The Idiot IN FOUR BOOKS. The first and second of Wisdome. The third of the Minde. The fourth of statick Experiments, Or experiments of the Ballance.

By the famous and Learned C. Cusanus.

LONDON, Printed for VVilliam Leake, and are to be sold at the signe of the Crowne in Fleet-street, betweene the two Temple Gates, 1650.

THE FIRST BOOK
wherein The speakers are • TheAuthour. , • TheIdiot. , and • TheOrator. 

Author.

IN the Roman forum or Mar­ket place, a certaine poore Idiot, or private man, met a very rich Oratour, whom courteously smiling he thus spoke unto.

Idiot.

I marvell of thy pride, that be­ing wearied with continuall reading of innumerable bookes, thou art not yet[Page 2]led to humility: without doubt this proceedes from nothing else, but that the knowledge of this world, (wherein thou thinkest thou excellest all other) is a certaine foolishnesse before God, and thereupon pusses men up, whereas true knowledge humbles them; I could wish thou wouldest apply thy self there­to, because there is the treasure of glad­nesse.

Oratour.

What presumption is this of thee poore Idiot & utterly ignorant, that thou thus undervaluest the study of learning, without which no man pro­fiteth or advanceth himselfe.

Idiot.

It it not presumption great O­rator, but charity which will not suf­fer mee to keep silence; for I see thee gi­ven to seeke wisdome, by much; but vaine labour, from the which if I could call thee backe, so that thou thy selfe mightest see thine errour, I know thou wouldest rejoyce that the snare were broken, and thy selfe escaped; the opinion of authority hath perverted thee, and made thee like an horse, which being free by Nature, is by art tyed to the Manger with a halter, where he [Page 3]eats nothing but what is given him; for thy understanding being bound to the authority of writers is fed with strange, and not naturall food.

Oratour.

If the food of wisdome be not in the bookes of wise Men, where is it ?

Idiot.

I doe not say it is not there, but that the naturall food is not there found; for they that first applyed themselves to write of Wisdome, had not their increase and nourishment from the food of bookes, which as yet were not: but by a naturall nourishment were brought unto the state of perfect men, and certainly they did far exceed in wisdome all those that thinke they have profited by bookes.

Orator.

Although peradventure, some things may be knowne without the study of Letters, yet difficult and great matters can­not possibly, seeing that sciences increased by additions.

Idiot.

This is that I said, that thou art led by authority, and so deceived; some body hath written this and thou believest him; but I say unto thee, that wisdome cryeth out in the streets, and her cry [Page 4]is how she dwelleth in the highest.

Orat.

By that which I heare, it seemes thou thinkest thy selfe wise being indeed an Idiot.

Idiot.

This is, it may be, the differ­ence betweene thee and mee; thou think­est thy selfe wise, when thou art not, and hereupon art proud; but I know my self an Idiot; and hereupon am more hum­ble, and in this peradventure more learned.

Orator.

How canst thou being an Idi­ot, be brought to the knowledge of thy igno­rance?

Idiot.

Not by thy bookes, but Gods books.

Orator.

Which are they?

Idiot.

Those which he wrote with his own finger.

Orator.

Where are they to be had?

Idiot.

Every where.

Orator.

Then in this market place.

Idiot.

Yes, for I said that wisdome cries out in the streets.

Orator.

I would faine know how.

Idiot.

If I could see thee desirous to learne, and yet not out of curiosity, I would reveale great matters unto thee.

Orator.

But canst thou doe it in brief,[Page 5]that I may have a taste of thy meaning?

Idiot.

I can.

Orator.

Let us then withdraw our selves a little out of the way, into this next barbers shop; there we may sit and talke more qui­etly.

Aut.

It pleased the Ideot, and so in they went, and turning their faces to the market place, the Ideot thus began his Speech.

Idiot.

Because I told thee that wise­dome cries out in the streets, and her cry is, that she dwells in the most high pla­ces, this now will I endeavour to shew thee. And first tell me what doest thou see here done in the Market place?

Orator.

I see in one place moneyes telling, in another wares a weighing, and over a­gainst us, oyle a measuring, and other things.

Idiot.

These are the workes of that reason, by which men excell beasts; for bruit beasts can neither number, weigh, nor measure. Now be well advised Ora­tor, and tell me by what, and in what these things are done.

Orator.

By discretion or discerning.

Idiot.

Thou saist well; and by what[Page 6]things doth discretion number? Is it not by one?

Orator.

How meanest thou?

Idiot.

Is not one once one? two twice one? three thrice one, and so forward?

Orator,

It is so.

Idiot.

Therefore all numbering is done by one.

Orator.

So it seemes.

Idiot.

As then one is the beginning of Number, so is the least weight the be­ginning of weighing; and the least mea­sure the beginning of measuring. Let therefore the least weight be cal'd an ounce, and the least measure an inch; then, as we number by one, so we weigh by an ounce, and measure by an inch; so also from one is numbering, from an ounce weighing, and from an inch mea­suring; so likewise in one is number­ing, in an ounce weighing, and in an inch measuring; are not these things so?

Orator.

Yea.

Idiot.

But by what may we attaine or reach unto unity? by what an ounce? and by what an inch?

Orator.

That I cannat tell, yet sure I am that unity is not reached by number, because[Page 7]number is after one; so neither an Ounce by weight, nor an inch by measure.

Idiot.

Thou saist very true Orator; for as that which is simple is in nature before that which is compound; so the compound is in nature after the simple. And therefore the compound cannot measure the simple, but quite contrary; from whence we gather how that by which, of which, and in which, eve­ry thing numerable is numbred, is not attingible by any number: and that by which, of which, and in which, every thing ponderable is weighed, is not at­tingible by weight; and likewise that by which, of which, and in which, every measurable thing is measured, is not at­tingible by measure.

Orator.

This I see clearly.

Idiot.

Translate then this cry of wis­dom in the streets into the highest where wisdome dwells, and thou wilt finde much more delectable things, then in all thy trimest and bravest books.

Orator.

Ʋnlesse thou, expound thy mea­ning, I understand thee not.

Idiot.

And unlesse thou intreate me af­fectionately, and from thy heart, I am[Page 8]forbidden to do it, for the secrets of wisdome must not be opened to all men promiscuously.

Orator.

I much desire to beare thee; for the few things I have already heard have in­flam'd me; the things which thou hast pre­mised, show some great matter behinde; there­fore I earnestly beseech thee goe forward with that thou hast begun.

Idiot.

I know not whether I may easi­ly reveale so great secrets, and make manifest so profound a depth; yet I can­not forbeare, but that I must needs comply with thee. Behold brother, the highest wisdome is this, to know how in the said similitude, that which is in­attingible, may be reached, or attained inattingibly.

Orator.

Thou speakest wonders and dis­cords.

Idiot.

This is the cause, why hidden things ought not to be communicated unto al, because when they are laid open they seem gross absurdities unto them: Thou woundrest why I speak things that contradict one another; thou shalt hear and taste the truth. And I say, that what I have before affirmed of Unity, an[Page 9]ounce, and an inch, must likewise be af­firmed of all things concerning the be­ginning of all things; for the beginning of all things, is that by which, in which, and of which, every thing principiable, is principiated (that is every thing that may have a beginning, hath a begin­ning) and yet attingible by nothing principiated. That is it, by which, in which, and of which, every intelligible thing is understood, and yet it selfe in­attingible by any understanding, that is it by which, in which, and of which, every thing that may be spoken, is said, and yet it selfe unspeakeable by any lan­guage. So is it that by which, in which, and of which, every terminable thing is determined, and every limitable thing limited, and yet it selfe interminable by any terme; unlimitable by any limite. Innumerable such like true propositi­ons maiest thou make, and fill therewith all volumes of Orators, and adde unto them others without numbers that thou may see how wisdome dwelleth in the highest; for that is highest, that cannot be higher; and only infinity is that hight. Whereupon wisdome (which all men[Page 10]by nature desire to know, and conse­quently seeke for with so great affection of the minde) is no otherwise knowne, then that it is higher then all knowledg, and utterly unknowable, and unspeak­able, by all language, and unintelligible by all understanding, and unmeasurable by all measure, and unlimitable by all limits, and interminable by every term, and improportionable by every propor­tion, and incomparable by all compa­rison, and infigurable by all figuration, and unformable by all formation, and unmoveable by all motion, and unim­aginable by all imagination, and in­sensible by all sensation, and unattract­able by all attraction, and untastable in all taste, and unhearable in all hearing, and invisible in all sight, and unappre­hendable in all apprehension, and unaf­firmable in all affirmation, and undeni­able in all negation, and undoubtable in all dubitation, and unopinable in all opinion; and because in all speech it is unexpressible, there can no end be devi­sed of these speeches, being incogitable in all cogitation by which, in which, and of which are all things.

Orator.
[Page 11]

Without doubt these things are higher then ever I hoped to have heard from thee; cease not I pray thee, to conduct me thi­ther, where I with thee may most sweetly taste some of these high and sublime speculations: for I see thou art never satisfied with spea­king of that wisdome, and I cannot but think there is exceeding sweetnesse in it, which ex­cept thou feltest in thy inward taste, it would not so much allure thee.

Idiot.

It is wisdome which tasteth, then which there is nothing sweeter to the understanding. Neither are they by any meanes to be thought wise, which speake by word and not by taste. And they speake feelingly of wisdome, which by it doe so know all things, that they know nothing at all; for by wisdome, and in it, and of it, is all internall reli­shing and taste; but it, because it dwelleth in the highest, is not tastable by any re­lish or taste. Therefore it is untastably tasted, inasmuch as it is higher then all tastable, sensible, rationall, or intellectu­all. And this is to taste untastably, and afarre of, as if the smelling a thing should be call'd an untastable fore-taste; for as the odour multiplyed from the[Page 12]thing that is odorable, taken or received by another, allureth us to the race, to runne to the oyntment in the smell of the oyntments; so the eternall and infi­nite wisdome shining in all things, in­viteth us, by a certaine foretaste of its effects, to be carried to it with a woun­derfull desire: for whereas life it selfe is an intellectuall spirit, which hath in it selfe a certaine con-nate fore-taste, whereby it doth, with so great desire, search for the fountain of its life which without that fore-taste, it could neither feeke nor know it selfe to have re­ceived, if it found it; hence it is, that it is moved to its proper life; for it is sweet unto every spirit continually to ascend to the principle or beginning of life, though it be unapprochable; for this is continually to live more & more happily, to ascend more and more to life; and when by seeking its life, it is brought thither, that it sees it the infinite life, then it somuch more rejoyceth, by how much more it sees its life immortall, & so it comes to pass, that the unapprochable­nesse and incomprehensibility of its life, is its most desired and longed for com­prehension, as if a man had a great trea­sure [Page 13]of his life, and should come to this, that he knew that treasure of his to bein­numerable, unweighable, and unmea­surable, this knowledge of the incom­prehensibility is his most pleasant and wisht for comprehension, not as it relates to the comprehendor, but to the most lovely treasure of his life; as if any man should love any thing because it were lovely, he would be glad, that in the lovely there should be found infinite and inexpresible causes of Love. And this is the lovers most joyfull comprehenti­on, when he comprehends the incom­prehensible lovelinesse of the thing be­loved; for he would not so much rejoyce to love any second loved object, that were comprehensible, as when it ap­peares unto him that the lovelinesse of the thing beloved is utterly unmeasura­ble, undeterminable, and wholly incom­prehensible. This is that I may so say the joy-joyfullest comprehensibility of in­comprehensibility.

Orator.

Peradventure I understand thee; thou shalt judge whither I doe or no; for this seemes to be thy intention, that our beginning by which, in which, and of which, we are and are moved, is then tasted by us, as the be­ginning,[Page 14]middle, and end, when its vital sweetnesse is untastably tasted by the affection, and incomprehensibly comprehended by the un­derstanding; and that he that goes about by way of taste to taste it, and comprehensibly to comprehend it, is utterly without either taste or understanding.

Idiot.

Thou hast rightly understood mee, Orator; for therefore they that thinke wisdome nothing else then that which is by the understanding compre­hensible, and happinesse nothing else then that which is by them attingible, are farre from true eternall, and infinite wisdome, but are turned to that which is finite, finding a certaine determinable rest, where they thinke the gladnesse of life to bee, but it is not. Hereupon fin­ding themselves deceived, they are in tor­ment, because where they thought hap­pinesse was, unto which they turned themselves with all their power, there they finde sorrow and death; for infinite wisdome is the never fayling food of life, of which our spirit lives eternally, which can love nothing but Wisdome and truth, for every understanding de­sires being; its being is living, its li­ving[Page 15]is understanding, its understanding is to be fed with wisdome and truth, whereupon it followeth that the under­standing which tasteth not clear wis­dome, is as an eye in darknesse; for it is an eye, but it sees not, because it is not in the light, and because it wants the de­lightfull life which is in seeing, it is therefore in paine and torment, and this is death rather then life; so the under­standing being turned to any other thing then the food of eternall wisdome, shall finde it self without or besides life, wrap­ped up in the darkeness of ignorance, ra­ther dead then alive; and this is the in­terminable torment, that the understan­ding should have a being, and yet never understand; for it is onely the eternall wisedome in which every understanding can understand.

Orator.

Thou tellest me things both good and rare, now proceede I pray thee, to shew how I may be lifted up to some manner of taste of eternall wisdome.

Idiot.

The eternall wisdome is ta­sted in every tastable thing; it is de­light in every delightfull thing. It is the beauty in every thing beauteous. It is the[Page 16]appetite in everyappetible thing, & so say of all desirable things, how can it choose then but be tasted? is not thy life pleasant to thee when it is according to thy desire.

Orator.

Yes, nothing more?

Idiot.

Seeing then this thy desire is not but by the eternall wisdome, in which and of which it is, and this happy life likewise, which thou desirest is not but from the same eternal wisdome, in which it is, and without which it cannot be, hence it followeth that in all the desire of intellectuall life, thou desirest nothing else then the eternall wisdome, which is the complement of thy desire, the be­ginning, middle, and end thereof. If therefore this desire of immortall life, that thou mayest live eternally happy, be sweet unto thee, thou doest already finde within thy selfe a certaine fore-taste of the eternall wisdome; for there is no­thing desired that is utterly unknowne, as among the Indians there are apples, whose foretaste because we have not, we do not desire them; but being we cannot live without nourishment; nourishment we desire, & of nourishment we have a cer­taine fore-taste that we may live sensibly; [Page 17]therefore a childe having a certaine fore-tafte of milke in his own nature, when he is hungry is moved unto milke; for we are nourished, by those things of which we are. So the understanding hath its life from the eternall wisdome, and of that it hath (such as it is) a certaine fore-taste, whereupon in all feeding, which, that it may live, is necessary unto it, it is not moved but to be fed from thence, from whence it hath this intel­lectuall being. If therefore in all thy de­sire of intellectuall life thou wouldest marke from whom the understanding is, by what it is moved, and to what; thou wouldest finde in thy selfe, that it is the sweetnesse of eternall wisdome, which makes thy desire so sweet and delightfull unto thee, that thou art carried with an unspeakeable affection to the compre­hension of it, as unto the immortality of thy life.

And if thou looke upon the example of iron, and the load-stone, thou shalt finde that the iron hath in the load-stone a certaine beginning of his effluence, or flowing out; And whilest the load-stone, by its presence stirres up the heavy and[Page 18]ponderous iron, the iron with a wonder­full desire is carryed contrary to the mo­tion of nature by which for its heavinesse it ought to presse downwards, & is mo­ved upwards by uniting it selfe to its principle: for except there were in iron a certaine naturall fore-taste of the load-stone, it would no more be moved to the load-stone than to any other stone; and except there were in the stone a greater inclination to iron than to copper there would not be that attraction and draw­ing.

Our intellectuall spirit hath accor­dingly from the eternall wisdome, a principle or beginning of being so in­tellectually, which being is more con­formable unto wisdome, than any o­ther not intellectuall being. Hence the irradiation or immission into a holy Soule, is in the stirring up a desirefull motion: for he that by an intellectuall motion seeketh wisdome, he being in­wardly touched to the fore-tasted sweet­nesse, forgetting himselfe, it is received in the body, as if he were without the bo­dy; the weight of all sensible things can­not hold him untill he unites himselfe to[Page 19]the attracting wisdome: and this makes the soule that by an amazing admirati­on forsakes the sense, growes so mad that it makes no account of ought else besides that wisdome, and to such a one it is sweete to leave this world, and this life, that they may the more readily be carried into the wisdome of immorta­lity.

This foretaste makes that which ap­peareth delightfull, abominable to ho­ly men, who the sooner to attaine unto it, do most evenly and patiently beare all corporall torments. It instructeth us, that this our spirit being turned unto it, can never faile; for if this our body can­not by any sensible ligament or tie, hold the spirit? but that letting go all perfor­mance of dutyes to the body, it is most greedily carried to that eternall wise­dome; then surely though the body faile, it can never faile; for this assimi­lation and likenesse, which is naturally in our spirit, by which it is not quieted but in that wisdome it selfe, is, as it were, the lively image thereof; for the image is not quieted but in that whereof it is the image, and from which it hath[Page 20]the beginning, midst, and end; now the living image, by its life, doth of it selfe put forth motion towards the Sampler, in which onely it resteth; for the life of the image cannot rest in it selfe, being but the life of the life of truth, and not its owne; hereupon it is moved to the sampler, as to the truth of its being. If therefore the sampler be eternall, and the image have life in which it fore-tasteth its sampler, and so be desirefully moved unto it; and seeing that motion if it be vitall or lively, cannot reft but in the in­finite life, which is eternall wisdome; hence it followeth, that that spirituall motion can never cease which doth never infinitely reach or touch infinite life; for it is alwaies with a most pleasant de­sire moved to reach it, which because of the delightfulnesse of the attraction is never loathed; for wisdome is the most s;avoury meat, which so satisfieth, that it never diminisheth the desire of taking it, so that the delight of that eternall feed­ing never ceaseth.

Orator.

I doe assuredly understand that thou hast very well spoken: onely I see there is a great deale of difference betweene the taste[Page 21]of wisdome, and whatsoever can be said of the sense of tasting

Idiot.

Thou saist right, and it pleaseth me well to have heard this word from thee, for as all knowledge of the taste of that thing which was never tasted, is e­mpty and barren, untill the sense of ta­sting do reach it; so likewise of this wis­dome, which no man tasteth by hearsay, but he onely tasteth which receives it in his internall taste, and he beares wit­nesse, not of those things he hath heard, but which he hath experimentally tasted in himselfe. To know the many descriptions of love which the Saints have left unto us, without the taste of love, is but a certaine emptinesse. Where­fore for him that seekes eternal wisdome, it is not sufficient to know those things which are read of it; but it is very neces­sary, that having found by his under­standing where it is, he then make it his owne, as he that hath found a field, wherein there is a great treasure, cannot rejoyce in or enjoy that treasure, being in another mans and not his owne field; therefore he selleth all and byeth that field, that he may have the treasure in his[Page 22]owne field; he must then sell, and give a­way all his owne things; for the eternall wisdome will not be had, but where the haver kept nothing of his owne, to the end he might have that; and that which we have of our owne, are our vices; and that which we have of the eternall wis­dome, are nothing else but good things. Wherefore the spirit of Wisdome dwel­leth not in a body subject to sinnes, nor in an evill willing soule. But in his own pure field and sapientiall clean image, as in his holy temple; for where the eternall wisdome dwels, there is the Lords field, bearing immortall fruit; for it is the field of vertues which wisdome tilleth, from whence growe the fruits of the Spirit, which are Righteousnesse, Peace, Forti­tude, Temperance, Chastity, Patience and such like.

Orator.

Thou hast abundantly explained these things; but now answer me I pray thee, is not God the beginning of all things?

Idiot.

Who doubts it.

Orator.

Is the eternall wisdome any thing else but God?

Idiot.

Farre be it we should say it is any thing else. It is God.

Orator.
[Page 23]

Did not God forme or create all things by his word?

Idiot.

He did.

Orator.

Is the Word God?

Idiot.

It is.

Orator.

Is wisedom so?

Idiot.

To say that God made all things in wisdome, is no more to say, then that that God created all things by his word; but consider how all that is might be, and might so be, and is, and God that gives it the actualnesse of being, is he with whom there is power by which the thing might be produced from not being to being; and he is God the Father, which may be called Entity or Unity, because he doth by his omnipotence ne­cessitate that to be which was nothing; for God gives it such a beeing, that it is this, (as heaven for example) and nothing else; neither more nor lesse. And this God is the word, the wisedom, the son of the Father; and may be cal­led the equality of Unity, or Entity. Then there is a being; and being so uni­ted, that it is, and this it hath from God, which is the connection knitting all things together; and it is God the holy [Page 24]Spirit, for it is the Spirit that unites and knits together all things in the univers, and in us. As therefore nothing begets unity but it is the first principle not principiated; or the first beginning not begun; so nothing begets the Father who is eternall; and equality proceeds from (or is begotten of) unity: so the son from the Father; and the knot or bond proceedeth from unity and its e­quality; so the holy spirit from the Fa­ther and the sonne; wherefore every thing, that it may have being, and such a beeing in which it is, hath need of a unitrine principle; namely of God three and one, of whom there might much more be said, if the time would give leave: the wisedome therefore which is the equality it selfe of being is the word or reason of things; for it is as an infi­nite intellectuall forme; for the forme gives to the thing that it is form'd. There­fore an infinite forme is the actuality of al formable things & formes, and the most precise equality of them all; for as if there were an infinite circle, it would be the true samplar of all figurable figures, and the equality of the being of every fi­gure;[Page 25]for it would be a triangle, an hex­agone, a decagone & so forth; & the most adequate measure of them all, though a most simple figure; so infinite wisedome is simplicity, complicating all formes & the most adequate measure of them all, as if the most perfect Idea of omnipotent art should be the art it selfe, and most simple forme of every thing formable by art. So that if thou looke upon the form of a man thou shalt finde the forme of the divine art, the most precise samp­ler thereof, as if it were nothing else at all; then the sampler of the forme of a man; so if thou looke to the forme of Heaven, and turn thy selfe to the forme of the divine art, thou shalt not be able to conceive it any other thing then the sampler of this forme of Heaven. And so of all formes form'd or formable. The art or wisedome of God the Father, is the most simple forme, and yet the on­ly and most equall example of infinite formable formes; although vari­able. O how admirable is that forme whose most simple infinity all formable formes cannot explicate, or shew the uttermost of? And he onely, that by a most sublime understanding, lifteth[Page 26]himselfe above all opposition, sees it to be most true; as if any man would marke the naturall force which is in a unity, he should see that power, if he would con­ceive the same to be in act, as a cetaine forme visible by the understanding on­ly, and that afarre of; and because the power of a unity would be most simple, it must needs be a most simple infinity. In the next place, if the fame man would turne himselfe to the forme of numbers in considering a duality a or a tennality, and would then return to the actuall power of a unity, he should see that forme which is put to be the actuall power of the unity, to be the most precise samplar of duality, tennality, or any other nu­merable number; for this would the infi­nity of that forme doe (which is called the power of unity) that whilest thou lookest to duality, that forme can be nei­ther greater nor lesse, then the forme of duality, whereof it is the most precise samplar.

Thus thou seest that one and the same simple wisedome of God, because it is infinite, is the most true samplar of all formable formes; and this is his reach­ing,[Page 27]by which he reacheth all things, boundeth or limiteth, and disposeth them; for it is in all formes as the truth in the image; the samplar in the thing exemplified; the forme in the figure, and precisenesse in assimilation or like­nesse; and although it doe most liber­ally communicate it selfe to all things a being infinitely good; yet can it be re­ceived in nothing as it is, because in a­nother thing it is otherwise received. And being it cannot be received in any thing, but after another manner, it is yet received after the best manner that may be; but unmultipliable infinity is better explicated in a various reception; for great diversity doth better expresse unmultipliablenesse; from whence it is that wisedome being in divers formes di­versely received, brings it to passe that every forme called to Identity is parta­ker of wisedome, as well as it can; that some things partake it in a certain spirit exceedingly distant from the first forme, which scarce gives an elementall being; others in a more formed spirit, which gives a minerall being; others in a yet more noble degree, which gives a vege­table[Page 28]life; others in a higher, which gives a sensible life; after that in such a one as gives an imaginative power; then a rati­onall, and lastly, an intellectuall life; and this is the highest degree that is, the nearest image of wisedome. And this onely is the degree that hath aptitude or fitnesse to lift it selfe up to the taste of wisedome; be­cause in those intellectuall natures, the image of wisedome is the live­ly intellectuall life; the power where­of is of it selfe to show or put forth a vitall motion; which mo­tion is by understanding to go for­ward to its proper object; which is absolute truth, that is eternall wisedome; and that going foreward being to uunderstand, is also to taste intellectaully; for to apprehend by the understanding, is by a certaine most welcome taste as well as it can, to attains and reach to quid­dity; for as by the sensible taste which reacheth not the quiddity, yet in outward things there is a cer­taine pleasant sweetnesse perceived by the sense, which sweetnesse is[Page 29]from the quidditie: So by the un­derstanding there is tasted in the quidditie an intellectuall sweetnesse, which is the image of the sweetnesse of the eternall wisedome, which is the quidditie of quiddities, and an un­proportionable comparison of one sweetnesse to another.

Let these things that have beene said, suffice for this short time, that thou mayest know that wisedome is not in the art of oratory, or in great volumes, but in the separation from these sensible things; and in the turn­ing to the most simple and infinite forme; and that thou mayest under­stand how to receive it in a Temple purg'd from all vice, and by fervent love to cleave unto it, untill thou mayest taste it, and see how sweet that is which is all sweetnesse, which being once tasted, all things which now seeme great, will grow vild and base unto thee; and thou wilt be so humbled, that no arrogance, or any other vice will remaine in thee; be­cause with a most chaste and pure heart thou wilt inseparably adhere[Page 30]unto wisedome once tasted; choo­sing rather to forsake this world, and all things else that are not it, then it; and living with unspeakeable gladnesse, thou wilt dye; and after death eternally rest in it by a most amorous embracement; which the ever blessed wisedome of God it selfe vouchsafe to grant both to thee and mee. Amen.

The end of the first booke of the Idiot.

The second Booke of the Idiot.
Wherein the Speakers areThe Author. , • The Idiot. , and • The Oratour. 

Author.

IT happened that the Romane Oratour, after the words he had heard from the Idiot concerning wisedome, was exceedingly stricken with admiration, and went unto him, whom when he had found lurking about the Temple of E­ternity, he thus spake unto him.

Orat.

O man most desired and looked for, help my weaknesse, that I may with some ease feed upon those difficulties which transcend my mind, and understanding: otherwise, it will [Page 32]little avail me to have heard from thee so ma­ny high Speculations.

Id.

There is no difficultie more easie than to contemplate divine things, where the delight coincides with the difficul­tie. But tell me, what is it thou desirest?

Orat.

That thou wouldest tell me how (see­ing God is greater than can be conceived) I ought to frame my conception of him?

Id.

As thou wouldst do of concep­tion.

Orat.

Explain thy self.

Id.

Thou hast heard how in every conception he that is unconceivable is conceived: there comes therefore a con­ception from a conception, to him that is unconceivable.

Orat.

How shall I then make a more pre­cise conception?

Id.

Conceive precision; for God is ab­solute precison it self.

Orat.

What is then to be done by me, when I purpose to frame a right a conception of God?

Id.

Turn thy self unto rectitude or rightnesse.

Orat.

And when I labour to frame a true conception of God, what must I then do?

Id.

Then bend thy mind upon Truth it self.

Orat.
[Page 33]

What if I mean to make a just con­ception?

Id.

Turn thy self to justice.

Orat.

And when I seek to make a good con­ception, what must I then do?

Id.

Lift up the eyes of thy mind unto Goodnesse

Orat.

I wonder whither it it that thou sendest me in all these cases?

Id.

See how easie the difficultie is in divine things, that it always offers it self to the seeker, in the same manner that it is sought for.

Orat.

Without doubt there is nothing more wonderfull.

Id.

Every question concerning God, presupposeth the thing questioned; and that must be answered, which in every question concerning God, the question presupposeth: for God, although he be unsignifiable, is signified in every signi­fication of terms.

Orat.

Declare thy self more at large I pray thee; for I am so transported with wonders, that I can scarce hear what thou sayest.

Id.

Doth not the question, whether a thing be or no, presupprose the Entitie?

Orat.

Yes.

Id.
[Page 34]

Therefore when it is demanded of thee, whether God be, (or whether there be a God?) answer that which is presup­posed, namely that he is; because that is the Entitie presupposed in the question. So, if any man shall ask thee, what is God? considering that this questi­on presupposeth a quidditie to be; thou shalt answer, that God is absolute quid­dity it self. And so of all things. Nor need there be any hesitation or doubt in this; for God is the absolute presuppo­sition it self, of all things, which (after what manner soever) are presupposed, as in every effect the cause is presupposed. See therefore, Oratour, how easie Theo­logicall difficulty is.

Orat.

Certainly, this is a very, grrat and yet a stupendious facility.

Id.

Nay, I say unto thee, that God is infinite facility it self and it doth not a­gree to God that he should be infinite difficulty; for it must needs be (as thou shalt hear anon of crooked and straight) that difficulty passe into facility, if it ought to agree to the infinite God.

Orat.

If that which in every question is presupposed, be in divine matters an answer[Page 35]unto the question: then of God there can be no proper question, because the answer coincides with it.

Id.

It is a very good inference; and add unto it, that God being infinite straight­nesse, and absolute necessity, a doubtfull question reacheth not him, but all doubt is in him certainty; whence we also in­fer, that any answer unto any question concerning God, is not a proper and precise answer; for precision is not more than one and infinite, which is God: for every answer partakes of the absolute answer, which is infinitely precise. But what I said unto thee, how that in The­ological questions, the presupposed is the answer, must be understood in the same manner that the question is made, and so taking it, this is sufficiencie; be­cause whereas in God, neither the que­stion, nor the answer to the question, can reach precision: therefore after the manner wherein the question approach­eth to precision, in the same manner the answer presupposeth.

And this is our sufficiencie which we have of God, knowing that precision in­attingible, cannot by us be reached, but[Page 36]after some manner that partakes the manner of absolute precision. Among the which, being divers and manifold, that partake the onely manner of preci­sion, the foresaid manner comes near­est unto absolute facility, and is our suffi­ciency, because we cannot reach any o­ther which is easier and truer.

Orat.

Who would not be amazed at the hearing of these things? For whereas God is absolute incomprehensibility, thou sayest that comprehension comes so much the nearer unto him, by how much the manner thereof doth more partake of facility.

Id.

He that doth with me behold how absolute facility coincides with absolute incomprehensibility, cannot choose but say as I do. Whereupon I do constantly affirm, that by how much the universal manner to all questions formable of God shall be more easie, by so much more true, and more convenient it is, as position (or affirmation) agrees to God.

Orat.

Make this somewhat more plain.

Id.

That is, as we admit some things may be spoken of God affirmatively: for in that Divinity which denies all things of God, we must speak otherwise; be­cause[Page 37]there the truer answer is to every question, a negation: yet by that means or manner, we are not led to the know­ledge what God is, but what God is not.

There is moreover a consideration of God, as neither position, nor ablation (that is neither affirmation nor negati­on) agrees unto him, but as he is above all position and ablation; and then the answer is, to deny affirmation, negation and copulation. As in case it should be demanded, Whether God be? according to the way of position, it must be an­swered out of that which is presupposed, to wit, that he is, and that the very abso­lute presupposed Entity: Bat accord­ing to the way of ablation (or negati­on) it must be answered, that he is not: when by that way, none of all those things that may be spoken, can agree to him that is unspeakable. But by the way, which is above all position and ablati­on, it must be answered, that he is nei­ther, to wit, absolute Entity; nor that he is not, nor both together (namely that he is and is not) but that he is above all. And now I think thou understand­est what I mean.

Orat.
[Page 38]

I understand now that thou would­est say, that in words using divinity, where we admit speeches of God, and the power of lan­guage is not utterly excluded, there thou hast brought the sufficiency of difficult things, into the facility of the manner of forming truer Propositions concerning God.

Id.

Thou hast well apprehended it; for if I would lay open unto thee, the con­ception which I have of God, my speech, if it must stand thee in stead, must needs be such as hath significative words, that so in the power of the word, which is alike known unto us both, I may lead thee to that which is sought; and that which is now sought, is God. And there­fore this is Sermocinal, or word-using Divinity, whereby I endeavour, by the power of language to lead thee to God, the easiest: and truest way that I can.

Orat.

Let us now, I pray thee, return to those things that were formerly premised by thee, and explain thou them in order. In the first place thou saidest, that the conception of conception (seeing God is the conception of con­ception) is the conception of God. Now, is it not the mind which conceiveth?

Id.

Without the mind there is no con­ception.

Orat.
[Page 39]

Seeing then to conceive belongs to the mind, certainly, to conceive an absolute conception, is nothing else but to conceive the Art of the absolute mind.

Id.

Go on, for thou art in the way.

Orat.

But the art of the absolute mind, is no other thing then the form of all things for­mable; So I see how the conception of concep­tion is nothing else but the conception of the Idea of divine Art. If I say the truth, tell me so.

Id.

Thou speakest exceeding well; for absolute conception can be nothing else but the Ideal form of all things which can be conceived, which is the equality of all things formable.

Orat.

This conception, as I think, is cal­led the word of God, or the reason ( [...].)

Id.

Howsoever it be called by learned men, in that conception are all things. As we say, that those things which with­out reason foregoing, come not into be­ing, are formerly in reason; and all things which we conceive to be, have a reason of their being, that they may be after the manner in which they are, and no otherwise. Therefore he that looks with a profound mind, into the simpli­city[Page 40]of absolute reason, which by way of priortity, complicates all things in it self, he makes a conception of concepti­on by it self, or absolute conception: and this was the first thing that I premi­sed.

Orat.

Enough of this: now go on to shew how the conception of absolute precision, it a more precise conception of God.

Id.

I am not now at leisure to repeat the same thing in every particular: nei­ther do I see it to be so seasonable for thee, considering that by one, the way is opened for thee to all.

But take it notwithstanding, very brief­ly Precision, straightnesse, truth, justice & goodnesse (of which thou hast heard) are the same thing: Yet do not beleeve that I mean, as all divinity is circular, one of the attributes verified of another; as we say, that from the necessity of Gods infinite simplicity, the greatnesse of God is his power, and back again, his power is his greatnesse: and so of all those things that are by us attributed to the essence of God. But these things of which I now speak, we find by experience, do coincide in our ordinary talk. For[Page 41]when we hear any body expresse a thing as it is indeed, presently one sayes that the expresser did it precisely, another rightly, another truly, another justly, another well. And thus we find it true in our dayly speech. Neither doth he who said he did it precisely and rightly, mean any other thing, then he that said he expressed it truly, justly, and well. And this thou grantest in thy self to be true, when thou markest how he that said neither more nor lesse than he ought to have said, hath reached and at­tained to all those; for precisenesse is no more to say than that which is nei­ther more nor lesse. In the same manner neither right, nor true, nor just, nor good, admit either more or lesse; for how can that be precise, right, true, just, or good, that is lesse than precise, right, true, just, and good? And if that which is lesse than precise, be not pre­cise, and lesse than right, be not right, and lesse than true, be not true, and lesse than just, be not just, and lesse than good, be not good; it is manifest, as well that which admitteth more, is none of these: for precision which admitteth more, to[Page 42]wit, which can be more precise, is not absolute precision. And so of right, true, just, and good.

Orat.

In those things then, that admit more or lesse, there is no conception to be form'd concerning God.

Id.

Thou inferrest very well; for see­ing God is infinite, those things that ad­mit of more or lesse, are not like unto him. Wherefore in those things, one cannot ascend or descend into infinity, as we find by experience in number, and the division of a continued quantity.

Orat.

Therefore in this world there is no precision, nor rightnesse, nor truth, nor justice, nor goodnesse, being we prove by tryal, that one thing is more precise than another, as one picture is preciser than another. So of right­nesse; for one thing is righter than another, and one thing is truer than another, and one thing juster than another, and one thing bet­ter than another.

Id.

Thou conceivest me well; for those things as they are absolute, and free from more or lesse, are not of this world. For there is nothing to be found so precise, that it cannot be preciser: and nothing so straight, that cannot be[Page 43]straighter: or so true, that cannot be truer: or so just, that cannot be juster: or so good, that cannot be better. That pecision therefore, that rightnesse, truth, justice, or goodnesse, which are to be found in this world, are certain partici­pations of such absolutes, and images, of which those others are the samplars: samplars, I say, in the plural number, whilest we refer them to the divers rea­sons, and forms of divers things; but they are indeed but one samplar, because they coincide in that which is absolute.

Orat.

I long extreamly to hear thee concern­ing this point, how there it but one absolute samplar of so great varieties of all things.

Id.

He that is but little conversant in these Theological Speculations, think­eth this to be exceeding difficult: but to me there seemeth nothing more easie and delightfull; for the absolute sam­plar, which is nothing but absolute pre­cision, rightnesse, truth, justice, or good­ness, complicates al exemplifiable things of which there can be any precision, rightnsse, truth, justice, and goodnesse, much more perfectly then thy face com­plicates all the formable images there­of, [Page 44]of all which it is the precision, rightnesse, and truth; for all the ima­ges of thy face, which may be painted, are so far forth precise, right, and true, as they partake and imitate the living image of thy face. And although it be not possible that one of them should be painted just like the other, in all respect, without any manner of difference, seeing precision is not of this world, and that which is another thing, must needs be after another manner: yet of all those truths there is but one samplar.

Orat.

Thou speakest well, as to the unity of the samplar, but not to the equality: For my face, although it be the measure of the Truth of the picture, because the picture is judged by the beholding of my face, how much, or how little it fails in the likenesse; yet it is not true, that my face is the most adaequate measure of them all, by every manner of mea­sure; because it is alwayes either great­er or lesser.

Id.

Thou sayest true of thy face; be­cause it hath quantity, and being capa­ble of more or lesse, it cannot be precisi­on, neither the adequate measure of ano­ther thing. For in this world wanting [Page 45]precision, & adequate measure; & like­nesse is impossible. But if thou conceive an absolute samplar, it is otherwise; for that is neither great nor small, for these things cannot be of the reason (or for­mality) of a samplar: for a Pismire being to be painted, is a samplar as well as a mountain that is to be painted, and so back again: therefore an absolute samplar, that is not capable of more or lesse, being precision and truth, cannot be either greater or lesse, than the exem­plified: for that which cannot be lesse, we call the least, and that is most little; and that which cannot be greater, we call the greatest, that is the most great. Absolve therefore or free maximity or greatestnesse from that which is most little, or most great, that thou mayest see maximity in it self, and not con­tracted in small or great, and thou shalt so see absolute maximity, before great and little, so that it cannot be greater or lesse, but is the greatest, in which the least coincides. Wherefore such a greatest as it is the absolute sam­plar, cannot be either greater or less than any exemplified thing possible to be gi­ven;[Page 46]and that which is neither greater nor, lesse, we call equal. Therefore the absolute samplar is equality, precision, measure, or justice, which is the same thing, truth and goodnesse, which is the perfection of all exemplifiable things.

Orat.

Yet further, I pray thee, instruct me, how infinity doth agree with absolute rect­itude, or rightnesse?

Id.

Very willingly: Thou knowest that by how much greater any circle is, so much greater is the Diameter there­of.

Orat.

I confesse it.

Id.

Well then, though a circle, which is capable of more and lesse, cannot be simply the greatest, or infinite; yet let us suppose such a circle to be infinite, shall not then the Diameter thereof be an infinite line?

Orat.

It must of necessity be so.

Id.

And the circumference being infi­nite shall be the Diameter; for two infi­nites cannot be, seeing each of them, by the addition of the other, may be great­er. And the circumference it self could not be crooked, for it were impossible it[Page 47]should be neither greater nor lesse than the Diameter, if it were crooked; See­ing there is one and the same habitude (or proportion) of the crooked circum­ferences of all circles to the Diameter, which is a habitude more than triple or threefold. If therefore the circumfe­rence be equal to the Diameter, it shall also be the Diameter it self and a right line. For this caus also thou seest, how the Arc of a great circle, is liker to a right line than the Arc of a little circle: And therefore by this reason, the cir­cumference of an infinite circle, must needs be right or straight: whence it is manifest, that crookednesse which is ca­pable of more or lesse, is not found in the infinite, but onely rightnesse or straightnesse.

Orat.

The things thou speakest do much please we, because they do very easily lift me up to that which I seek: proceed, I pray thee, to shew, how infinite straightnesse or rightnesse is the samplar.

Id.

This thou clearly discernest by thy self, that infinit rightnesse hath it self so (or is of the same habitude) to all things; as an infinite line, if there were[Page 48]any such, hath it self to all figures; for if infinite rightnesse, which is necessarily absolute, were contracted to a line, be­ing contracted, it must needs be found the complication, precision, rightnesse, truth, measure and perfection of all fi­gurable figures. Therefore absolute rightnesse being considered absolutely, and uncontractedly to any line, or any other thing whatsoever, is likewise ab­solutely the samplar, precision, truth, measure and perfection of all things.

Orat.

These things are no wayes subject to doubt, onely shew how an infinite line is the precision of all figures; thou toldest me Yesterday, how an infinite circle is the sam­plar of all figures, and I understood it not, and willing to be more clearly informed of it, I came unto thee again, and now thou sayest an infinite line is precision, which I lesse under­stand.

Id.

Thou hast heard how an infinite line is a circle, so a triangle, quadran­gle, Pentagone; so all infinite figures co­incide with an infinie line. Hereupon, an infinite line is the samplar of all fi­gures which can be made of lines; be­cause an infinite line is an infinite act or [Page 49]form of all formable figures. And when thou lookest upon a triangle, and liftest thy self up to an infinite line, thou shalt find it the most adequate samplar of this triangle; after this maner consider an in­finite triangle, this infinit triangle is nei­ther greater nor lesse than the aforesaid triangle. For the sides of an infinite trian­gle are infinite, and an infinite side being the greatest, in which the less coincides, is neither greater nor lesse than the given side. So then the sides of an infinite tri­angle, are neither greater, nor lesse than the sides of the given triangle. So nei­ther the whole triangle is greater or lesse than the given triangle; wherefore it must needs be, that an infinite triangle is the precision, and absolute form of a finite triangle. But the three sides of an infinite triangle, must of necessity be one infinite line; because there cannot be many infinite lines: So it would come to passe, that an infinite line is the most precise samplar of the given triangle: and as I have said of a triangle, so likewise of all figures.

Orat.

O wonderfull facility of difficult things! I see now that all these things do[Page 50]most evidently follow the position (or granting) of an infinite line; namely, that it is the sam­plar, precision, rectitude, truth, measure or justice, goodnesse or perfection of all figures, fi­gurable by a line. And I see that in the sim­plicity of its straightnesse, all things figurable, are complicitely, most truly, formally, and pre­cisely, without all confusion, or defect, infinite­ly more perfectly than be they can figured.

Id.

Blessed be God, who hath used me, a most ignorant man, as an instru­ment, such as it is, to open the eyes of thy mind for the beholding him with admirable easinesse, after the manner that he hath made himself visible unto thee; for when thou transferrest thy self from straightnesse contracted to a line, to ab­solute infinite straightnesse, then in that straightnesse thou shalt see complicated, every thing formable, and the kinds of all things, as I have said before of figures. And thou shalt further see, how straight­nesse it self is the samplar, precision, truth, measure or justice, goodnesse or perfection of all things, which are or can be; and the precise and unconfoun­ded actuality of all things that are, or are possible to be made; so that to what­soever[Page 51]kind or thing being, thou turnest thine eyes, if thou lift up thy mind to infinite straightnesse, thou shalt find it the most precise, and no way defective exemplar truth thereof. As put the case thou see a man, which is straight, and a true man, thou shalt see that he is no­thing else but that straightnesse, truth, measure and perfection, So contracted and terminated is a man. And if thou consider his straightnesse which is finite, and lift up thy self unto infinite straight­nesse, thou shalt straight see how infinite and absolute straightnesse can be neither greater nor lesse than that straightnesse contracted to a man, whereby the man is a straight and true man, but is the tru­est, justest, and best precision thereof. So infinite truth is the precision of finite truth; and absolutely infinite, the pre­cision, measure, truth and perfection of every thing finite. And as we have said of a man, so understand of all things else.

Thus now thou hast that which is granted us to contemplate in eternall Wisdome, that thou mayest behold all things in a most simple rectitude, most[Page 52]truly, precisely, unconfusedly, and per­fectly, though in an Aenigmatical mean, without which the vision of God can­not be in this world, until he shall grant, that without any shadow, he shall be made visible unto us. And this is the fa­cility of the difficult things of wisdome, which according to thy fervour and de­votion, God vouchsafe to make every day more clear both to thee and me, un­till he translate us into the glorious fru­ition of the truth, there to remain eter­nally. Amen.

The end of the Second Book of the Idiot.

The Third Book, concern­ing the Mind.
Wherein the speakers are • The AUTHOUR. , • The PHILOSOPHER. , • The ORATOUR. , and • The IDIOT. 

CHAP. I. How the Philosopher came unto the Idiot to learn something of the nature of the Mind. How the Mind is of it self the Mind, and by its Office the Soul, and hath its name from measuring.

Authour.

WHen many people from every part, flocked to Rome, be­cause of the Jubile, with wonderfull devotion, it was reported that a certain Philosopher, the chiefest of all that then lived, was found [Page 54]upon the bridge, whom the passengers did much admire. A certain Oratour very desirous of knowledge, sought for him carefully, and knowing him by the palenesse of his face, his long robe, and other things that shewed the gravity of a contemplative man, he courteously saluting him, demanded.

Orat.

What cause is it that holds thee fixed in this place?

Phil.

Admiration.

Orat.

Admiration seemes to be the spur of all men that desire to know any thing. And therefore I cannot but imagine, seeing thou art accounted the chief among learned men, that it is some great cause of admiration, that makes thee so attentive.

Phil.

Thou sayest well, my friend; for when I see innumerable people passe by, from almost all climates, in so great presse, I do wonder at so great a Unifor­mity in the faith of them all, in so great diversity of bodies: For though there be no one of them like another, yet there is one faith of them all, which from the ends of the earth, hath brought them hi­ther with so great Devotion.

Orat.

Certainty, it must needs be the gift[Page 55]of God, that Idiots do more clearly see and reach by faith, than Philosophers by reason; for thou knowest how great enquiry he hath need of, that doth by reason handle the im­mortality of the soul, which notwithstanding, there's none of all these that doth not, by faith alone, bold most assured; which makes them take such a deal of care and pains, that after death, their souls may be darkened with no sin, and so taken up into a most bright desired lift.

Phil.

Thou tellest me a great matter, and a true one, O my friend; for I have spent all my time in going about the world, and addressing my self to wise men, that I might be more assured of the immortality of the soul. In as much as the knowledge of a mans self, was, in times past, enjoyned by the Oracle of Delphi, that the mind should know it self, and feel it self conjoyned to the di­vine mind: but to this hour I could ne­ver, by the clearnesse of reason, so per­fectly reach unto that which I desire, as this ignorant people doth by faith.

Orat.

If I may in civility ask, I pray thee tell me, what moved thee, who seemest a Peri­patetick, to come to Rome? doest thou think[Page 56]to find any man here, by whome thou mayest better thy self?

Phil.

I had heard that in this place, out of the Temple in the Capitol, dedi­cated by Titus Attilius Crassus to the mind, there were found many writings of wise men concerning the mind: But I have peradventure lost my labour, un­lesse thou, which seemest to me a good and understanding Citizen, help me.

Orat.

That Crassus dedicated a Temple to the mind, it is certain: but whether there were any books there concerning the mind, and what they were, after so many sackings of Rome, no man can tell. But least thou grieve for thy lost labour, thou shalt hear one that is in my judgement an admirable man, though an Idiot, discourse of what things soe­ver thou, wilt.

Phil.

I pray thee let me, as soon as e­ver thou canst possibly.

Orat.

Follow me then.

Auth.

And when they came near the Temple of Eternity, they went down in­to a little place under ground, and there finding the Idiot making a wooden Spoons, the Oratour thus spake to him.

Orat.
[Page 57]

I am ashamed, Idiot, that thou shouldest be found by this great Philosopher, thus busied about these rustical workes; he will never beleeve that he shall hear any speculati­ons from thee.

Id.

I do willingly imploy my self a­bout those exercises which do continu­ally feed both my mind and my body. And if this man whom thou bringest be a Philosopher, I do not think he will despise me ever the more, for being a Spoon-maker.

Phil.

Thou sayest very well; for even Plato is said to have practised painting between whiles, which it is thought he would never have done, if it had been any hinderance to his contemplation.

Orat.

It may be too, that Plato had from the Art of painting, familiar examples, by which he made great matters very easie.

Id.

So do I, in this my art, symboli­cally enquire and seek for whatsoever I list, and so feed my mind, and then I change my spoons for other necessaries, and refresh my body, and so, as much as is sufficient for me, I get all that I have need of.

Phil.

It is my fashion, when I come to[Page 58]any man that hath the report of a wise man, to be principally, solicitous and carefull of those things that do most trouble me; and to compare writings of the learned one with an other, and to seek out the meaning of them. But thou being an Idiot, I know not how to get thee to speak, or how to occasion some discourse, that I may see what un­derstanding thou hast of the mind.

Id.

I do not think there is any man alive, needs lesse compulsion to speak his mind, than I do; for being that I confesse my self an ignorant Idiot, I ne­ver fear to answer any thing. Learned Philosophers, and such as have the repu­tation of knowledge, deliberate careful­ly, because they have need to fear fal­ling: Therefore if thou wilt plainly tell me, what it is thou wouldest have with me, I shall as plainly answer thee.

Phil.

I cannot in few words expresse my self; if it please you, let us all sit, and talk together.

Id.

It pleaseth me well.

Aut.

And when they had set stools in a triangle, and placed themselves in or­der, thus spake the

Orat.
[Page 59]

Thou seest, O Philosopher, the sim­plicity and plainnesse of this man, that useth none of the Ceremonies ordinary in the enter­tainment of a man of suck worth : now make triall of him in those things which (as thou sayest) do most trouble thee, he will conceal nothing from thee which he knows, and I think thou wilt confesse thou wert not brought hither in vain.

Phil.

All these things please me well: Now let us go to the matter: in the mean time be thou silent, I pray thee, and let not our long discourse seem tedious.

Orat.

Thou shalt find me rather desirous to have you continue your discourse, than as one weary of it.

Phil.

Tell me then, Idiot, for so thou sayest thy name is, if thou hast any con­jecture of the mind?

Id.

I think there is not, nor ever was, any perfect man, that did not frame some conception of the mind, such as it was. I for my part, have a conception, that the mind is the bond and measure of all things; and I conjecture it is cal­led Mens a mensurando, the mind from measuring.

Phil.
[Page 60]

Doest thou think the mind is one thing, and the soul another?

Id.

I do certainly think so; for the mind subsisting in it self is one thing, and in the body another. The mind subsist­ing in it self is either infinite, or the i­mage of the infinite. And of these minds which are the image of the infinite, be­ing they are not the greatest, or absolute and infinite, subsisting in it self, I admit that some may animate humane bodies, and then I grant, that the same are, by vertue of their office, souls.

Phil.

Thou grantest therefore, that the mind and the soul of a man are the same, the mind by its self, the soul by its office?

Id.

I grant it, As the sensitive and see­ing part of the eye, in a living Wight, is one power.

CHAP. II. How there is a naturall word, and another imposed according to it; and how there is a simple beginning, which is the Art of arts; and how the eternal Art of the Philosophers is complicated.

Phil.

THou saidest the mind was so called of measuring; a­mongst all the several deri­vations of the word, I read of no man that holds that point. The first thing therefore I intreat thee is, that thou wouldest open unto me the cause of thy so saying.

Id.

If we must diligently enquire of the power of the word, I am of opinion, that that power, which is in us, and no­tionally complicates all the samplars of things, which we call the mind, is not properly named. For as humane reason reacheth not the quiddity of things, so doth not the name; For words are imposed by the motion of reason: For we call one thing by one name, and for a certain reason; and another thing by[Page 62]another, and for another reason: and one tongue hath proper names, and ano­ther more barbarous and remote; there­fore I see, that where the propriety of names is capable of more or lesse, there the precise name is not known.

Phil.

Thou makest haste to high mat­ters, Idiot; for according to what thou seemest to say, therefore are names [...]esse proper, because they are imposed at plea­sure, as seemed good to every one that imposed them by the motion of reason.

Id.

I would have thee understand me more profoundly than so; for although I confesse, that every name is by the com­ming of the form unto the matter united to the thing, it being true, that the form gives the name, that so names are not from the giver, but from Eternall, and the imposition is free: yet I do not think that there is any other than a con­gruous name imposed, although it be not a precise one.

Phil.

Explain thy self, I pray thee, that I may know what thou meanest.

Id.

Very willingly, and now I turn my self to this art of spoon-making. And first I would have thee know, that I do [Page 63]without any haessitation affirm, that al hu­man arts are certain images of the infinite & divine art, I know not whether it seem so to thee, or no.

Phil.

Thou requirest high matters, and I think it not fit to answer them publickly.

Id.

I wonder if ever thou readest any Philosopher that is ignorant of this, that appears so plainly of it self: For it is manifest that no humane art ever reach­ed the precision of perfection; and that every humane art is finite, and bounded; for one art is bounded or limited in its bounds, and another in anothers, and every one is different from the rest, and no one doth complicate all.

Phil.

What doest thou infer from this?

Id.

That every humane art is finite.

Phil.

Who doubts it?

Id.

And it is impossible there should be many infinite things really distinct.

Phil.

I confesse, that likewise, for the one of them would be bounded, or determined by the other.

Id.

If then this be so, is not the one­ly absolute beginning infinite? For be­fore a beginning there is no beginning,[Page 64]as appears by it self, lest the beginning should be principiated. Therefore Eter­nity is onely infinity it self, or the abso­lute beginning.

Phil.

I admit it.

Id.

Therefore the one and onely ab­solute Eternity is infinity it self, which is without beginning: wherefore every finite principiated thing, is from the in­finite beginning.

Phil.

I cannot deny it.

Id.

Therefore every finite Art is from an infinite Art. And so it must needs be, that an infinite Art is the samplar, be­ginning, middle, end, measure, standard, truth, precision, and perfection of all Arts.

Phil.

Proceed to that which thou ma­kest haste unto; for no man can dissent from thee in these.

Id.

I will therefore, out of this Art of Spoon-making, apply symbolical ex­amples, that the things I shall say, may be made more sensible.

Phil.

I pray thee do so; for I see thou holdest the way to those things after which I labour.

Ant.
[Page 65]

Then the Idiot taking a Spoon in his hand, thus proceeded.

Id.

A Spoon befides the Idea of our mind, hath no other samplar: For al­though a Carver, as a painter, do draw examples from things which he goeth about to figure; yet so do not I that of wood make Spoons, and of clay little dishes and pots. For I do not in these imitate the figure or shape of any natu­rall thing whatsoever: for such forms of Spoons, dishes and pots, are perfected by mans art alone; and therefore my art is rather perfecting than imitating created figures, and in this liker un­to infinite Art.

Phil.

This pleaseth well enough.

Id.

Suppose then that I would expli­cate my art, and make sensible the form of Spoonnesse, by which the Spoon is constituted, which though in its own nature, it be by no sense attingible, as being neither white nor black, nor of any other colour, sound, smell, taste, or touch, yet if I will labour to make it sensible in that manner that it may be done. Where­upon by the divers motions of the instru­ments which I use, I do bore and make[Page 66]hollow the matter, that is wood, untill in it the due proportion arise, wherein the form of spoonnesse doth convenient­ly appear. Whereupon the truth and pre­cision of spoonnesse, which is unmulti­pliable, and incommunicable, cannot by any instrument, or any man be made perfectly sensible. And in all spoons no­thing but the simple form it self, after a divers manner, more in one, and in ano­ther lesse, but in none precisely. And al­though the wood it self takes the name from the comming of the form, that as soon as that proportion ariseth, in which spoonnesse appeareth, it is called a spoon, that so the name may be united to the form; yet the imposition of the name was at pleasure, because another might have been imposed. And though it be at pleasure, yet it is not another, and quite divers, from the natural name united to the form, but the naturall name shines (after the comming of the form) in all the divers names by what­soever divers nations imposed. The im­position of the name therefore is done by the motion of reason; for the moti­on of reason is about things which fall[Page 67]under sense, whose discretion, concor­dance, and difference reason makes. So that there can be nothing in reason, which was not first in sense. So there­fore reason imposeth names, and is mo­ved to give one name to one thing, and another to another. But because the form in its truth, is not found among those things about which reason is con­versant, therefore reason ends it self, and determines in conjecture and opinion. Whereupon generals and particulars, genera & species, as they fall under names, are (Entia rationis) beings of reason which reason made to it self, out of the concordance and difference of sensible things: & in that respect, being by nature after the sensible things whereof they are the similitudes, the sensible things being destroyed, those cannot remain. Who­soever therefore, thinks that nothing can fall into the understanding, that falls not into reason, he also thinks that there can be nothing in the understanding that was not first in the sense, and conse­quently he must necessarily say, that the thing is nothing, but as it falls under a name, and his study is in every inquisiti­on, [Page 86]deeply to search after the quid nominis, quiddity of the name. And this enquiry is very pleasing unto man, because it dis­courseth by the motion of reason. This man would deny that forms in themselvs & in their truth separated, are otherwise thā as they are beings of reasō; & would make no account of samplars, and Ideas.

But they that admit something to be in the intelligence of the mind, which was not either in sense or reason; as for example, The exemplar and incommu­nicable truth of forms which shineth in the sensible things, they say that the samplars or Ideas do by nature, go be­fore the sensible things, as the truth goes before the image; And this order they give, that first, according to the order of Nature, is humanity in it self, and of it self, namely without any praejacent mat­ter, and then man by Humanity, and that he falls under a name, and after­wards the species in reason: and that therefore all men being destroyed, hu­manity as it is a species, that falls under a name, and is a being of reason which reason hath found out, by the sinilitude and likelinesse of men, cannot subsist;[Page 69]for it depended of men which are not; but for all this, that humanity by which men were, doth not cease to be, which humanity falls not under the name of species, as names are imposed by the motion of reason, but is the truth of that species that falls under a name: whereupon though the image be de­stroyed, the truth remains in it self.

And all these deny that the thing is nothing but as it falls under a name; for in that manner as it falls under a name, Logick and reasonable discourse considers of them, and accordingly they do logically enquire into the nature of the thing, and commend this way of so doing; but they rest not there, because reason or Logick is onely conversant about the images of the forms. But they that labour Theologically to look in­to matters beyond the power of the name, turn themselves to samplars and Ideas. And beyond these I think there can no more wayes of inquisition be gi­ven. If thou that art a Philosopher, hast read other, thou mayest peradventure know them; but this I think.

Phil.

Thou doest wonderfully handle[Page 70]all Sects of Philosophers, both Peripa­teticks and Academicks.

Id.

All these, and what differences of wayes soever may be imagined, are easily agreed, when the mind lifts it self up to infinity: For (as this Oratour can more at large inform thee, by what he hath heard of me) the infinite form is the one onely and most simple which shi­neth in all things, as the most adequate samplar of all and every thing formable. Whereupon it shall also be most true, that there are not many separate sam­plars and Ideas of things, which infinite form no reason can reach: therefore being unspeakable, it is not comprehen­ded by all names imposed by the motion of reason. And so the thing as it falls under a name, is the image of its un­speakable, proper, and adequate sam­plar. There is therefore one unspeakable word, which is the precise name of all things, as by the motion of reason they fall under a name; which unspeakable name, after its manner, shineth in all things, being the infinite nominability of all names, and the infinite word of all things possible to be by word expressed;[Page 71]so that every name is the image of the precise name; And this was all which they all laboured to say, though perad­venture it might have been better and clearlier spoken: for they all necessari­ly agreed, that there is one infinite pow­er, which we call God, in which all things must needs be complicated. Nor did he mean any other thing, that said humanity as it fals under a name, is the precision of truth, then that unspeak­able infinite forme, which, while we looke upon the forme of man we call the precise samplar thereof; that so the un­speakable, whilest we look upon the images thereof, may be named by the name of all things, and one most simple samplar according to the specificall dif­ferences of things exemplified, and by our reason formed may seeme to be ma­ny samplars.

CHAP. III. How the Philosophers are to be understood, and accorded; of the name, of God and precisi­on; how one precise name being known, all are known; of the sufficience of things knowable; and how the conception of God, and our conception do differ.

Phil.

THou hast wonderfully ex­plained that saying of Her­mes Trisimegistus, that God may be called by the names of all things and all things by the name of God.

Id.

Do but complicate this word To name, into the coincidence of the high­est, by thy understanding, and all things will be plain: for God is the precision of every thing; and therefore if we had precise knowledge of any one thing, we must necessarily have the knowledge of all things: So if the precise name or one thing were known; then would the names of all things be known, because precision cannot be on this side God. Hereupon he that could reach on preci­sion might reach God, who is the truth[Page 73]of all things that may be knowne.

Orat.

Declare thy self, I pray thee, concer­ning the precision of a name.

Id.

Thou knowest, Orator, how we forge mathemeticall figures out of the power of the minde. And therefore when I would make tryangularity visible, I make a figure, in which I make three Angels, that in that figure so habituated and proportioned, triangularity may appear, whehewith the name is united, which let it be supposed to be a Trigo­nus; I say then if Trigonus be the precise name of a tryangulare figure, then I know the precise names of all polygo­nes, or many corner'd figures; for then I know that the precise name of a qua­drangulare figure ought to be a Tetra­gone; and of a five corner'd figure a Pentagone, and so forward: And by the knowledge of one name, I know the figure named and all polygones that may be named, and the differences and concordances of them, and whatsoever else in this point may be known. In like manner I say that if I knew the pre­cise name of one worke of God, I should know all the names of all the workes of [Page 74]God, and whatsoever might be known; And seeing the name of God is the preci­sion, of every name nameable, it is ap­parant, that in that name alone all and every thing may be knowne.

Orat.

This thou hast after thy fashion pal­pably explained.

Phil.

Thou hast laid down a strange way, Idiot, to accord all the Philoso­phers: for when I seriously consider, I cannot but agree with thee, that their meaning was no otherwise then thou sayest: by this which none of them all could deny, that God is infinite; in which onely saying are complicated all things that thou hast said, won­derfull is this sufficience of all things knowable, or that may be any wise de­livered. Descend more particularly to the treatise of the mind, and say, suppo­sing that the calling of the mind mens, be from the reason of measuring; what wilt thou have the mind it self to be?

Id.

Thou knowest how Divine sim­plicity complicates all things; of this complicating simplicity, the mind is the image: it then thou shalt call this Di­vine infinite simplicity, mind, it shall [Page 75]be the samplar of our mind. If thou call the Divine mind the universality of the truth of things, thou shalt calours the u­niversality of the likenesse of things, that it may be the universality of notions. The conception of the Divine mind, is the production of things, the conception of our mind, the notion of things. If the Divine mind be absolute entity, then the conception thereof is the creation of beings: and the conceptions of our mind the likenesse of beings; for those things that agree to the Divine mind, as to infinite truth, agree to our mind as the nearest image of truth. If all things be in the Divine mind, as in their precise and proper truth; all things are in our mind, as in the image, or si­militude of their proper truth, to wit, notionally; for knowledge is by like­nesse. All things are in God, but there the samplars of things; all things are in our mind, but here the similitudes of things. As God is the absalute entity, which is the complication of all things that are, so our mind is the image of that infinite entity, which is the complicati­on of all images, no otherwise then the [Page 76]first picture of an unknown King, is the samplar of all other copies that are painted according to it: for the know­ledge, or face of God, descends not, but in the mentall nature, whereof truth is the object; and further it descendeth not, but by the mind, so that the mind is the image of God, and the samplar of all the images of God after it self. There­fore look how much all things, after the simple mind, do partake of the mind, so much do they also partake of Gods image; so that the mind of it self is the image of God, and all things after the mind, no wayes but by the mind.

CHAP. IV. How our mind is not the explication, but a certaine image of the eternall complication: how those things that are after the mind are not such an image. How the mind is without notions, and yet hath a conere ate judgement; and why the body it necessary for it.

Phil.

Hou seemest, out of the great fulnesse of thy mind, as though thou meantest, that[Page 77]as the infinite minde is the absolute for­mative power; so the finite minde is the conformative or configurative power.

Id.

I doe indeed for that which is to be said, cannot conveniently be expressed, & therefore is the multiplication of speech very profitable. Now marke further, than an image is one thing, and an explication another; for equality is the image of unitie, for from unitie once ariseth equa­litie. Therefore is equality the image of unitie; yet is not equality but plurality, the explication of unitie : therefore is equally the image of the explication of of unity, not the explication. So doe I meane, that the minde is the most sim­ple image, of the divine minde, amongst all the images of divine complication. And so is the minde the first image of that divine complication, which by his simplicity and power, complicateth all images of complication. For as God is the complication of complications, so the minde which is the image of God, is the image of the complication of com­plications: and after the images, are the plurality of things which explicate the divine complication. As number ex­plicates[Page 78]unity, motion rests, time eter­nity, composition simplicity, time the present, greatness a point, motion a moment, inequality equality, diversity identity, and so of the rest. From hence gather the admirable power of our minde, for in the vertue thereof, is com­plicated the assimulative power of the complication of a point, by which it finds in it self a power, wherein it assimu­lates it selfe to every greatnesse.

So also because of the assimulative pow­er of the complication of unity, it hath power to assimulate it selfe to every mul­titude. And so by the assimulative power of the complication of now or the pre­sent, it hath power assimulate it selfe to all time; and so by the assimulative power of th complication of rests, to all motion; and of simplicity to every com­position, and of identity to all diversity; and of equality to all inaquality, and of conjunctionto every dis-junction. And by the image of the absolute complica­tion, which is the infinite minde, it hath power by which it can assimulate it selfe to every explication: and many such things thou seest of thy selfe, may be [Page 79]said, which our mind hath, because it is a certaine image of the infinite simplici­ty which complicateth all things.

Phil.

It seemeth then, that onely the mind is the image of God.

Id.

So it is properly: because all things that are after, (or beneath) the mind, are not the image of God, but on­ly ly so far forth as the mind shineth, or ap­peareth in them: as it more shineth in perfect living wights, then in imperfect ones; and more insensible things, then in vegetables; and more in vegetables, then in minerals; so that creatures that want the mind, are rather explications, then images of the Divine simplicity: al­though according to the shining or ap­pearing of the mentall image, in expli­cation, they do diversly partake of the image.

Phil.

Aristotle said, there was no no­tion concreate (or made together with) the minder or soul, because he likened it to a smooth and shaven table: but Plato saith, there were notions concreated with it, yet that for the moles and weights of the body , the soul forgot them; what do'st thou thinke to be the truh

Id.
[Page 80]

Undoubtedly our mind was, by God, put into this body, to the profit and advantage thereof; and therefore it must needs have from God all that, with­out which it could not acquire that pro­fit and advantage, it is not therefore cre­dible, that there were notions concrea­ted with the soul, which it lost in the bo­dy: but because it hath need of a body, that the concreated power may proceed unto act. As the visive power of the soul cannot see actually, except it be stirred up by the object; and that cannot be, but by the representing of multiplied specis by then esn of the organ, and so it hath need of the eye. Even so the power of the mind, which is the comprehensive and nationall power, cannot porceed to its opperations, except it be stirred up by sensible things, which it cannot be but by the mediation of sensible phantasmis. Therefore it hath need of an organicall body, and such an one, without which it could not be stired up. In this there­fore, Aristotle seems to have thought a­right, that there are no notions of the soul concreated from the beginning, which it lost by being incorporated. But[Page 81]because it cannot profit, if it want all udgement, as a deaf man can never pro­fit to become a lutenist, because he hath in himself no judgement of harmony, by which he may discerne whether he do profit, therefore our soul hath a concre­ated judgement without which it could not profit. This judging power is natu­rally concreated with the mind, by which, of it self it judgeth whether dis­courses be weak, strong, or concluding. Which power if Plato called a concreat­ed notion, he was not out of the way at all.

Phil.

How clear is thy delivery, which every man that hears, is forced to assent unto. These things must be diligently marked, for we plainly find a spirit in our mind speaking and judging this good, that just, the other true, and re­prehending us, if we decline from the just; which speech and judgement it learned not, and therefore it is connate or concreate.

Id.

By this we prove, that the mind is that power which though it want all notionall form, yet being stired up, can assimilate it self to every form, and make[Page 82]notions of all things: like, after a man­ner, to a sound eye which is in darkness, and never saw the light, for it wanteth all actuall notion of visible things; yet comming into light, and being stirred up, it assimilates it selfe to the thing vi­sible, that it may make a notion.

Ora.

Plato saith, that judgement is then required, when the sence ministers contrary things at once.

Id.

He spake subtilly , for when the touch confusedly finds hard and so ft, or heavy and light, one contrary in another, then there is recourse to the understan­ding, that it may judge of the quiddity of both so confusedly perceived, that there are many things discreet.

So when the sight confusedly sees great and little, is there not need of the discre­tive judgement of the understanding; what is great, and what little? but if the sence were of it self sufficient, there would no recourse be had to the judgements of the understanding, as in the sight of that which is light, when there is nothing pre­sented which is contrary to it.

CHAP. V. How the minde is a living substance, created in the body; and of the manner how; whe­ther ther reason be in bruit beast: and how the living minde is the description of the eter­nall wisdome.

Phil.

ALmost all the Peripateticks say, that the understanding, which thou seemest to call the minde, is a certain power of the Soul; and that to understand is an ac­cident, what sayest thou to it?

Id.

The minde is a living substance, which we finde by experience, doth in­wardly speak and judge in us, and which of all spirituall powers, that we finde in our selves, is more then any other power assimulated and made like to the infinite substance, an absolute forme. The of­fice of the mind in this body, to quick­en it, and from hence it is called the soul; wherefore the minde is a substantiall forme, or a power that after its fastion, complicates in it selfe all things; and by quickning the living soul, whereby[Page 84]it animates the body, complicates the vegetative and sensitive life, and the power discoursive, and intellectual, and intelligible.

Phil.

Wilt thou have the minde, which thou confest to be also the intellectuall soul, to have been before the body, and afterwards incorporated, as Pythagoras, and the Platonists meane?

Id.

In nature, not in time; for I com­pared it, as thou hardest, to the sight in darknesse: now the sight was not actu­ally before the eye, but onely in nature; wherefore because the minde is a cer­taine divine seed, that by its own power, doth notionally complicate the Sam­plers of all things; therefore is it by God (from whom it hath this power, in asmuch as it received its being) at the same time placed, and in a convenient earth, where it may bring forth fruit, and of it selfe notionally explicate the uni­versity of things; otherwise this se­minall power had been given it in vaine, if there had not been given withall, op­pertunity to break into act.

Phil.

Thou speakest weightily. But I much desire to heare how this is done in us.

Id.
[Page 85]

The divine manners or waies, are never to be reached precisely; yet wee make guesses and conjectures of them, some more cleare, and some more darke ones. I thinke this similitude which I will tell thee, sufficient. For thou know­est that the fight by its owne proper na­ture, doth not discern, but in a certaine Globe, and confusedly perceives the ob­ectacle meeting it within the speare of its motion, the eye which objectacle is generated by the multiplication of the species of the object into the eye. There­fore if the sight be present in the eye with out discretion, as in infants, where the use of discretion is wanting, then the minde comes so to the sensible soul, as discretion to the sight, by which it judg­eth between colours. And as this visive disc etion is found in perfect brute living wights, (as in Dogs that know their owne masters by sight) and is by God given unto the sight, as the perfection and forme of seeing; so unto mans na­ture, besides that discretion which is found in bruits, there is given a higher power, that is unto annimall discretion, ust as that is to the sensible power, so [Page 86]that the minde is the forme of the anni­mall discretion, and the perfection there­of.

Phi.

Exceedingly well and sweetly, but me thinks thou drawest somewhat near the oppinion of the wise Philo that said there was reason in beasts.

Id.

We finde by experience that there is in brute beasts a descretive discourse, without which their nature could not well subsist. Whereupon their discourse, (because it wants the forme, namely the understanding or minde) is confused, for it wants judgement and knowledge; and because all discretion is from reason, therefore Philo seemes to have said as he did not without reason, or absurdly.

Phil.

Declare I pray thee, how the minde is the forme of the discoursing rea­son.

Id.

I have already told thee, that as the sight seeth, and knoweth not what it seeth, without discretion to informe, en­lighten, and perfect it, so reason syllo­gyzeth, and knoweth not what it syllo­gizeth without the minde, but the mind enforms, enlightens, and perfects racio­cination or discourse, that may know[Page 87]what it syllogizeth; as if an Idiot, not knowing the power of words should read some booke; reading proceeds from the force of reason, for he readeth by running through the difference of letters, which he compounds and devideth; and this is the worke of reason, and yet bee knoweth not what he reads: and let there be another, which reads and knowes, and understands what hee reads. This is a certaine similitude of reason confused, and reason formed by the minde, for the minde hath the descretive judgement of the reasons, which reason is good, and which is sophisticall: so that the minde is the discretive forme of reasons, as reason is the discretive forme of sen­ces and imaginations.

Phil.

From whence hath the minde this judgement, for she seeme to give judgement of all things?

Id.

It hath it from hence, because it is the image of the Samplar of all things; for God is the Samplar of all things. Therefore whereas the Smplar of all things shineth in the minde, as the truth in the image, it hath in it selfe, that[Page 88]where it looketh, and according to which it giveth judgement of outward things; as if there were a living Law written, that Law (because living) would read in it self the things that are to be judged. Right so the minde is a living descripti­on, of the eternall and infinite wisdome: but in cur minds, from the beginning, that life is like unto one that is a sleepe, untill it be stirred up by admiration, pro­ceeding from sensible things, to be mo­ved then by the motion of its intellectual life, it finds described in it self that which it seeketh. But thou must understand, that this description is a resplendance or shining of the Samplar of all things, af­ter the same manner that the truth shi­neth in its image.

As if the most simple, and indivisible sharpnesse of the corner of a Diamon, ex­ceeding well pollished, (in which the formes of all things did shine) were a­live, then would it by looking into it selfe, finde the similitudes it might frame, notions of all things.

Phil.

Thou speakest very strange and delectable things. This example of the[Page 89]sharp pointed Diamond pleaseth excee­dingly; for by how much more sharp and simple, that corner were, by so much more clearely would all things shine therein.

Id.

He that considers in himselfe the power of a looking glass, how it is be­fore all quantitie, if he conceive it a­live by an intellectuall life, in which the Samplar of all things shineth, may make a tollerable conjecture of the minde.

Phil.

I would hear whether thou canst paradigmatically, apply this thy art to the creation of the minde.

Id.

Yes I can.

Auth.

Then taking a faire spoon in his hand, he said.

Id.

I would make a glazed spoon: I sought out first a wood exceeding hard and close: I applyed my instruments, and I wrought out a convenient propor­tion, in which the form of a spoon did perfectly appear: afterwards I polish'd the surface of it so, that in the shining form of a spoon, I made the forme of a glasse, as thou seest, for though it be a faire spoon, yet withall it is a glazed[Page 90]spoon. For thou hast in it all kind of glasses, namely concave, connext, straight and calumnare, in the base of the handle straight glasse; in the handle it self a co­lumnar; in the concavity of the spoon a concave glasse; and in the convexity a convex one. The glassie form, then, had no temporall being before the spoon, but to the perfection of the spoon, it was by me added to the first form of the spoon that it might perfect it: so that now the specular form containes in it self the form of the spoon, and yet the specular form is independent of the spoon; for it is not of the essence of a glasse to be a spoon. Therefore though the proportions were broken, without which the form of a spoon cannot be; as put case the handle were seperated from it, it would cease to be a spoon; but yet the form of a glasse would not cease to be. Even so God by the motion of the heaven, out of fit mat­ter hath brought a proportion, wherein animality might shine, after a more per­fect manner, whereunto he afterwards added the mind, as a living glasse by the means which I have said.

CHAP. VI. How wise men, in a simbolical kind of speak­ing, have called number the samplar of things; of the wonderful nature thereof. And how it is from the mind, and the incorru­ptibility of Essences. And how the mind is an harmony, a number moving it self, a compisition of the same and that which is divers.

Phil.

THou hast aptly appyed it; and in saying there is one intellect, thou openest how the production of things is: and how proportion is the place, or be, or region of forme; and matter the place of pro­portion. And thou seemest to be much of the opinion of Pythagoras, who held all things to be of or from number.

Id.

Whether I be a Pythagorean or no, I know not; this I am sure of, that no mans authority moves me, though sometimes it offer to do so. But I thinke the Pythagoreans, which, as thou sayest, do Philosophize all things by numbers, very grave and witty men. Nor do I[Page 92]believe that they meant our mathemati­call number, which proceeds from our mind, for it is manifest, that cannot be the beginning of any thing; they speak sym­bolically and rationally, of the number which proceeds from the Divine minde, of which mathematicall number is but the image. For as our mind is in relati­on to that eternall infinite mind; so the number of our mind, to the number of that mind; and we give that number our name, as we give to that mind, the name of our mind; and we are much de­lighted to be conversant in number, as in our own proper worke.

Phil.

Lay open, I pray thee the mo­tives, that may move one to say, that numbers are the beginnings of things.

Id.

There can be but one infinite be­ginning; and this alone is infinitely simple. But the first thing princi­piated, or that hath a beginning, can­not be infinitely simple (as appears by it self) neither can it be propounded of other things compounding it; for then it were not the first thing that had a be­ginning, but the things that compound it, must in nature go before it. We must[Page 93]therefore admit, that the first thing that had a beginning, is so compounded, that yet it is not compounded of other things, but of it self: and our mind can­not comprehend how any such thing should be, except it be number, or as the number of our mind. For number is compounded, and compounded of it self, (for so eaven and odd, is every number compounded) so, number is compound­ed of it self. If thou sayest that the third number is compounded of three unities, thou speakest as though one should say, that the wales and the roof, do severally make an house: for if the wals be a part, and the roof a part, a house is not com­pounded of them, nor more do three u­nities apart, make the number three. Therefore if thou consider unities as they constitute a ternary, thou considerest them united, and that then three unities united are nothing but a ternary; and so it is compounded of it self, and so of all num­bers: Nay that which is more, while in number I looke upon nothing but unity, I see an uncompounded composition of number, and a coinsidence of simplicity and composition, or of unity and multi­tude;[Page 68]yea, if I yet look more sharply in­to it, I see a compounded unity of num­ber, as in the harmonicall unities, dia­pason, diapente, diatessaron: for an har­monical habitude is a unity, which with­out number cannot be understood. More­over, from the habitude of a semitone, and a doubled mediety, which is as the habitude of the side of a square to the di­amiter, I see a more simple number, then the reason of our minde can reach unto. For habitude (or proportion) is not understood without number, and yet that number must be at once both odd and even, of which, a long discourse, and very plesant might be made, if we did not make hast to other things. We have now therefore learned, how the first thing that was begun, is that whereof number beares the Type. Nor can we by any other meanes come nearer the quid­dity thereof, seeing the precision of the quiddity of whatsoever thing it it be, is by us utterly inattingable, otherwise then in an enigma or figure. For the first thing that had a beginning, we doe symbolically call number, because num­ber is the subject of proportion, for[Page 95]there can be no proportion without number. And proportion is the place of the form; for without a proportion fit and agreeable to the form, the form can in no case shine or appear, as I said, that the proportion befitting a spoon, being broken, the form cannot remain, because it hath no place: for proportion is as it were the aptitude of the specular sur­face to the resplendence of the image, which not abiding, the representation ceaseth. Behold how the infinite unity of the samplar, cannot appear but in an apt proportion, and that is in number. For the eternall mind doth act, as a mu­sitian which would make his concepti­on sensible; for he takes many voices, and brings them into a proportion a­greeing to that harmony, that in that proportion, the harmony may sweetly and perfectly appear, when it is there as in its place, and the respendence of the harmony is varied according to the va­riety of the proportion that is fit for it; and the harmony ceaseth, when the ap­titude of that proportion ceaseth. From the mind therefore is number and all things.

Phil.
[Page 96]

What, is there not a plurality of things without the consideration of our mind?

Id.

Yes; but it is from the Divine mind; wherefore as in regard of God, plurality of things is from the Divine mind; so in regard of us, plurality of things is from our minds: for onely the mind numbers, and the mind taken a­way, there is no discrete number. For in that the mind doth singularly and particularly understand one and the same thing , we when we consider it, say it is one thing: in that it doth sin­gularly understand one thing, and that once, it is in truth the equality of unity. But when it understands one thing sin­gularly, and by multiplying it, we judge the things to be more, in saying two: because the mind understandeth that which is singularly one and the same thing, twice, or by doubling it. And so of the rest.

Phil.

Doth not a ternary consist of a binary and a unity? and we say that number is a collection of singulars; how doest thou then say, that it is of the mind?

Id.
[Page 97]

Those wayes of speaking must be referred to the way of understanding; because to collect is no more, then to take one and the same common thing, and multiply it about the same things. Therefore when thou seest, that without the multitude of the mind, a binary or ternary is nothing, thou seest well e­nough, that number is from the mind.

Phil.

How is the plurality of things, the number of the Divine mind ?

Id.

Because from that the Divine mine understands one thing so, and another thing otherwise; the plurality of things ariseth. Therefore if thou look narrow­ly into it, thou shalt find the plurality of things to be nothing but the Divine minds manner of understanding: So I conjecture one may without blame say, that the first samplar of things, in the mind of the Creator, is number. This appears by the delight and beauty, that is in all things which consisteth in propor­tion as that in number. Hereupon num­ber is the principall step leading unto wisdome.

Phil.

The Pythagoreans said so first, then the Platonists, whom also Severinus Boetius imitates.

Id.
[Page 98]

Likewise, say I, that the samplar of the conceptions of our mind, is num­ber: for without number it can do no­thing. If there were no number, there would neither be assimilation, notion, discretion, nor measure. For without number things cannot be other and o­ther, or discrete: nor can it be under­stood how one thing should be substance, another quantity, and so of the rest. Therefore seeing number is the man­ner of understanding, nothing can be without it understood. For the number of our mind, being the image of the Divine mind the samplar of things, is the samplar of notions. And as unity is before all plurality, and this unity uniting is the uncreated mind, in which all things are one; after one plurality, the explication of the power of that uni­ty, which power is the entity of things, the equality of being, and the connexi­on of entity and equality; and this is the blessed Trinity: So in our mind is the image of that Divine Trinity : for our mind is likewise a unity uniting, be­fore all plurality by the conceptible mind; and after that unity that unites [Page 99]all plurality, is plurality, which is the image of the plurality of things; as our mind is the image of the Divine mind: and plurality explicates the power of the unity of the mind, which power is the image of entity, equality and connexion.

Phil.

I see that by number thou reach­est to marvellous things. Go too there­fore, because Saint Dionisius saith, that the essences of things are incorrupti­ble, canst thou demonstrate this by num­ber?

Id.

When thou considerest that num­ber is made of the multitude of unities, and that alterity doth contingently fol­low multiplication; and markest the composition of number to be of unity and alterity, the same and divers, even and odd, divisible and indivisible: And that the quiddity of all things had its be­ginning from being the number of the Divine mind; then thou mayest after some fashion reach unto it, how the es­sences of things are incorruptible, as unity, whereof is number, which unity is entity. And how things are so or so by al­terity, which is not or the essence of num­ber,[Page 100]but accidentally following the mul­tipliciation of unity. So alterity is of the essence of nothing: for alterity pertains to destruction; because it is division, from whence is corruption, and there­fore it cannot be of the essence of the thing. Thou seest moreover how num­ber is no other thing then the things numbered. From whence thou mayest conclude, that between the Divine mind and things, there mediates no number, which hath any actuall being; but the number of things are the things them­selves.

CHAP. VII. How the minde of it selfe workes out the formes of things, by way of assimilati­on; and reacheth absolute possibilitie or mat­ter.

Phil.

TEll me I pray thee, doest thou thinke our minde is a harmonie? or a number moving it selfe? or a composition of the same and divers? or of an essence divi­sible[Page 101]and indivisible? or an entelechia? for such manner of speaking the Plato­nists and Peripateticks use?

Id.

I doe believe that all they which have spoken of the minde, might use these or the like speeches, moved by those things which they did experimentally finde in the power of the minde; for they found the judgement of all harmo­nie to bee in the minde; and that the minde out of it selfe fashioneth notions, and that it so moves it selfe, as a living discretive number would of it selfe pro­ceed to make discretions. And againe they found that it proceeds in any par­ticular, collectively, or distributively, ei­ther according to the manner of simpli­city, and absolute necessity, or of abso­lute possibility, or necessity of complexi­on, or determinately, or of a possibility determinate, or because of the aptitude of a perpetuall motion. Because of these and the like experiments, it is probably to be beleeved, they said those or the like things of the minde or soul. For to say that the minde is of the same and divers, is to say it is of unity, and alterity; after the same manner that a number is com­pounded[Page 102]of the same, in regard of the common or universall of that which is divers, in regard of singulars, or parti­culars; which both are waies of the minds understanding.

Phil.

Go on, I pray thee, to declare how the minde may be said to be a num­ber moving it selfe.

Id.

I thinke no man can deny, but that the minde is a certaine divine living number, excellently proportioned to the resplendence of manifesting, and shewing of the divine harmony, and com­plicating every sensible, rational, and intellectual harmony; and whatsoever can be better expressed about this matter. Insomuch that every number proportion, and harmony which proceeds from our minde, doth as little reach or come near our minde, as our minde doth to the in­finite minde. For the minde, though it be a divine number, yet it is so a number, that it is a simple unity, by its own pow­er putting forth its number. So that look what proportion there is between God and his workes; the same there is be­tween the workes of the minde, and the minde it selfe.

Phil.
[Page 103]

There are very many that would have our minde to be of the divine na­ture, and most meerly conjoyned to the divine minde.

ld.

I doe not think they meant any o­therwise then as I have laid, although they had another manner of speaking. For between the divine minde and ours, there is the same difference, that there is between doing and seeing; for the di­vine minde by conceiving creates, but ours by conceiving assimilates, in ma­king notions or intellectual visions. The divine minde is a power, making things to be; but ours an assimilative power.

Orat.

I see that the Philosopher hath not time enough to satisfie himselfe, and therefore I have kept silence a long time; I have heard many, and very pleasing things; yet would I faine heare further, how the minde of it selfe, puts forth the formes of things by way of assi­mulation?

Id.

The minde is so assimilative, that in the sight it makes it selfe like vi­sible things; and in the hearing to au­dible things; in the taste, to things tast­able; in the smell, to things odorable; [Page 104]in the touch, to things tangible; in the sense, to things sensible; in the ima­gination, to things imaginable; and in the reason, to reasonable things. For the image in the absence of sensible things, is as some sense without the dis­cretion of sensible things; for it con­formes it selfe to sensible things absent, but confusedly, and without discerning of state from state. But in reason it con­formes it selfe to things with discerning of state from state. In all those places our minde, is carried in the spirit of the Arteries; vvhich being stir'd up by mee­ting vvith species multipli'd from the objects to the spirits, assimilates it selfe by the things to the species; that by as­similation it may give judgement of the objects: Whereupon that subtile spirit of the Arteries, which is enlivened by the minde, is so by the minde conform'd un­to the similitude of the species, which was objected to the motion of the spirit; As soft wax is by a man, having the use and art of the minde, configured unto the thing then presently presented to the work-man: for all configurations whe­ther in the art of carving, painting, or[Page 110]hammering, cannot be done without the mind, for it is the mind which terminates all things. Therefore if we could imagine a piece of wax inform'd by the minde; then the minde being within it, would configure it, or make it like to every figure presented unto it; as now the minde of the Artificer, being applied from without labours to doe. So likewise of clay, and every flexible or fashionable thing. So in our body, the minde according to the various flexiblenesse of the spirits of the Arteries in the Organs, makes divers configurations, subtile and grosse; and one spirit is not configurable to that, to which another is; because the spirit in the optick nerve, cannot be met withall, and incountred by the species of sounds, but onely by the species of colours; & there­fore is configurable to the species of co­lours, and not of sounds, and so of the rest.

There is likewise another spirit which is configurable to all sensible species, which is in the Organ of the imagina­tive power, but after a grosse and indis­creet, or undistinguished manner. And there is another in the Organ of the ra­tiocinative,[Page 106]or discursive power, which is configurable to al sensible things, discret­ly and clearly. And all these configura­tions are assimilations to sensible things, when thy are done by the meanes of cor­porall spirits, though never so subtile; wherefore, when the minde makes these assimilations, that it may have the mo­tions of sensible things, and so is drown­ned in the corporall spirit, then it act­eth as the soul animating a body, by which animation the power of a living wight is constituted.

And hereupon the soul of brute beasts makes the like assimilation after its man­ner, (though more confused) that it may after its manner attaine to notions.

But our power of the minde, from such notions as these so elicited & drawn out by assimilation, makes Mechanick arts physicall and logicall conjectures, and reacheth things in the manner, whereby they are conceived in the possibility of be­ing, or matter, and in the manner, where­by the possibility of being, or matter is determined by the forme. Wherefore, see­ing that by these assimilations it reach­eth none but the notions of sensible[Page 107]things, where the formes of things are not true, but shadowed with the variable­nesse of matter: therefore all such no­tions, are rather conjectures then truth; for this cause I say that the notions which are reached by rationall assimila­tions, are uncertain, because they are ra­ther according to the images of formes, then the truths. Afterwards our minde, not as drowned in the body which it ani­mates, but as it is the minde of it selfe; yet in possibility of being united to the body, while it lookes unto its immuta­bility, makes assimilation of formes, not as they are drowned in the matter, but as they are in and of themselves, and conceives the immutable quiddities of things, using it selfe for an instrument, without any organicall spirit. As whilst it conceives that a circle is a figure, from whose center all the lines drawne to the circumference are equall: after which manner of being, a circle without the minde, cannot be in matter; for it is impossible there should be given in matter two equall lines; and it is lesse possible, that such a circle should be figured; and therefore a circle in the[Page 108]mind, is the Samplar and measure of the truth of a circle in the pavement. So wee say that the truth of things in the minde, is in the necessity of complexion; to wit, after the manner that the truth of a thing requireth, as we have said of the circle. And because the minde, as in it selfe, and abstracted from matter, makes these assimilations, therefore it as­similateth it selfe to abstracted formes. And according to this power it shewes or puts forth certain mathematicall sci­ences, and finds its power to bee that it can assimilate it selfe to things, as they are in the necessity of complexion, and make notions; and it is stirred up to these abstractive assimilations, by the Phantasmes or images of formes, which it layes hold on by the assimilations made in the Organs. As by the beauty of an image, one is moved to enquire the beauty of the Samplar; and in this assi­milation the minde is, as if absolute pli­ablenesse, abstracted from Wax, Clay, Mettals, and all other flexible things, were living by a mentall life, that it could of it selfe assimilate it selfe to all figures, as they subsist in themselves, and[Page 110]not in the matter; for such flexibility, in the power of its living flexibility, that is in it selfe, would behold that the noti­ons of all things are, in as much as it could conforme it selfe to all things. And because the minde is not yet satisfied with this, because it sees not the precise truth of all things, but in a certain ne­cessity determined to every thing, as one thing is so, and another thing so, and every thing compounded of its parts: and it sees that this manner of being is not the truth it selfe, but the participa­tion of truth, that one is truly so, and another thing truly otherwise, which al­terity cannot agree to the truth in it self, in its selfe, considered in its owne abso­lute and infinite precision: whereupon the minde looking to its simplicity, to wit, as it is not onely abstracted from matter, but incommunicable to matter, or after the manner of a forme not uni­ble, useth this simplicity as an instru­ment, that it may assimilate it selfe to all things, not onely abstractedly, but also in its simplicity incommunicable to mat­ter. And after this manner it behold­eth all things in its simplicity; as if it[Page 110]should see all greatnesse in a point, and a circle in the center: and there it sees without all composition of parts, and not as this is one thing, and that a­nother, but as all things are one, and one all things. And this is the beholding of absolute truth, as if one could, after the last-before-spoken manner, behold how entity it selfe, is in all beings variously participated. And if after this he could in the manner (of which we now speak) above participation, and all truth, sim­ply behold absolute entity it selfe; such a one might truly, above the determinate necessity of complexion; now see all things which earst hee saw in varietie, without it, in absolute necessity, most simply without number, greatnesse, and any alterity. And in this high­est manner, the minde uses it selfe, as it is the image of God, and as God; which is all things, shineth in it, namely, when, as the living image of God, it doth with all its power, turne it selfe to its Sam­plar. And in this manner, it sees all things one thing, and it selfe the assimi­lation of that one thing, by which it frames notions of the one, that it is all[Page 111]things, and so makes Theologicall specu­lations: where, as in the end of all no­tions, it sweetly resteth, as in the most delectable truth of its life; of which manner, there can never be enough said; but these things which I have thus spo­ken without curiosity, and after a plain manner, thou maist by thy elegant stile make more polite, and wel-come to the reader.

Orat.

I had no desire, but to beare what I have heard, which thou hast plainly declared; and that will be to them that seek the truth, elegance enough.

Phil.

I pray thee, declare further, how the mind reacheth indeterminate possibi­lity, which we call matter?

Id.

By a certain counterfeit way, and a contrary manner, whereby it passeth from a necessity of complection, to an absolute necessity; for seeing how all bodies have to be formed by corporiety, taking that away it seeth all it law be­fore it as a certaine indeterminate pos­sibility. And those things which before it saw in corporiety distinct and determinate, as being in act, now it seeth confused and indeterminate, in­possibility.[Page 112]And this is the manner of u­niversality, by which all things are seen in possibility; yet it is not the manner of being, because it is not power-being or posse esse.

CHAP. VIII. How it is the same thing, to the mind to con­ceive, to understand notions, and to make assimilations. And how sensations are made, according to the naturalists.

Phil.

ENough of this, least we ex­ceed our purpose now tell me, if in or to the mind, to conceive, be to understand?

Id.

I have said that the mind is the power of conceiving; so that being stir­red up, it moveth it self by conceiving till it understand. Wherefore understan­ding is the perfect motion of the mind.

Phil.

When is it said to conceive?

Id.

When it makes the similitudes of things: or, if thou hadst rather say, notions, or kinds, differences, species, proper, and accident. For God created in the soul the power of conceiving, and[Page 113]the mind doth the things aforesaid; yet are all these one and the same thing, the power of the mind, conception, simi­litude, notion, kind, and species. And although we do not call it the same thing to understand and to conceive, yet whatsoever is understood, is conceived, and whatsoever is conceived is under­stood: but onely that which is actuall is understood, and not conceived.

Phil.

How meanest thou that?

Id.

To conceive is nothing but to comprehend either after the manner of matter, or form, or some other way; but that which is actually, is said to be un­derstood; that is, the property of it is comprehended by the mind. The mind is also said to understand, by which it is moved, and the beginning of the mo­tion is rather called passion; the per­fection of it, understanding. But as a di­sposition and habit are the same, con­sidering a disposition tends to perfection, and after perfection is a habit; so the passion of the mind and the understand­ing are one and the same thing.

Phil.

Yet the understanding doth not seeme to say, or imply perfection.

Id.
[Page 114]

Thou sayest well; properly the mind is said to understand when it is moved; although it be not called un­standing, but after perfection.

Phil.

Are therefore all these one and the same, to wit, the power of concei­ving, conception, similitude, notion, passion, and understanding?

Id.

They are so the same, that the power of conceiving is not any of them: because it is called a power, from an ap­titude, which it hath from its creation; a conception, from the imitation, be­cause it imitates the matter or forme, namely, in that it comprehends after the manner of the matter or form of the compound.

And in what respect it is called con­ception, in the same also it is called the similitude or notion of the thing; and these names are truly predicated one of another, and every one of them is called understanding.

Phil.

I wonder how conception can be called understanding?

Id.

Although the conception be cal­led from imitation, and understanding from perfection, yet it is perfection,[Page 115]which is the cause why understanding is called conception: for then doth the mind conceive, when the understanding is lead to perfection.

Phil.

Paradventure thou wilt likewise admit that the understanding should be called the passion of the mind?

Id.

Yes that I will; for the under­standing is the motion of the mind, the beginning whereof is passion.

Phil.

Therefore conception is a pas­sion too?

Id.

It follows not, as thou seest of thy self. In like manner although the kinds and species be the understanding, yet are they not therefore passions of the soul; for the passions of the soul vanish, and yet the kinds and species of things re­maine.

Phil.

Enough of this, seeing divers men speak diversly thereof. But tell me, how doest thou call that power of the mind by which it sees all things in the necessity of complexion; and that o­ther by which it sees them in an abso­lute necessity?

Id.

I that am an Idiot, do not much regard words, yet I thinke that power[Page 116]may conveniently be called discipline, whereby the mind looking to its own immutability, considers the forms of things without matter; because that by discipline and learning men come to this consideration of the form. But that power, by which the mind looking to its own simplicity, doth therein behold all things without composition, may be called intelligence.

Phil.

It is read, that some men call that power which thou callest doctrine or learning, intelligence; and that which thou callest intelligence, intelligibility.

Id.

It doth not displease me; for they may conveniently be so called.

Orat.

I could wish to hear from thee Phi­losopher, how the Naturalists suppose sensati­ons are done; for in this I thinke thee more skilfull then the Idiot, who will also be glad if thou wilt so do.

Phil.

I should be glad if I could re­hearse any part of that which I have heard. That which thou required is thus: The Naturalists say, that the soul is mixt with a most thin and subtile spi­rit, scattered clean through the Arteries; so that, that spirit is the carryage of the [Page 117]soul; and the vehiculum or carryage of that spirit, is the blood. There is there­fore one nerve or artery full of that spi­rit, which is directed to the eyes, so that near unto the eyes it is forked, and be­ing filled with that spirit, it comes to the bals of the eyes wherein is the apple; that spirit then so dispersed through the arte­ries, the instrument of the soul, by which it exerciseth the sense of seeing; Two arteries full of the same spirit, are dire­cted to the eares; likewise to the nostrils, and to the palate, are certaine arteries directed; and that spirit is diffused by the marrow even unto the extremities or ends of the joynts. That spirit which is directed to the eyes is most active and nimble: and therefore when it finds any outward objects, the spirit is repercussed or stricken back, and the soul is stirred up, to see that which it meets withall. So in the ear it is repercussed with the voice, and the soul excited to comprehend: and as hearing is done in a most thin aire, so is smelling in a thick or rather fu­mous aire, which when it entreth the no­strils, by its sumosity retards the spi­rit, so that the soul is excited to compre­hend[Page 118]the odour of that fumosity. Like­wise when a spongious humour enters the palate, the spirit is retarded, and the soul excited to taste; So the soul u­seth the spirit diffused through the mar­row, for the instrument of touching: for when any solid thing meets with the body, the spirit is offended, and after a manner retarded, and thence is touch­ing. About the eyes, the soule useth a fiery power, about the ears an aethere­all, or rather a pure ayrie one; about the nostrils a thick and fumous ayrie one; about the palate, a watery power; about the marrow, an earthy one; And this according to the order of the foure elements. That as the eyes are higher then the eares, so the spirit which is di­rected to the eyes, is higher and superi­our, and may after a manner be called fiery. So that in man, the disposition of the senses is in a manner like the disposi­tion of the order of the four elements, whereupon seeing is swifter then hear­ing, and therefore we see the lightning before we hear the thunder, although they be both at once. Moreover the strong subtile and acute direction of the[Page 117]beams of the eyes, makes the aire give way unto it, and nothing can withstand it, except it bee grosse, earthy, or wa­tery. Seeing then the spirit is the instru­ment of the senses, and the eyes, nostrils, and other sensories, are as windowes and wayes by which that spirit may go out to perceive, it is manifest that nothing is perceived but by a let or obstacle, that (as soon as any thing hinders it) that spirit which is the instrument of percei­ving may be retarded, and the soul be­ing as it were retarded, may confusedly by the senses comprehend the thing that hinders it. For the sense, of it self, ter­minates nothing: and if when we see any thing, we put a bound in it, that is not the worke of the sense, but of the ima­gination which is joyned to the sense. There is moreover in the fore part of the head, in the phantasticall cell, a certain spirit much more subtile and nimble then that which is diffused through the Arteries, which when the mind useth as its instrument, it is made more subtile, that though the thing be absent, it can comprehend the form in the matter, which power of the soul is called imagi­nation;[Page 118]because by it, the soul conforms unto it self the image of the thing ab­sent; and it differs in this from the sense, because the sense comprehends the form in the matter, onely while the thing is present; but imagination doth it as well, when the thing is absent, but confused­ly, so that it discernes not the state, but comprehends many states together con­fusedly. But there is in the middle part of the head, to wit, in that cell which is called rationall, a most subtile spirit, thinner far then that in the fantasticall cell, and when the soul useth that spirit as her instrument, it is yet more subtible, insomuch that it discerneth state from state; yet doth it not comprehend the truth of things, because it comprehends formes mingled with matter; but mat­ter confounds the thing formed, so that the truth of it cannot be comprehended. And this power of the soul is called rea­son. After these three manners the soul useth a corporall nstrument. By it self the soul comprehends, when it takes it self into it self (or retires into it selfe) so that it useth it self for an instrument, as we have heard from thee.

CHAP. IX. How the mind measureth all things by making a point, a line, and a surface: how one point it both the complication and explication of a line, and of the nature of complication; and how it makes adequate measure of di­vers things: and by what it is stirred up to do it.

Orat.

THe Naturalists that after ex­perience have made these things manifest, are much to be commended, cettainely, because they are faire and pleasant things.

Id.

So doth a lover of wisdome deserve great praise and thankes.

Phil.

I see the night drawes on, and therefore I will have thee, Idiot, make haste to many things that are yet behind, and expound unto us, how the mind measureth all things, as thou toldest us in the beginning.

Id.

The mind makes a point to be the terme of a line, and a line the terme of a surface; and the surface, it makes the number of the body; therefore multi­tude[Page 120]and magnitude are from the mind, and so it measures all things.

Phil.

Declare how the mind maketh a point.

Id.

Because a line is the joyning of one point to another, or the terme of a line. Therefore when thou wilt thinke a line, thy mind may consider in it self the joy­nings of the two halfs thereof; which if it do, it will be a line of two points, because of the two termes thereof, and the joy­ning of the two halfs which the mind hath propounded to it self. Nor are they divers kinds of points, the terme of a line, and the joyning; for the joyning of the two halfs, is therefore the terme of the lines. And if the mind give unto ei­ther half its proper terme, it will be a line of four parts. So by how many parts soever the fore-imagined line bee divi­ded, look how many termes there are of those parts, of so many points shall the said line be judged to be.

Phil.

How doth the mind make a line?

Id.

In considering length without breadth: and so it makes a surface, in considering breadth without solidity.[Page 121]Although, indeed, neither a point, nor line, nor surface can be actually; seeing onely solidity doth actually exist with­out the mind. So the measure and terme of every thing is from the mind; and though wood and stones, have a tertaine measure and terme besides our mind, yet they have them from the uncreated mind from which every terme of things de­scends.

Phil.

Dost thou thinke a point to be in­divisible?

Id.

I thinke a terminal point indivisi­ble, because of a terme there is no terme; and if that were divisible, then it were not a terme, because it had a terme.

Nor more hath a point any quantity: nor can a quantity be made of points; for of those things that have no quantity, it cannot be made.

Phil.

Thou agreest well with Boetius, saying, if thou add a point to a point, thou doest no more then if thou add no­thing to nothing.

Id.

Therefore if thou joyne together the termes of two lines, thou makest in­deed the line the longer, but yet the con­junction of the termes shall make no quantity.

Phil.
[Page 122]

Dost thou then say, there are ma­ny points?

Id.

Neither many points, nor many unities; but seeing a point is the terme of a line, it may everywhere be found in the line: yet there is in it but one point, which being extended is a line.

Phil.

There is therefore nothing in truth found in a line besides a point?

Id.

True; yet for the variablenesse of the matter which is under it, there is there a certaine extension. As there be­ing but one unity, yet is number said to consist of many unities, because of the al­terity of those things that are subjects to unity. A line therefore is the evolution (or flux) of a point; so is a surface of a line, and solidity of a surface: so that take away a point, and all greatnesse fai­leth; take away unity, and all multitude faileth.

Phil.

How dost thou understand that a line is the Evolution (or unwinding) of a point?

Id.

By evolution I mean explication, which is nothing else then for a point to be in many atomes, so that it is in every of them conjoyned and continued. For[Page 123]it is one and the same point in all atomes (or indivisibles) as one & the same white­nesse in all things that are white.

Phil.

What doest thou understand by an atome?

Id.

According to the consideration of the mind, that which is continued is di­vided into that which is ever divisible: and multitude (or number) increaseth into infinity. But dividing them actual­ly, we come to a part, which is actually indivisible, which I call an atome: For an atome is a quantity, which for its lit­tlenesse is actually indivisible. So in the consideration of the mind, multitude hath no end, which yet notwithstanding is actually terminated: for all the mul­titude of things fals under a certaine de­terminate number, though to us un­known.

Phil.

Is a point the perfection of a line, being it is the terme thereof?

Id.

It is the perfection and totality thereof, which complicates in it selfe a line. For to point a thing is to ter­minate it, and where it is terminated, there it is perfected; and the perfection thereof, is the totality of it. Therefore[Page 124]is a point the terme of a line, and its to­tality and perfection, which complicates in it selfe a line, as a line explicates a point. For when I say in Geometry, that the totall perfection of a line, is from this point, A unto B, then before the drawing of the line, from A to B. by by the points A. B. have I already de­signed the totality of the line, namely that the line must not be drawne out any further. Therefore that which actually, or intellectually is to include the totality between this, and this; that it is to com­plicate a line in apoint. And to explicate it, is to draw a line particularly from A to B. and so a line explicates the com­plication of a point.

Phil.

I had thought a point had been the complication of a line, as unity is of number; because as there is nothing in number but unity, so there is nothing in a line, but a point everywhere.

Id.

Thou hast not said amisse. It is the same thing in divers words; and the same manner of speaking, mayst thou use in all complications; for motion is the explication of rest, there being no­thing found in motion but rest. So now,[Page 125](or the instant) is explicated by time, because there is nothing found in time, but nows or instants. So of the rest.

Phil.

How sayest thou, there is no­thing in motion but rest?

Id.

Because to move, is to fall from one state to another; for as long as a thing is in one state, it is not moved, and so there is nothing found in motion but rest. For motion is a departure from one; therefore to be moved, is a depar­ture from one, unto another one: So that to passe from rest to rest, is to bee moved. And to be moved, is nothing but an ordered rest, or rest successively ordered.

He doth much profit himselfe, that seriously considers complications, and their explications; especially, how all complications are images of the compli­cation of infinite simplicity, and not ex­plications thereof, but images, and are under the necessity of complexion. And the minde, the first image of the compli­cation of divine simplicity, by its owne power, comprehending the power of these complications, is the place or re­gion of the necessity of complexion; be­cause[Page 126]those things that truly are, are ab­stracted from the variablenesse of mat­ter, and are not materially but mental­ly; whereof already sufficiently.

Phil.

I wonder, seeing as thou sayest, Idiot, the minde is the measure of things, why it is carryed to the measure of things, with so great desire?

Id.

That it may reach its owne mea­sure; for the minde is a living measure, which by measuring other things, reach­eth its owne capacity. For it doth all things, that it may know it selfe. But though it seeke the measure of it selfe in every thing, yet it finds it not; but where all things are one thing, there is the truth of its precision, because there is the ade­quate Samplar thereof.

Phil.

How can the minde make it selfe the adequate Samplar of so divers things?

Id.

As an absolute face might make it self the measure of all faces; for when thou considerest that the minde is a certaine absolute measure, which can be neither greater, nor lesse, being uncontracted to quantity : And furthermore that it is a living measure, measuring by it selfe, as[Page 127]though aliving paire of compasses, should measure by themselves, then thou reach­est how it maks it self a notion, measure, or samplar, that it might in all things reach it selfe.

Phil.

I doe understand the like in a compasse, which is of no determinate quantity, because a compasse, yet is ex­tended, and contracted, that it may be like the things determinate. But tell me, doth the minde assimilate it selfe to the manners of being?

Id.

Yea to all of them, for it con­formes it selfe to possibility, that it may measure all things possibly: so to abso­lute necessity, that like God, it may mea­sure all things unitedly and simply; so to the necessity of complexion, that it may measure all things in their proper being; and unto determinate possiblity, that it may measure all things as they existe. For it measures symbolically, by way of comparison, as when it useth num­ber, and Geometricall figures and ac­comodates it selfe to the likenesse of such things. Wherefore, to him that looks narrowly into the matter, it appeares, that the minde is a living and uncon­tracted[Page 128]similitude of infinite equality.

CHAP. X. How the comprehension of the truth, is in multitude and magnitude.

Phil.

LEt it not bee grievous unto thee, to continue thy disourse untill night, my deare friend, that I may still injoy thy presence; for to morrow I must of necessity bee gone; and therefore I pray thee, expound unto me that saying of the learned Boetius, what he meanes when he saith, that the comprehension of the truth of all things, is in multitude and magnitude.

Id.

I think that in multitude, he had relation to discretion, and in magnitude to integrity or wholnesse. For hee doth rightly comprehend the truth of a thing, which discerns, or distinguisheth it from all other things; and he also reacheth the integrity or wholnesse of a thing, be­yond which, or short of it, the whole be­ing of a thing cannot subsist. Therefore[Page 129]learning or discipline in Geometry, de­termines the whole being of a Triangle so, that it cannot be either beyond, or on this side, either more or lesse.

In Astronomy it determines the whole being of motion; by the doctrine or dis­cipline of greatnesse is had the terme and measure of the whole being of things; as by that of number, the discretion of things; for number doth much availe to distinguish the confusion of things that are common; likewise to collect the termes and communion of things; But greatnesse is available to comprehend the terme, and measure of the whole being of things.

Phil.

If magnitude doe distinguish the integrity from all things, there is then nothing knowne, unlesse all things be knowne.

Id.

Thou sayest the truth; for the part is not knowne, except the whole be knowne; for the whole measureth the part. For when I doe cut a Spoon out of the wood by parts, one piece after a­nother, while I fit every part, I looke to the whole, that so I may make a well proportioned Spoon; so that the whole[Page 130]Spoon which I have conceived in my minde, is the Samplar which I have an eye unto, while I frame every part there­of. And then can I make a perfect Spoon, when every part keeps its due proportion in order to the whole; like­wise also ought every part compared to part, to observe its integrity or whole­nesse. Therefore it must needs be that to the knowledge of one Spoon, there proceeds the knowledge of the whole, and of the parts thereof. Wherefore if God, who is the Samplar of the universe be not known, there is nothing of the whole university of things known; and if the university bee not knowne, it is manifest that nothing can be knowne of the parts thereof. So that the knowledge of God, & of al things, must go before the knowledge of any thing in particular.

Phil.

Tell me further, I pray thee, why he saith that without the Quadri­vium (or four wayes in one) no man can righty philosophize?

Id.

For the reason aforesaid; for be­cause in Arithmetick, and musick is con­tained the power of numbers, from whence is had the description of things;[Page 131]and in Geometry and Astronomy, is con­tained the Doctrine of greatnesse, from whence flowes all the comprehension of the whole being, therefore can no man Philosophize without the quadrivium.

Phil.

I wonder whether he meant, that all that is, is either greatnesse or mul­titude?

Id.

I doe not think he did, but that all that is, falls under greatnesse or mul­titude, because the demonstration of all things is made according to the power, of the one or the other; for magnitude terminates, multitude discerns. There­fore the definition which terminates and includs the whole being, hath the power of magnitude, and pertaines unto it; and the demonstration of definitions, is necessary according to the power of magnitude; but division, and the demon­stration of divisions according to the multitude; moreover the demonstrati­ons of syllogismes, are made according to the power, both of multitude & mag­nitude. For that of two propositions, the third is concluded, it is of multitude; but that it consists of universals and par­ticulars, it is of magnitude. Hee that [Page 132]had more leasure then we have, might al­so deduce from hence, how quantities and qualities, & the other predicaments, which give us the notice of things, de­scend from multitude; but how this is done, it is hardly known.

CHAP. XI. How all things in God are in a trinity, and likewise in our minde: and how our minde is compounded of the severall manners of comprehending.

Phil.

THou spakest somewhat a­bove, of the trinity of God, and the trinity of the mind; I pray thee declare how all things are in God in trinity, and likewise in our minde.

Id.

You Philosophers doe affirme, that the ten most generall kinds doe contain all things.

Phil.

Yes without doubt.

Id.

Doest-not thou, as thou considerest them in act, see that they are divided?

Phil.

Yes.

Id.
[Page 133]

But when thou considerest them before the beginhing of being without division, what else can they be but eter­nity? for connexion is before all divisi­on. Therefore it must needs be, that before all division, they were united and knit together. But connexion which is before all division, is most simple eter­nity, which is God. Furthermore, it cannot be denied, that whereas God is perfect; and perfect is that whereunto nothing is wanting; hereupon it follow­eth, that the universitie of things, is in perfection, which is God. But the high­est perfection requireth that it bee simple and one, without Alterity and diversity; and therefore all things in God are one.

Phil.

It is a plain and pleasant demon­stration thou makest; but shew how in trinity.

Id.

This were to be handled in ano­ther place, that it might be spoken of more clearely; but since I have deter­mined to deny thee nothing to my ut­most power, take it thus. Thou hast already heard, that from eternity all things in God are God. Consider there­fore the university of things in time; and[Page 134]being that nothing impossible is made, doest thou not see that the universitie might have been made from eternall?

Phil.

My minde assents unto't.

Id.

Therefore in thy minde, thou seest all things in that their may-be-made, or posse fieri?

Phil.

Thou sayest well.

Id.

And if they could have been made, there must needs be something that could make them before they were; a posse-facere, before a posse-fieri.

Phil.

There was.

Id.

So before the temporall universi­ty of things, thou seest all things in him, that could make them.

Phil.

I doe see them so.

Id.

Well then, that the unversity of things which thou considerest with the eye of thy minde, in the absolute could-be-made, and the could-make, might come into being, was there not necessary a bond, knot, or connexion betweene them both, the could-be-made, and the could-make; or else that which could-be-made by him that could-make, had never been made?

Phil.

Thou sayest exceeding well.

Id.
[Page 135]

Thou seest then before all tempo­rall existence, all things in the knot or bond, proceeding from the absolute could-be-made, and the absolute could-make: but these three absolutes, are be­fore all time simple eternity. And there­fore thou seest all things in simple eter­nity after the manner of a Trinity.

Phil.

Most sufficiently.

Id.

Marke then diligently how the ab­solute could-be-made, and the absolute could-make, and the absolute knot, are but one infinitly absolute, and one deity; And that could-be-made is in order be­fore could-make; for every making pre­supposeth that it could be made, and could-make hath what it hath, namely that it could-make, from could-be-made, and the knot or band from them both. Therefore, whereas order saith that could-be-made precedes, therefore is unity attributed unto it, in which u­nity is precedence: & unto could-make is attributed equality, which presupposeth unity; from both which is the bond or knot: and let these things, if so it seem good, be sufficient of this matter.

Phil.

Onely one thing more, and that[Page 136]is, whether God do understand as three and one?

Id.

The eternal mind understandeth all things in the unity of unity equality, and the bond of both: for how should God understand even in eternity with­out all succession, without entity, the e­quality of entity, and the knot of both? which are Trinity in unity. Not that God pretermits something after the manner of matter, or understands by succession, as wee do; but his under­standing, being his standing, essence, is necessarily in a Trinity.

Thil.

Now add unto it, whether it be so also in our mind, after the manner thereof?

Id.

I hold for certaine, that all things principiated or begun, hold in them­selves the likenesse of their principle or beginning; and that therefore in all things is found a trinity in unity of sub­stance, after the likenese of the true Tri­nity and unity of substance, of the eter­nall beginning. In all things therefore which are principiated, there must needs be found the could-be-made, which de­scends from the infinite power of unity,[Page 137]or absolute entity; the could-make, which descends from the power of abso­lute equality, and the composition of both, which descends from the absolute bond. Whereupon our mind, the image of the eternal mind, in that eternal mind as the similitude in the truth, labours to find out its own measure: For our mind is to be considered as a high power in re­gard it is the similitude or the Divine mind: in which mind of ours to be a­ble to be assimilated, to be able to assimi­late and the knot of both, are in essence one and the same thing. Therefore can­not our mind, except it be one in Trinity, understand any thing, no more then the Divine mind. For first whilest it moves it self that it may understand, it premi­ses something in the likenesse of could­be made or matter, whereunto it joyns another in the likenesse of could-make or forme; and then in the likenesse of that which is compounded of them, both, it understands. And whilest it com­prehends after the manner of matter, it akes kinds; whilest after the manner of forme, it makes differences; and whilest after the manner of the com­pound,[Page 138]it makes species or individuals.

So also whilest it understands after the manner of a proper passion, it makes things proper; & whilest after the manner of something adventitious, makes acci­dents. And it understands nothing ex­cept it knit it together by some manner of matter premised, another manner of forme comming upon it, and the man­ner of the compound. And in this suc­cession, wherein I said some things are premissed after the manner of matter and forme, thou feest our mind understand­eth after the similitude of the eternall mind: for the eternal mind understands all things together, and after all manner of understanding, without succession. But succcession is a descent from eternity, whose image and smilitude it is: there­fore it understands in succession, whilest it united to the body which is subject to succession. For this is atten­tively to be noted, that all things, as they are in our mind, are together in matter, in forme, and in the compound.

Thil.

The things thou speakest, are ve­ry delightfull; but that which thou saidst last, was so attentively to be noted, [Page 139]I pray thee expound more plainly.

Id.

Very willingly. Look upon this na­ture which is an animal, or living wight: for sometimes the minde comprehends it as it is a Genus, or kind, and then it consi­der the nature of a living wight as it were confusedly, and unformedly after the manner of matter: sometimes it considers it as it is expressed by the name of humanity, and that is after the man­ner of formes; sometimes after, the man­ner of the thing compounded of that kind or Genus, and the differences that come unto it, and being so in the mind it is said to be in connexion. So then, that matter, and that forme, or rather that similitude of matter and forme, and that which is considered after the man­ner of the compound, is one and the same notion, and one and the same sub­stance. As when I consider an animal, as matter; and humanity as forme coming upon it, and the connexion of them both, I say that matter, that forme, and that connexion is one substance. Or whilst I consider colour as the matter, white­nesse as the forme comming to it, and the connexion of both, I say that mat­ter, [Page 140]that form, & that connexion of that matter and that form are one & the same accident. And in like manner in al things.

Norl et it move thee, that when the minde makes ten most generall kinds, the first beginnings, that then those most ge­nerall have no common Genus or kinde, which may, as matter be premised unto them; for the minde can consider a thing, after the manner of matter; and the same after the manner of the form coming to it; and the same after the man­ner of the compound: as whilst the mind considers the possibility of being substance or any other of the ten predicaments (for it may rationally be said, that manner is the possibility of being, either substance, or accident) and the minde considers the same as forme comming upon it, as it is matter; and as it is compounded, whe­ther it be substance, or any other of the ten. So that those three are one and the same most generall. In that university therefore of things, which is in the mind, all things are in trinity, and in the uni­ty of trinity, after the similitude, as they are in the eternal minde.

Phil.

Have not then the ten most ge­nerall,[Page 141]these manners of being, without the consideration of the minde?

Id.

Those ten most generals, are not in themselve, but in the minde, and are understood after the manner of the mat­ter, after the manner of the forme, or af­ter the manner of the compound; yet in their inferiours, they are considered to have these manners of beings. Neither if thou rightly marke, can they in them­selves without the minde, be either after the manner of the matter, forme or compound, which thou shalt especially finde true when thou observest, how quality as it is in it self an accident, can­not be said to be but in its inferiours. So as speciall, or particular state, as it is in the minde, after the manner of matter; it may peradventure be said, that it can­not be considered, being the, (speciall, and individuall state is the same, being sundry wayes considered. Wee will therefore say, that peradventure it is not in it selfe, understood after the manner or matter, but in its superiours.

Phil.

I am content, but I would have thee (shew me, how those things which are in act, are after the manner of a trinity,[Page 142]according to that thou hast said.

Id.

That will be easie for thee to see, if thou note that all things as they are actually, are in matter, forme, and con­nexion. For this nature, humanity, as it is a possibilty of being man, is matter. as it is humanity; it is forme; and as it is man compounded of them both, it is the connnexion: so that one, and the same thing, is both possibility of being man, the forme, and the compounded of them both, and there is one nature of the thing. Likewise also this nature, which is ex­pressed the name of whitenesse, as it is a possibility of being whiteness, it is mat­ter; the same otherwise taken, is forme, and the same in the compound of them both; but so, as that that matter, that forme, and that compound of both is by nature the same quality.

Phil.

If to be in matter, be to be pos­sibly, and to be possible, bee not, how then are all things that are in act said to be in matter?

Id.

Let not this trouble thee, which thou mayest conceive how it may be un­derstood without repugnance; for I doe not meane actuall being, as repugnant[Page 143]to being in matter; but it is so to bee understood, that all things as they are in act, that is here and in these things, are in matter; as for example, in wax is the possibility of being a Candle, in copper of being a bason.

Phil.

Yet one word more, I beseech thee; why is the individuall trinity cal­led one?

Id.

In God, from the unity uniting, which is the true substance; in other things, from the unity of nature, which is as it were, a certain image of the unity uniting, which properly is substance.

Phil.

When it is said, that unity is one, and equality one, whence is that?

Id.

From the unity of the substance.

Phil.

And when our divines take uni­ty for the Father, equality for the Sonne and the knot or bound for the holy Ghost as the Father is one, and the Son is one, whence is that?

Id.

From the singularity of the per­son, for there are three singular persons in one divine substance; as I have hereto­fore showne.

Phil.

To the end I may the better un­derstand the things thou hast told me let[Page 144]me know I pray thee, whether thou thin­kest our mind is, compounded of those manners of comprehending? for then our mind being a substance, those manners must needs be the substancial parts there­of: if this be thy meaning, say so?

Id.

Plato would have the mind com­pounded of a divisible, and indivisible substance (as thou (saidst even now) and this he tooke from the manner of com­prehending: for whilest it understands after the manner of forme, then it com­prehends individually; for a thing for­merly. understood, is then individually comprehended. And therefore though we cannot well say humanities, yet we say men, because the thing understood after the manner of the matter, or of the compound, is divisibly understood: for our mind is the power of comprehend­ing, and the whole virtual, compound­ed of all the virtues of comprehending: and therefore every manner, being a sub­stantial part thereof, is verified of the whole mind. But how the manners of comprehending, are substantial parts of that power which is called the mind, it is very hard to say or know.

Phil.
[Page 145]

Help me a little, good Idiot, in this so difficult matter.

Id.

The mind doth virtually consist of the power of understanding, reason­ing, imagining, and perceiving; so that the whole mind is called the power of understanding, the power of reasoning, the power of imagining, and the power of perceiving; wherefore of these it con­sists, as of its elements; and the mind af­ter its manner, reacheth all things in all things. And because all things, as they are in act, are in the sense as it were in a Globe, and undistinctly; and the mind in a reason, discreetly or distinctly; hereupon it is the most expresse similitude between the manner of the being of all things, as they are in act, & as they are in the mind; for the power of perceiving in us, is the power of the mind, and therefore the mind it self, as every part of a line, is a line: For greatnesse considered of its self, without matter, is a fit example of what thou demandest; being that every part thereof is verified of the whole, and therefore is of the same entity with the whole.

Phil.

Seeing the mind is but one, from[Page 146]whence hath it these powers of compre­hending?

Id.

It hath them from unity, for that it understands commonly after the man­ner of the matter, or of the compound, it hath it because it is unity uniting; that it understands singularly, it hath it like­wise from unity, which is singularity: that it understands formerly, it hath it from unity, which is immutability; and that it understands divisibly, it hath it from unity; for division descends from unity.

CHAP. XII. How the understanding in all men is not one: and how the number of seperated minds is not numerable by us, but known to God.

Phil.

THere are yet some things, wherein I would faine know what thou thinkest; some Peripateticks say that the under­standing is one in all men; others, as certaine Platonists, say that there is not one intellective soul, but that our souls are of the same substance with the soul of the world, which, as they say, com­prehends[Page 147]all our souls: yet they say our, souls do differ numerically, because they have a divers manner of operartion; but that they are all after death, resolved in­to the soul of the worlds Tellus what thou thinkest of it?

Id

I affirme (as thou heardest) that the mind is the understanding; but how there should be one mind in all men I cannot conceive. For the mind having an office by which it is called die soul, doth therefore require a convenient ha­bitude of the body adequately proporti­oned unto it; which as it is found in one body, is not to be found in another. As therefore the identity of proportion is unmultipliable; so is the identity of the mind, which without an adequate pro­portion of the body, cannot animate For as the sight of thine eye, could not be the sight of any other, though it were seperated from thine eye, and joyned to anothers eye, because it could not find the same proportion in ano­thers eye, that it had in thine; so neither the discretion which is in thy sight could be the discretion in the sight of another. So neither could the under­stand[Page 148]of that discretion, be the under­standing of an others discretion. There­fore I conclude it not possible that there should be one understanding in all men.

But because number seemes to be ta­ken away, when the variablenesse of the matter is taken away (as appears by that I have already said) and that the nature of a mind, out of the body is free and ac­quited from all variety of matter, there­fore it may be that the Platonists said that our souls are resolved into one soul, which is the common comprehender of all ours. But I do not think this reso­lution true: For although we cannot understand how number should be mul­tiplyed, when the variety of matter it ta­ken away; yet for all this, that purali­ty of things ceaseth not, which is the number of the Divine mind. Therefore the number of seperated sustances, is no more, unto us a number, then it is, no number, because it is so numerable by us, that yet it is neither even nor odd; nei­ther great nor small; nor doth it in any thing agree with a number numerable by us. As if any man should hear an ex­ceeding great voice, made by a mighty[Page 149]army of men; and yet he should not know that it was an army that made it; it is manifest that in the voice which he hears, every mans voice is different and distinct; though he that heard it, could not give judgement of the number, and therefore judgeth it to be one voice, be­cause he hath no means to reach the number. Or as if in one chamber many candles were burning, and the chamber enlightned by them all, yet the light of every candle remaines distinct from the light of another, as we find by experi­ence, when they are carried out of the room one after one, because the light is diminished when every one that is carri­ed out, carrieth his light with it. Sup­pose therefore, that the burning candles in that chamber should be all put out and yet the light remaine, and that one should come into that chamber so en­lightned, he although he saw the light­somenesse of the chamber, yet cannot be possibly reach the distinction and discre­tion of the lights; nay he could not conceive, how there should be plurality of lights there, except he knew that there were the light of many candles put out;[Page 150]and if he did know this, namely that there were many, yet he could never nu­merically discerne or distinguish one light from another. The like examples thou mayest bring in the other senses and help thy self how the impossibility of nu­merical difference, may, in regard of us, stand with the knowledge of plurality: but he that shall more diligently ob­serve, how natures abstracted from all variety of matter, that is any wayes in­telligile by us: yet in regard of God, who is infinitely absolute, are not sim­ply abstracted from all change, seeing they may be by him changed and lead into destruction, in as much as God a­lone doth according to his nature, dwell in imortality; be sees withall that no creature can possibly escape the number of the Divine mind.

CHAP. XIII. How that which Plato called the soul of the worlds and Aristotle nature, is God which worketh all things in all things? and how he crealeth the mind in us.

Phil.

ENough of this; what saiest thou of the soul of the world?

Id.

The time will not suffer all things to be discursed; but I thinke Plato called, that, the soul of the world, which Ari­stotle called nature; and for my part, I suppose that neither that soul nor that nature, are any other thing then God, which worketh all things in all things, and whom we call the spirit of all things.

Phil.

Plato said that that soul doth in­delibly containe the samplars of things, and move all things. Aristotle said, that it was wise nature that moves all things.

Id.

It may be Plato meant, that the soul of the world, is as the soul of a ser­vant that knows the mind of his Lord, and executes his will; and this know­ledge[Page 152]he called notions or samplars, which are never defaced by oblivion, that the execution of the Divine providence may not faile. And that which Plato cals the knowledge of the soul of the world, Arisiotle would have to be the sagacity of nature, which had understanding to fulfill the will of God. Therefore to that soul of nature, they attributed the ne­cessity of complexion, because it is de­terminately necessitated so to doe, as ab­solute necessity commandeth; but that is nothing but the manner of understan­ding, namely when our minde concei­veth God as the Architectonicall Art, whereunto there is another art of exe­cuting subordinate, that the divine con­ception may proceed into being: but in asmuch as all things do necessarily obey the will of the almighty, therefore the will of God needs no other executor, for in omnipotence willing and doing do coincide: As a glasse-maker, whilest he makes glass, blows in a breath which ex­ecutes his will; in which breath is the word or conception, and the power; for unlesse the power and conception of the glasse-maker were in the breath which he[Page 153]sends forth, there would not arise, or be made, such a glasse. Conceive therfore an absolute creative art, subsisting by it self, that the art may be the workman, and the mastery the master; this art hath in its essence necessarily, omnipotence, that nothing can resist it; wisdome, to know what it doth; and the connexion of omnipotence with wisdom, that what it willeth may be done. That connexi­on, having in it self wisdome and omni­potence is the spirit, as it were, will, or desire; for of things impossible, and ut­terly unkown, there is neither will nor desire. So in the most perfect will, there is wisdome and power, and by a certain similitude; it is called a spirit, because motion is not without, spirit; insomuch that whatsoever causeth motion in the mind, and all things else, we call a spi­rit. And by motion, all men do what they will do. Therefore the power of a creative art, which is an absolute and infinite art, or the blesshed God, doth all things in his spirit or will, in the which is the wisdome of the Son, and the om­nipotence of the Father, that his worke may be of one individed Trinity. Of this[Page 154]connexin, spirit, or will, the Platonists were ignorant, which did not see this spirit to be God, but thought it to be principiated by God, and to be the soul of the world, as our understanding soul animates our body. Nor did the Peri­pateticks see this spirit which thought this power to be nature hidden in all things, from which is motion and rest, when indeed it is God absolute blessed for evermore.

Orat.

How it rejoyceth me to hear so plain an exposition; but I pray thee help us againe with some example, to conceive the creation of our mind in this our body.

Id.

Thou hast already heard of this matter; but because variety of exam­ples, makes that which in it self is unex­pressible, somewhat more clear, I will obey thee. Behold, thou knowest that our mind is a certaine power having the image of that Divine art we spake of. Therefore all things which are most tru­ly in the Divine art, are truly in our mind, as the image thereof. Therefore our mind is created by that creating art, as if that art would create it self. And because that infinite art is un-multiply­able,[Page 155]it behooveth that there arise an i­mage thereof even as if a painter would paint himself, and himself being not mul­tiplyable by painting himself, there should rise his image.

And because an image, how perfect soever (if it cannot become more and more perfect, and conformable to the samplar) is never so perfect, as any im­perfect image, which hath power to con­form it self more and more without li­mitation to the unapproachable samp­lar, for in this the image, after the best manner it may, doth imitate infinity. As if a painter should make two pictures of himself; whereof the one being dead, should seem actually more like him; but the other should be alive, and though for the present, lesse like, yet such a one, as being by its object stirred up to motion, could alwayes make it self more and more conformable to the samplar; no man would doubt that this second pi­cture were more perfect, and more ex­pressing the art of the painter: So every mind, yea even ours, though created be­neath all others, hath from God, that as well as it can, it is a perfect, and living[Page 156]image of the infinite art. Therefore it is three and one, having power, wisdome, and the connexion of both, after such a manner, that as a perfect image of the art, being stirred up, it can more and more conforme its self to its samplar; So that our mind, though in the beginning of its creation, it have no actuall resplen­dence of the creating art, in Trinity and unity: yet it hath that concreated pow­er, that being stirred up, it can make it self more and more conformable to the actuality of the Divine art. And there­fore in the unity of its essence, is power, wisdome, and will: And in-its essence do coinside the master, and the mastery, as in a living image ot the infinite art, which being stirred up, can all wayes without end, make it self more and more conformable to the Divine actuality, the inaccessible precision of the infinite art alwayes remaining.

Orat.

Most wonderfully and plainly; but I pray thee how it the mind infused by creati­on?

Id.

Then haft heretofore heard me of this argument: Now take the same thing againe by another example.

Ath.
[Page 157]

Then the Idiot taking a glasse, and letting it hang down between his finger and thumb, he touched the glasse and it gave a found, and after a little while, the glasse was crack'd and the sound ceaseth. Then said the

Id.

In this fame hanging glasse, by my power, there arose a certaine power which moved the glasse, whence came sound; and when that proportion of the glasse in the which the sound was, and by consequence the motion resided was dissolved; the motion there ceased, and likewise upon the ceasing of the motion, the sound. But it that power had not depended upon the glasse, and therefore would not have ceased upon the crack­ing of the glasse, but have subsisted with­out the glasse; thou should'st have an example how that power is created in us, which makes motion and harmony, and then ceaseth to make it, when the propor­tion is dissolved, though for all that, it doth not cease to be. As if I, in giving thee a Lute, should in and with the Lute give thee the skill & cunning to play up­on a Lute, if the art and skill did not de­pend upon the given Lute, though given[Page 158]in and with the Lute; then although the Lute were broken, yet the art and skill for all that would not be dissipa­ted, though there were never a Lute found in the whole world that were fit for thee.

CHAP. XIV. How the mind is said to come down from the milky way, through the planets to the body, and so to returne: and how the notions of separated spirits are indelible, and ours de­lible.

Phil.

THou bringest fit and faire examples, for things so strange, and remote from sense; and because the Sun is ready to set, and so we can stay no longer toge­ther; tell us I pray the what the Philoso­phers mean, in saying that the souls came down from the milky way, through the Planets into bodies, and so return to the milky way againe? and why Aristotle willing to expresse the power of the soul, begins at Reason, saying, that the soul[Page 159]from Reason ascends to doctrine, from doctrine to intellectibility? but Plato, contrarywise, makes intellectibility the beginning, and saith, that by degenera­ting, intellectibility is made doctrine, or intelligence, and intelligence by de­generating becomes Reason.

Id.

I know not their writings; But peradventure the first that spoke of the assent and discent of souls, meant the same that Plato and Aristotle did: For Plato looking to the image of the Crea­tor, which is chiefly in intelectibility, where the mind conforms it self to the Divine simplicity; there placed the be­ginning, and made it the subfstance of the mind, which he will have remaine after death, & that by the order of nature pre­cedes the intelligence; but degenerates in­to intelligence, when it goes, back, from the divine simplicity, in which all things are one, and will behold all things in it self, as every thing hath a proper being distinct from another; afterwards the mind doth more degenerate, when by the motion of reafon, it comprehends things not in it self, but as the forme is invariable matter, where it cannot hold [Page 160]the truth, but declines into an image. Now Aristototle, who considered all things, as they fall under names imposed by the motion of Reason, makes Reason the E­lenment or beginning; and peradventure he saith, that Reason by discipline which is done by names, ascends unto intelli­gence, & afterwards higher unto intelle­tibility: And therefore he makes reason the Element to the ascent of the intel­lest: as Plato made intellectibility to the ascent thereof. And so there seem to be no difference between them, save in the manner of considering.

Phil.

Be this so: But tell me why all the Philosopers say, that every under­standing is of substance and accident; how is this true of God, and the first matter?

Id.

The understending concerning God, is an inflexion from the understan­ding of this name, Ens, or being: because the being of not being, that is being im­participably understood is God: And this understanding is the same, with that which is of substance and accident, but another way, that is inflexly considered. Wherefore the understanding conserning[Page 161]God, comprehends all understandings of substance and accidents, but is simple and one; but the understanding which had ot the first matter, is a certain bend­ing from that which is had of a body, for if thou understand abody un-bodily, that is, without all corporeal formes, thou understandest the same thing which signifies a body, but after another man­ne, because un-bodily which is without doubt, the understanding of the mat­ter.

Phil.

Doest thinke that the celestiall mind's created according to their intel­lectuall dgrees have also indelible noti­ons?

Id.

I thinke some Angells intel­lectible, as those of the highest orders; some intelligentiall as of the second, some rationall as of the third; and that in every order there are likewise so many degrees, that there are in the whole nine degrees, or quires; and that our mindes are so beneath the lowest degrees of such spirits; and above every degrees of corporall nature, that they are, as it were, the connexion of the university of things; the terme of perfection of the[Page 162]lower nature, and the beginning of the higher. For I thinke that the mindes of the blessed spirits that are without bodies, doe in rest possesse invariable notions; and such as are not by any oblivion to be defaced, because of the presence of the truth, which in­cessantly offers it self by way of object. And this is the happinesse of those spi­rits, that have attained the fruition of the Samplar of things. But our minds, because of their informitie, doe often forget the things they knew, though there remaine the concreated aptitude to know them again. For although they cannot without a body, be stirred up to an intellectuall progresse; yet because of their carelessenesse, aversions from the object, and distractions to divers and sundry things, and because of the bodi­ly troubles, they lose their notions. For the notions that we get here, in this variable and unstable world, according to the conditions thereof, are not con­firmed. For they are as the notions of Schollers and learners, that begin to profit, but are not yet brought to the Mastery: But the notions here acquired,[Page 163]when the minde proceedeth from the va­riable world to the unyariable, are like­wise translated to the invariable mastery: For when particular notions pass into the perfect mastery, they cease to be variable in the universall mastery, which before were particularly fluid and unfrable. So we are in this world docible, or to be­taught in the other, we are Masters.

CHAP. XV. How our minde is immortally, and imor­ruptible.

Phil.

IT now remaines that thou speak what thou thinkest of the im­mortality of our minde, that being instructed concerning it, as­much as may be in one day; I may re­joyce that I have profited in so many things.

Id.

They that make the intellectabili­tie, the element or beginning of the de­scent of the understanding, doe not think that the minde depends of the body. And they that make reason the begin­ning [Page 164]of the ascent of the understanding, and intellectability the end, doe not ad­mit that the mind dies with the body. But I cannot imagine that they who have any taste of wisdome, would ever deny the immortality of the mind; as I have already, as things came then into my mind, made it plaine to the Orator. So he which considers, that the behold­ing of the mind reacheth to that which is invariable, and that by the mind, forms are abstracted from variability, and are translated, into the invariable region of the necessity of complexion, he cannot doubt, but the nature of the minde is free from all variability. For it attracts to it selfe, what it abstracts from varia­bility; for the invariable touch of Ge­ometricall figures, is found not in pave­ments, but in the minde. And as long as the soul enquires and seekes through Organs, that which it finds is variable: but that which it finds, when it seekes by it selfe, is stable, cleare, bright, and fixed; and consequently not of the na­ture of things variable, which it reach­eth by sense, but of things invariable, which it findeth by it selfe.

[Page 165]Moreover the demonstration of the immortality of the minde, may be hun­ted out by number; for being a living number, that is a number numbering, and every number incorruptible in it selfe, although considered in variable matter, it seeme variable; the number of our minde cannot be conceived cor­ruptible; how then can the Author of an incorruptible numbe seeme corrupti­ble? Nor can any number evacuate the power of the mindes numbering. There­fore, whereas the motion of Heaven is numbered by the minde, and time is the measure of motion; time it selfe shall never evacuate the power of the mind, but that it shall abide as the terme, mea­sure, and determination of all things measureable. The instruments of the heavenly motions, proceeding from the minde of man, doe plainly shew, that motion doth not so much measure the minde, as the minde measures motion; so that the minde by its intellective mo­tions, seemes to complicate all succes­sive motion, the mind puts forth of it self the discursive motion, & so it is the form of moving; seeing then whatsoever is [Page 166]dissolved, is dissolved by motion, how should then the forme of moving be dis­solved by motion? The minde being the intelluali life, moving it selfe, that is, putting forth its life, that is, its un­derstanding; how can it chuse but live alwaies ? A motion moving it self, how can it ever faile? for it hath life inti­mately conjoyned, by which it is al­wayes living; even as asphear which is alwaies round, by a circle compact unto it.

If the composition of the minde bee the same, with a number compounded of it selfe; how is it possible to be resol­ved into that which is no minde? So if the minde be the coincidence of unity, and alterity, as number, how is it divi­sible,? seeing that in it divisibility co­insides with indivisible unity, if the minde doe complicate the same and di­vers, as understanding, divisibly and unitively, how shall it be destroyed? If number be the manner of the minds un­destanding, and in its numbring expli­cation, coincide with complication; how shall it faile? for that power hat in explicating complicates, as it is manifest the minde doth, cannot bee[Page 167]made lesse; for hee that numbers expli­cates the power of unity, and compli­cates number into unity, for a denary is a unity complicated of ten; so hee who numbereth , doth both explicate and complicate.

The minde is the image of eternity, but time the explication. And the ex­plication is alwayes lesse then the image of the complication of eternity. Now he who notes the jndgement of the minde concreated with it, by which it judgeth of all reasons, and that reasons are from the minde, sees that no reason can reach to the measure of the minde, Our minde therefore remaines unmea­surable, infinible, and in terminable by any reason, which onely the uncreated minde measureth, terminateth and boundeth, as the truth doth its living image, which is of it, in its and by it. How should the image perish, which is the respendence of incorruptible truth, unlesse the truth should abolish and put out its shining brightnesse, and resplendence. As therefore it is impos­sible, that infinite truth should with­draw its communicated resplendence, [Page 168]because it is infinite goodnesse; so it is impossible that the image thereof, which is nothing but the conmunicatd resplen­dence of it, should ever faile; as it is im­possible that when the Sun by his shining hath made day, it should ever cease to be day, till the Sun leave shining. The Christian religinon likewise which hath this yeare brought this innumerable people to Rome, and thee, Philosopher in­to a vehement admiration of them, which hath alwaies appeared in the world, though in diversity of manners, proves that the immortality of our minde, is naturally implanted in us, as the humanity of our nature; for we have no more certaine knowledge that we are men, then that wee have immor­tall mind, when the knowledge of both, is the common assertion of men. And these things thus spoken by an Idiot, I pray thee take in good part; and if they be not such, as thou upon the Orators un­dertaking, didst think to have heard, yet some thing there may be, which perad­venture may bring thee some helpe to higher things.

Ora.

I have beene during all this holy and[Page 169]sweet talke, much admiring thy minde, that hath so profoundly disputed of the minde: And now I finde by a most assured tryall, that the minde is the power that measureth all things, I thanke thee, Idiot, both on mine owne be­halfe, and on the behalfe of this stranger, the Philofopher, whom I brought, who I hope, will goe away much comforted.

Phil.

I doe not thinke, that ever I li­ved an happier day then this, I know not what will follow; I thanke thee, Crator, and thee, Idiot, whom I know to be a ve­ry speculative man, praying that cur mindes being stirred up with a wonder­full desire, by these dayes conference may be happly brought to the fruition of the eternall mind.

The end of the third Book of the Idiot.

The fourth Booke concer­ning statick Experiments; OR, Experiments of the Ballance.
Wherein the Speakers areThe Author. , • The Idiot. , and • The Oratour. 

Autbour.

THat Roman Oratour did much frequent the com­pany of the Idiot, that he might sometimes heare the conception of the man, which were alwaies welcome unto him. Upon a time as the Oratour commended the Ballance, the[Page 171]rule of justice, and an instrument right necessary for the Common-Wealth, hee was thus answered by the

Id.

Although nothing in this world can reach precision, yet wee finde by ex­perience, the judgement of the Ballance, one of the truest things amongst us; and therefore it is every where in request: but till me I pray thee, seeing it is not possible that in the same bignesse, there should be the same weight, if the things be of a divers Original: whether hath any man yet written of the axact, and expe­rimentally tryed differences of weights.

Ora.

Not that I have either read or heard.

Id.

I wish that some body would give the world such a consignation, I should esteeme it above many volumes of other Books.

Orat.

I thinke no man could doe it bet­ter then thy selfe, if thou wouldest undertake it.

Id.

It were an easie manner for any man to doe, for my part, I have no lea­sure.

Orat.

Tell me the profit of it, and the meanes how to doe it, and I will see what I my selfe, or some other, at my entreaty can doe at it.

Id.
[Page 172]

By the difference of weighty, I thinke wee may more truly come to the secret of things, and that many things may be known by a more probable con­jecture.

Ora.

Thou sayest true; for so I remember a certaine prophet saith, Pro. 16.11. The weight and the Ballance are the judgements of that Lord, who hath created Wisd. 11.17. all things in number weight and measure, who Prov. 8.28. weighed the fountaines of wa­ters and the greatnesse of the Earth, in a Bal­lance, as the wise man saith.

Id.

If therefore a like measure of the water of one fountain, be not of the same weight, with the like measure of the water of another; certainely the judge­ment of the Ballance, will in this case better shew the diversity of the nature of the one and the othery, then any other instrument.

Orat.

Tis true, And Vitruvius writing of Architecture, bids us chuse such a place to dwell in, as bath light and airy waters, and avoid them places, whose waters are heavie and earthy.

Id.

As then the water of the same fountains seeme to be of the same weight[Page 173]and nature, so the waters of divers fountaines, seeme to be of divers weights and natures.

Orat.

Seeme, saiest thou? As though they were not so indeed.

Id.

I confesse that the time may alter them; though sometimes nor possibly to be perceived; for without question, the water hath one weight at one season, and another at another. As likewise there is one weight of the water, neare the fountain or head, & another farther off. But these differences being scarce persceptible, are accounted as nothing.

Orat.

Dost thou thinke it is in all other things, as thou sayest it is in weter?

Id.

Yes truely, for the same greatnesse of whatsoever things are divers, never hath the same weight. Therefore there being one weight of blood, and another of the Urine; and of both these, one in a sound man, and another in a sick man; one in an old man, another in a young man; one in a German, another in an African, were it not very convenient for a Physitian, to have-all these differences noted?

Orat.

Nay more then that, for by these[Page 174]weights consigned, me might makg himselfe admirable.

Id.

For I conceive a Physician might give a truer judgement of the Urin, by the weight and colour both together, then by the deceitfull colour alone.

Orat.

Most certain.

Id.

So also the roots of Herbs, Stocks, Leaves, Fruits, Seeds, and Juyces, ha­ving their proper weights if now the weights of all Herbs were consigned, with the diversity of places; the Physi­cian might better reach the nature of them all by the weight and smell, then by the deceitfull taste.

Orat.

It is very true.

Id.

Then by comparing the weights of the Herbs, to the weight of the blood or Urin; he might know by the concor­dance, and difference of the medicines, what dose to prescribe, and many strange prognosticks might he make, and by sta­tick experiments, come by a more pre­cise conjecture to whatsoever may bee knowne.

Orat.

It it much to bee admired, that a­mong so many painfull searchers, all men have beene so negeligent in the signiture of wrights.

Id.
[Page 175]

Doest thou not thinke, that if one had an houre glass made with wa­ter, and out of a straight and narrow hole thereof, shouldest suffer so much water to runne into a Bason, as would runne, whilest the pulse of a sound young man would stick an hundred ; and then should doe the like, whilest a sicke mans pulse strock a hundred, that there would be a great deale of difference betweene the weights of those waters?

Orat.

Who doubts it.

Id.

By the weight of the water, there­fore a man might come to the diversity of the pulse, in a young man, and an old man, in a sicke man, and a sonnd man; and so by consequent, to the truer knowledge of the disease, see­ing there must of necessity bee one weight in one disease, and another in another. And therefore there might a more perfect judgement be given by such an experimentall difference of the pul­ses, and weight of Urin, then by the touch of the one, and the colour of the other onely.

Orat.

Thou sayest right.

Id.
[Page 176]

If one should further take particu­lar knowledge of the fetching of the breath, by the said habitude of waters, might he not give a more precise judge­ment?

Orat.

I confesse he might.

Id.

For if, while the water runnes out of the houre-glasse, one should tell a hun­dred breathings in a child, an a hundred in an old man, it is not possible the wa­ters should be of the fame weight. The same I say of other divers ages and com­plexions. If then a Physitian were cer­tainly informed of the weight of the breachings of a sound man, or a child, or a young man, or the like that were sick of divers infirmities; without doubt he might more certainely come to the knowledge of health, and the declining from health, and so to the administrati­on of remedies, by such an experiment.

Ora

Yea, even to the conjectures of the pe­riod.

Id.

Thou sayest well; for if he should find a young man the weight of an a­ged and decrepit man, he might the more certainly guesse at his death: And many more such admirable conjecstures might [Page 177]he make. Moreover, if in feavers he would, by the like meanes, note hot and cold paroxysmes by the difference of the weights of water, might he not the more truly reach to the efficacy of the disease, and the oportunity of the reme­dy?

Orat.

Certainly be might; for be should find the victory of one quality over another, of heat over cold, or on the contrary: and accor­ding to the habitude he found, he might apply the remedies.

Id.

I say further, that in divers Na­tions, and Regions, and Times, these things would be found divers, though in the self-same age. Therefore though it were difficult, yet it were ex­ceeding profitable, that the differences of weights were designed according to all these circumstances.

Orat.

It is so as thou sayest.

Id.

Nay, It seemeth unto me that the weight of all things is to be considered, as the middle of the diversity of weights, of things in the middle climate, I mean, in divers climates. As if we would con­sider the weight of a man, in compari­son to some other living wight; then we [Page 178]must take a man, not in the latitude as he is a Northern mane, or a Southerne, where there may be excesse on both sides, but rather as inhabiting the middle climate.

Orat.

Thou sayest very well. The Antients have called that climate, Dia Rhodon, be­cause it extendeth it self from the East to the West by the Islands Rhodes. But I pray thee, if thou shouldest seek the weight of a man, in comparison to some other living creature, what way would'st thou go?

Id.

I would put the man into one scale, and the like weight of some other thing into the contrary scale, to take the certaine weight of the man withall; Then would I put the man into water, and take the weight of him againe when he came out againe: and marke the dif­ference of those two weights; the like would I do with the other living crea­ture; and by the diversity of the weights, I would note the thing I sought. Then would I look to the diversity of the. weight of the man and the other weight, out of the water, and according to this I would moderate the weight found, and write it.

Orat.
[Page 179]

I do not understand this moderati­on.

Id.

I will shew thee.

Auth.

Then the Idiot tooke a light piece of wood, whose weight was as three; and in respect whereof water of the same bulke or bignesse would weigh as five; he divided the wood into two unequall parts, whereof the one was as one third part, and the other as two thirds, he put them both into a deep flaggon, and holding them down with a stick, he powred water upon them, then pulling away the stick the two pieces of wood rose to the top of the water, and the greater piece sooner then the lesse : Then he said,

Id.

Thou seest now that the diversity of motion, in the Identity of proportion, proceeds from hence, that in light wood, I the greater the wood be, the more light­nesse there is in it.

Orat.

I see it, and it pleaseth me well.

Id.

That is my meaning, that so mo­deration should be made; for if a man should have more weight and be more heavy then the other living creature, on­ly for his bignesse, then he must needs[Page 180]sinke faster into the water then the other. Wherefore then it behooveth that by di­minishing the moderation of the known difference, it must be done proportiona­bly according to the excesse.

Orat.

I understand now. But tell me, how doth the water resist the sinking of the wood?

Id.

As a greater heavinesse resisteth the lesse: for if thou presse a round piece of wood into wax, & then pull it out again, and fill the place with water; and then take the weight of the water, and of the wood; thou shalt find that if the weight of the wood exceed the weight of the wa­ter, of the wood will sinke; if not, it will swimme; and a proportionable part of the wood will, be above the water, accor­ding as the weight of the watter exceeds the weight of the wood.

Orat.

Why doest thou speak, of a round piece of wood?

Id.

Because if it be a broad piece, it will swim more lostily, in that it occu­pyeth more of the water: and therefore ships in shallow waters, had need be of more broad bottomes.

Otat.

Continue the purpose begun; whe­ther[Page 181]the weights of animals may be otherwise reached?

Id.

I thinke they may: For if one should fil a great, vessel full of water to the top, and then put that into another grea­ter; and then, take the weight of a man, as he is out of the water; and afterwards make the man go into the vessell full of water, and take and weight the water that runs over; and proceed in like manner with another man, or beast, or any other thing; and by the diversity of weights, thou mayest by a subtile inqui­ry, find that thou seekest for.

Orat.

Thou proceedest with a great deal of subtilety; and I have heard that by the same invention, the difference of mettals have been found, and that some have noted, how much the fusion of an ounce of wax gathers of gold, silver, copper, and so of all mettals.

Id.

Certainly he was much to be com­mended that by the fusion of wax under­stood the greatnesse, for he saw that if an ounce of gold filled the place of an ounce of wax, that then the weight of it, must needs be just as much, as the weight of an ounce of wax, and so of other met­tals; for it is most, certaine that there is[Page 182]one weight of gold, and another of silver, and another of other things, in the same bulke of bignesse, and that every thing hath one weight in the aire, and another in water, another in oyle or some other liquor. And if any man had all these weights ready noted and set downe, he might readily know, how one mettall is heavier then another in the aire, and how much in the water. So that any masse of mettall given, might by the di­versity of the weight thereof in the aire, and in the water, be known of what met­tall, and what mixture the masse is. And as I have said of aire and water, so also may be said of oyle, or any ather liquor wherein the experiment may be made.

Orat.

So indeed, without the melting of the mass, or seperation of the mettals, one might know the mixture: and the device were good in monies, to know how much copper there is in gold and silver.

Id.

Thou saiest true, and it were good to know the sophisticall worke of Alchymie how much they come short of truth.

Orat.

If any man then would purpose to write a booke of weights, he must as it seemes,[Page 183]note the variety of every mettall; for Hunga­rian gold is of one weight, and fine gold, which they call aurum obryzum of another; and so of all the mettals.

Id.

By what hath been spoken it ap­pears, that as in fountains, so in minerals there is found diversities of weight : yet gold wheresoever it be found is alwaies heavier then any other mettal: although the species thereof be found to be varyed within a certaine latitude: and so of the rest.

Orat.

But whether might not the habitude or proportion of the value of mettals be found out, by the habitude or proportion of their weights?

Id.

Lead is likest unto gold in weight, but not in perfection; and therefore we must not take heed to one weight onely, but to every kind of weight; for if one looke to the weight of the fire of fusion as well of gold as of lead; he shall find that lead comes not so near gold, as any other mettals doth. And if one looke to the weight of the fire, in the melting of iron, he shall find that iron comes nearer unto gold, then any other mettall doth; although if he look to the weight of hea­viness[Page 184]he shall finde it comes not so nigh: Therefore wee must looke upon all the weights, and not upon the weight of heavinesse onely, and so we shall finde that silver is next unto Gold.

Orat.

Vitruvius saith, speaking of the natural heavinesse of Gold, that it alone is drowned in quicke-silver, though it be of never so small a weight, when other mettalls swimme aloft, though they of never so great a bulke.

Id.

Quick-silver it naturally conjun­gible to all the mettals, because of some­thing, which it hath in common with them all; but it doth more amorously cleave and adheare to Gold, as that which is not perfect to its owne most per­fect nature. And for this cause, they that spend their time in Alchimy, strive to tame quick-silver in the fire, untill it doe not onely, not fly from the fire it selfe, but untill it likewise hold fast and fixed with himselfe, all other mettalls whereunto it is joyned. And not thus farre alone, but untill it also straine and compact them all into the weight of Gold, and colour them with a fixed and permanent colour, their owne flux­ible, and malleable moysture abiding still.

Orat.
[Page 185]

But doest thou thinke, that they can by this meanes bring their purposes to passe?

Id.

Precision is alwayes inattingible, but how much they profit, the Ballance must shew, without which they can doe nothing certaine. For by the judge­ment of the fire, and the Ballance, the truth of this question must be resolved.

Orat.

Might not all precious stones bee weighed in like manner.

Id.

No doubt of it, they might all be one by the same device, for a Diamond hath no weight; in respect of the same bignesse of lead, and a Saphire another. And by the diversity, may the habitude or proportion of lead to eithers weight be knowne, and so of all stones. And therefore it were very good to have these weights written down, by the way of a statick experiment, which the differences of their Orginalls, that if there were any sophistication done with Berill, or coloured Christal, they might be known and found.

Orat

Yea and further, there being one weight of a stone, in the aire, another in wa­ter, another in oyle, it were good these diver­sities [Page 186]were had, that without any habitude to leade, or any third thing, the difference of the weights might he known.

Id.

Thou sayest very well.

Orat.

Tell me, if thou bast any device, whereby the vertues of stones may be weigh­ed.

Id.

I thinke the vertue of the Load-stone might be weighed, if putting some Iron in one scale, and a Load-stone in the other, untill the ballance were even, then taking away the Load-stone, and some other thing of the same weight being put into the scale, the Load-stone were holden over the Iron, so that that scale wou'd begin to rise; by reason of the Load-stones attraction of the Iron, then take out some of the weight of the other scale, untill the scale wherein the Iron is, doe sinke againe to the aequilibrium, or equality still hol­ding the Load-stone unmovable as it was; I beleeve that by weight of what was taken out of the contrary scale, one might come proportionably to the weight of the vertue or power of the Load-stone. And in like manner, the verture of a Diamond, might be found [Page 187]hereby, because they say it hinders the Load-stone form drawing of Iron; and so other vertues of other stones, consi­deration, being alwayes had of the great­nesse of the bodyes, because in a greater body, there is a greater power and ver­tue.

Orat.

Might not a workman try also by this meanes, how much Mercury, and how much Sulphur every mettall containes? and so of stones likewise.

Id.

Certainly he might somewhat near finde out such things, by the concord and difference of weights: as also the elements of quick-silver, by the diversi­ty of its weight in the aire, in water, and in oyle, compared to oyle, water, & ashes of the same greatnesse weighed against it; and so of sulphur also. So that a man might by this meanes come to a true conjecture of the Elements of all mettals and stone, and the weight of those Elements.

Orat.

These be fine things, but might not the same be done in Herbs, and all the kinds of woods, flesh, living creatures, and hu­mors.

Id.

In all I thinke. For weighing a[Page 188]piece of Wood, and then burning it throughly, and then weighing the ashes, it is knowne how much water there was in the wood, for there is nothing that hath a heavie weight but water and earth. It is knowne moreover by the divers weight of wood in aire, water and oyle, how much the water that is in wood, is heavier or lighter then clean spring water, and so how much aire there is in it. So by the diversity of the weight of ashes, how much fire there is in them: and of the Elemens may bee gotten by a nearer conjecture, though precision be alwayes inattingible. And as I have said, of Wood, so may be done with Herbs, flesh and other things.

Orat.

There is a saying, that no pure ele­ment is to be given, how is this prov'd by the Ballance?

Id.

If a man should put an hundred weight of earth into a great earthen pot, and then should take some Herbs, and Seeds, & weigh them, and then plant or sow them in that pot, and then should let them grow there so long, untill hee had successively by little and little, got­ten an hundred weight of them, hee[Page 189]would finde the earth but very little di­minished, when he came to weigh it a­gaine: by which he might gather, that all the aforesaid herbs, had their weight from the water. Therefore the waters being ingrossed (or impregnated) in the earth, attracted a terrestreity, and by the opperation of the Sunne, upon the Herb were condensed (or were condensed into an Herb.) If those Herbs bee then burn't to ashes, mayest not thou guesse by the diversity of the weights of all; How much earth thou founderst more then the hundred weight, and then conclude that the water brought all that? For the Elements are convertible one into another by parts, as wee finde by a glass put into the snow, where wee shall see the aire condensed into water, and flowing in the glass. So wee finde by experience, that some water is turned into stones, as some is into Ice; and that there is in some fountaines a hardening and petrifying vertue, which turnes the things that are put into them, into stone. For so say they, there is a certaine wa­ter found in Hungary, which through the power of the vitriall which is in it, tur­neth[Page 190]Iron into Copper; for by such pow­ers and vertues, it is manifest that the waters are not purely elementary, but elementated. And it were very plea­sant to have the weights of all those wa­ters, of such divers vertues, that by the diversity of their weights in aire & oyle, one might come the nearer to the con­jectures of their vertues.

Orat.

Might one not doe so with the earth?

Id.

Yes, even with the earth; because one earth is fruitfull, and another bar­ren; and in one earth are found stones and minerals, and not in another: there­fore to the searching of the secrets of na­nature, it were exceeding advantageous to know the divers weights of divers earth's, in water, aire, and oyle: So by the diversity of the weights of wines, waxs, oyles, gummes, alums, onyons, leeks, gar­licke, and all such things; I thinke the vertues that are diversly in them, might be in some measure found out; and wee might give a neare conjecture of the weight of the whole earth: for the circum­ference of it, and the Diameter are both known; from whence may be had the capacity and the contents, and the num­ber[Page 191]of miles, therefore numbring but one solid inch of earth, from thence may easi­ly be deduced the weight of the whole capacity.

Orat.

These things would scarce be written in a huge volume.

Id.

Experimentall knowledge requi­reth large writings, for the more they are, so much the more easily may wee come from the experiments, to the Art which is drawne from them.

Orat.

Peradventure a man might in time rise by subtile conjectures, to the weight of the Aire.

Id.

If any man would in the one part of a great paire of Ballance, put a great deal of wool, dry, and hard pack't up, and in the other stones to a just counter poyse in a place and aire that were temperate; he should finde by experience, that when the aire declines to moysture, the weight of the wool would increase; and when it inclines to dryness, it would decrease; and by these differences he might weigh the air, and might give likely conjectures of the change of the times and weather. So if any man should desire to konw the divers strength of the Sun in divers cli­mats, [Page 192]if he would take & weigh a thousand graines, either or wheat or barly from the most fertil field of the one and the other, by the diversity of the weights, he might try the divers power of the sunne, for if the number and the field be alike fruitful in any place, the difference cannot be but in the sun. So mayest thou also hunt out the different vigour of the sun in moun­taines and vallyes, so it be in the same line of rising and setting.

Orat.

Whether might not a man, by letting a stone fall from a high tower, and letting wa­ter run out of a naorow hole, into a Bason in the meane time; and then weighing the water that is runne out, and doing the same with a piece of wood of equall bignesse, by the diversi­ty of the weights of the water, wood, and stone, attain to know the weight of the aire?

Id.

If a man should doe this, in divers towers of an equall height, and at divers times, he might come neare a likely con­jecture. But yet he might sooner reach the weight of the aire, by the diversity of figures or shapes, in things of equall hea­vinesse. As if I would let one pound of lead fall from a high tower, that were round, and take the water that ran from[Page 193]an hour-glass in the meane time; & then would do the same againe with the like weight of lead, that were broad, letting the water run in like manner: I might by the divers weights of the waters, reach to the weight of the aire: For we find by ex­perience, that birds doe abide more still when they spread their wings, because they take up more aire; as also that which is heavie, doth sooner sink in the water, if it be round, then if it be square. And peradventure the aire may yet be more easily weighed: as if equall bellows. were equally filled, in divers times and places, for by the motion of those equall bellows, water being dropped through an hour-glass, by an equall height, du­ring the time of the motion, and that weighed, by the proportion of water to water, of the divers times and places, it might be easily known. For looke in what proportion the more ponderous water did exceed, in the same proportion did the lightnesse of the aire of that bel­lows, exceed the lightnesse of the other bellows, whose water weighed lesse.

But the best way of al, is to take an emp­ty glasse full of aire, suppose the glasse[Page 194]weigh just a pound, if then stoping the hole with wax, thou put it down into the water, and that one pound weight pre­cisely, will hold it down under water, being laid upon it, then thou mayst pre­cisely say, that the aire in the glass is of the lightnesse of two pounds. So mayst thou know very near, the proportion of the lightnsse of on ayre to another, in di­vers places, times and regions.

By the like device also, by rneanes of a bellows, maist thou weigh smoak or winde: for if thou take a bellows full of aire, and then shut them in the smoak, pressing out the aire, and after pull them open, the smoake will fill the bellows, which thou mayest weigh as aire, and so make tryall whether smoak or aire bee lighter, and by how much: and so mayest thou doe with winde. Thou mightest also by the motion of the smoak, whilest so many droppes of water distill in the hour-glass, and the motion of fire, during the distillig of so many drops, guesse at the lightness of fire, above smoak, or aire. No, whatsoever we have said of water-hour-glasses, may perhaps be better try­ed by Sand-hour-glasses, made of glasse,[Page 195]or some fine earth, with one hole in the top, and another narrow one in the bot­tome of the vessell, that may be stopped with wax, or with ones finger, untill the very instant, that the tryall of weights were to be made: then opening the nar­row hole in the bottome, and taking the sand that runs into the bason, during the time of the motion of the light or heavie things; if the sand be weighed as I said of the water, by the weight of one sand to another, the weight of things might be knowne by a very neare guesse. And as by the foresaid devices by diver­sity of figures, the weight of the aire might be conjectured; so of the water likewise, and on the other side, the vari­ous capacity of figures or shapes.

Orat.

I have heard that some by meanes of a certain instrument, have gone about to finde out the depth of the Sea.

Id.

It might bee done with a piece of Lead, made after the fashion of the moon of eight dayes old, yet so, that one horn of it be heavier, & the other lighter, and on the lightest horn let an apple, or some o­ther light thing be made fast, with such an instrument, that the lead pulling down the[Page 196]apple after it to the bottom, and first tou­ching the ground with the heaviest part thereof, and so laying it seife along accordingly, the apple then loosed and freed from the horne, may returne up again to the top of the water, provided that thou have first the knowledge how long such a lead will be sinking, and the apple rising in a water of a known depth; for then by the diversity of the weights of the water, or sand of the hour glass, from the time of the throwing in of the lead, and the apples returne in di­vers waters, thou mayst finde what thou seekest.

Orat.

I believe that the deepnesse of the waters may be searched both by this, and other meanes. But tell me, may it not also be guessed at, by this meanes what way a ship makes in the sea?

Id.

As as how?

Orat.

By throwing an apple, as far as one can, out of the prow, or fore-part of the ship, and then letting the water run frm the houre-glasse, till the ship come to the apple, and com­paring the weight of the water at one time with the weight of it at another time.

Id.

Both by that, and otherwise, as[Page 197]the shooting an arrow from a crosse­bow, and the ships comming to the ar­row with the weight of the water in the meane time.

Orat.

The knowledge of the strength of bowes and other engines, may as it seems, be proportionably enquired, by the flowing of the water out of the houre-glasse, from that point of time, wherein the shaft is shot diametrally up­wards, and returnes unto the earth againe, provided that in divers engines, the shafts be alwayes equall.

Id.

Not onely the strength of bowes, and engines, but of winds also, the fly­ing of fowles, the running of men, and beasts, and whatsoever is of the like kind, may conjecturally be sought out by these statick experiments, and the run­ning of water from an houre-glasse.

Orat.

How may the strength of a man be known by this meanes?

Id.

Make a paire of scales even, then let a man lay hold of one of them, and in the other put as much weight as he can by the utmost of his strength pluck up from the ground till the ballance be e­ven: (which will be found more true (say I) if he have a rest to stay one or [Page 198]both his feet against) then take the weight of that which he hath pulled up, and deducting the weight of the man himself, all the remainder of the weight is portioned to his strength.

Orat.

Might not the breath of a man be so weighed?

Id.

There is one weight of the same man, when he drawes in or holds his breath, another when he breathes it out; one weight of a man, whilest he lives, a­nother when he is dead; And so in all living things. And therefore it were good to have these differences noted, in di­vers living things, and divers men, and divers ages of men, that so by conjecture, a man might ascend to the weight of the vitall spirits.

Orat.

Might we not by the same way, hunt after the heat and cold, the drinesse and moistures of the weather?

Id.

That we might assuredly; for if in frosty weather, thou marke the weight of the water before it be frozen and af­ter, thou shalt find it differ: For seeing ice swim above the water, thou must needs know it is lighter then water; and therefore according to the intense­nesse [Page 199]of the cold, there is a greater dif­ference of the weight; Or if thou weigh green wood, and after a time, find the weight of it altered, thou shalt know hereby the exceise of heat and cold, moy­sture and drought.

Orat.

May not the time of the day be so weighed?

Id.

If thou let the water run out of the houre-glass from the Sun rising one day, till the Sun rising on the morrow; and then shalt let it run another day, begin­ning at the Sun rising, by the proportion of the water, that ran last, to the weight of that which ran the first day, thou mayst know the houre & time of the day.

Orat.

It may be one may so know the time of the yeare?

Id.

Yes, if for a yeare together, thou every day, let the water run through an hour-glass, from the sun-rising to the sun-setting; and observe the weight, thou mayst by the ballance at any time give a near guesse, both at the day of the moneth, and hour of the day, though in those dayes which are shortest, the diffe­rence be lesse certain then in others.

Orat.

I see that by this invention one may reach even the motion of the heavenly bodies,[Page 200]as Nimrod is said to have done, and Hippar­chus to have written.

Id.

Thou sayest true, though in this case there be great need of a diligent discourse, for if any man noting a fixed star in the Meridionall line, would ga­ther and note the water, running from the hour-glass, untill the returne of the same star to the same place, and would doe the like with the sun from his rising, to his rising again the next day, he might finde the motion of the sun to the east, by the diversity of the lesser-nesse of the wa­ters weight, of the stars motion from the meridional line, to its return to the same place, respectively to the motion of the Sun, from his rising to his rising, for by how much lesse it were by so much, lesse in comparison to the weight of the whole, were the motion in order to the equinoctiall circle, not to the Zodiack, which is not described upon the poles of the world, but its owne. So if any man would by the same starre try, how much the Sun were moved in fifteen dayes, he might doe it in the same manner, by the divers distance of the Suns rising respe­ctively to the place of that star in the[Page 201]Meridian line, As for example, if to day the distance of the place of that star, in the line from the Suns rising, be found in some proportion by the hour-glass, to the weight of the water of the whole revolu­tion of the star; and in fifteen dayes af­ter, it be found in another proportion, by the diversity of these porportions the motion might be proved, so it be alwaies in the equinoctiall.

Orat.

May the motion in the Zodiack be thus found?

Id.

It may certainly, by the the mo­tion of the Sun, from noon to noon, and from the East to the East; and from the East to the West: for by these differences, the declination of the Zodiack, from the equinoctial might be reached.

Orat.

And what may be done concerning the variety of the motions, which is said to be caused by the Eccen trick?

Id.

That also may be found out, when in a yeare thou shalt finde the enequali­ty in the Zodiack, in equall dayes; for the Sun moved in the summer time from the equinoctiall, returnes not unto the equinoctiall againe, in the same number of dayes that it doth in winter, as it doth [Page 202]in winter, when it returnes sooner; for it would not be found to have spent just so many dayes, in going from Libra to Aries, as from Aires to Libra. By which difference would appeare the eccentrick, or little circle of the spicycle, by the difference of the motion.

Orat.

And what of the greatnesse of the Suns body?

Id.

By the weight of the water, that runs in the houre-glass, in the equinocti­all, from the beginng of the rising of the Sun, untill he be quite above the Hori­zon, in the habitude unto the water of the stars revolution, is knowne the near­est habitude of the greatnesse of the Suns body unto his sphear. Yet there is ano­ther way to finde out the greatnesse of of the Suns body, in the Eclipses thereof.

Orat.

As how?

Id.

we will finde out the motion of the Moon, as we have done that of the Sun. Then by the eclips, and motion thereof through the shadow of the earth, we seek the greatnesse of the Moon in order, or proportion to the divers shadow of the earth: by which we conjecture the middle porportion, to be that of the Moons[Page 203]greatnesse unto the earth. Then by the motion of the Moon, and the eclips of the sun: we hunt after the suns distance from the earth, and his greatnesse: and though it be a subtile enquiry, yet is it but con­jecturall.

Orat.

By what thou hast already said, it should seem that all diversities of motions, and eclipses of the Sun and Moon, yea the pro­gresses of all the Planets, their stations, retro­graditions, directions, and eccentricities may be knowne by one and the same divise, of the ballance and hour-glass.

Id.

Thou mayst doe it thy self, if thou labour subtilty to collect the differences.

Ora.

What think'st thou of the judgements of the stars.

Id.

I thinke that by the variety of the weights of the water, in severall yeares, and certaine other differences in the weights of woods, herbs and graine, one may guesse at the future plenty or scarci­ty of Corne, better and sooner by expe­riments past, then by the motion of the stars. For if in March, there be such a proportion of weight found in water, ayre and woods, then will follow fruit­fulnesse of the earth; if otherwise,[Page 204]barrennesse, or at the best mediocrity. The like of warres, pestilence, and all o­ther ordinary things. And this is the root, whereby in these second causes wee hunt after the judgement of the starres. As by the increase, or decrease of mar­row in living Creatures, Fishs, and Sea­crabes, in Trees and Rushes, wee seeke to know the age of the Moon; and by the ebbing and flowing of the Sea, her place in the heavens,

Orat.

I have heard that the Egyptians used to foresee the disposition of the yeare, by the plentyfull or scarce overflowing of Nilus.

Id.

There is no country, where, if one would marke it, a man might not finde the like judgement; as by the fatnesse of fishes and creeping things, in the begin­ning of winter, we conjecture that there will be a great and long-lasting cold, a­gainst which wise nature provideth in li­ving Creatures.

Orat.

What thinkest thou of the questions made to Astrologers, might there not be found by thy divice, an equall answer to them all?

Id.

Although not an equall one, yet I thinke (because thou shalt in every re­gard finde me a meare Idiot) there may [Page 205]be this way, some answer made. But how a conjecture may bee given of all things that are demanded, it inquires a great enquiry. Nor is the manner how to do it fit to be written in books, though perad­venture the answerer can not gather the weight of the answer, but by the weight of the question, for the incitation or stirring up, of him that moves the questi­on, to aske, seemes to be moved by some fore-sight of the future event, though himselfe see not from whence the moti­on comes; as he which feels somewhat in his eye, which he seeth not, askes of another, that he would see what it is that hurts him.

Orat.

I think thou meanest, as in the wheel of Pythagoras, by the various combination of the name of the asker, his mother, the houre of the day, and the light of the moon, there is a way taught of giving answers: Or as a Pro­phet makes judgement from lots, or casuall rea­ding of Sibills books, or the Psalter; or from houses or Geomantick figures, or the chattering of birds, or the bending of the flame of fire, or the relation of a third man, or any other casu­all chance that interveines.

Id.

There have been such that have in­directly [Page 206]sought to give answers, by con­ference which they had with the asker, in making him tell some newes of the dis­position of his country, if the impul­sive spirit must needs manifest it selfe in long discourses. For if the demander en­clined to sad talk, such was the event of the thing thought to bee; is if to glad and merry speach, then the isse would be accordingly. But I imagined conjectures might bee formed accordingly to the face, garments, motion of the eyes, form of words; and of weights, looking up­on the Lot of those things which I bide the demander again and again should be brought unto me; yet the more precious conjectures were from him, from whom some truer thing fell without premedita­tion, in whom a certain presaging spirit seem'd to speake, neverthelesse in this matter, I neither thinke the art possible, nor that he that hath it, can communi­cate his judgement, nor that a wise man ought to employ himselfe about it.

Orat.

Thou saiest very well, For St. Au­stine reports that in his time, there was a cer­tain drunken companion, who could discerne the thoughts of mens minds, discover theeves,[Page 702]and shew other secret things, after a strange manner, and yet was in the meane time, a light vaine follow, and no wise man.

Id.

I know that I my self have foretold many things as the spirit gave it to me, and in the meane time, was utterly igno­rant of the cause. At length I seemed to see, that it was not lawfull for a grave man to speake without cause, and so ever after I held my peace.

Orat.

Seeing then there is enough said, concerning these motions of the stars, add some­thing now of Masick.

Id.

To musick, the Experiments of the Balance are most profitable. For by the diversity of weights of two Bells, that sound a tone, it is knowne in what proportion of harmony the tone consisteth. So also by the weight of Pipes, and of Waters that fill the Pipes, is knowne the proportion of a Diapason, Diapente, and Diatessaron, and all other Harmonyes that are any wayes forma­ble. Likewise by the weight of Ham­mers, form whose blowes upon an Anvil, there ariseth any hammer; and by the weight of droppes, that droppe from some Rock into a Pond, and make di­vers[Page 208]sounds, and of Pips and all other musicall instruments, the reason is best, and most precisely reached by the Bal­lance.

Orat.

Is it so in voices and songs?

Id.

Yes, generally all harmonicall concords are most subtilly found out by weights: yea, the weight of a thing is properly the harmonicall proportion, arising from the various combination of divers things. Also the friendships and enmities of living Creatures, and of men of the same species, and whatsoever else, is weighed by harmonicall concor­dances and contrary dissonances: So the health of a man is weighed by har­mony, and sicknesse by that which is contrary to harmony; nay, after the same manner also, lightnesse and heavi­nesse, prudence and simplicity, and ma­ny such things, if thou marke diligent­ly.

Orat.

What thinkest thou of Geome­try?

Id.

I thinke the nearest proportions of the circle, and the square, and all o­ther things which belong to the diffe­rence of the capacity of figures, may[Page 209]fitly be proved by weights, then any o­ther wayes. For, if thou make a vessell like a column of a known Diameter and height, and another like a Cube of the same Diameter and height, and then fill them both with water, and weigh the water; by the diversity of weights will appeare unto thee, the proposition of the square to the circle. And by this meanes thou mayst give a guesse at the squaring of a circle, and whatsoever, about this, thou desirest to know. So if thou take too equall plates, and bending one of them round into a circle, make thereof a piller-fashioned vessell; and of the other makest a cubick square one, and then fillest these vessells with water; Thou shalt by the differing weights of water, know the different capacity of a circle, and a square of the same circumference. So having many such plates every way equall, thou mayst search the differen­ces of the capacities in a triangled, a five cornered, a six cornered vessell, and so forth. In like manner, by weight thou mayst come to the knowledge of capa­cities of vessells, of what shape soever; and to instruments of measuring and [Page 230]weighing. How Ballances are made. How one pound weight can life up a thousand, by the distance thereof from the Center, and the various descent, ei­ther straight or crooked. And how all the subtill instruments of Ships, and other engines ought to bee made. And therefore I thinke this statick know­ledge very profitable, for whatsoever belongs to Geometry. Thou mayst al­so, if thou wilt, and beest crurious weigh, the numbers of Haires, Leaves, Graines, Sands, in one bushell, or of any thing else, if putting a small quantity in the Ballance, and taking the weight and number of them, thou afterward weigh the whole. For by the propor­tion of weight to weight, thou mayst know the proportion of number to number.

Orat.

Thou hast now explained the causes, why thou wishest the weights of things were ta­ken by the ballance, and orderly written. It is very likely the booke would bee exceeding pro­fitable: great wen would be solilited, that in divers provinces they might be consigned, and brought into one; that so we might be the more easily lead to many things, that are yet hid­den[Page 231]from us: For my part I will not cease to further the doing of it every where.

Id.

If thou lovest me, be diligent in it, and so farewell.

FINIS.

Printed or Sold by Will. Leak at the signe of the Crown in Fleet-street, between the two Temple Gates,

These Bookes following.

MAn became guilty, or the corruption of nature by sin, written in French by Iohn Francis Se­nault, and englished by Henry Earl of Monmouth. Yorks Heraldry. Bible of a very faire large Ro­man letter quarto. Orlando Furioso. Callis learned Readings, on the statute 23. of Henry 8. Chap. the 5th. of Sewers. Perkins on the Lawes of England. The persons Law. Topicks in the Lawes of England. Wilkinsons Office of Sheriffs. Vade mecum of a Justice of Peace. The Book of Fees. Sken de significatione verborum. Delamans Vse of the Horizontall Qurdrant. Mathemati­call Recreations. Wilbyes second set of Musick 3.4.5. & 6. parts. Corderius in english by Brinsley. The Fort Royall of the Scriptures, or a Vade mecum concordance, presenting to the world one hundred heads of Scriptures, most of them com­mon placed for publike use. Dr. Fulkes Meteors.[Page] Malthus Fier-workes. Nies Gumery and Fire­workes. Cato Major, with Annotations, by Wil. Austin Esq Mell Helliconium, by Alex­der Rosse. Nosce te ipsum, by Sir Iohn Davis. Annimadversions on Lillis Grammer. The Hi­story of Vienna & Paris. The Spanish Mandevile of Miracles. Lazarillo de Tormes. Christ pas­sion, with Annorat by George Sands. Hero and Leander, by Christopher Marlow, and George Chap­man. Aicilla or Philotas, loving folly. Epi­grams Divine, and Morrall, by Sir Thomas Vrchard. Mayers Catechism 80. A direction or discovery of an notable fraud committed by R. B. a semina­ry Priest of Rome, upon two of the Articles of the Church of England. Eccersitatio Scolastica, 80 Perkins young mans guide to godlinesse. Millita­ry instructions 80. The old Religion, by Ios. Hall

Playes.

Henry the fourth. Philaster. Maides Trad­gedy. King and no King. The grateful Ser­vant. The strange discovery. The Hollander. Othello the more of Venice.

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