and not be divided against its Will by all those Sensations and Motions which apply it to sensible Objects. Therefore the First Man, before his Sin, was so absolute over his Senses and Passions, that they were mute and silent as soon as he desir'd it; nothing could give him an involuntary Diversion from his Duty; and all the Pleasures, which at present precede Reason, did only respectfully caution him, in a ready and easie manner, of what ought to be done for the Preservation of his Life. But after his Sin, he lost on a sudden that Power over his Body. So that not being able to stop the Motions, nor obliterate the Traces which sensible Objects produc'd in the principal Part of his Brai [...]; his Soul, by the Order of Nature, and in Punishment of his Disobedience, found her self miserably enslav'd to the Law of Concupiscence; to that Carnal Law which constantly wars against the Mind, inspiring it with the Love of sensible Goods; and so ruling it by strong and lively, and at once soft and agreeable Passions, that it cannot, and indeed will not make the necessary Struggles for its breaking the captivating Bonds. For the Contagion of Sin is spread through the Children of Adam by an unavoidable Consequence of the Order of Nature, as I have explain'd in another place.

XXX. The Heart of Man is the constant Slave of Pleasure; and when Reason teaches us, that 'tis not convenient to enjoy it, we put it off but with Design of finding it more delicate and solid. We willingly sacrifice little Pleasures to the greater; but the invincible Impression we are under for Happiness, will not permit us to deny our selves all our Life the Satisfaction we enjoy, when we give our selves up to follow our Passions.

XXXI. 'Tis certain that Pleasure makes happy the Possessour, at least whilst he enjoys it. Therefore Men being made to be Happy, Pleasure always gives the Will the first shock, and puts it constantly in Motion towards the Good that causes or seems to cause it. The contrary is to be said of Pain. Now Concupiscence consisting only in a continual train of Sensations and Motions antecedent to Reason, and not subject to it; of Pleasures which seeming to flow from surrounding Objects, inspire into us the Love of them; and of Pains, which rendring the Exercise of Vertue rough and painful, make us hate it: The Second Adam, to remedy the Disorders of the First, ought to produce in us contrary Pleasures and Aversions to those of Concupiscence: Pleasures for the True, and Aversions or Dislikes for sensible Goods. Thus the Grace, whereof Jesus Christ is the Occasional Cause, and which he incessantly sheds on us as Head of the Church, is not a Grace of Light, though he has merited that Grace likewise for us; and sometimes may communicate it, as I shall say by and by: But 'tis a Grace of Sensation, 'tis the preventing Delectation, which begets and nurses Charity in our Hearts. For Pleasure naturally produces and cherishes the Love of those Objects which cause or seem to cause it. 'Tis likewise the Disgust which sometimes sensible Objects give us, which create an Aversion to them, and capacitate us to guide the Motions of our Love by Light or Knowledge.

XXXII. We must oppose the Grace of Sensation to Concupiscence, Pleasure to Pleasure, Dislike to Dislike, that the Influence of Jesus Christ may be directly opposite to the Influence of the First Man. The Remedy must be contrary to the Disease, that it may cure it. For illuminating Grace cannot heat an Heart that is wounded by Pleasure; this Pleasure must cease, or another succeed it. Pleasure is the Weight of the Soul, and naturally bears it along with it, and sensible Pleasures weigh it down to Earth. In order to her determining her self, these Pleasures must vanish, or delectable Grace must raise her up towards Heaven, and instate her well-nigh in Equilibrio. Thus it is the New Man may war against the Old; the Influence of our Head may resist that of our Progenitor, and Jesus Christ may conquer in us all our Domestick Enemies.

The First Man being free from Concupiscence before his Sin, needed not to be invited to the Love of the True Good, by preventing Delectation. He knew clearly that God was his Good; and there was no Necessity he should have the Sense of it. 'Twas not fit he should be allur'd by Pleasure [Page] to the Love of him, since nothing withstood this Love, and he knew him perfectly deserving it. But after the Sin, the Grace of Delectation was necessary to counterpoize the continual Struggle of Concupiscence, Therefore Light is the Grace of the Creator, Delectation is that of the Restorer. Light is communicated by Jesus Christ as Eternal Wisdom; Delectation is given by him, as Wisdom Incarnate. Light, in its Original, was mere Nature. Delectation has ever been Pure Grace. Light, after the Sin, was granted us only for the Merits of Jesus Christ. Delectation is granted both for the Merits, and by the Efficacy of the same Jesus. Lastly, Light is shed into our Souls, according to our own several Volitions and various Applications, as I shall explain by and by: But the Delectation of Grace is infus'd into our Hearts, according to the diverse Desires of the Soul of Jesus Christ.

XXXIII. 'Tis true, Pleasure produces Light, because the Soul is more attentive to Objects that give her Pleasure. Since most Men despise or neglect the Truths of Religion; because abstract or unaffecting, it may be said that the Delectation of Grace instructs them: For that rendring these Truths more sensible, they more easily learn them by the Attention they afford. And for this Reason St. John says, That the Unction we receive from Jesus Christ teaches all things; and that those who have receiv'd it, have need of no Instructor.1 John 2.27.

XXXIV. Yet it must be observ'd, That this Unction does not produce Light immediately, and by its self; it only excites our Attention, which is the Natural or Occasional Cause of our Knowledge. So we see that Men of the greatest Charity are not always the most Understanding. All Men being not equally capable of Attention, all the Receivers of the same Unction are not equally instructed by it. Therefore, though Light may be shed on the Soul by a supernatural Infusion, and Charity often produces it; yet we are always to look upon this kind of Grace but as a Natural Effect: For ordinarily Charity produces not Light in the Mind, save in proportion to the Inducement it gives the Soul to desire the Knowledge of what she loves. For, in fine, the diverse Desires of the Soul are the Natural or Occasional Causes of the Discoveries we make on any Subject whatsoever. But these things we must explain more at large in the Second Part of this Discourse.

PART II. Of the Grace of the CREATOR.

XXXV. I Know but two Principles that directly and of themselves determine the Motion of our Love: Light and Pleasure. Light, to discover our several Goods; and Pleasure, to make us tast them. But there is a great difference betwixt Light and Pleasure; the former leaves us absolutely to our selves, and makes no Intrenchment on our Liberty. It does not efficaciously carry us to Love, nor produce in us Natural or Necessary Love; but only induces us to carry our selves to the loving, with a Love of choice, the Objects it discovers; or, which is the same thing, only causes us to determine to particular Goods the general Impression of Love, God constantly gives us for the General. But Pleasure effectually determines our Will, and as it were conveys us to the Object which causes or seems to cause it. It produces in us a Natural and Necessary Love; weakens our Liberty, divides our Reason, and leaves us not perfectly to our own Conduct. An indifferent Attention to the Sense we have of our internal Motions, will convince us of these Differences.

Thus Man, before the Sin, being perfectly free, and having no Concupiscence to hinder him from prosecuting his Light in the Motions of his Love, and knowing clearly that God was infinitely amiable, ought not to be determin'd by preventing Delight, as I have already said, or by any other Graces of Sensation, which might have lessen'd his Merit, and induc'd him to love by Instinct the Good which should only be lov'd by Reason. But after he had sinned, he, besides the Grace of Light, had need of that of Sensation to resist the Motions of Concupiscence. For Man, having an invincible Desire for Happiness, cannot possibly sacrifice his Pleasure to his Light; his Pleasure which makes him actually Happy, and subsists in him in spight of his Resistance to his Light; which subsists but by a painful Application of Thought, and dies at the presence of the least actual Pleasure; and lastly, which promises no solid Happiness, till after Death, which to the Imagination seems a perfect Annihilation.

Light therefore is due to Man, to conduct him in the quest of Happiness, and belongs to Natural Order, and supposes neither Corruption nor Reparation in Nature. But Pleasure, which relates to the true Good, is pure Grace. For naturally the true Good ought not to be belov'd otherwise than by Reason. Therefore the Occasional Causes of the Graces of Sensation, ought to be found in Jesus Christ, because he is the Author of this Grace. But the Occasional Causes of Light ought to be ordinarily found in the Order of Nature, because Light is the Grace of the Creator.

XXXVI. In the establish'd Order of Nature I can see but two Occasional Causes which shed Light on Minds, and so determine the General Laws of the Grace of the Creator; one which is in us, and depends in some measure on us; the other which is found in the Relation we have with surrounding Objects. The former is nothing but the diverse Motions of our Will; the second is the Occurrence of sensible Objects which act on our Mind, in consequence of the Laws of Union of our Soul with our Body.

[Page]XXXVII. We are taught by our own inward Consciousness, That the Love of Light produces it; and that Attention of Mind is a Natural Prayer, by which we obtain Instruction of God; for all the Enquirers of Truth, who apply themselves to Truth, discover it in proportion to their Application. And if our Prayer were not interrupted, nor our Attention disturb'd, if we had any Idea of what we ask, and should ask it with a competent Perseverance, we should not fail to obtain, whilst we were capable of receiving it. But our Prayers are continually interrupted, unless Self-interess'd; our Senses and Imagination muddy, and confound all our Ideas. And [...]hough the Truth we consult answers our Enquiries, the confus'd Noise of our Passions deafens us to its Answers, or makes us speedily forget them.

XXXVIII. If it be consider'd, that Man, before the Fall, was animated with Charity, and possess'd with all that was requisite to his Perseverance in Innocence; and that by his Perseverance and Application, he ought to merit his Reward, 'twill easily be conceiv'd that the several Desires of his Will were establish'd the Occasional Causes of the Light receiv'd in his Understanding; otherwise his Distraction had not been voluntary, nor his Attention meritorious. But Nature, however corrupted, is not destroy'd: God has not desisted to will what he once will'd. And the same Laws still subsist. Therefore our manifold Volitions are still the Occasional or Natural Causes of the Presence of Ideas to our Mind. But because the Union of the Soul with the Body is chang'd into a Dependence on it by a Natural Consequence of Sin, and the immutable Will of God, as I have explain'd elsewhere; our Body at present disturbs our Ideas, and speaks so loud in favour of its respective Goods, that the Mind but seldom consults, and distractedly listens to Internal Truth.

XXXIX. Moreover, Experience daily teaches us that our Conversation with Understanding Persons, is capable of instructing us by raising our Attention; that Preaching, Reading, Converse, a thousand Occurrences of all sorts, may raise some Ideas in us, and likewise inspire us with good Thoughts. The Death of a Friend is, doubtless, capable of putting us in Mind of Death; unless some great Passion takes us up. And when a Preacher of great Natural Endowments undertakes to demonstrate a most simple Truth, and convince others of it; it must be own'd that he may persuade his Hearers, and even move their Conscience, give them Fear and Hope, and raise in them such other Passions as put them in a less State of Opposition to the Influence of the Grace of Jesus Christ.

Men being made for a sociable Life, 'twas requisite they should mutually communicate their Thoughts and Motions. 'Twas fit they should be united in Mind as well as Body; and that speaking by the Voice to their Ears, and by Writing to their Eyes, they should infuse Light and Understanding into one anothers Minds.

XL. But Light, whatever way produc'd in us, whether by particular Desires, or fortuitous Instances, as the Occasional Causes of it, may be call'd Grace; especially when it nearly relates to Salvation; though it be but a Consequence of the Order of Nature; because since Sin, God owes us nothing, and all the Good we have is merited for us by Jesus Christ, in whom our very Being subsists. But this kind of Grace, though merited for us by Jesus Christ, is not the Grace of our Lord, but that of the Creator; since Jesus Christ is not usually the Occasional Cause of it, but the Cause of it is discoverable in the Order of Nature.

XLI. There are still several other Natural Effects which we might reasonably look upon as Graces. For Example: Two Persons have at the same time two Desires of Curiosity. The one to go see an Opera, the other to hear a celebrated Preacher. If they satisfie their Curiosity, he that goes to the Opera shall find such Objects, as, according to his present Disposition of Mind, shall raise in him Passions that will damn him; whilst the other shall find in the Preacher so great Force and Light, that the Grace of Conversion working in him at that moment, shall be able to save him. Which suppos'd, Let but a shower of Rain, or any other Accident happen, that may stay them at home. Though the Rain be a Natural Effect, as depending on the Natural Laws of the Communication of Motions; yet it may be said to be a Grace, in respect of him whose Damnation it prevents, and a Punishment to him whose Conversion it hinders.

XLII. Grace being conjoin'd to Nature, all the Motions of our Soul and Body have some relation to Salvation. This Man is sav'd, by having in a State of Grace made a false Step, which happily broke his Neck; and another is damn'd, by having on some Occasion misfortunately avoided the Ruines of a falling House. We know not what is for our Advantage, but we well know there is nothing of it self so indifferent but has some reference to our Salvation, because of the Mixture and Combination of Effects depending on the General Laws of Nature, with others that depend on the General Laws of Grace.

XLIII. As therefore Light points out to us the True Good, the Means to obtain it, our Duties to God; in a word, the Ways we are to follow; it is sufficient to cause those who are animated with Charity, to do good, to merit new Graces, and to conquer some Temptations, as I shall explain in another Place; so I think we may lawfully give it the Name of Grace, though Jesus Christ be only the Meritorious Cause of it. And whereas External Graces, which have no immediate Influence on the Mind, come nevertheless into the Order of Predestination of Saints, I consider them also as True Graces. In a word, I see not why we may not give the Name of Grace to all Natural Effects, when relating to Salvation, subservient to the Grace of Jesus Christ, and delivering us from some Hindrances to his Efficacy. Yet if others will not agree with me, I shall not contend with them about Words.

XLIV. All these Graces, if we may be allow'd to call them so, being those of the Creator, the General Laws of these Graces are the General Laws of Nature. For we must still observe, that Sin [Page] has not destroy'd Nature, though it has corrupted it. The General Laws of the Communications of Motions are always the same; and those of the Union of the Soul and Body are chang'd no otherwise than that the Union of the former is grown into a Dependence, for the Reasons I have given elsewhere. For at present we depend on that Body, to which, before Sin, we were only united.

XLV. Now the Laws of Nature are always most Simple and General: For God acts not by particular Wills, unless Order requires a Miracle. Which Truth I have sufficiently prov'd in the First Discourse. Thus when a Stone falls on the Head of a good Man, and rids him of his Life, it falls in consequence of the Laws of Motions; and not because that Man is Just, and God designs to recompense him. When a like Accident destroys a Sinner, 'tis not because God will actually punish him: For God, on the contrary, would have all Men sav'd. But he is not to change the Simplicity of his Laws, to suspend the Punishment of a Criminal. So likewise, when Light breaks into our Understanding, 'tis because our Desires are the Natural or Occasional Causes of it; 'tis because we hear some understanding Person, and because our Brain is dispos'd to receive the Impressions of the Speaker: And not that God has a particular Will on our behalf, but that he follows the General Laws of Nature, to which he has oblig'd himself. I can see nothing Mysterious in the Distribution of these kinds of Graces, and I stand not to draw Consequences deducible from these Truths.

XLVI. 'Tis to be observ'd, that Jesus Christ, who is the sole Meritorious Cause of the Goods we receive from God, by the Order of Nature, is sometimes the Occasional Cause of the Grace of Light as well as of that of Sensation; yet I am of Opinion, that this but rarely happens; because indeed it is not necessary it should. Jesus Christ, as much as possible, makes the Order of Nature subservient to that of Grace. For besides that, Reason evinces that Order will have it so; because that Method is most simple, it is sufficiently manifest by the Conduct he takes on Earth, and the Order he has establish'd, and still preserves in his Church. Jesus Christ made use of Speech for the Instruction of the World, and likewise sent his Disciples, two by two,Luk. 10. Eph. 11.12. to prepare the People to receive him. He has settled Apostles, Prophets, Evangelists, Doctors, Bishops, and Priests, to labour in the Edification of the Church. Is not this to make Nature Handmaid to Grace; and to propagate the Light of Faith in Mens Minds by ways most Simple and Natural; And indeed Jesus Christ on Earth was not to instruct Men by particular Wills, since he might instruct them as Interiour Truth and Eternal Wisdom, by the most simple and exuberant Laws of Nature.

XLVII. That which lies most hidden and unreveal'd in the Order God has follow'd for the Establishment of his Church, is, doubtless, the Time, Place, and other Circumstances of the Incarnation of his Son, and the Preaching of the Gospel. For why should Jesus Christ, for whom the World was created, become Man Four thousand Years after its Creation? Why must he be born among the Jews, he that was to reject that wretched Nation? Why must he choose to be the Son of David, when the Family of David was obscur'd; and not rather to be born from Emperours, who have commanded the whole World, since he came to Convert and Enlighten all the Earth? Why to elect his Apostles and Disciples out of the Ignorant and Illeterate, to preach to the Inhabitants of Bethsaida and Corazin, who remain in Incredulity; and to leave Tyre and Sidon, who would have been converted by the like Grace afforded them; to hinder St. Paul from preaching the Word of God in Asia, and to appoint him to pass into Macedonia? A thousand other Circumstances, which have accompanied the Preaching of the Gospel, are, no doubt, such Mysteries as admit not clear and evident Reasons; nor is it my Design to give them. My Purpose is only to establish some Principles that may afford some Light to these and the like Difficulties; or at least, give us to understand that nothing can be thence concluded against what I have said of the Order of Nature and Grace.

XLVIII. 'Tis certain that Natural Effects are complicated and mix'd a thousand ways with the Effects of Grace; and that the Order of Nature strengthens or weakens the Efficacy or Effects of the Orders of Grace, according as these two Orders variously combine together. Death, which by the General Laws of Nature, at a particular Juncture befals a good or ill Prince, or Bishop, occasions a great deal of Good or Evil in the Church; because such kind of Accidents cause a great Diversity in the Sequel of Effects, which depend on the Order of Grace. But God would have all Men sav'd by the simplest ways. Therefore we may and ought to say in general, That He has chosen the Time, the Place and Manners, which in the process of Time, and by the General Laws of Nature and Grace, must, all things consider'd, introduce a greater Number of the Predestinate into the Church. God does all things for his Glory: Therefore, among all the possible Combination of Nature and Grace, he has from the infinite Extent of his Knowledge made choice of that which could form the perfectest Church, and most suitable to his Majesty and Wisdom.

XLIX. This, one would think, were sufficient to answer all the Difficulties that can arise about the Circumstances of our Mysteries: For if it be said, that Jesus Christ ought to be born to a Roman Emperour, and to perform his Miracles in the Metropolis of the World, that the Gospel might spread it self with greater Ease into the remotest Countries: It may be boldly answer'd, That though this seems so to Men, yet that Combination of Nature and Grace had not been so worthy of the Wisdom of God as that which he has chosen. I confess Religion had been propagated with greater ease; but its Establishment had not been so Divine and Extraordinary, nor consequently an invincible Proof of its Reality and Truth. So [...]hat, according to that Combination, Religion would at this Day have been destroy'd, at least less disseminated abroad in the World. [Page] Besides, when we say that God acts by the simplest ways, we ever suppose an Equality in the rest, and especially in the Glory that ought to redound to God from his Work. But the Church had not been so perfect, nor so worthy of the Greatness and Holiness of God, if it had been form'd with so much ease. For the Beauty of the Heavenly Jerusalem consisting in the Variety of Rewards accruing upon the several Combats of Christians, 'twas requisite the Martyrs should lay down their Lives as well as Jesus Christ, to enter into the Possession of their present Glory. In a word, this Principle, That of all the infinite Combinations of Nature and Grace, God has chosen that which ought to produce an Effect most worthy of his Greatness and Wisdom, suffices for a General Answer to all the Difficulties that can be started about the Circumstances of our Mysteries; like as, to vindicate the Orders of Nature and Grace in themselves, we need but know, That God, being infinitely wi [...]e, frames no Design but upon the admirable Proportion of Wisdom and Fecundity, discover'd in the ways capable to bring it to pass, as I have explain'd in the First Discourse.

L. Most Men judging of God by measure of themselves, imagines that he first forms a Design, and afterwards consults his Wisdom about Ways to execute it. For our Volitions generally prevent our Reason, and our Designs are hardly ever perfectly Rational. But God's Ways are not like those of Men, who acts in the following manner, if I have well consulted the Idea of a Being infinitely perfect. God, by the infinite Light of his Wisdom, knows all possible Works, and at once all the respective Ways of producing them. He sees all the Proportions between Means and their End. He compares all things by one Eternal, Immutable and Necessary View; and by the Comparison he makes of the Proportions of Wisdom and Fecundity, which he discovers between the Designs and Ways of executing them, he freely forms a Design. But the Design being form'd, he necessarily chooses the general Ways most worthy of his Wisdom, Greatness and Goodness. For since he forms no Design, but through the Knowledge of the Means of executing it, the Choice of the Design includes the Choice of Means.

LI. When I say, That God forms his Design freely, I would not be thought to mean that he may make choice of another less worthy, and reject that which is more worthy of his Wisdom. For supposing that God wills the Production of an external Work worthy of him, he is not indifferent in the Choice, but must produce the perfectest possible, with reference to the Simplicity of the Ways he acts by. This God owes to himself, from following the Rules of his Wisdom, and he must always act in the wisest and perfectest manner. But I say, that God forms his Design freely; because he does not invincibly and necessarily love any thing besides his own Substance. Neither the Incarnation of the Word, nor for a much stronger Reason, the Creation of the World, are necessary Emanations of his Nature. God is fully Self-sufficient: For the Being infinitely perfect may be conceiv'd alone, and without necessary Relation to any of his Creatures.

LII. As God necessarily loves himself, he necessarily follows the Rules of his Wisdom. But whereas his Creatures constitute no part of his Being, he is so full and sufficient in himself, that nothing obliges him to produce them; and he is absolutely indifferent or free on their Account. And therefore it is that he has made the World in Time: For that Circumstance sufficiently shews that the Creatures are not necessary Emanations of the Divinity, but essentially depending on the Free Will of the Creator.

LIII. Lo! however an Objection that offers it self immediately to the Mind. If it were true, that God necessarily follow'd the Rules of his Wisdom, the World would not have been created in Time: For either the World is worthy or unworthy of God. If it were better that the World should not be produc'd from Nothing, it ought to be Eternal; if on the contrary, that it should remain in Nothingness, it ought not to be created. Therefore God is not oblig'd to stick to Rules which his Wisdom prescribes, since the World was created in Time.

But this Objection is easily answer'd. 'Tis better for the World to be, than not to be; but it had better not be at all than be Eternal. The Creature ought to carry the Essential Character of Dependency. If Spirits were Eternal, they might have some reason to consider themselves as Gods, or necessary Beings; or at least, as capable of contributing to the Greatness or Felicity of God; whilst imagining he could not forego producing them. They might in a manner compare themselves with the Persons in the Deity, while believing themselves produc'd like them by a necessary Emanation. Thus God ought by the Rules of his Wisdom to leave Creatures the Mark of their Dependence; and yet give them Assurance that he made them not to annihilate them; and that being constant in his Purposes, by reason of his unlimited Wisdom, they shall eternally subsist.

LIV. This Difficulty may still be driven farther in this manner. God necessarily follows the Rules of his Wisdom, and necessarily does what is best. But it was at least better for the World to be created in Time, than not to be at all. And certainly it was fit, by the Rules of the Wisdom of God, that the World should be produc'd in the Circumstances in which he produc'd it. Therefore the Creation of the World in Time is absolutely necessary, God was not at Liberty on its account, nor capable of hindring its temporary Production.

For the Resolution of this Difficulty, it must be observ'd, That though God follows the Rules prescrib'd by his Wisdom, yet he does not necessarily what is best; because, being Master of his Action, he may choose to do any thing. To act, and not to follow the Rules of his Wisdom, is a Fault: Therefore, on supposition that God acts, he necessarily acts in the wisest manner conceivable. But his Liberty in the Production of the World, is a Sign of his Abundance, Fulness, and Self-sufficiency. 'Tis better for the World to be, than not to be; the Incarnation of Jesus [Page]Christ renders the Work of God worthy of its Author, I acknowledge: But whereas God is essentially happy and perfect, and as nothing is good on his Consideration, but himself, or the Cause of his Perfection and his Happiness, he loves nothing invincibly besides his own Substance; and whatever is exteriour to him, ought to be produc'd by an Action really eternal and immutable, but that derives its Necessity from Supposition of the Divine Decrees.

LV. I offer another Principle, which I have already mention'd, which may afford some Light to the Difficulties that may arise about the Incarnation of Jesus Christ, and the Creation of the World. Reason and Authority of Holy Writ teach us, that the First and Principal of the Designs of God, is the Constitution of his Church in Jesus Christ. The present World is not created to remain as it is: The Falshood and Errour, the Injustice and Disorder, that are seen in it, give us sufficiently to understand it ought to have an end. The future World, which Truth and Justice shall inhabit, is the Earth which God has settled on inviolable Foundations; and which being the Object of Divine Love, shall eternally subsist. God has not created this Visible World with other Design than to raise by degrees that invisible City, whereof St. John speaks so many Wonders; and as Jesus Christ shall be the principal Beauty of it, he was always had in View by God in the Production of his Work. He has made all for Man, and with reference to him, as the Scripture teaches: But he for whom, according to St. Paul, God has made all things,Heb. 2. is the Man Jesus Christ. 'Tis to teach Men that they are created, and that they subsist in Jesus Christ; 'tis to unite them straitly to him; 'tis to induce them to make themselves like him, that God has figur'd Jesus Christ and his Church, in the principal of his Creatures. For 'tis necessary that Jesus Christ should be found in the whole Work of God, that it might be the worthy Object of his Love, and of the Action that produc'd it.

LVI. If we consider the manner of the First Man's Creation, as related by Holy Scripture, how his Wife was form'd out of his Flesh and Bone; his Love to her, and the Circumstances of their Sin, we shall doubtless judge that God thought on the Second Adam in the Formation of the First; that he consider'd the Father of the future World, in creating the Father of the present; and that he design'd the First Man and Woman for express Types of Jesus Christ and his Church. 1 Cor. 12.27. Eph. 5.30▪ &c. St. Paul permits us not to doubt of this Truth, when he assures us we are form'd of the Flesh and Bone of Jesus Christ, that we are his Members; and that the Marriage of Adam and Eve is the Figure of Jesus Christ and his Church.

LVII. God might perhaps form Men and Animals by ways as simple as common Generation. But since this way typified Jesus Christ and his Church, since it wore the Impress of the principal of God's Designs, and represented, as I may say, the well-belov'd Son to his Father, that Son in whom alone the whole Work of the Creation subsists, God ought to prefer it before all other; thereby likewise to teach us, that as intelligible Beauties consist in their Relation to Eternal Wisdom, so sensible Beauties must, though in a manner little known to us, relate to Incarnate Truth.

LVIII. Doubtless there are many Analogies and Agreements betwixt the most principal of the Creatures, and Jesus Christ, who is their Pattern and their End. For all is full of Jesus Christ; every thing represents and typifies him, as much as the Simplicity of the Laws of Nature will permit. But I shall not venture to enter on the Particulars of this Subject. For besides that I am fearful of mistaking, and have not a competent Knowledge either of Nature or Grace, of the present World, or the future, to discover their Relations; I know that the Imagination of Men is so sarcastical and nice, that we cannot by Reason lead them to God, much less to Jesus Christ, without tiring their Patience, or provoking their Railery. Most Christians are accustom'd to a Philosophy that had rather have recourse to Fictions, as extravagant as those of the Poets, than to God; and some of them are so little acquainted with Jesus Christ, that a Man would perhaps be reckon'd a Visionist, if he said the same things with St. Paul, without using his Words. For 'tis rather that great Name which persuades them than the View of Truth. The Authority of Scripture keeps them from blaspheming what they do not understand; but whereas they are but little conversant with it, it cannot much enlighten them.

LIX. 'Tis certain that the Jewish People was the Figure of the Church, and that the most Holy and Remarkable Persons among the Kings, Prophets, and Patriarchs of that Nation, were the Types of the Messiah, our Saviour Jesus Christ; which is a Truth not deniable, without undermining the Foundations of the Christian Religion, and making the most Learned of the Apostles pass for the most Ignorant of Men. Jesus Christ being not yet come, ought at least to be typified. For he ought to be expected, he ought to be desired, and by his Types he ought to strew some sort of Beauty over the Universe, to make it acceptable to his Father. Thus it was necessary he should in some manner be as ancient as the World, and that he should die presently after the Sin in the Person of Abel. The Lamb that was slain from the Foundation of the World: The Beginning and End: Alpha and Omega: Yesterday and to Day: He is, was, and is to come. These are the Qualifications St. John attributes to the Saviour of Men.

LX. But supposing that Jesus Christ ought to be typified, 'twas necessary it should be done by his Ancestors especially; and that their History, dictated by the Holy Spirit, should be handed down to future Ages, to the end we might still compare Jesus Christ with his Figures, and acknowledge him for the true Messiah. Of all Nations God loving that most which had nearest Relation to his Son, ought to make the Jews the Fathers of Jesus Christ, according to the Flesh, since they had been the most lively and express Figures of his Son.

LXI. But, if driving this Difficulty up higher, the Reason be demanded of the Choice God made of the Jews to be the principal Figures of Jesus Christ, I think I may and ought affirm, [Page] that God acting always by the simplest ways, and discovering in the infinite Treasures of his Wisdom all the Combinations of Nature with Grace, chose that which was to make the Church the most ample, most perfect, and most worthy of his own Greatness and Holiness, as I have said before. Secondly, I think I ought to answer, that God foreseeing that what was to happen to the Jewish People by a necessary Consequence of Natural Laws, would have more Analogy to his Design of typifying Jesus Christ and his Church, than all that could befall other Nations, thought fit to choose that People rather than any other. For, in brief, Predestination to the Law is not like Predestination to Grace; and though there be nothing in Nature that can oblige God to shed his Grace equally on a whole People, yet methinks Nature may merit the Law in the Sense I here understand it.

LXII. 'Tis true, that all that befell the Jews, who represented Jesus Christ, was not a necessary Consequence of the Order of Nature: There was need of Miracles to make the Jews lively, and express Figures of the Church. But Nature at least furnish'd Ground-work, and Materials, and possibly the principal Strokes in most Instances, and Miracles finish'd the rest. Whereas no other Nation would have been so proper for so just and accomplish'd a Design.

LXIII. If I mistake not, we are oblig'd to think that God, having a Wisdom prescious of all the Events and Consequences of all possible Orders, and all their Combinations, never works Miracles when Nature is sufficient; and that therefore he must choose that Combination of Natural Effects, which, as it were, remitting him the Expence of Miracles, nevertheless most faithfully executes his Designs.

For Example: 'Tis necessary that all Sin should be punish'd. But that's not always done in this World. Yet supposing it was requisite for the Glory of Jesus Christ, and the Establishment of Religion, that the Jews should be punish'd in the Face of the whole World, for the Crime they had committed in murthering our Saviour; it was fit that Jesus Christ should come into the World, about the Reign of Herod; supposing that People, by the necessary Consequence of the Order of Nature, was to be divided about that time; that Civil Wars and perpetual Seditions were to weaken them; and that, lastly, the Romans were to ruine and disperse them, with the total Destruction of their City and Temple. 'Tis true, there seems to be something extraordinary in the Desolation of the Jews: But as it shews greater Wisdom in God, to produce so surprizing Effects, by the most simple and general Laws of Nature, than by particular Wills, which are always Miracles; I question whether on that Occasion we are to fly unto a Miracle. But, for my part, I dispute it not here; since 'tis a Fact that we cannot easily nor need we explain our selves upon: And I produce this Instance only to make some Application of my Principles, and to make them more easily intelligible to others.

I have, I think, said enough of Nature and Grace, to satisfie all equitable and moderate Persons about an infinite Number of Difficulties, which disturb only their Minds who must needs judge of God by themselves. For if Men would consult the Idea of an Infinitely Perfect Being, of a General Cause, of an Infinite Wisdom; and if they would consent to the Principles I have establish'd conformable to that Idea, I believe they would neither be surpriz'd nor offended at the Conduct of GOD, and that they would change their Murmurs and Censures into Wonder and Adoration.

CONCERNING Nature and Grace. DISCOURSE III. Of the Manner of GRACE's acting in us.

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PART I. Concerning Liberty.

I. THERE is nothing more rude and unform'd than the Substance of Spirits, if we separate it from God. For what's a Mind void of Understanding and Reason, destitute of Motion and Love? Yet it is the Word and Wisdom of God which is the universal Reason of Minds; and 'tis the Love whereby God loves himself, that gives the Soul the Motion she has towards Good. If the Mind knows Truth, 'tis by its Natural and Necessary Union with Truth it self: If it is reasonable, 'tis so through supreme Reason: Lastly, If it be a Spirit, or Intelligence, 'tis in one sense, because its Substance is enlightned, penetrated, and perfected by the Light of God himself. These Truths I have explain'd in another Place. So likewise the Substance of the Soul is not capable of loving Good, save by its Natural and Necessary Union with the Eternal and Substantial Love of the Supreme Good; it advances not towards Good any farther than convey'd by God; it is volent only from the Motion it continually receives from him; it lives only through Charity, and wills merely through the Love of Good, which God makes it participate, though it abuses it. For, in fine, God making and preserving Minds only for himself, inclines them towards him as long as he preserves their Being, and communicates the Love of Good to them whilst they are capable of receiving it. Now that natural and continual Motion of the Soul towards Good in general, towards Good indefinite, towards God, is what I here call Will: Since 'tis that Motion which capacitates the Substance of the Soul to love different Goods.

II. This Natural Motion of the Soul towards Good in general, is invincible; for 'tis not in our Power not to will to be happy. We necessarily love what we clearly know and lively feel to be our Good. All Minds love God by the Necessity of their Nature; and if they love any thing else by a Free Choice of their Will, 'tis not because they seek not God, or the Cause of their Felicity, but because they are deceiv'd. 'Tis because, perceiving by a confus'd Sensation, that surrounding Bodies make them happy, they consider them as good, and by an Ordinary and Natural Consequence, love them, and unite to them.

III. But the Love of all these particular Goods is not naturally invincible. Man consider'd in his Original State, might supersede loving those Goods that fill'd not the whole Capacity of his Affection. There being but one Good which includes all others, he might sacrifice every other Love to the Love of this. For God having made Minds only for himself, cannot invincibly carry them to the loving any thing besides him, or without relation to him. Lastly, our own inward Consciousness informs us, that we can reject a Fruit, though we are inclin'd to take it. Now that Power of loving, or not loving particular Goods, the Non-invincibility which is found in the Motion, which carries Minds to the loving what does not seem every way inclusive of all Goods. That Power, or Non-invincibility, is what I call Liberty. Thus placing the Definition instead of the thing defin'd, that Expression, our Will is free, signifies, that the Natural Motion of the Soul towards Good in general, is not invincible in point of Good in particular. To the Word Free, the Idea of Volu [...]tary is commonly annex'd; but in the Sequel of this Discourse, I shall take the Word in the Sense I have observ'd, as being the most Natural and Ordinary.

IV. The Word Good is equivocal, and may signifie either Pleasure which makes formally happy, or the true, or seeming Cause of Pleasure. In this Discourse I shall constantly take the Word Good in the second Sense; because indeed Pleasure is imprinted on the Soul, that she may love the Cause that makes her happy, that she may advance towards it by the Motion of her Love, and may strictly unite to it, to be perpetually happy. When the Soul loves nothing but her own [Page] Pleasure, she in effect loves nothing distinct from her self. For Pleasure is only a Condition or Modification of the Soul, which renders her actually happy and content. But whilst the Soul cannot be the Cause of her own Pleasure, she's unjust, ungrateful, and blind, if she loves her Pleasure, and forgets to pay the Love and Devotion which is due to the true Cause that produces it in her. As none but God can act immediately and by himself on the Soul, and make her sensible of Pleasure by the actual Efficacy of his all-potent Will; so he alone is truly Good. However I term the Creatures Good, which are the seeming Causes of the Pleasures we feel occasionally from them. For I am unwilling to deviate from the customary way of Speaking, any farther than is necessary to explain my self clearly. All Creatures, though Good in themselves, or Perfect, with reference to the Designs of God, are not Good, with reference to us. They are not our Good, nor the true Cause of our Pleasure or Felicity.

V. The natural Motion which God constantly imprints on the Soul to carry it to love him, or (to make use of a Term which is the Abridgement of several Ideas, and can be no longer equivocal or confus'd after the Definition I have given of it,) the Will is determin'd towards particular Goods, either by a clear and evident Knowledge, or by a confus'd Sensation which points these Goods out to us. Whilst the Mind perceives or tasts not any particular Good, the Motion of the Soul remains as it were undetermin'd, it tends towards Good in general. But this Motion receives a particular Determination, as soon as the Mind has the Idea or Sensation of some particular Good: For the Soul being continually bent towards Good undetermin'd, ought to move when the Good appears.

VI. But when the Good, which is present to the Mind and Senses fils not these two Faculties; when it's discover'd under the Idea of a particular Good, of a Good that comprehends not all Goods; and when it is tasted by a Sensation that takes not up the whole Capacity of the Soul, she may still desire the Perception and Fruition of some other Good; she may suspend the Judgment of her Love. She may refuse to acquiesce in the actual Enjoyment, and by her Desires seek out some novel Object. And as her Desires are the Occasional Causes of her Light and Knowledge, she may, by the natural and necessary Union of all Minds with him, who includes the Ideas of all Goods, discover the True Good, and in the True, many other particular Goods different from that she perceiv'd and enjoy'd before.

Therefore having some Knowledge of the Emptiness and Vanity of sensible Goods, and attending to the secret Reproaches of her Reason, to the Remorses of her Conscience, to the Complaints and Menaces of the True Good, who will not that she should sacrifice to seeming and imaginary Goods; may, by the Motion which God continually imprints on her for Good in general, Sovereign Good, that is, for himself, check her self in her Course towards any particular Good. She may resist the sensible Allurements, search and find out other Objects, compare them together, and with the indelible Idea of the Supreme Good, and love none of them with a determinate Love. And if the Sovereign Good comes to be somewhat relish'd, she may prefer it to all particular Goods, though the Pleasure and Satisfaction they seem to infuse into the Soul be extremely great and very agreeable. But these Truths require a larger Explication.

VII. The Soul is constantly driven towards Good in general; she desires the Possession of all Goods, and will never limit her Love; there being no Good that appears such that she refuses to love. Therefore when she actually enjoys a particular Good, she has a Tendency to proceed, farther; she still desires something more by the natural and invincible Impression which God gives her; and to change or divide her Love, it suffices to present her another Good besides that of her present Enjoyment, and to give her a Tast of the Pleasure it affords. Now the Soul may ordinarily seek and discover new Goods: She may likewise approach and enjoy them. For, in fine, her Desires are the Natural or Occasional Causes of her Knowledge; and Objects appear and draw towards her in proportion to her Earnestness to know them. A Man of Ambition, who considers the Lustre of a Dignity, may likewise think on the Slavery, Constraint, and the true Evils that accompany Humane Grandeur; he may summ up the Account, weigh and compare all together, if his Passion does not blind him: For I confess there are Moments in which Passion takes away all Liberty from the Mind, and that it always lessens it. Thus as a Dignity, however great it appears, cannot be taken by a perfectly free and rational Man, for universal and infinite Good, whilst the Will extends to all Goods: This perfectly free and perfectly rational Man, may enquire after and find out others, in as much as he can desire them; it being his Desires which discover and present them to him. He may then examine them and compare them with that which he enjoys. But whereas he can find only particular Goods on Earth, he may, and ought, whilst he lives here below, to examine them, and perpetually seek, and never acquiesce. Or rather, that he may not be constantly following a fresh Chase, he ought in general to neglect all transitory Goods, and desire only such as are Immutable and Eternal.

VIII. But whereas we love not to seek, but to enjoy, and that the Labour of Examination is at present very painful, but Repose and Enjoyment always very agreeable the Soul commonly rests when she has found any Good; she stops at it to enjoy it; she deceives her self, because by her mistaking and judging she has found what she looks for, her Desire is chang'd into Pleasure, and Pleasure makes her happier than Desire. But her Happiness cannot last long: Her Pleasure being ill-grounded, unjust, and deceitful, immediately disquiets and molests her, because she desires to be solidly and truly happy. Thus the natural Love of Good quickens her, and produces in her new Desires. These confus'd Desires represent new Objects. The Love of Pleasure puts her on the Pursuit of those which afford or seem to afford it, and the Love of her Repose fastens [Page] her upon them. She does not immediately examine the Defects of the present Good, when prepossess'd with its Sweetness; but rather contemplates it on its best side, applies to that which charms her, and thinks only of enjoying it. But the more she enjoys, the more she loves it, and the closer she approaches, the more curiously she considers it. But the more she considers it, the more Imperfections she spies in it; and since she desires to be truly happy, she cannot for ever be mistaken. When she is thirsty, and hungry, and weary with seeking, she presently inebriates and fills her self with the first Good she finds; but she is presently disgusted with a Nourishment which was not made for Man. Thus the Love of the True Good excites in her new Desires for fresh Goods; and whilst she constantly changes her Pursuit, all her Life, and her whole Happiness on Earth, consists in a continual Circulation of Thoughts, Desires, and Pleasures. Such is the Soul which makes no use of her Liberty, but leaves her self to the Conduct of Chance, to be guided by the obtaining Motion, and the fortuitous Concourse of determining Objects. But this is the State of a Man whose Understanding is so weak as daily to mistake the false for the true Good; and whose Heart is so corrupt as to betray and sell it self to every thing it is touch'd with, to the Good which gives it an actual Sense of the most sweet and agreeable Pleasures.

IX. But a Man perfectly free, such as we conceive Adam immediately after his Creation, knows clearly that none but God is his Good, or the true Cause of the Pleasures he enjoys. Though he feels Satisfaction upon the approach of circumambient Bodies, he loves them not; God only he loves, and if God forbid him to unite to Bodies, he is ready to forsake them, what Pleasure soever he finds in them. He resolves to fix only in the Enjoyment of the supreme Good, and to sacrifice all others to it; and though never so desirous of Happiness, or the Enjoyment of Pleasures, no Pleasure is stronger than his Light. Not but that Pleasures can blind him, perturbate his Reason, and fill up his thinking Capacity. (For the Mind being finite, all Pleasure is capable of dividing and distracting it:) But that Pleasures being subjected to his Will, he is too cautious to be intoxicated by them. For the sole invincible Pleasure is that of the Blessed, or that which the First Man had found in God, if God should have prevented and hindred his Fall; not only because this Pleasure fills all the Faculties of the Soul, without disturbing her Reason, or carrying her to the Love of a pretended Good; but also because nothing withstands the Enjoyment of this Pleasure; neither the Desire of Perfection, nor that of Felicity. For when we love God we are perfect; when we enjoy him we are happy; and when we love him with Pleasure, we are happy and perfect all at once. Thus the perfectest Liberty is that of Minds, which can at all times overcome the greatest Pleasures; of Minds, to which no Motion towards particular Goods is ever irresistible: 'Tis that of a Man before the Sin, before Concupiscence troubled his Mind and corrupted his Heart. And the most imperfect Liberty is that of those to whom no Motion towards a particular Good, though never so little, but is invincible in all sorts of Circumstances.

X. Now betwixt these two sorts of Liberty there are more and less Perfect to an Infinity of Degrees, which is a thing not sufficiently minded. 'Tis commonly imagin'd that Liberty is equal in all Men, and that 'tis an Essential Faculty of the Mind, the Nature whereof remains constantly the same, though its Action varies according to the diversity of Objects. For we regardlesly suppose a perfect Equality in all things, wherein no sensible Inequality appears. Men indulge their Mind, and rid it of all tedious Application, by giving things an abstract Form, consisting in a sort of indivisible Essence. But this is an Errour, Liberty being no such Faculty as is imagin'd. There are not two Persons equally free in respect of the same Objects. Children have less Liberty than Men arriv'd to the perfect Exercise of their Reason. Nor are there two Men whose Reason is equally clear, constant, and certain, in regard of the same Objects. Those whose Passions are unruly, and who have been unaccustom'd to resist them, are less free than others who have couragiously impugn'd them, and who are naturally Men of Temper; and there are not two Men equally moderate, equally sensible to the same Objects, and who have equally fought for the Preservation of their Liberty. Some Persons there are so sold to Sin, that they less resist, or think of resisting it when awake, than pious Men in their Sleep; since we are taught by the Word of Truth, that he who commits Sin becomes a Slave to it.

XI. 'True it is, that by the Institution of Nature all Men are equally free: For God does not invincibly determine Men to the Love of any particular Good. But Concupiscence corrupts the Moral and Intellectual Part; and since Man has lost the Power of obliterating the Tracts of sensible Pleasures, and stopping the Motions of Concupiscence: That Liberty which had been equal in all Men, if they had not sinn'd, grows unequal, according to their different degrees of Light, and as variously work'd on by Concupiscence. For Concupiscence it self, which is equal in all Men, in as much as they have lost their Power over their Body, is a thousand ways unequal, because of the Diversity that is found in the Construction of the Body, in the Multiplicity and Motion of the Spirits, and those almost infinite Alliances and Relations obtain'd through the Commerce of the World.

XII. To our distincter understanding the Inequality which is found in the Liberty of different Persons, we must observe, that every Man perfectly reasonable, perfectly free, and who would be truly happy, may, and ought, upon the Presence of any Object which gives him the sense of Pleasure, suspend his Love, and carefully examine whether this Object be the true Good, or whether the Motion which carries him towards it exactly comport with that which leads him to the true Good: Otherwise he would love by Instinct, and not by Reason; and if he could not suspend the Judgment of his Love, before he had examin'd it, he would not be perfectly free. But if he clearly discovers that this Object, which gives him the Sense of Pleasure, is truly good [Page] to him; and if the Evidence in conjunction with the Sensation be such as will not permit him to suspend his Judgment, then, though perfectly free, he is no longer free in respect of that Good; but he invincibly loves it, because Pleasure agrees with Evidence. But being that God alone can act in us, as our Good, and the Motion which byasses us towards the Creatures is repugnant to that which carries us towards God; every Man, perfectly reasonable, and entirely free, may and must forbear to judge that sensible Objects are his Goods. He may and ought to suspend the Judgment which regulates, or should regulate his Love. For he can never evidently see that sensible Goods are true Goods, since that can never be evidently seen which is not.

XIII. This Power of suspending the Judgment, which is the actual Rule of Love; this Power, which is the Principle of our Liberty, and by which Pleasures are not always invincible, is very much weaken'd since the Sin, though not quite destroy'd. And that we may have actually this Power, when we are tempted by an Object, 'tis necessary, besides the Love of Order, to have a thoughtful Mind, and to be sensible to the Remorse of Conscience; for a Child or a Man asleep have not actually this Power. But all Men are not equally enlightned; the Mind of Sinners is full of Darkness: Consciences are not equally tender, the Heart of Sinners is hardned: The Love of Order, actual Graces are unequal in all Men: Therefore they are not equally free, nor have equal Power of suspending their Judgment: Pleasure determines them, and moves some rather than others. This Man can suspend his Judgment, and wave his Consent, when a present Object gives him the Tast of a most quickning and sensible Pleasure; and another is of so narrow a Mind, and corrupt an Heart, that the least Pleasure is irresistible, and the least Pain insupportable: Being not wont to fight against sensible Allurements, he becomes so dispos'd as not even to think of resisting them: Thus he has not then the Power of deferring his Consent, since he even wants the Power of making a Reflection; and in regard to that Object, he is like a Man asleep or out of his Wits.

XIV. The more weak is Reason, the more sensible grows the Soul, and more readily and falsly she judges of sensible Good and Evil. If a Leaf pricks, or even tickles a Man when asleep, he wakes in a start, frighted, as if bitten by a Serpent. He perceives this little Evil, and judges of it as of the greatest Misfortunes; so intolerable it appears to him. His Reason fainting by the Slumber, incapacitates him from suspending his Judgment. To him the least Goods as well as Evils, are almost always insuperable. For 'tis the Senses which judge in him, and these are hasty Deciders; which must be so for several Reasons. When Reason is less disabled, little Pleasures are not invincible, nor little Evils intolerable; and Men are not always bound where most Pleasure is to be found. For some Pleasures are so little, that they are despicable to Reason, which is never quite destitute of the Love of Order. The presence of little Evils is not very frightful: A Man, for Example, resolves to be let Blood, and suffers it; he judges not so hastily, but suspends and examines; and the stronger is Reason, the longer is its Suspence, against sensible Invitations and Discouragements. Now there is nothing more certain, than that all Men who partake of the same Reason, partake not of it equally; that all are not equally sensible, at least to the same Objects; that they are not all equally well born, equally well bred, equally a [...]isted by the Grace of Jesus Christ; and therefore not equally free, or capable of suspending the Judgment of their Love in point of the same Objects.

XV. But we are to take notice, that the chief Duty of Minds is to preserve and increase their Liberty, since 'tis by the good use possible to be made of it they may merit their Felicity, if succour'd by the Grace of Jesus Christ; at least lessen their Misery, if left to themselves. That which weakens our Liberty, or makes most Pleasures irresistible to us, is the Eclipse of our Reason, and the Loss of Power we ought to have over our Body. Reason therefore must be instructed by continual Meditations; we must consider our Duties, that we may perform them; and our Infirmities, that we may have recourse to him who is our Strength. And since we have lost the Power of stopping the Impressions made by the Presence of Objects on the Body, which thence corrupt the Mind and Heart, we ought to avoid these Objects, and make use of the Power that is left us. We ought to watch constantly over the Purity of our Imagination, and labour with all our Powers to efface the adulterate Traces imprinted by false Goods, since they kindle Desires in us, which divide our Mind, and weaken our Liberty. By this means the Man whose Liberty is just expiring, who cannot conquer the least of Pleasures, may obtain such a Strength, and such a Freedom, as not to yield to the greatest Souls, their Succours being suppos'd equal. For, at least, at the time whilst these Pleasures do not importune us to Evil, we may lay in to avoid them. We may fortifie our selves by some Reason, that may, through future Pleasures, countervail those we don't actually enjoy. For as every one has some Love of Order, there is no Man but may vanquish a feeble and light Pleasure by a strong and solid Reason; by a reasonable Fear of some Evil, or by the Hope of some great Good. Lastly, there is no one but may, by the Ordinary Supplies of Grace, vanquish some Pleasures and avoid others: Which Pleasures, formerly invincible or studied, being vanquish'd or avoided, are a Preparatory to our assaulting others, at least before they tempt us. For the Satisfaction we find in the Victory provokes us again to Battle; and the Joy of a good Conscience, and the Grace of Jesus Christ administer Courage: And even the Fear of a Defeat is not useless, since it makes us fly to him who can do all things; and make us discreet in avoiding perillous Occasions. Thus we are always Gainers in this sort of Exercise; for if we are worsted, we become more humble, wise, and circumspect, and sometimes more earnest for the Combat, and more capable of Conquering or Resisting.

XVI. As in the study of the Sciences, those who submit not to the false Glimpses of Probabilities, and who are wont to suspend their Judgment till the Light of Truth breaks into them, fall [Page] rarely into Errour; whereas the vulgar part of Men are daily deceiv'd by their precipitate Judgments. So in Moral Discipline, those who use to sacrifice their Pleasures to the Love of Orders, and who continually mortifie their Senses and Passions; especially in things which seem of little moment, which every one may do, will in things important obtain a great Facility of suspending the Judgment which regulates their Love. Pleasure does not surprize them, like other Men, at least does not drag them along unawares. It seems, on the contrary, that whilst it sensibly affects them, it cautions them to take care of themselves, and to consult Reason, or the Rules of the Gospel. Their Conscience is more nice and tender than that of others, who, in the Scripture Phrase, drink Sin like Water. They are sensible to the secret Reproaches of Reason, and the wholsome Precautions of inward Truth. So that the acquir'd Habit of resisting feeble and light Pleasures, makes way for the conquering the more violent; at least for the suffering some Regret and Shame, when a Man is conquer'd, which creates forthwith Dislike and Abhorrence. Liberty thus insensibly increasing, and perfecting it self by Exercise, and the Assistance of Grace, we may at last put our selves in a Capacity of performing the most difficult Commandments; in as much as by the ordinary Graces which are constantly afforded Christians, we may overcome common Temptations, and for the most part avoid the greatest; and by the Assistance of the Grace of Jesus Christ there is none but may be vanquish'd.

XVII. 'Tis true, that a Sinner so dispos'd, as not able so much as to think of resisting a surprizing Pleasure, cannot actually accomplish the Commandment that orders him not to enjoy it. For the Pleasure is insuperable to him in that Estate. And if we but suppose this Person in this State of Impotence, through a Natural Necessity, his Sin not being free, could not make him more culpable; I mean, more worthy of the Punishment of Pain, than if he were inordinate in his Sleep. Nay, if this Impotency were a necessary Consequence of the free Disorders which had preceded his Conversion, it would not be imputed to him, by reason of his Charity. But since he was both able and oblig'd to use himself to resisting Pleasure, and combating for the Preservation and Augmentation of his Liberty; this Sin, though actually committed by a kind of Necessity, renders him guilty and punishable; if not by reason of his Sin, at least because of his Negligence, which is the Principle of it. The Commandment of God is not absolutely impossible; but the Sinner may and ought, for the foregoing Reasons, to put himself into a Condition of observing it; since Men are oblig'd, as well as able, to labour constantly to augment and perfect their Liberty; not only by the Helps reach'd to them by Jesus Christ, but also by natural Forces, or ordinary Graces. For, in brief, Nature may be made subservient to Grace in a thousand Instances.

PART II. Of GRACE.

XVIII. THE Inequality which is found in the Liberty of different Persons being clearly known, it will be no hard Matter, methinks, to discover how Grace works in us; if we but affix to the Word Grace distinct and particular Ideas, and remember the Difference between the Grace of the Creator and Renovator. I said, in the preceding Discourse, that there is this difference between Light and Pleasure, That the former leaves us entirely to our selves, whilst the latter incroaches upon our Liberty. For Light is something extraneous to us; it does not affect and modifie our Soul; it does not drive us to the Objects it discovers; but only disposes us to move our selves, and to consent freely, and by Reason to the Impression God gives us towards Good. The Knowledge of our Duty, the clear Idea of Order, separate from all Sensation, the Contemplation of naked, abstract, wholly pure, and intelligible Good, that is, Good without Tast or Fore-tast, leaves the Soul to her entire Liberty. But Pleasure is an Inmate to the Soul, it touches and modifies her. And so it diminishes our Liberty, makes us love Good, rather by a Love of Instinct and Passion, than of Choice and Reason. And it transports us, as I may say, to sensible Objects: Not that Pleasure is the same thing as Love, or the Motion of the Soul towards Good; but that it causes this Love, or determines this Motion towards the Object that makes us happy. But because no Truths are demonstrable, save those whereof we have clear Ideas, which we have not of our own inward Motions, 'tis not possible for me to demonstrate what I advance, as we demonstrate the Conclusions depending on common Notions. Every one therefore must consult his own inward feeling of what passes in his Soul, if he would be convinc'd of the difference between Light and Pleasure; and must carefully observe, that commonly Light is attended with Pleasure, which yet he must separate to judge soundly of it. But of this I have said enough.

XIX. If then it be true, that Pleasure naturally produces Love, and is like a Weight which gives the Soul a Propensity to the Good that causes or seems to cause it; 'tis visible that the Grace of Jesus Christ, or the Grace of Sensation, is of it self efficacious. For though preventing Delectation, when but weak, works not an entire Conversion in the Heart of those whose Passions are too lively; yet it never fails of its Effect, in as much as it always inclines them towards God. It is in some measure always efficacious, but it has not always all possible Effect, because of the Resistance of Concupiscence.

[Page]XX. Put, for Example, in one Scale of a Balance ten pound weight, and in the other only six; this latter weight shall truly gravitate; for adding but so much more weight to this, or taking it from the opposite Scale, or lastly, hanging the Balance nearer the over-weighted, and the six pounds shall carry it. But though this weight gravitates, 'tis visible its effect depends still on the resisting weight, and the manner of its resisting. Thus the Grace of Sensation is always of it self efficacious; it constantly weakens the Effort of Concupiscence, since Pleasure naturally creates Love, for the Cause which produces, or seems to produce it. But though this Grace be always Self-efficacious, yet it depends, or rather its Effect depends on the actual Dispositions of the Receiver. The weight of Concupiscence resists it, and sensible Pleasures, which draw us to the Creatures that seem to produce it in us, hinder the Pleasures of Grace from uniting us strictly to him, who alone can act in us, and make us happy.

XXI. But the case is otherwise with the Grace of Light, or the Grace of the Creator. It is not of it self efficacious. It does not move or convey the Soul, but leaves her perfectly to her self. But though it be not efficacious of it self, it nevertheless is persued by many Effects, when 'tis great, and animated by some delectable Grace, which gives it Force and Vigour; or when it meets with no contrary Pleasure that greatly resists it. Such is the difference between the Grace of the Creator and that of the Restorer; between Light and Pleasure; between the Grace which supposes not Concupiscence, and the Grace which is given us to counterpoize the Pleasures of it. The one is sufficient to a Man perfectly Free and Fortified with Charity; the other is efficacious to a Man Infirm, to whom Pleasure is necessary to draw him to the Love of the True Good.

XXII. But the Force and Efficacy of Grace ought always to be compar'd with the Action of Concupiscence, with the Light of Reason; and especially with the degree of Liberty the Person is endued with. And we must not imagine that God bestows it by particular Wills, with design to produce certain Effects by it, and nothing more. For when 'tis said that Grace always works in the Heart the Effect for which 'tis given, we err if we suppose God acts like Men, with particular Considerations. God diffuses his Grace with a General Design of sanctifying all that receive it, or according as the Occasional Cause determines him to refuse it. Mean while he knows very well that it will not have so much Effect in some, as in others; not only because of the Inequality of Force on the part of Grace, but also of the Inequality of Resistance on the part of Concupiscence.

XXIII. Since Concupiscence has not utterly destroy'd the Liberty of Man, the Grace of Jesus Christ, as efficacious as it is, is not absolutely irresistible. A sensible Pleasure is superable, when weak; and a Man may suspend the Judgment of his Love, when he is not hurried by a too violent Passion: And when he stoops to the Lure of an adulterate Pleasure, he is culpable through the Abuse of his Liberty. So likewise the Delectation of Grace is not ordinarily invincible. A Man may decline following the good Motions it inspires, which remove us from the false Objects of our Love. This Grace fills not the Soul in such a manner as to hurry her to the True Good, without Cho [...]ce, Judgment, and Free Consent. Thus when we resign up our selves to its Motion, and advance farther, as I may say, than it irresistibly carries us; when we sacrifice the Pleasures of Concupiscence, which weaken its Efficacy; or, lastly, when we act by Reason, or love the true Good as we ought, we merit through the good use we make of our Liberty.

XXIV. 'Tis true, that Delectable Grace, consider'd in it self, and separate from the Pleasures of Concupiscence, which are contrary to it, is always invincible. Because this holy Pleasure being conformable to the Light of Reason, nothing can withstand its Effect in a Man perfectly free. When the Mind sees clearly, by the Light of Reason, that God is its Good; and has a lively Sense of him by the Tast of Pleasure, 'tis not possible to avoid loving him. For the Mind desires Happiness, and then nothing hinders it from following the agreeable Motions of its Love. It feels no Remorses which oppose its present Felicity; nor is it withheld by Pleasures contrary to that which it enjoys. The Delight of Grace is then invincible; nor is the Love it produces meritorious, unless it be greater than its Cause. I say, that the Love which is merely a Natural or Necessary Effect of the Delectation of Grace, has nothing meritorious, though it be good in it self. For whilst we move no farther than we are driven, or rather, when we advance no longer than we are paid in hand, we have no Claim to any Recompence. When we love God but so far as we are attracted, or because we are attracted, we love him not by Reason, but by Instinct; we love him not on Earth as he requires and deserves from us. But we merit only when we love God by Choice, by Reason, by the Knowledge we have of his being amiable. We merit in proceeding on, as I may say, towards Good, when Pleasure has determin'd the Motion of Love.

XXV. This sole Reason demonstrates either that the first Man was not invited to the Love of God, by the blind Instinct of Pleasure; or at least, that this Pleasure was not so lively as what he felt in reflecting on his own Natural Perfections, or in the actual use of sensible Goods. For 'tis evident such a Pleasure would have made him impeccable; it would have put him in a State like that of the Blessed; which merit no longer: Not because they are out of a Wayfaring State; (for Merit always follows from meritorious Actions; and God, being Just, must necessarily reward them:) But they merit not, because the Pleasure they find in God is equal to their Love, that they are throughly imbued with it, and that being freed from all sort of Pain, and all Motions of Concupiscence, they have nothing left to sacrifice to God.

XXVI. For that which makes us impeccable is not precisely that which incapacitates us to merit. Jesus Christ was impeccable, and yet he merited his Glory, and that of the Church, whereof he is the Head. Being perfectly free, he lov'd his Father, not by the Instinct of Pleasure, but by Choice and Reason. He lov'd him, because he intuitively saw how amiable he was. For the [Page] most perfect Liberty is that of a Mind, which has all possible Light, and is not determin'd by any Pleasure; because all Pleasure, preventing or other, naturally produces some Love; and unless we resist it, it efficaciously determines towards the agreeable Object, the Natural Motion of the Soul. But Light, though conceiv'd never so great, leaves the Mind perfectly free, supposing this Light be consider'd alone, and separate from Pleasure.

XXVII. As Jesus Christ is nothing but the Word, or Reason Incarnate, certainly he ought not to love Good with a blind Love, with the Love of Instinct, with the Love of Sensation, but by Reason. He ought not to love an infinitely amiable Good, and which he knew perfectly worthy of his Love, as we love Goods that are not amiable, and which we cannot know as worthy of Love. He ought not to love his Father by a Love in any respect like that wherewith we love the vilest Creatures, wherewith we love Bodies: His Love to be pure, at least, to be perfectly meritorious, ought to be no wise produc'd by preventing Pleasures.

For Pleasure may and must be the Recompence of a Legitimate Love, as in effect it is in the Saints, and Jesus Christ himself. But it cannot be the Principle of Merit, nor ought it to precede Reason, unless debilitated. But Reason in Jesus Christ was no ways weakned. Supreme Reason supported the Created. Jesus Christ, who was free from the Motions of Concupiscence, had no need of preventing Delight to counterbalance sensible Pleasures which surprize us. Nay, it may be he refus'd to tast the Pleasure of Joy, which was a natural Result of the Knowledge he had of his Vertue and Perfections, that, being deprived of all sorts of Pleasures, his Sacrifice might be more holy, more pure, and more disinteress'd. Lastly, Beside the Privation of all Pleasures, preventing and others; 'tis likely he inwardly suffer'd unspeakable Droughts, not better expressible by Souls fill'd with Charity, than by the Dereliction of God, according to these Words of our Saviour on the Cross; My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? But if we will absolutely have it, that Jesus Christ was carried by preventing Pleasures to the Love of his Father, 'tis necessary to say, according to the Principles I have laid down, either that his Love was more intense than his Pleasure; since Natural Love, produc'd by the Instinct of Pleasure is no ways meritorious; or at least, we must say he merited by sensible Pains, by the continual Sacrifice, which he freely and voluntarily offer'd to his Father. For 'twas necessary he should suffer to enter in Possession of his Glory; as we are taught by Scripture.

XXVIII. Though the Delectation of Grace, without relation to any contrary Pleasure, infallibly gains the Consent of the Will; yet it is not so with the Pleasures of Concupiscence. These Pleasures, consider'd in themselves, without respect to other actual Pleasures, are not always insurmountable. The Light of Reason condemns them; the Remorse of Conscience makes us abhor them; and we may commonly suspend our Consent. Therefore the Grace of Jesus Christ is stronger than Concupiscence; and we may call it Victorious, since the former always masters the Heart, when equal to the latter. For when the Balance of our Heart is perfectly in Equilibrio, by the even Weights of contrary Pleasures, that which is most solid and reasonable, has the Advantage; because Light adds some Grains to its efficacy, and the Remorses of Conscience withstand the Influence of a counterfeit Pleasure.

XXIX. We must conclude, from what we have said, that we always merit when we love the true Good by Reason; and that we merit not at all, when we love it by Instinct. We merit always when we love the true Good by Reason, because Order will have the true Good lov'd in that manner, and that mere Light does not convey us, or invincibly determine us to the Good discover'd by it. We merit not when we love the true Good by Instinct, or as much as we are invincibly mov'd and determin'd by Pleasure: Because Order requires that the true Good, or the Good of the Mind, should be lov'd by Reason, by a free Love, a Love of Choice and Judgment; whilst the Love which is produc'd by Pleasure, is a Blind, Natural, and Necessary Love. I own, that when we advance farther than Pleasure forces us, we merit. But that's because we therein act by Reason, and in the way that Order would have us. For Love, so much as it exceeds Pleasure, is a pure and reasonable Love.

XXX. So likewise we must conclude, that we always demerit when we love a false Good, by the Instinct of Pleasure, provided we love it more than we are invincibly forc'd. For when our Liberty is naturally so straitned, and our Capacity of Mind so little, that we are carried in an irresistible manner, then though we are corrupt, and our Love be evil, and against Order; yet we don't demerit: To demerit, I mean to deserve to be punish'd, we must pursue false Goods with more ardency, or tend farther than Pleasure irresistibly carries us. For we must observe, that there is great difference between a Good and a Meritorious Action; between a Corrupt and a Demeritoous. The Love of the Blessed is Good, but it is not Meritorious: The Love of a Righteous Person is often deprav'd in his Sleep; but it is not Demeritorious. Whatever is conformable to Order, is good; and whatever is contrary to it is naught. But there is nothing of Merit or Demerit, save in the good or ill use of our Liberty, save in that in which we are the Factors. But we make a good use of our Liberty, when we follow Light; when we unconstrain'd, and of our selves, advance to the true Good, or were at first determin'd by preventing Delectation, or the Light of Reason; when we sacrifice sensible Pleasures to our Duty, and surmount Pain by the Love of Order. On the contrary, we make an ill use of our Liberty, when we make Pleasure our Reason, when we sacrifice our Duty to our Passions, our Perfection to present Felicity, the Love of Order to the Love of our selves; and all this at a time, when we might really have prevented it▪ But I proceed to explain this still more clearly.

XXXI. When two Objects are offer'd to the Mind, and it determines it self about them, I confess it never fails to take that side where most Reason and Pleasure appears; or, all things consider'd, [Page] where most Good is to be found. For the Soul not being able to will, or love, but through the Love of Good, since the Will is nothing but the Love of Good, or the Natural Motion of the Soul towards it, she unavoidably loves what has most conformity with what she loves invincibly. But 'tis certain, that when sensible Pleasure, or something of like nature, does not perturbate the Mind, we may ever suspend the Judgment of our Love, and not determine, especially in point of false Good. For the Soul can have no Evidence that false Goods are the true, or that the Love of the former agrees perfectly with the Motion which carries us to the latter. Therefore when a Man loves false Goods, whilst his Senses and Passions leave his Reason entirely free, he demerits: Because then he may and ought to suspend the Judgment of his Love. For if he stood any time to examine what was speedily to be done, the false Good would appear in its own Colours, the Pleasure which it seems to infuse into the Soul would vanish, the Idea of some other Good would present it self to the Mind; the Remorse of Conscience, and perhaps the Delectation of Grace, would change all the Dispositions of his Mind and Heart: For the State of a Traveller has nothing certain. A thousand different Objects are continually offer'd to the Mind, and the Life of Man on Earth is nothing but a continual train of Thoughts and Desires.

XXXII. At first Sight it seems that, in point of the true Good, we cannot suspend the Judgment of our Love; for we cannot suspend our Judgment, save when Evidence is not perfect. Now we may see with the clearest Evidence, that God is the true Good; and that none but he can be good to us: We know that he is infinitely more amiable than we can conceive. But it is observable, that though we cannot suspend the Judgment of Reason, in respect of Speculative Truths, when the Evidence is entire; yet we may suspend the Judgment of our Love in point of Goods, whatever Evidence there is in our Ideas. For when Sense fights against Reason, when Tast opposes Light, when that is found sensibly bitter and disagreeable, which Reason clearly represents as sweet and delectable, we may suspend our Choice, and follow either Reason, or the Senses. We may act, and commonly do act against our Light; because, when we attend to the Sensation, Light disappears, unless we strive to retain it: And because we are ordinarily more attentive to Sensation than to Light, because Sensation is always more lively and agreeable than the most evident Knowledge.

XXXIII. 'Tis Pleasure which makes Minds actually happy. Therefore we ought to enjoy Pleasure, when we love the true Good. Yet a Mind thinks on God, draws nigh him by its Love, and tasts no Satisfaction. On the contrary, God fills it sometimes with Bitterness and Drought, he deserts it, and repels it, as I may say; not that it may cease to love him, but rather that its Love may be more humble, more pure, and meritorious: Lastly, he prescribes it certain things which render it actually miserable. But if it approaches Bodies, it finds it self happy in proportion to the Strictness of its Union to them. Certainly, this is perplexing to a Man never so intelligent, since we are invincibly passionate for Happiness. Therefore we merit much, if, following our Light, we renounce our selves; notwithstanding those discomforting Droughts, if we sacrifice our actual Happiness to the Love of the true Good; if living by Faith, and relying on the Promises of God, we remain inviolably bent upon our Duty. Hence we clearly understand, that Jesus Christ might merit his Glory, though he knew the true Good in the highest Evidence; because, having an extreme Love for his Father, he was entirely conformable to his Orders, without being carried by preventing Pleasures; because, being steadily guided by his Light, he suffer'd most violent Pains, and sacrific'd the most lively and sensible Pleasures to his Charity. For he took on him a Body like to ours, that he might have a Victim to offer to God, and that duly receiving through this Body, as the Occasional or Natural Cause, an abundance of various Sensations, he might accomplish a perfect Holocaust, to the Honour of the true Good, by the enduring Pain, and the Privation of sensible Pleasures.

XXXIV. To the end every one may have a most perfect Idea of the Grace of Jesus Christ, I think it requisite to add, that it consists not in Delectation alone: For all Grace of Sensation is the Grace of Jesus Christ. But of this Grace there are many Species, and of every Species infinite degrees. God sometimes casts Distast and Bitterness on the Objects of our Passions, he weakens their sensible Charms, or makes us hate or abhor them. And this kind of Grace of Sensation makes the same Effect as preventing Delight. It restores and fortifies our Liberty, reinstates us almost in Equilibrio, and thereby puts us in a Capacity of following our Light in the Motion of our Love. For to restore a Balance to an even poize, or to change its propension, we need not augment the lesser Weight, but only retract from the over-loaden Scale. Thus there are Graces of Sensation of several sorts, and every sort is capable of infinite degrees. For there are Pleasures, Aversions, and Dislikes, greater and lesser ad infinitum. What I have hitherto said of Delectation, may be easily apply'd to other Species of the Grace of Sensation. I only made choice of Pleasure or Delectation, as a particular Example, to explain my self clearly, and without Ambiguity.

If there be any other Principle of our Determinations to Good besides the Grace of Sensation, and that of Light, I confess I am utterly ignorant of it; and therefore I have resolv'd to explain the Effects of Grace, necessary to the Conversion of Heart; but by these two Principles, for fear of incurring the blame of discoursing in general Terms, that of themselves excite only confus'd Ideas; which thing I avoid with all possible Care. But though I have explain'd my self in Terms understood by all Mankind; since there is no body but knows, that the Knowledge and Sense of Good are Principles of our Determinations; yet I presume not to impugn those, who, sticking not to these clear Ideas, say in general, that God operates the Conversion of our Souls by a particular Action, different, it may be, from all I have here and elsewhere said; that God Illustrations upon the Search after Truth. works in us. Experiencing in my self no other Motion than towards Good in general, and that determin'd by Knowledge [Page] or Sensation, I ought to suppose nothing more; if by this alone I can account for all that the Scripture and Councils have determin'd about the present Subject. In a word, I am well assur'd that Light and Sensation are the Principles of our Determinations; but I declare that I cannot tell but there may be some other whereof I have no Knowledge.

XXXV. Besides Grace of it self efficacious, and that the Effect whereof entirely depends on the good Dispositions of the Mind; besides the Grace of Sensation and the Grace of Light, the Righteous have moreover an Habitual Grace, which makes them agreeable to God, and capacitates them to work Actions meritorious of Salvation. This Grace is Charity, the Love of God, or the Love of Order; a Love which is not properly Charity, unless it be stronger and greater than every other Love. As it is commonly Pleasure which produces the Love of the Object that's the true or apparent Cause of it; so 'tis the Delectation of Grace which produces the Love of God. 'Tis the Enjoyment of Sensible Pleasures which heightens Concupiscence; and 'tis the Grace of Sensation which encreases Charity. Concupiscence diminishes by the deprivation of Sensible Pleasures, and then Charity is easily preserv'd and nourish'd. And whilst Charity faints by the privation of the actual Grace of Jesus Christ, Concupiscence speedily thrives and grows upon it. For these two Loves, Charity and Cupidity, constantly war with one another, and gather Strength from the Weakness of their Enemy.

XXXVI. Whatever participates of Charity, is well-pleasing to God; but Charity is not always active in the Just themselves. In order to its working, 'tis necessary at least it be Illuminate: For Knowledge is needful to determine the Motion of Love. Thus the Grace necessary to every Good Work relating to Salvation, is that of Sensation, in those who begin their Conversion; is that of Light, at least, or some Motion of Faith or Hope, in those who are animated with Charity. For though the Righteous may do Good Works without the Grace of Delectation, they have always need of some actual Assistance to determine the Motion of their Charity. But although Charity without Delectation is sufficient to conquer many Temptations, yet the Grace of Sensation is necessary on many Occasions. For Men cannot, without the continual Help of the Second Adam, resist the continual Action of the First. They cannot persevere in Righteousness, unless frequently assisted with the particular Grace of Jesus Christ, which produces, augments, and maintains Charity against the continual Efforts of Concupiscence.

XXXVII. The Effects of Pleasure, and of all the Sensations of the Soul, have a thousand several Dependencies on the actual Dispositions of the Mind. The very same Weight has not always the same Effects: It depends in its Action on the Structure of the Machine by which it is applied to the contrary Weight. If a Balance be unequally suspended, the force of the Weights being unequally applied, the lighter may overweigh the heavier. So it fares with the Weight of Pleasures: They act one on another, and determine the Motion of the Soul, according as they are diversly applied. Pleasure ought to have a greater Influence on the Person who has already a Love for the Object which causes it, than on another who has an Aversion, or that loves opposite Goods. Pleasure forcibly determines a Person who clearly knows, or vividly imagines the Advantages of Good, which seems to cause it; and acts feebly on the Mind of him who knows this Good but confusedly, and is distrustful of it. Lastly, It acts with its whole Force on him who blindly follows all that gratifies Concupiscence; and perhaps will have no Effect on him who has acquir'd some Habit of suspending the Judgment of his Love.

Now since the different degrees of Light, Charity, Concupiscence, and the different degrees of Liberty, are perpetually combining infinite ways, with the different degrees of actual Pleasures; which Pleasures are operative, but according to their relation to the Dispositions of the Mind and Heart; 'tis manifest that no finite Mind can with any certainty pronounce of the Effect a particular Grace ought to produce in us. For besides that, there's an infinite Combination in the things concurring to the Efficacy of Grace, or the Production of its Effect, this Combination is not like that of moving Springs and Forces, which have always infallible and necessary Effects. Therefore 'tis impossible for any finite Mind to discover what passes in the Heart of Man.

XXXVIII. But whereas God has an infinite Wisdom, 'tis visible that he clearly knows all the Effects that can result from the Mixture and Combination of all these things; and that penetrating the Heart of Man, he infallibly discovers even the Effects, which depend on an Act, or rather on a free Consent of our Wills. Nevertheless I confess I cannot conceive how God can discover the Consequences of Actions which derive not their Infallibility from his absolute Decrees. But I have no Mind to insist on Metaphysicks, at the Expence of Morality, and to affirm as undeniable Truths, Opinions that are contrary to my own inward Consciousness of my self; or in fine, to speak to the Ears a certain Language which affords no clear Idea to the Mind. I know well that such Objections may be made as would be too hard for me to answer satisfactorily and clearly: But it may be these Objections are naturally full of Obscurity and Darkness; are founded on the Ignorance we are in of the Properties of our Soul. 'Tis from our having (as I have elsewhere proved) no clear Idea of our Being, and that what is in us,First Illustration on the 7th. Ch. of the 2d. Part of the 3d. Book of the Search. Second Illustration. which gives way to be conquer'd by a Determination not invincible, is absolutely unknown to us. Furthermore, if I cannot clearly answer these Objections, I can answer by others, which to me seem more incapable of Solution: I can, from Principles oppos'd to mine, deduce more harsh and unlucky Consequences than those which are presum'd to follow from Liberty, such as I have suppos'd in us. But I engage not on the Particulars of all this, as taking no delight to walk in the dark, and to lead others upon Precipices.

THE ILLUSTRATION OR CONTINUATION OF THE TREATISE CONCERNING Nature and Grace.

[Page]

What is meant by acting by General and Particular Wills.

I. I Say that God acts by General Wills when he acts in consequence of the General Laws which he has establish'd. For Example: I say that God acts in me by General Wills, when he gives me the Sense of Pain when I am prick'd; since in pursuance of the General and Efficacious Laws of Union of my Soul and Body which he has constituted, he makes me suffer Pain when my Body's ill dispos'd.

So when a Bowl strikes another, I say God moves the stricken by a General Will, because he moves it in pursuance of the General and Efficacious Laws of the Communications of Motions; God having generally Ordain'd, that at the Instant of Collision of two Bodies, the Motion should be distributed between them, according to certain Proportions; and 'tis by the Efficacy of that General Will, that Bodies have the force of moving one another.

II. I say, on the contrary, that God acts by Particular Wills, when the Efficacy of his Will is not determin'd by some General Law, to the producing any Effect. Thus supposing God should make me feel the Pain of pricking, whilst there happen'd no Change in my Body, or in any Creature whatsover, which determines him to act in me by some General Law; I say that then God acts by Particular Wills.

So again supposing a Body begins to move without being stricken by another, or without any Alteration happening in the Will of Spirits, or in any other Creature which determines the Efficacy of some General Laws; I say that God would move that Body by a Particular Will.

III. According to these Definitions, it plainly appears, that, so far from denying Providence, I suppose on the contrary, that God works all in all things; that the Nature of the Heathen Philosophers is a Chimera; and that, to speak properly, Nature is nothing but the General Laws which God has establish'd for the Construction or Preservation of his Work, by the simplest ways, by an Action always uniform, constant, perfectly worthy of an infinite Wisdom, and an universal Cause. But that which I here suppose, though certain, for the Reasons I have given in The Search after Truth, is not absolutely necessary to what I design to prove. For if it be suppos'd, that God had communicated his Power to the Creatures in such a manner, as that surrounding Bodies had a real and true Force, by which they might act on our Soul, and make her happy and miserable by Pleasure and Pain; and that Bodies in Motion had in themselves a certain Entity, which [Page] they call Impress'd Quality; that they can communicate it to those about them, and with that Celerity and Uniformity we observe; it would be still equally easie to prove what I intend: For then the Efficacy of the concurrent Action of the General Cause would be necessarily determin'd by the Action of the Particular Cause. God, for Instance, would be oblig'd, by these Principles, to afford his Concourse to a Body at the Instant of Collision, that it might communicate its Motion to others; which is still to act by virtue of a General Law. Yet I do not argue upon that Supposition, as believing it utterly false, as I have shewn in the Third Chapter and Second Part of the Sixth Book of The Search after Truth, in the Illustration of the same Chapter, and elsewhere.

Which Truths suppos'd, here follow the Notes by which we may discover whether an Effect be produc'd by a General or Particular Will.

MARKS by which we may judge whether an Effect be produc'd by a General or Particular Will.

IV. When we see an Effect immediately produc'd after the Action of an Occasionl Cause, we ought to judge it produc'd by the Efficacy of a General Will. A Body moves immediately after the Collision; the Collision of Bodies is the Action of an Occasional Cause: Therefore this Body moves by a General Will. A Stone falls on the Head of a Man, and kills him; and this Stone falls like all others, that is, continues its Motion almost in Arithmetical Proportion, 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, &c. Which suppos'd, I say it moves by the Efficacy of a General Will, or by the Laws of the Communications of Motions, as is easie to demonstrate.

V. When we see an Effect produc'd without the Mediation of the known Occasional Cause, we have reason to think it produc'd by a Particular Will; supposing this Effect be not manifestly unworthy of its Cause, as I shall say hereafter.

For Example: When a Body's mov'd without being smitten by another, there's great Probability it was mov'd by a Particular Will; but yet we cannot be confident of it. For on Supposition of a General Law, that Bodies should move according to the several Volitions of Angels, or the like, 'tis visible this Body might be put in Motion without Impulsion; the particular Will of some Angel being in this case able to determine the Will of the general Cause to move it. Thus we may be often positive, that God acts by general Wills, but we cannot have the like Assurance that he acts by particular Wills, even in the most averr'd Miracles.

VI. Since we have not a competent Knowledge of the various Combinations of Occasional Causes, to discover whether such and such Effects arrive in consequence of their Action; and are not sufficiently Intelligent to discover, for Instance, whether such a Rain be Natural or Miraculous, produc'd by a necessary Consequence of the Communication of Motions, or by a particular Will; we must judge an Effect is produc'd by a General Will, when 'tis visible the Cause did not propose it self a particular End. For the Wills of Intelligences have necessarily an End; general Wills a general End, and particular Wills a particular Design. Nothing can be more plain and evident.

For Example: Though I cannot discover whether a Shower of Rain which falls on a Meadow, falls in consequence of general Laws, or by a particular Will of God, I have reason to think it falls by a general Will, if I see it fall as well on the neighbouring Grounds, or on the River which bounds the Meadow, no less than on the Meadow it self. For if God caus'd it to rain on this Meadow by a particular Benevolence to the Owner, this Rain would not fall on the River where 'tis insignificant; since it could not fall there without a Cause or Will in God which has necessarily some End.

VII. But we have still more Reason to think an Effect is produc'd by a general Will, when this Effect is contrary or even useless to the Design, which we are taught by Faith, or Reason, the Cause propos'd.

For Instance: The End which God proposes in the various Sensations he affords the Soul, in our tasting different Fruits, is, that we may eat those which are fit for Nourishment, and reject the rest. I suppose thus: Therefore when God gives a grateful Sensation at the Instant of our eating Poisons, or empoison'd Fruits, he acts not in us by particular Wills. So we ought to conclude, since that agreeable Sensation is the Cause of our Death, whilst the End of God's giving us diverse Sensations is to preserve our Life by a convenient Nourishment; for I once more suppose thus. For I speak only with reference to the Grace which God gives us, doubtless to convert us; so that 'tis visible God showers it not on Men by particular Wills, since it frequently renders them more Culpable and Criminal: For God cannot have so Fatal a Design. God gives us not therefore agreeable Sensations by particular Wills, when we eat poisonous Fruits. But because a poisonous Fruit excites in our Brain Motions like those produc'd by wholsome Fruits, God gives us the same Sensations, by reason of the general Laws which unite the Soul to the Body, that she might be wakeful for its Preservation.

So likewise God gives not those who have lost an Arm Sensations of Pain relating to it, but by a general Will: For 'tis useless to the Body of this Man, that his Soul should suffer Pain relating to an Arm that's lost. 'Tis the same case with Motions produc'd in the Body of a Man, in the Commission of a Crime.

[Page]Finally, supposing we are obliged to think that God scatters his Rain upon the Earth, wit [...] Intent to make it fruitful; we cannot believe he distributes it by particular Wills, since it falls upon the Sands, and in the Sea, as well as on plow'd Lands, and is often so excessive on seeded Ground, as to extirpate the Corn, and frustrate the Labours of the Husbandman.

Thus it is certain, that Rains which are useless or noxious to the Fruits of the Earth, are necessary Consequences of the general Laws of the Communications of Motions, which God has establish'd for the producing better Effects in the World; supposing, (which I again repeat) that God cannot will, by a particular Volition, that Rain should cause the Barrenness of the Earth.

VIII. Lastly, When an Effect happens which has something extraordinary, 'tis reasonable to believe it is not produc'd by a general Will.

Nevertheless, 'tis impossible to be sure of it. If, for Example, in the Procession of the Holy Sacrament, it rains on the Assistants, save on the Priests, and those which carry it, we have reason to think this proceeds from a particular Will of the universal Cause; yet we cannot be certain, because an occasional intelligent Cause may have this particular Design, and so determine the Efficacy of the general Law to execute it.

IX. When the preceding Marks are not sufficient for us to judge whether a certain Effect is or is not produc'd by a general Will, we are to believe it is, if it be certain there is an Occasional Cause establish'd for the like Effects.

For Example: We see it rain to some Purpose in a Field; we do not examine whether this Rain falls or not in the great Roads, we know not whether it be noxious to the bordering Grounds; nay we suppose it only does good, and that all the attending Circumstances are perfectly accommodated to the Design for which we are oblig'd to believe that God would have it rain: Nevertheless, I say that we ought to judge this Rain is produc'd by a general Will, if we know that God has setled an Occasional Cause for the like Effects. For we must not have recourse to Miracles without Necessity. We ought to suppose that God acts herein by the simplest ways; and though the Lord of the Field ought to return Thanks to God for the Bounty, yet he ought not to imagine it was caus'd in a miraculous manner by a particular Will.

The Owner of the Field ought to thank God for the Good he receives, since God saw and will'd the good Effect of the Rain, when he establish'd the general Laws whereof it is a necessary Consequence, and that it was for the like Effects they were establish'd. On the contrary, if the Rains are sometimes hurtful to the Earth, as it was not to render them unfruitful, that God establish'd the Laws which make it rain, since Drought suffices to make them barren; 'tis plain we ought to thank God, and to adore the Wisdom of his Providence, even when we do not [...]eel the Effects of the Laws establish'd in our Favour.

X. But, to conclude, when we cannot be certified by the Circumstances which accompany certain Effects, that there is an Occasional Cause establish'd to produce them, 'tis sufficient to know they are very common, and relate to the principal Design of the general Cause, in order to judge they are produc'd by a general Will.

For Example: The Springs which water the Surface of the Earth, are subservient to the principal Design of God, which is, that M [...]n should not want things necessary to Life; I suppose so. Besides, these Fountains are very common, therefore we ought to conclude they are fo [...]m'd by some General Laws. For as there is much more Wisdom in executing his Designs by Simple and General Means, than by Complicated and Particular, as I think I have sufficiently prov'd elsewhere. We owe that Honour to God, as to believe his way of acting is general, uniform, constant, and proportion'd to the Idea we have of an infinite Wisdom. These are the Marks by which we are to judge whether an Effect be produc'd by a general Will. I now come to prove, that God bestows his Grace on Men by general Laws, and that Jesus Christ has been establish [...]d the Occasional Cause to determine their Efficacy. I begin by the Proofs of Holy Scripture.

XI. St. Paul teaches us, That Jesus Christ is the Head of the Church: That he constantly influences it with Spirit and Life:Col. 2.19. That he forms the Members, and animates them as the Soul animates the Body, or, to speak still more clearly, the Holy Scripture teaches us two things: The first,Heb. 7.25.9.24. Joh. 11.42. that Jesus Christ prays continually for his Members. The second, that his Prayers or Desires are always heard. Whence I conclude, that he was constituted by God the Occasional Cause of Grace; and likewise, that Grace is never given to Sinners, but through his Means.

The Occasional Causes have constantly and readily their Effect. The Prayers and diverse Desires of Jesus Christ, with reference to the Formation of his Body, have likewise most constantly and speedily their Accomplishment. God denies his Son nothing, as we learn from Jesus Christ himself.

Occasional Causes produce not their Effect by their own Efficacy, but by the Efficacy of the General Cause. 'Tis likewise by the Efficacy of the Power of God, that the Soul of Jesus Christ operates in us, and not by the Efficacy of Man's Will. 'Tis for this Reason that St. Paul represents Jesus Christ as praying to his Father without Intermission: For he is obl [...]g [...]d to Pray, in order to Obtain.

Occasional Causes have been establish'd by God for the determining the Efficacy of his General Wills; and Jesus Christ, according to the Scripture, has been appointed by God, after his Resurrection, to govern the Church which he had purchas'd by his Blood. For Jesus Christ became the Meritorious Cause of all Graces by his Sacrifice: But, after his Resurrection, he entred [...] [Page] the Holy of Holies, as High Priest of future Goods, to appear in the Presence of God, and to endue us with the Graces which he has merited for us. Therefore he himself applies and distributes his Gifts as Occasional Cause, he disposes of all things in the House of God, as a well-beloved Son in the House of his Father.

I think I have demonstrated, in the Search after Truth, that there is none but God who is the true Cause, and who acts by his own Efficacy; and that he communicates his Power to Creatures only, in establishing them Occasional Causes, for the producing some Effects. I have proved, for Example, That Men have no Power to produce any Motion in their Bodies, but because God has establish'd their Wills the Occasional Causes of these Motions: That Fire has no power to make me feel Pain, but because God has establish'd the Collision of Bodies the Occasional Cause of the Communication of Motions, and the violent Vibration of the Fibres of my Flesh the Occasional Cause of my Pain. I may here suppose a Truth which I have proved at large in the Third Chapter of the Second Part of the Sixth Book, and in the Illustration upon the same Chapter, and which those, for whom it was principally written, don't contest. Now Faith assures us, that all Power is given to Jesus Christ, to form his Church:Mat. 28.18▪ All Power is given unto me in Heaven and in Earth. Which cannot be understood of Jesus Christ, as to his Divinity; for as God he has never received any thing: And therefore it is certain, that Jesus Christ, as to his Humanity, is the Occasional Cause of Grace; supposing I have well proved, that God only can act on Minds, and that Second Causes have no Efficacy of their own: Which those ought first to examine who would understand my Sentiments, and give a Judgment of them.

XII. I say farther, that no one is sanctified but through the Efficacy of the Power which God has communicated to Jesus Christ, in constituting him the Occasional Cause of Grace. For if any Sinner were converted by a Grace, whereof Jesus Christ was not the Occasional, but only the Meritorious Cause, that Sinner not receiving his New Life through the Efficacy of Jesus Christ, would not be a Member of the Body of which Jesus Christ is the Head; in that manner explain'd by St. Paul, by these Words of the Epistle to the Ephesians; That we may grow up into him in all things who is the Head, even Christ; from whom the whole Body fitly join'd together, Chap. 4 13, 15, 16. Col. 2.19. and compacted by that which every Joint supplieth, according to the effectual working in the measure of every Part, maketh increase of the Body unto the edifying it self in Love: Which Words not only say Jesus Christ is the Meritorious Cause of all Graces; but likewise distinctly signifie that Christians are the Members of the Body whereof Jesus Christ is the Head; that 'tis in him we increase and live with an entire new Life; that 'tis by his inward Operation, [...], that his Church is form'd, and that thus he has been constituted by God the sole Occasional Cause, who, by his several Desires and Applications, distributes the Graces which God, as the True Cause, showers down on Men.

'Tis on this Account St. Paul says Christians are united to Jesus Christ as their Root; Rooted and built up in him. 'Tis for the same Reason that Jesus Christ compares himself to a Vine,Col. 2.7. and his Disciples to the Branches, that derive their Life from him; I am the Vine, ye are the Branches. On the same Grounds St. Paul affirms, that Jesus Christ lives in us, and that we live in him; that we are rais'd up in our Head; that our Life is hidden with Jesus Christ in God; in a word, that we have already Life Eternal in Jesus Christ. All these, and many other Expressions of like nature, clearly manifest, that Jesus Christ is not only the Meritorious, but also the Occasional, Physical or Natural Cause of Grace; and that as the Soul informs, animates, and consummates the Body, so Jesus Christ diffuses through his Members, as Occasional Cause, the Graces he has merited to his Church by his Sacrifice.

For my part, I cannot see how these Reasons can be call'd in question, or upon what Grounds a most edifying Truth, and as ancient as the Religion of Jesus Christ, can be treated as a dangerous Novelty. I grant my Expressions are novel, but that's because they seem to me the fittest of all others distinctly to explain a Truth, which can be but confusedly demonstrated by Terms very loose and general. These words, Occasional Causes, and Natural Laws, seem necessary to give the Philosophers, for whom I wrote this Treatise of Nature and Grace, a distinct Understanding of what most Men are content to know confusedly. New Expressions being no farther dangerous than involving Ambiguity, or breeding in the Mind some Notion contrary to Religion; I do not believe that Equitable Persons, and conversant in the Theology of St. Paul, will blame me for explaining my self in a particular manner, when it only tends to make us Adore the Wisdom of God, and strictly to unite us with Jesus Christ.

First OBJECTION.

XIII. 'Tis Objected against what I have establish'd, That neither Angels nor Saints, of the Old Testament, receiv'd Grace pursuant to the Desires of the Soul of Jesus, since that Holy Soul was not then in Being; and therefore, though Jesus Christ be the meritorious Cause of all Graces, he is not the Occasional Cause which distributes them to Men.

As to Angels, I Answer, That 'tis very probable Grace was given them but once: So that if we consider things on that side, I grant, there is nothing can oblige the Wisdom of God to constitute an Occasional Cause for the Sanctification of Angels. But if we consider these blessed Spirits as Members of the Body whereof Jesus Christ is the Head, or suppose them unequally supplied; [Page] there's all Reason to believe the Diversity of their Graces must proceed from him who is the Chief of Angels as well as Men, and who under that Character has merited by his Sacrifice all the Graces which God has given his Creatures, but has variously applied them by his different Desires.

It being undeniable, that Jesus Christ, long before his Birth, or Meriting, might be the Meritorious Cause of the Graces given to the Angels, and Saints of the Old Testament; it ought, methinks, be granted, that by his Prayers he might be the Occasional Cause of the same Graces, long before they were demanded. For indeed there is no necessary Relation between Occasional Causes, and the Time of Production of their Effects; and though commonly these sort of Causes are follow'd by their Effects at the Time of their Action, yet their Action being not of it self efficacious, since its Efficacy depends on the Will of the universal Cause, there's no necessity of their actual Existence for the producing their Effect.

For Instance: Suppose Jesus Christ at this present time should desire of his Father, that such a Person might receive such a Supply of Grace, at certain Moments of his Life, that Prayer of Jesus Christ would infallibly determine the Efficacy of the General Will God has of saving all Men in his Son. This Person will receive these Assistances, though the Prayer of Jesus Christ be pass'd, and his Soul actually think on another thing, and never think again on that which he requir'd for him. But the past Prayer of Jesus Christ is no more present to his Father than a future. For all that must happen in all Times, is equally present to God. Thus God loving his Son, and knowing he shall have such Desires, with respect to his Ancestors, and those of his own Nation; and likewise to the Angels which must enter into the Spiritual Edifice of his Church, and constitute the Body whereof he is the Head, ought to accomplish the Desires of his Son, before they were made, that the Elect which preceded his Nativity, and which he purchas'd by the Merit of his Sacrifice, might as peculiarly belong to him as others, and that he might be their Head, as really as he is ours. I acknowledge it is fit that Meritorious and Occasional Causes should rather precede their Effects, than follow them, and that Order would have Causes and their Effects exist together: For 'tis plain that all Merit ought to be instantly recompenc'd, and every Occasional Cause actually to produce its Effect, provided nothing hinders b [...]t it may or ought be done. But Grace being absolutely necessary to Angels and Patriarchs, could not be deferr'd. But as for the Glory and Reward of the Saints of the Old Testament, since that might be deferr'd, 'twas fit that God should suspend its Accomplishment till Jesus Christ should ascend into Heaven, be constituted High Priest over the House of God, and begin to exercise the Sovereign Power of Occasional Cause of all Graces merited by his Labours upon Earth. Therefore we are to believe that the Patriarchs entred not Heaven, till after Jesus Christ their Head, Mediator, and Fore-runner.

But though it should be granted, that God had not appointed an Occasional Cause for all the Graces afforded the Angels and Patriarchs, I see not how it can be thence concluded, that Jesus Christ does not at present endue the Church with the Spirit which gives it Increase and Life▪ that he does not pray for it, or that his Prayers or Desires are not effectually heard; in a word, that he is not the Occasional Cause which applies to Men the Graces he has merited. I grant, if you'll have it so, that God, before Jesus Christ gave Grace by particular Wills; the Necessity of Order requiring it. Whilst by Order, the Occasional Cause could not be so soon establish'd, and the Elect were very few in Number. But now, when the Rain of Grace falls, not as heretofore on a small Number of Men, but is shower'd on all the Earth, and Jesus Christ may, or ought, be constituted the Occasional Cause of the Goods which he has merited for his Church, what reason is there to believe God works so many Miracles as he gives us good Thoughts? For, in short, all that is done by particular Wills, is certainly a Miracle, as not being a Result of the General Laws he has ordain'd, whose Efficacy are determin'd by Occasional Causes. But how can we imagine, that, in order to save Men, he works so many Miracles useless to their Salvation? I would say, affords them all these Graces which they resist, because not proportion'd to the actual Force of their Concupiscence.

St. John teaches us, That Christians receive from the Fulness of Jesus Christ Graces in abundance:Joh. 1.17. For, says he, the Law was given by Moses, but Grace and Truth came by Jesus Christ. For indeed, the Graces which preceded him were not comparable to those he distributed after his Triumph: If they were Miraculous, we are to suppose they were extremely rare. Even the Grace of the Apostles, before the Holy Spirit was given them, could not come in comparison with those they receiv'd when the High Priest of future Goods, having entred by his Blood into the Holy of Holies, had obtain'd by the Force of his Prayers, and sent, through the Dignity of his Person, the Holy Spirit, to animate and sanctifie his Church. The unaccountable Blindness of the Jews, their gross and carnal Notions, their frequent Relapses into Idolatry, after so many Miracles, sufficiently manifest their disregard for true Goods; and the dispiritedness of the Apostles, before they had received the Holy Ghost, is a sensible Proof of their Weakness. So that Grace in those Days was extremely rare, because our Nature in Jesus Christ was not yet establish'd the Occasional Cause of Graces:Hebr. 4. Hebr. 7.16, 17. Jesus Christ was not yet fully consecrated Priest, after the Order of Melchisedech; nor had his Father given him that Immortal and Glorious Life, which is the particular Character of his Priesthood. For 'twas necessary that Jesus Christ should enter the Heavens, and receive the Glory and Power of Occasional Cause of true Goods, before he sent the Holy Spirit, according to the Words of St. John, The Holy Ghost was not yet given, because that Jesus was not yet glorified: Joh. 16.7. And according to others of Jesus Christ himself, It is expedient for you [Page]that I go away; for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I go, I will send him unto you.

Now it cannot be imagin'd, that Jesus Christ, consider'd as God, is the Head of the Church; as Man, he has obtain'd that Quality. The Head and Members of a Body must be of the same nature. Jesus Christ, as Man, intercedes for Men; as Man, he receiv'd from God a Sovereign Power over his Church: For as he is God, he intercedes not; as God, he has not receiv'd a Name, which is above every Name; but he is equal to the Father, and absolute Lord of all things by right of Generation. These Truths are evident, as we are assur'd by Jesus Christ himself, who says, that his Father has given him power to judge Men, because he is the Son of Man. So we ought not to think, that Scripture Expressions, which make Jesus Christ the Author of Grace, must be understood of him, consider'd in his Divine Person: For if so, I confess I should not have prov'd him the Occasional Cause, since he would be the True Cause of it. But whereas it is certain, that the Three Persons of the Trinity are equally the True Cause of Grace, because all the External Operations of God are common to them all, my Proofs are undeniable, since Holy Scripture says of the Son, and not of the Father, or the Holy Spirit, that he is the Head of the Church; and that in this Capacity he communicates Life to the constituent Members of it.

Second OBJECTION.

XIV. 'Tis God who gives the Soul of Jesus Christ all the Thoughts and Motions relating to the Formation of his Mystical Body. So that if on one hand the Wills of Jesus Christ, as Occasional or Natural Causes, determine the Efficacy of the General Wills of God; on the other, 'tis God himself who determines the several Wills of Jesus Christ. And thus it comes to the same thing: For, in brief, the Volitions of Jesus Christ are always conformable to those of his Father.

I grant that the particular Volitions of the Soul of Jesus Christ are always conformable to the Wills of his Father; not as if there were any particular Wills in the Father, which answer to those in the Son, and determine them; but only, that the Volitions of the Son are always conform'd to Order in general, which is the necessary Rule of the Will of God, and of all those who love him. For to love Order, is to love God; 'tis to will what he wills; 'tis to be Just, Wise, Regular, in our Love. The Soul of Jesus desires to form, to the Glory of his Father, the largest, most sumptuous, and accomplish'd Temple possible. Order demands this, since nothing can be made too great for God: All the several Thoughts of this Soul, perpetually intent on the Execution of its Design, proceed likewise from God, or the Word, to which it is united: But its various Desires are certainly the Occasional Cause of these various Thoughts; for it thinks on what it wills.

Now these diverse Desires are sometimes entirely free; and probably the Thoughts which excite them, do not invincibly determine the Soul of Jesus Christ, to apply her self to the Means of executing them. For, in brief, 'tis equally advantageous to the Design of Jesus Christ, whether it be Peter or John that causes the Effect which the Regularity of his Work requires. 'Tis true, the Soul of Jesus is not indifferent in any thing that relates to his Father's Glory, or that Order necessarily demands, but is entirely free in all the rest; there is nothing extraneous to God, which invincibly determines his Love. Thus we ought not to wonder if Jesus have particular Wills, though there be not the like Wills in God to determine them.

But let it be granted, that the Volitions of Jesus Christ are not free, and that his Light invincibly carries him to will, and to will always in a determinate manner, in the Construction of his Church: But it is Eternal Wisdom to which his Soul is united, that must determine his Volitions. We must not for that Effect suppose Particular Wills in God: But all the Wills of Jesus Christ are Particular, or have no Occasional Cause to determine their Efficacy, as have those of God.

For the Soul of Jesus Christ having not an infinite Capacity of Thinking, his Notices, and consequently his Volitions, are limited. Therefore his Wills must needs be Particular, since they change according to his diverse Thoughts and Applications: For probably the Soul of Jesus Christ, otherwise imploy'd in Contemplating, and tasting the infinite Satisfactions of the True Good, methinks, ought not, according to Order, desire at once to think on all the Ornaments and Beauties he would bestow upon his Church, nor on the different Ways of executing each of his Designs. For Jesus Christ desiring to render the Church worthy of the infinite Majesty of his Father, would gladly perfect it with infinite Beauties, by Ways most conformable to Order. He must then constantly change his Desires; there being but one infinite Wisdom, who can fore-see all, and prescribe himself General Laws for the executing his Designs.

But the future World being to subsist eternally, and to be infinitely more perfect than the present, it was requisite that God should establish an Occasional Cause, Intelligent, and Enlightned by Eternal Wisdom, to remedy the Defects which should unavoidably happen in the Works that were form'd by General Laws. The Collision of Bodies, which determines the Efficacy of the General Laws of Nature, is an Occasional Cause, without Understanding and Liberty; [Page] and therefore 'tis impossible but there must be Imperfections in the World, and Monsters produc'd, which are not of such account as that the Wisdom of God should descend to remedy them by Particular Wills. But Jesus Christ being an Intelligent Occasional Cause, illuminate with the Wisdom of the Word, and susceptible of Particular Wills, according to the particular Exigencies of the Work he forms; 'tis plain that the future World will be infinitely more perfect than the present, that the Church will be without Spot or Wrinkle, as we are taught by Scripture; and that it will be a Work most worthy of the Complacency of God himself.

To the Intent that now unto the Principalities and Powers in Heavenly Places might be known by the Church, the manifold Wisdom of God, Eph. 3.10.'Tis in this manner that Eternal Wisdom renders, as I may say, to his Father what he had taken from him. For not permitting him to act by Particular Wills, he seem'd to disable his Almighty Arm: But becoming incarnate, he so brings it to pass, that God acting in a manner worthy of him, by most Simple and General Laws, produces a Work, wherein the most Illuminate Intelligences cannot observe the least Imperfection.

PROOFS founded on REASON.

XV. Having demonstrated, by the Authority of Scripture, that the diverse Motions of the Soul of Jesus Christ are the Occasional Causes which determine the Efficacy of the General Law of Grace, by which God would have all Men sav'd in his Son; 'tis necessary to shew in general, by Reason, that we are not to believe God acts in the Order of Grace by Particular Wills. For though by Reason, separate from Faith, it cannot be demonstrated, that God has constituted the Wills of Man-God the Occasional Causes of his Gifts; yet it may, without Faith, be shewn, that he distributes them not to Men by Particular Wills; and that in two manners, a priori, and a posteriori; that is, by the Idea we have of God, and by the Effects of Grace: For there is nothing but serves to prove this Truth. First, then, for the Proof of a priori.

A wise Being ought to act wisely. God cannot deny himself: His Ways of acting ought to bear the Character of his Attributes. Now God knows all, and foresees all; his Understanding has no Bounds: Therefore his manner of acting ought to bear the Character of an Infinite Intelligence. But to make Choice of Occasional, and to establish General Laws, for the executing any work, manifests a Knowledge infinitely more comprehensive, than to change Volitions every moment, or to act by Particular Wills. Therefore God executes his Designs by General Laws, whose Efficacy is determin'd by Occasional Causes. Certainly there is a greater Extent of Thought requir'd to make a Watch, which, according to the Rules of Mechanicks, goes regularly of it self, whether it be carried about with us, or hung up, or shaken, as we please, than to make one which can go well no longer than he that made it is continually changing something in it, according to the Situations it is put in: For when there is a greater Number of Relations to be compared and combined together, there is required a greater Understanding. An infinite Prescience is requisite to foresee all the Effects which will happen in consequence of a General Law; and there is nothing of all this to be foreseen, when the Wills are chang'd every moment. Therefore, to establish General Laws, and to choose the most simple, and at the same time the most exuberant, is a manner of acting worthy of him whose Wisdom has no Bounds. And, on the contrary, to act by Particular Wills, shews a straitned Understanding, and which cannot compare the Consequences or Effects of the least fruitful Causes. The same Truth might farther be demonstrated a priori, by some other Attributes of God, as by his Immutability; by which M. Des Cartes proves, That every Body tends to move in a right Line, that there is always the same Quantity of Motion in the World, and other Truths. But these Truths a priori, are too abstract to convince the Generality of Men of the Truth advanc'd. It is more to the Purpose to prove it by the Marks I have given before, to distinguish Effects produced by Particular Wills from those which are the necessary Consequences of some General Law.

God, being infinitely Wise, neither wills nor does any thing without Design or End. But Grace falls often on Hearts so dispos'd, as to frustrate his Operation; and therefore falls not on them by a Particular Will, but only by a necessary Consequence of General Laws, for the same Reason that Rain falls on the Sands and in the Sea, no less than on Seed-Grounds.

XVI. Though God may punish Sinners, or make them more miserable than they are, he can have no Design of making them more culpable and criminal; which yet is an Effect of Grace, and God knows certainly, that, according to their actual Dispositions, the Graces he bestows will have that calamitous Event. Therefore Graces are not shed on corrupt Hearts by a Particular Will of God, but by a necessary Consequence of General Laws, establish'd for the Production of the best Effects; by the same Reason that on some Occasions too abundant Rains corrupt and putrifie the Fruits of the Earth, though God by his General Will causes it to rain, to make them thrive.

XVII. If God was minded that some Lands should continue barren, he need but have ceas'd to will that the Rain should water them. So if God purpos'd that the Hearts of some Sinners should remain hardned, as it would be sufficient for the Rain of Grace not to water them, he [Page] need but leave them to themselves, and they would corrupt fast enough. Why must we attribute a Particular Will to God, to make so cruel and unhappy use of the Price of his Son's Blood? But many others will say, God, in giving Grace to Sinners, has never that Design; and this, doubtless, seems more reasonable. But if God gives his Grace by a Particular Will, he has some Particular Design; and whereas Grace has that sad Effect, God is frustrated in his Expectation, since he gave it with a Design, and that a particular one, of doing good to a Sinner. For I speak not here of the Graces, or rather Gifts, explain'd by St. Paul, in the 12th. Chapter of his First Epistle to the Corinthians: I speak of the Grace which God gives for the Conversion of him it is given to, and not of those Gifts God bestows on some for the Profit of others; such as are the Gifts of Prophecy, of Discernment of Spirits, of Speaking diverse Tongues, of Healing the Sick, and the like.

XVIII. When the Rain falls in such excess, that the Floods extirpate the Fruits of the Earth, we ought to conclude this Rain comes by a necessary Consequence of the General Laws God has establish'd for better Effects. Yet it is certain God may have appointed it by a Particular Will. For God, for the Punishment of Men, may will, that the Rains ordain'd to fecundate the Earth, may make it barren, on some Occasions. But it is not so with the Rain of Grace, since God cannot dispense it with Design of punishing Men, much less of making them more culpable and criminal. Thus 'tis much more certain that the Rain of Grace falls by General Wills, than that the common Rains do so; yet most Men can easily believe, that Rains are the necessary Consequences of the General Laws of the Communication of Motions; whilst there are few but find some Reluctancy in believing God gives us by General Wills all these Motions of Graces, whose Effects we our selves prevent.

There's great likelihood this Disposition of Mind naturally grows from our thinking God acts almost like our selves, and that he has on all Occasions Particular Wills for all Men, in something resembling those Desires we have for our Friends. For though we outwardly confess, that there is an infinite Difference between God's way of acting, and our own; yet since we ordinarily judge of others, with relation to our selves, without considering; few Persons seriously consult the Idea of an Infinitely Perfect Being, when they would speak of God. And because there is some Air of Novelty in what I say, it creates a sort of Pain in the Mind, which is reasonably mistrustful of what is not common and ordinary.

I have a particular Honour and Esteem for all those who, in Matter of Religion, have a secret Aversion for all Novelties: When this is the Motive which induces them to oppose my Opinions, they give me no Offence; and whilst their Prejudices are legitimate, though they should give me hainous Provocations, I should preserve a Respect for them. For their Disposition of Mind is infinitely more reasonable than that of others, who fall foul upon all that bears the Character of Novelty. Nevertheless, as I believe that we are bound to love and search out Truth with all our Strength, and communicate it to others, when we believe we have found it; I think that, supposing the Doctrines of Faith undeniable, we may, and even ought endeavour, to confirm them, and recommend them to the Reception of all Men. I might vindicate this Opinion, by the Conduct of the Fathers, and by the Authority of St. Austin, who frequently exhorts to the clear Discovery and Understanding of those Truths, which we already believe in the Obscurity of Faith. But I don't suppose there are any so irrational as to find fault with my Conduct, however prejudiced against my Opinions. Wherefore I intreat those, who will be at the Pains of reading what I have written, not to suppose me in an Errour, but to suspend their Judgment, till they have well understood my Opinion; and not to condemn me in General Terms, nor draw too hastily from my Principles unwarrantable Conclusions.

In Matters so obscure as those of Grace, the Advantage is always on the side of the Aggressor; and 'tis not just to make use of it to the Defendant's Prejudice: He should judge equitably, and without Prepossession compare all the Consequences deducible from the several Opinions, that he may embrace that which seems most agreeable to the Goodness and Wisdom of God. For 'tis unreasonable to condemn an Opinion unexamin'd, for some unhappy Consequences, which Men never fail to infer from it when the Imagination is scar'd, and the Mind possess'd with contrary Notions.

XIX. I know, for Example, that some Persons have said, I make all Prayers useless, and rob Men of the Confidence they ought to have in God; since, in their Notions, God acting by General Wills, we must not expect particular Supplies from Heaven. I confess, if this sole Consequence were included in my Principles, they would be false, heretical, and impious: For we overturn Religion, if we take from Men their due Hope and Confidence in God; and 'tis partly on that very account I cannot admit of those Mens Opinions which are most opposite to my manner of Reconciling Grace with Liberty. But so far are my Principles from leading to Despair, that, on the contrary, they give the Righteous, and even Sinners, Consolation, in shewing them the Means of obtaining of God the things they stand in need of.

For, if we are Righteous, our Prayers are meritorious; and if meritorious, Order requires that they should be heard; and Order being with God a Law, infinitely more inviolable than any other establish'd for the Construction of his Work, he never fails to do what Order prescribes him. Therefore the Prayers of the Righteous are never ineffectual; which is what I have establish'd in the XIX. Section of the Second Discourse.

[Page]But if we are Sinners, 'tis certain our Prayers are of themselves in vain; for God hears not Sinners,1 Joh. 2.1. Mat. 9.15. Joh. 11.42. Order will have it so: Nevertheless we must not despair: We have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous. He came into the World to save Sinners: His Prayers are constantly and most readily heard. Let us pray in his Name, or address our selves to him. Our Prayers will sollicite him to form some Desires relating to us; and his Desires are the Occasional Causes which infallibly determine the General Law of Grace, by which God wills the Salvation of all Men in his Son. This is what I have maintain'd at large in the Second Discourse. Thus I am so far from depriving Men of the Confidence they ought to have in God, that, on the contrary, I precisely shew, by the Authority of Scripture, the way we ought to take for the obtaining of God the Graces that we want. Therefore I pray my Readers to do me the Justice of Examining my Opinions, without Prevention; and I am willing they should afterward judge of them according to their Light and Knowledge. For I submit all my Thoughts, not only to the Censure of the Church, which has Right to make me quit them by an Authority, which I shall be ever ready to defer to; but also to the Judgments of all Particular Persons, by whose Admonitions I shall endavour to profit.

The END.

[Page]

Information about this book

Title statement

Father Malebranche his treatise concerning the search after truth The whole work complete. To which is added the author's Treatise of nature and grace: being a consequence of the principles contained in the search. Together with his answer to the animadversions upon the first volume: his defence against the accusations of Monsieur De la Ville, &c. relating to the same subject. All translated by T. Taylor, M.A. late of Magdalen College in Oxford.

Malebranche, Nicolas, 1638-1715.

Edition statement

1700

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2005-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A51674

ID [STC]

Wing M318

ID [STC]

ESTC R3403

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99834098

ID [PROQUEST]

99834098

ID [VID]

38583

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This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A51674)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 38583)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 2108:06)

Source

— Father Malebranche his treatise concerning the search after truth The whole work complete. To which is added the author's Treatise of nature and grace: being a consequence of the principles contained in the search. Together with his answer to the animadversions upon the first volume: his defence against the accusations of Monsieur De la Ville, &c. relating to the same subject. All translated by T. Taylor, M.A. late of Magdalen College in Oxford., Malebranche, Nicolas, 1638-1715., Taylor, Thomas, 1669 or 70-1735., Malebranche, Nicolas, 1638-1715. Traité de la nature et de la grace. English.. The second edition, corrected with great exactness. With the addition, of A short discourse upon light and colours, by the same author. Communicated in manuscript to a person of quality in England: and never before printed in any language..

Extent

[12], 40, 168, 8, 159, 170-196 p. : ill.

Printed by W. Bowyer, for Thomas Bennet at the Half-Moon, and T. Leigh and W. Midwinter at the Rose and Crown, in St. Paul's Church-yard,. London :: 1700.. (A translation, by Thomas Taylor, of: Malebranche, Nicolas. Recherche de la vérité.) (Another "second" edition has "D. Midwinter" in imprint.) (Text continuous despite pagination.) ("A treatise concerning nature and grace" has divisional title page, and separate pagination and register.) (Reproduction of the original at the Union Theological Seminary Library, New York.)

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