Peripateticall institutions. In the way of that eminent person and excellent philosopher Sr. Kenelm Digby. The theoricall part. Also a theologicall appendix of the beginning of the world. / By Thomas White Gent. — Institutionum peripateticarum. English

Peripateticall institutions. In the way of that eminent person and excellent philosopher Sr. Kenelm Digby. The theoricall part. Also a theologicall appendix of the beginning of the world. / By Thomas White Gent. — Institutionum peripateticarum. English

Table of contents

[1]

Title page

§

The Method of Studying.

The Translatour's ADDRESSE.

The Authour's DESIGN.

THE TABLE.

FIRST BOOK. Containing that part of LOGICK, which is necessary to Sciences.

SECOND BOOK. Containing those things which concern the Nature of BODIES, in common.

THIRD BOOK. Containing those things which concern the WORLD, and its greater Parts.

FOURTH BOOK. Containing that part of METAPHYSICK, which explicates the Essentiall Notions of BODIES.

FIFTH BOOK. Containing that part of METAPHYSICK, which treats of SUBSTANCES ABSTRACTED from Matter, & of the Operation of Things.

APPENDIX.

ERRATA.

Peripateticall INSTITUTIONS. First Book. Containing that part of LOGICK vvhich is necessary to SCIENCES.

LESSON I. Of Propositions as they are the parts of a Syllogisme.

LESSON II. Of a Syllogism and its Conclusion.

LESSON III. Of the Predicaments in Common, and the three first in particular.

LESSON IV. Of the rest of the Predicaments.

LESSON V. Of the five Predicables, and the signification of Words.

LESSON VI. Of Definition, Division, and Disputation.

Peripateticall INSTITUTIONS. Second Book. Containing those things vvhich concern the nature of BODIES in common.

LESSON I. Of the Composition of Bulk or Bignesse.

LESSON II. Of the Nature of Quantity and Place.

LESSON III. Of Time and Locall Motion.

LESSON IV. Of the four First Qualities.

LESSON V. Of the Elements.

LESSON VI. Of Mixtion, and the second Qualities, or those vvhich most immediately follovv Mixtion.

LESSON VII. Of the manner of Mixtion, and the Passion of mixt things.

LESSON VIII. Of Impassibility, Destruction, and the Accidents of Mixt bodies.

LESSON IX. Of the Motion of heavy and light bodies, and the Conditions of Acting.

LESSON X. Of the Motions of Vndulation, Projection, Reflection, and Refraction.

LESSON XI. Of the Electricall and Magneticall Attractions of hot bodies.

LESSON XII. Of the generation of more compounded Bodies, and Plants.

LESSON XIII. Of the more universall parts of Plants.

LESSON XIV. Of the Accidents of Plants.

LESSON XV. Of the generation and augmentation of Animals.

LESSON XVI. Of the Motion of the Heart, and some consequents of it.

LESSON XVII. Of the progressive Motion of Animals.

LESSON XVIII. Of the five senses of Animals.

LESSON XIX. Of the Objects of the Senses.

LESSON XX. Of Knovvledge and Memory.

LESSON XXI. Of Sleep and Dreams.

LESSON XXII. Of Passions and the expression of them.

LESSON XXIII. Of the communicating Affections to others.

LESSON XXIV. Of the seeming-rationall Actions of Animals.

Peripateticall INSTITUTIONS. Third Book. Containing those things, which concern the WORLD and its greater Parts.

LESSON I. Of the limitation, unity, and composition of the World.

LESSON II. Of the Mortality and kinds of those things that are in the World.

LESSON III. Of the parts of the Planetary World, and especially those of the Earth.

LESSON IV. Of the Sea, and its Accidents.

LESSON V. Of Fountains, Rivers, and Lakes.

LESSON VI. Of the Aire, & those things vvhich are done in it near the Earth.

LESSON VII. Of Clouds, Rain, Snovv and Hail.

LESSON VIII. Of fiery Meteors appearing in the Aire.

LESSON IX. Of truly fiery Meteors, hanging in the Aire.

LESSON X. Of the generation and nature of Winds.

LESSON XI. Of Earth-quakes and their Effects.

LESSON XII. Of the Meteors of the other parts of the World; and especially of Comets.

LESSON XIII. Of the Ebbing and Flovving of the Sea, and its Accidents.

LESSON XIV. Of the Motion of the Earth, and the Causes of it.

LESSON XV. Of the Oppositions against the Motion of the Earth and, of its effects.

LESSON XVI. Of the Motion of the Aire vvith the Earth; and its effects.

LESSON XVII. Of the causes of the Motion of the Moon and other Stars.

LESSON XVIII. Of the Primum Mobile, the Duration, and Quiddity of the World.

Peripateticall INSTITUTIONS. Fourth Book. Containing that part of METAPHYSICK, which explicates the Essentiall Notions of BODIES.

LESSON I. Of the divisibility of Substance, into Formall parts.

LESSON II. Of the Formall parts of Substance, in particular.

LESSON III. Of the Vnity and distinction of Bodies in common.

LESSON IV. Of the essentiall unity and distinction of the Elements and mixt bodies.

LESSON V. Of the Essence of Animals, and of the Soul.

LESSON VI. Of the Chief Animal and the essentiall distinction of Bodies.

LESSON VII. Of the mutation of the Individuality in the severall kinds of Bodies.

LESSON VIII. Of the proper Action of the Chief Animal.

LESSON IX. Of the Soul of the Chief Animal, or, of the MIND.

LESSON X. Of the Proficiency and Deficiency of Man, and of his Essence.

Peripateticall INSTITUTIONS. Fifth Book. Containing that part of METAPHYSICK, which treats of SUBSTANCES ABSTRACTED from Matter, and of the Operation of Things.

LESSON I. Of the Souls separation from the Body.

LESSON II. Of the Science of a separated Soul, and its unity vvith the Soul.

LESSON III. Of the eminency of a separated Souls acts, above those it exercises in the Body.

LESSON IV. Of the Felicity and Infelicity of separated Souls, and their Immutability.

LESSON V. Of the nature of Existence, and its Vnity vvith the Thing.

LESSON VI. Of the Existence, Simplicity, and Eternity of GOD.

LESSON VII. Of the Perfection, Immutability, and Science of God.

LESSON VIII. Of the Divine Volition and Liberty.

LESSON IX. Of the Divine Names, hovv they are improperly spoken of God.

LESSON X. Of the degrees of impropriety in the Divine Names.

LESSON XI. Of the Existence, Nature, and Science of INTELLIGENCES.

LESSON XII. Of the comparison of Intelligences to Souls and Bodies.

LESSON XIII. Of the Distinction, Subordination, and Number of Intelligences.

LESSON XIV. Of the Action of GOD, Intelligences, and Bodies, severally.

LESSON XV. Of the cooperation of the Agents, to the making of Substances, a rationall Soul, and to all other effects.

LESSON XVI. Of the government of God, and the locality of Incorporeall Things.

LESSON XVII. Of the Conservation of Creatures, and the Durations of Things.

LESSON XVIII. Of the manner of Action, on the Subject's side.

[2]

Title page

To the READER.

A Theologicall Appendix. Of THE BEGINNING OF THE WORLD.

CHAP. I. A Philosophicall discourse, concerning the Creation of Heaven and Earth.

CHAP. II. An Explication of GENESIS concerning the same.

CHAP. III. A Philosophicall discourse of the vvorks of the tvvo first daies.

CHAP. IV. An explication of Genesis concerning the same.

CHAP. V. A Philosophicall discourse of the vvorks of the other four days.

CHAP. VI. An Explication of Genesis concerning the same.

CHAP. VII. Some Animadversions about the Text of the first Chapter of Genesis.

CHAP. VIII. A naturall Discourse of the Creation of MAN.

CHAP. IX. An explication of Genesis, concerning the Creation of MAN.

CHAP. X. An explication of the same, concerning the Creation of WOMAN.

CHAP. XI. An explication of Genesis concerning PARADISE.

CHAP. XII. The History of ADAM'S FALL, out of Genesis.

CHAP. XIII. Of the Punishment of our first Parents: out of the same.

CHAP. XIV. Of the Evils deriv'd to posterity: out of the same.

CHAP. XV. Of the Propagation of Mankind: out of the same.

CHAP. XVI. Of the FLOUD: out of the same.

CHAP. XVII. Of the Cessation of the Deluge: out of the same.

CHAP. XVIII. Of the Covenant made vvith NOE after the Floud: out of the same.

CHAP. XIX. Of the second propagation of Mankind into severall Countries: Out of the same holy History.

§

§

§

[Page]

Peripateticall INSTITUTIONS. In the Way of that eminent Person and excellent Philosopher Sr. KENELM DIGBY. The THEORICALL PART.

ALSO A THEOLOGICALL APPENDIX of the BEGINNING of the WORLD.

BY THOMAS WHITE Gent.

LONDON, Printed by R. D. and are to be sold by John Williams at the sign of the Crown in S. Paul's Church-yard. M.DC.LVI.

§

[Page]

Virg. Georg. 2.

Happy who things Causes has attain'd to know,

And all Fears and inexorable Fate

Has trampled under feet:—

The Method of Studying.

Whoe're profoundly searches after Truth,

And would not be misled by stragling Paths;

Let him turn on himself his inmost Eye,

And bend into a Ring his ranging Thoughts;

Making his Soul see what she seeks abroad

In her own native Treasures stor'd up lies:

What the black cloud of Errour hid, will soon

Shine clearer then the Sun it self at noon.

Boet. de Consol. Philosoph lib. 3. Metr. 11.

[Page]

The Translatour's ADDRESSE.

THis happy Analysis of Nature, which the infinite kindness of my beft Friend, the Authour, has encourag'd and enabled some pains of mine own to render plain English to my self, I dutifully present to my Country: Where so many clear Wits and strong Judgements (the perfect Aptitude to such a Philosophy) may, through the want or disuse of Latine, be disabled, or, by the extream concisenesse of the Stile, and incorrectnesse of the Presse, discourag'd from strugling for It in the Originall. The Subject, Nature and her generall course, is universall and practically indifferent to all Nations: it seems, therefore, but just her Interpreter, Philosophy, should speak all languages; at least to that fair degree of currentnesse, as abstracted Reason it self is, every where, intelligible. [Page] Upon this resentment, the incomparable Sir Kenelm Digby (whose Expression would I could glory so proportionably to have hit, as my Master may his Mind) began lately to teach it Our Idiom; which it so soon and perfectly attain'd, as clear evidences His to be the truly-Naturall Philosophy: What ingenuous Courage, once throughly engag'd (and under so sure a Champion) the same advantagious Way, in the same noblest Field, could resist the temptation to follow such a Leader and such Successe, upon so necessary a Design? In short, I have dar'd: nor, I hope, altogether unfortunately; at least, if an Authentick touch of Illustration, upon most of the knots and obscurities, in the Originall both Matter and Delivery, may excuse the tolerating still some few Terms, purely out of the stubbornnesse of their Nature, unreduc'd and, perhaps, unreducible. These, Reader, are the Translatour's Apology and Addresse: the Authour's, His known Name and the Work it self.

[Page]

The Authour's DESIGN.

IN what darknesse Philosophy lies hudled up, and how perplexing Chimaera's reduce it to desperation, 'tis needlesse to mention: They see't, whoever see any thing in it. As superfluous, therefore, 'twere to Apologize, why I would lend it my slender endeavours. Why, such as you see, I offer them, take this Account.

[Page] The main fault seem'd to me to lye at their doores, who neither do themselves nor can endure others should expect any certainty from It. Of these I have observ'd two sorts: Some there are that avouch as much of Geometry it self: some, that attribute this, not to the defect of Nature, but to the difficulty of the Matter, and the intricatenesse of Natures folds. And, I was about to provide a preambulatory disputation to the former: when this Dilemma [Page] came into my head, that, They either admit the evidence of a legitimate Syllogism, or not: if they admit it, they cannot contest against Geometry; if they admit it not, I saw not what farther evidence there was in Nature able to force them: They were, therefore, desertours of humane Nature; nor otherwise to be dealt with, then as Mad-men. Turning, then, to the later sort, I saw ther's no so smart proceeding as the Geometricall way; where, when [Page] 'tis ask'd whether a thing can be demonstrated? the Affirmer, producing a demonstration, presently destroyes the Probleme: So, I thought, I was to proceed by Instances, if I meant to perswade any thing. Thence sprung this grain of Mustard-seed; which, to what growth it may hereafter rise, 'tis not yet evident.

Why I have stiled them Institutions, the shortnesse and concise connection of the work sufficiently discover. I call them Peripateticall, because, [Page] throughout they subsist upon Aristotle's Principles; though the conclusions sometimes dissent. That I declare them written in the way of that eminent Person and excellent Philosopher Sir Kenelm Digby; 'tis, because, since, in that so justly-to-beenvy'd Book, Of the Immortality of the Soul, he has dissected the whole composition of Nature, from the first Notion of Body, to the very joynts and articles of an invisible spirituall Soul, and [Page] laid it before the eyes of all; any other way, then that He had traced out, I neither would nor could proceed. Whatever, therefore, you meet with, upon that Subject, is borrow'd thence: but so, as that I have transferr'd only the naked Bones, scarce hanging together by their sinews; wholly destitute of those Nerves and Colours with which they are sated there. There look for Nature, where you shall misse neither Oratour nor Philosopher: [Page] we only act the part of Abridgers or Summulists. The other things which are treated through this whole work, ly yet hid in His Cabinet, expecting the pains of greater leisure. If I have call'd this the Theoricall part; I would not, thence, have you expect another Practicall one: for, I meant only to declare, that I touch't nothing upon the Morall. In Logick you have a little; yet, something, unlesse I'm deceiv'd, more then need: for, few Precepts [Page] are to be prescrib'd for Use, but a great deal of exercise. Out of the rest, if I have cut off the intricate and unprofitable petty Questions; methinks I have deserved thanks.

Do you ask, What fruits I expect? That you should believe there is, in Nature and in things beyond Nature, a no-lesse connection of Terms & force of Consequences, then in Mathematicks: For, this the Order, and Brevity, and the invincible firmnesse, surely, of some Consequences will [Page] obtain of an unobstinate person. This if I shall have attain'd; since all Science is lastly resolv'd into the unity of Definitions▪ I hope, naturall Science will be rescu'd from desperation. I have divided the Books into Lessons and very frequent Breaks: both for the greater clearness & commodity of Citation; as also, because, conceiving the entrance into these Institutions would be scarcely open to Novices, without the help of some more skilfull, I have call'd a Lesson [Page] so much as may, at one fitting, be explicated; a Break, that which at one breath, or with one effort of the Mind and Voice; to afford, betwixt the Breaks, a breathing space from speaking.

To the Auditours, Questioning is permitted, in that kind as may make them understand the things propos'd; Opposition is prohibited, till they have, once or twice, run through the whole Work: For, whilst they are yet ignorant of what lies hid in the things to [Page] follow; by forestalling the order, they spoil the Discourse, whilst they tamper with objecting. The Work is but short; and, for a little while, the affection of Credulity may be fairly exacted in a Learner, that he may clearly apprehend the things propos'd: When he shall have understood against what he's to object, there will be liberty enough of disputing.

You see, a Walk or Garden may serve well enough for this exercise: I have therefore given you a volume which will [Page] not load your Pocket. I have follow'd that Method which the necessity of consequences drew on, not, the rules of Logick prescrib'd, though yet it be not averse from this. If you blame the Obscurity,Aristotles orall Instructions to Alexander. remember, Acroases are so to be published, that they become not publick: that their penetration may be difficult without a Clue, yet not unpassable to a resolute pursuance.

[Page]

THE TABLE.

FIRST BOOK.
Containing that part of LOGICK, which is necessary to Sciences.

LESSON I. OF Propositions, as they are the parts of a Syllogism. Pag. 1.

II. Of a Syllogism and its Conclusion. 4.

III. Of the Predicaments in common, and the three first in particular. 8.

IV. Of the rest of the Predicaments. 13.

V. Of the five Predicables and the signification of words. 16.

VI. Of Definition, Division and Disputation. 21.

SECOND BOOK.
Containing those things which concern the Nature of BODIES, in common.

LESSON I. OF the composition of bulk or Bignesse. Pag. 27.

II. Of the Nature of Quantity and Place. 32.

[Page] III. Of Time and locall Motion. 39.

IV. Of the four First Qualities. 47.

V. Of the Elements. 51.

VI. Of Mixtion and the Second Qualities, or those which most immediately follow Mixtion. 55.

VII. Of the manner of Mixtion, and the Passion of Mixt things. 59.

VIII. Of Impassibility, Destruction, and the Accidents of Mixt bodies. 65.

IX. Of the Motion of heavy and light bodies, and the Conditions of Acting. 68.

X. Of the Motions of Vndulation, Projection, Reflection and Refraction. 71.

XI. Of the Electricall and Magneticall Attractions of hot bodies. 76.

XII. Of the generation of Decomposit (or, compos'd-of-compounded) bodies, & Plants. 79.

XIII. Of the more universall parts of Plants. 82.

XIV. Of the Accidents of Plants. 85.

XV. Of the generation and augmentation of Animals. 88.

XVI. Of the Motion of the Heart, and some consequents of it. 92.

XVII. Of the progressive Motion of Animals. 94.

XVIII. Of the five senses of Animals. 98.

XIX. Of the Objects of the Senses. 101.

[Page] XX. Of Knowledge and Memory. 104.

XXI. Of Sleep and Dreams. 106.

XXII. Of Passions, and the expression of them. 109.

XXIII. Of the communicating Affections to others. 112.

XXIV. Of the seeming-Rationall Actions of Animals. 115.

THIRD BOOK.
Containing those things which concern the WORLD, and its greater Parts.

LESSON I. OF the limitation, Ʋnity, and composition of the World. Pag. 118.

II. Of the Mortality & kinds of those things that are in the world. 121.

III. Of the parts of the Planetary world, and specially those of the Earth. 125.

IV. Of the Sea and its Accidents. 129.

V. Of Fountains, Rivers and Lakes. 132.

VI. Of the Aire and those things that are done in it near the Earth. 137.

VII. Of Clouds, Rain, Snow, & Hail. 140.

VIII. Of fiery meteors appearing in the Aire. 147.

IX. Of truly fiery meteors hanging in the

[Page] Aire. 152.

X. Of the generation and nature of Winds. 156.

XI. Of Earth-quakes & their Effects. 163.

XII. Of the Meteors of the other parts of the world and especially of Comets. 165.

XIII. Of the Ebbing and Flowing of the Sea, and its Accidents. 168.

XIV. Of the Motion of the Earth, and the Causes of it. 174.

XV. Of the Oppositions against the Motion of the Earth: and of its Effects. 177.

XVI. Of the Motion of the Aire, with the Earth; and its Effects. 180.

XVII. Of the Causes of the Motion of the Moon and other Stars. 183.

XVIII. Of the Primum Mobile, the Duration and Quiddity of the World. 187.

FOURTH BOOK.
Containing that part of METAPHYSICK, which explicates the Essentiall Notions of BODIES.

LESSON I. OF the divisibility of Substance into Formall parts. Pag. 191.

II. Of the formall parts of Substance, in particular. [Page] 195.

III. Of the unity and distinction o [...] Bodies, in common. 199.

IV. Of the essentiall Ʋnity and Distinction of the Elements, and Mixt bodies. 203.

V. Of the Essence of Animals, & of the Soul. 208.

VI. Of the Chief Animal and the essentiall Distinction of Bodies. 214.

VII. Of the mutation of the Individuality, in the severall kinds of Bodies. 219.

VIII. Of the proper Action of the Chief Animal. 225.

IX. Of the Soul of the Chief Animal, or, of the MIND. 231.

X. Of the Proficiency & Deficiency of MAN, and of his Essence. 236.

FIFTH BOOK.
Containing that part of METAPHYSICK, which treats of SUBSTANCES ABSTRACTED from Matter, & of the Operation of Things.

LESSON I. OF the Soul's Separation from the Body. 243.

[...]I. Of the Science of a separated Soul, and its [Page] Vnity with the Soul. 249.

III. Of the Eminency of a separated Souls acts, above those it exercises in the Body. 255.

IV. Of the Felicity and Infelicity of separated Souls, and their Immutability. 259.

V. Of the nature of Existence, and its unity with the Thing. 264.

VI. Of the Existence, Simplicity and Eternity of GOD. 267.

VII. Of the perfection, Immutability and Science of GOD. 272.

VIII. Of the Divine Volition and Liberty. 277.

IX. Of the Divine Names; how they are improperly spoken of GOD. 283.

X. Of the Degrees of impropriety in the Divine Names. 288.

XI. Of the Existence, Nature, and Science of INTELLIGENCES. 293.

XII. Of the comparison of Intelligences to Souls and Bodies. 297.

XIII. Of the Distinction, Subordination and Number of Intelligences. 302.

XIV. Of the Action of GOD, Intelligences and Bodies, severally. 306.

XV. Of the cooperation of the Agents to the making of Substances, a Rationall Soul, and to all other Effects. 213.

XVI. Of the Government of GOD, and [Page] the Locality of Incorporeall Things. 318.

XVII. Of the Conservation of Creatures, and the Durations of things. 324.

XVIII. Of the Manner of Action, on the Subjects side. 330.

APPENDIX.

CHAP. I. A Philosophicall Discourse, concerning the Creation of Heaven and Earth. Pag. 341.

II. An Explication of GENESIS, concerning the same. 345.

III. A Philosophicall Discourse of the works of the two first Daies. 348.

IV. An Explication of Genesis, concerning the same. 351.

V. A Philosophicall Discourse of the works of the other four Daies. 354.

VI. An Explication of Genesi, sconcerning the same. 358.

VII. Some Animadversions about the Text of the first Chapter of Genesis. 364.

VIII. A naturall Discourse of the Creation of Man. 370.

IX. An Explication of Genesis, concerning the Creation of Man. 372.

X. An Explication of the same, concerning the Creation of Woman. 378.

XI. An Explication of Genesis, concerning Paradise. [Page] 383.

XII. The History of ADAM'S FALL, out of Genesis. 387

XIII. Of the Punishment of our first Parents: out of the same. 391.

XIV. Of the Evils derived to Posterity: out of the same. 399.

XV. Of the Propagation of Mankind: out of the same. 405.

XVI. Of the FLOUD: out of the same. 407.

XVII. Of the Cessation of the Deluge: out of the same. 413.

XVIII. Of the Covenant made with NOE, after the Floud: out of the same. 418.

XIX. Of the second Propagation of Mankind into severall Countries: out of the same. 423.

ERRATA.

Pag. 56. line. 26. touching. p. 60. l. 7. a constant. p. 126. l. 22. del. to. p. 144. l. 10. del.;. p. 181. l. 9. turned. p. 230. l. 20. by the. p. 241. l. 10. he is. p. 307. l. 5. immutable. p. 315. l. 9. immutable. p. 344. l. 26. of a. p. 405. l. last. by them.

[Page]

Peripateticall INSTITUTIONS. First Book.
Containing that part of LOGICK vvhich is necessary to SCIENCES.

LESSON I.
Of Propositions as they are the parts of a Syllogisme.

1. LOgick is the Art of Discoursing. Discourse is the Progresse of the Vnderstanding, out of one thought or judgement into another: but in a more speciall acceptation of the word, 'tis A Motion whereby the Understanding, out of a fit and orderly disposure of some judgements already possessed by it, deduces and leads it self into the knowledge of something it was ignorant of. And this Discourse, [Page] when 'tis close and exactly perfect, is, by a Greek term, called a Syllogism.

2. A Syllogism is compos'd of three Propositions: A Proposition is a speech whereby something is affirmed or denied concerning another: Whence, to its perfection, three parts are necessary; That which is affirm'd, That of which 'tis affirm'd, and That which expresses the affirmation, or the Term which connects them together.

3. These three are called Notions, or apprehensions, or things as they are in the Understanding, that is, according to what is common to them in themselves and in the Understanding: For, as the Statue of Caesar in something agrees with, in something differs from Caesar; so the Understanding actually possessed of any knowledge, has something wherein it resembles and agrees with the Object, other things wherein 'tis unlike and differs from it.

4. 'Tis already said that Propositions are, some Affirmative, some Negative. Now, sometimes it falls out, that an Affirmation is applied to one thing alone; sometimes to divers indifferently, as many agree in some one and the same Notion: This last is called an Vniversall Proposition; [Page] as when we say, Every man is a living Creature.

5. When the affirmation is applied to one thing alone, that is taken either determinately, as Socrates, Bucephalus, &c. and then the proposition is called Singular: or else indeterminately, as when we say, some Man, or Horse, &c. and then 'tis call'd a Particular proposition.

6. Again: since a proposition is either affirmative or negative; and the same thing cannot▪ at once, both be & not-be: if, at any time, one proposition affirms what another denies, such cannot be both true together; and therefore they are called Opposites or Incompossibles.

7. When the affirmation and negation falls upon the same thing in all respects, such propositions are called Contradictories; as, Socrates, here and now, runs; Socrates, here and now, runs not: But when the proposition is universall on both sides, they are called Contraries; as, All men are wise, None are wise.

8. Farther: as 'tis evident, the same thing cannot both be and not-be, at once; so 'tis as clear that every thing is, whilst it is: whence, if at any time a proposition pronounces the same thing concerning the [Page] same, 'tis called self-evident; as when we say, The whole is greater then a part of it self, for 'tis as much as to say, A part and more is more then a part.

9. Wherefore, if it be once known, that the same Notion is identify'd with two others; it will presently be evident, that those two are identify'd betwixt themselves: for otherwise, that Notion which is the same with them would not be the same with it self.

10. Two propositions, therefore, being put, which discover the identification of some one Notion with two others; a third proposition evidently emerges, whereby the identification of those two Notions betwixt themselves is declared: And these three compose a Syllogism.

LESSON II.
Of a Syllogism and its Conclusion.

1. A Proposition being a speech which pronounces one thing of another; and since, betwixt three, there can be but three Variations, viz. that one be pronounced of two, or two of one, [Page] or one of another, and that again of the third; there are onely three sorts or Figures of Syllogisms.

2. And, a Syllogism consisting of such speeches as connect one Term to another; since, this third way, the Term which joyns the rest falls into the midst between them, becoming under or Subject to one, and above or Predicate to the other; it truly and properly connects them: whence, that Figure whose Terms are thus order'd, is call'd the First; and 'tis the chief of all others, for all the Propositions and their Terms or Notions have a constant and determinate place and order in the Syllogism:

3. Whereas, in the other Figures it imports not whether of the two Antecedents be preferr'd; and, in the Conclusion, either of the Terms may, indifferently, be the Subject or Predicate, And, if we look more narrowly into it, the other two Figures will, indeed, appear but distorsions of the first; whereby the Notion, which, really, is the Middle one of the three, is made one of the Extremes, because all the three are identify'd. The first Figure, therefore, alone is according to Nature, and Necessary.

[Page] 4. And in this first, because the middle notion is once affirm'd or made the Predicate, and once the Subject, the Conclusion cannot be varied, except it be in respect of the Universality and Particularity, or Affirmation and Negation; whence the Conclusion becomes either an Universall or Particular Affirmative or Negative; as uses to be cyphred by these words, Barbara, Celarent, Darii, Ferio: in which the Vowells shew the Nature of the Proposition; A standing for an Universall Affirmative, E, an Universall Negative, I, a Particular Affirmative, O, a Particular Negative.

5. And, because these four Differences contein all manner of Propositions, in which Truth may be look'd for; there are onely four Moods or forms of Syllogisms profitable, and they sufficient to deduce it: the rest are all provided rather for curiosity and abundance then benefit.

6. There is another kind of Syllogism which some call Expository, consisting purely of Singulars: And because a singular proposition comprehends its Notion as well as an universall, 'tis a perfect Syllogism, though little used in Sciences, and therefore little treated of.

[Page] 7. Again; since those things which are Circumstantiall to any other thing either belong to it, or not; and if they belong to it, then either to it alone, or to many other things as well as it: the propositions, too, which are deduc'd out of these, must be some Proper, some Common, some wholly Accidentall and Unconcerning.

8. Amongst which, since Proper ones alwayes expresse something which has the Nature of a Cause or Effect, and an Effect cannot exist without an actuall Cause, nor an actuall Cause without an Effect; such propositions are fit to conclude upon any Subject, about which we are making inquiry, that It is, and cannot possibly but be; to do which we call framing a Science, and the Syllogism whereby we work thus, a Demonstration, and its Conclusion, Science: which, if we know why a thing is, that is, if the Demonstration be made from the Cause, both the knowledge and Demonstration are call'd à Priori, or from something going before; if otherwise, à Posteriori, or from something following.

9. Common and Vnconcerning Propositions are both of this Nature, Not to be applied to the Conclusion but by the Convoy [Page] and Mediation of some other closer relations; which yet, lying hid and being undiscernable, are onely capable of affording an apparent knowledge call'd Opinion.

10. From which rule, such propositions are to be excepted which assume for proof the knowledge of another person: for, since Knowledge is adequate to the Thing it self; 'tis, as it were, a proper Accident: and the knowledge of a thing attain'd by these propositions is call'd Faith. Which kind of knowledge may arrive to a certainty, if the Authority assum'd be out of all question: yet it is not Science, because not evident; since the thing appears but in the knowledge of another, and is undiscernable in it self, being it moves not the Understanding by it self and things naturally connected with it.

LESSON III.
Of the Predicaments in Common, and the three first in particular.

1. WE have said that Propositions are compos'd of Notions; and that a Notion is the thing, according [Page] to the being it has in the Vnderstanding: There are, therefore, so many kinds of Notions as there are severall common habitudes of any thing without or within the Understanding, whereby it may be referr'd to any other thing, that is, Predicated of a Subject.

2. Now any thing may be considered both according to what it has in it self or is in its own Nature, and according to other things which, by consideration, are drawn in and applied to it. And, as to its intrinsecalls, a thing is consider'd either absolutely and in its very self; and so 'tis call'd a Substance, and that which is pronounced of it a Substantiall Predicate: Or, as 'tis compar'd to all other things, in that respect wherein all things agree; and thus we ask, how big a thing is? and what we answer concerning it is call'd its Quantity: Thirdly, 'tis compar'd to those things which are of the same kind with it▪ or to its own particular nature; and so we ask, what manner of thing is it, that is, how perfect is it in its own nature? and what we answer is call'd its Quality: Lastly, 'tis compar'd to other particular things; and we ask, what 'tis in respect to another? and the answer is call'd Related or Relation. [Page] 'Tis plain that, under these four heads, are comprehended all things considerable in the Nature of any Subject, that is, which are in it self.

3. But, those things, which are circumstantiall to another and may be referr'd to it, are either apply'd with Motion or in Rest. If in Rest, the Predicate is neither constantly fixt to the Subject, nor the Subject to the Predicate; and then we ask, where a thing is? and the answer is call'd it's Place: Or else the Subject is fixt to the Predicate; as a Statue to its Basis, Liquour to a Vessell, one that sits to his Chair, &c. and, as before, we ask, where a thing is? whereto the Predicate we answer is call'd its Site or Situation: Or lastly, the Predicate is fixt to the Subject, and we ask, what it has? to which that we answer is call'd its Habit, as Garments, Arms, Instruments.

4. In Motion, if the Subject be mov'd, the Agent alwaies accompanies it; if it move, the Patient: and, in both cases, Time or the Motion of the Heavens goes along with them, from which no Motion can be exempt. Of this last, we ask, When was the Motion? and what we answer is call'd the Time of the Motion.

[Page] 5. When the Subject is mov'd, we ask, by what? and that we answer is said to Act, and the Subject to Suffer from it: when the Subject moves, we ask, what it moves? and that we answer is said to Suffer, and it self to Act. Thus, the reason is evident, why there are just ten Orders or Classes of Predicates, or Notions, or Beings in the Understanding, which are call'd Predicaments.

6. Substance is immediately distinguisht into Spirit and Body. The differences of Spirits are unknown. Bodies are either Living, that is, moving themselves, or Dead, that is, not moving, but mov'd by others. Living bodies are either Sensitive, or without Senses. Sensitive are either Intellectuall, viz. Man, or Brutall, Beasts. Man is either Socrates, or Plato, or Xenophon, &c. and these are no farther divisible; whence they are call'd Individualls; the rest Vniversalls, because they are predicated universally of all that are under them, that is, of every one.

7. Quantity is either Discrete, as Number; or Continu'd: and this, either Permanent, or Successive. Permanent is twofold; Extensive, whose perfection consists in three degrees including one another, Longitude, Latitude, Profundity; and Intensive, [Page] which is Weight. Successive Quantity is contein'd in Action, Passion, Speaking, and, generally, in Motion.

8. Concerning the proper nature of Body, because 'tis Finite, we ask, of what Figure 'tis? because 'tis Alterable by others, we ask, how 'tis, in respect to those Qualities according to which 'tis variable? as Heat, cold, colour, savour, &c. and this either constantly or in Motion; and we answer, accordingly, either by the Passible Quality or by the Passion: as, in a Feaver to be hot, or to blush for Bashfulnesse, is a Passion; but to be of a hot complexion, or ruddy countenance, is a Passible quality. Again, because a Body is ordered naturally to Act and to Suffer, we ask, what it can or cannot do? and that which is answer'd is call'd its Power or Impotency. Lastly, because every nature consists in a kind of Temperature, we ask, whether it be well or ill in respect to that; that is, whether it exactly or disproportionately possesses those things which are requisite to that; and this, either constantly or for a time? to which the answer is call'd, respectively, a Habit or Disposition.

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LESSON IV.
Of the rest of the Predicaments.

1. THose things which relate or are compar'd to another, are either compar'd for having some Notion common to both; or for their Acting or Suffering; or else, by a certain third way, which participates of both these: as, when a Picture is made like the Originall, that neither acts upon the Picture, nor is the Picture (being wholy of another kind) really like it, yet in a manner, 'tis both: and this respect is call'd of the thing measured to the Measure.

2. And, in this kind, there is one onely relation, and that on the side of the Measured: For a Relation being the Order of one thing to another, and since, between two things, one may be so ordered to the other, that the other may either have or not have a coordination to it; it comes to passe that those things which are in the same order (such as are those two first kinds) have a relation on both sides, but those that are of different orders, so that, [Page] notwithstanding, the one be ordered to the other, have a relation but on one side.

3. Besides, it often happens that the Understanding, through Custome or an imperfect way of knowing, expresses even things that have no ordination, by a certain relative resemblance; and then 'tis a mentall relation (by schoolmen call'd de dici) not a reall one: as also, when the Understanding has express'd the nature of any thing by a Negation, saying, a Man does not see, or has no hair; and then gives a positive being to this Notion, saying, a Man is blind or bald; according to the naturall Aptitude or Ineptitude of the Subject to the denyed Quality, 'tis call'd a Mentall Negation or Privation, respectively.

4. Wherefore, since, by these only ways, the Understanding can so vary any thing which it knowes, that a change may remain on the Objects side, and enter into the consideration of it, as belonging to the thing known; there can be three only kinds of Mentall Beings: For, the disputes of the Moderns concerning such entities, are but gay Trifles, and the contemplation of an erroneous definition.

[Page] 5. There is a kind of Relations, not unjustly, call'd Intellectuall, which follows a thing in the Vnderstanding in vertue of the reall quality of mere Vnderstanding; and these relations are of a Logicall Nature, as those Terms of Universall, Predicable, Subject, Antecedent, Consequent, & the like: And these Relations as much follow out of things, in that respect, as they are in the Understanding, as Likenesse follow's a thing in as much as 'tis white, or Equality because 'tis Quantitative: This, therefore, is call'd Intellectuall, because the Understanding is call'd Intellect, and in no other respect.

6. An Agent and a Patient clearly expresse two causes: which, yet, the Understanding (distinguishing, & finding parts differently respecting the effect) Logically and to serve its turn for Demonstration, divides into four.

7. And finding, in the Agent, that it can and that it does Act; the Understanding call's that whereby it does or can▪ act the Efficient cause, and that which moves or makes it to act, the End: Likewise, in the Patient, distinguishing what it is that suffers, and what it suffers; it call's that the Form, this the Matter: satisfying, thus, these [Page] Interrogations, From what? Why? By what or How? In what?

8. Plato adds an Idea or Exemplar: but, 'tis clear, that what wants an Exemplar cannot work without it; and consequently, there is not yet an Efficient cause. The species of these, and indeed of all the last six Predicaments, are little us'd, and therefore omitted.

LESSON V.
Of the five Predicables, and the signification of Words.

1. HEnce 'tis evident, there are two kinds or differences of Predications: For some Predicates of the same line or Predicament comprehend others, and are predicated of them as an Universall of a Particular: But Predicates of distinct lines are predicated of one another, as a thing superadded is predicated of that to which 'tis apply'd.

2. Predicates of the first kind are said [Page] to be predicated in quid or as the what; being such as answer to the question, what a thing is? And, if the predicate comprehends the full answer to that question, 'tis call'd a Species: but, if it only contains a part, so that other common considerations are comprehended under it, 'tis call'd a Genus; whose compart or partner, equall to the Species, answers not directly to the question What? but, with the addition of what kind or what in particular? supposing the answer to the question What already made by the Genus: and this is call'd a Difference.

3. The other kind of Predication is apply'd to some things necessarily connected with the Subject, which are call'd Properties: and are strictly such, if they appertain to it alone and alwaies; but, more at large, if they be deficient in these conditions. Sometimes 'tis apply'd to things, which may be both joyn'd to and separated from the Subject, without destroying it; and such are call'd Accidents. Thus are there five, commonly call'd, Predicables, or Porphyries five Terms.

4. But, since Notions are not communicated, but by the means of Words; and the same word sometimes is apply'd to severall [Page] Notions, sometimes to one only: as oft as the same word, in the same signification, that is, meaning the same Notion, is apply'd to more, 'tis said to signifie or be spoken Vnivocally.

5. A word which serves for severall Notions has this property either by chance, as when in one Language it signifies one thing, in others another; and then 'tis call'd purely Equivocall: or else, of set purpose, 'tis transferr'd from one Notion to another; and then 'tis Equivocall by design.

6. And, of this kind are those words which, by necessity or upon occasion, are transferr'd from one Notion to another, by reason of the Connection of the two Notions or things, or in consideration of their being Cause and Effect to one another: As, when healthfull, which signifies the quality of that temper which is just fit and convenient to a sensitive Creature, is transferr'd to signifie the quality of Vrine, because such a quality in it is the effect of a due temper in the Creature; or to Meat, because it preserves and produces that fit temper: Or else for Proportion sake: so the expression, to stand at the Helm, is transferr'd from a Ship to the Governour of a City; because, [Page] according to proportion, he does that in the City which a Pilot does in a Ship.

7. And, in such kind of words, the later signification includes the former: as, if you would explicate Urine as healthfull, you must say, 'tis such an Urine as is the sign of health in the sensitive Creature; if, the Governour of a City as standing at the Helm you must say, 'tis he that does that in a City which a Pilot does in a Ship. These words are said Analogically, or by Analogy, to signifie more things.

8. And thus the word Thing or Being is extended to those ten lines or Predicaments before explicated: For, since a Thing is that which has a being, the first Predicament alone justly challenges to it self the title of a Thing in this signification; that is, as Thing signifies An individual substance, which Aristotle call's the first Substance, Suppositum or Hypostasis, &, in rationall Substances, the Person; for these names signify the same.

9. Whereas the rest have no being, but are only Affections and certain determinations of what has a being: for example, Socrates or Callias to be Men, is to have a being & to be Substances; but Callias's being of the same Nature with Socrates, which we call a relation of identity, is not at all distinct from them, & [Page] consequently can have no being but in them, and that their being; yet, 'tis not according to this Notion that They have their being: This Identity, therefore, has a being, not because it, according to its own notion, gives a being, or is that whereby a thing has a being; but, because 'tis a Notion which explicates a thing, that, according to another Notion, has a being.

10. Hence it appears why a consequence holds negatively, from a Substance to all other things; but positively, from other things to a Substance: For, that which is not, can neither be the whole nor part of a Thing; and, if it be a part or a whole, if fitted to its Own Nature, if apply'd to others, certainly it is.

11. Tis as evident, if any never so little mutation be made in the Substance, the whole is chang'd: for, the Substance being that Notion whereby the thing is what it is; and every mutation in Substance changing that Notion; by every change made in the Substance, that is chang'd whereby this thing is, and consequently, this very thing.

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LESSON VI.
Of Definition, Division, and Disputation.

1. TO know whether a word be spoken univocally of more things, we must look whether it be predicated, still, according to the same Notion: now, a Notion is evidenc'd by a Definition. A Definition, therefore, is a speech compos'd of more Notions, which, taken together, make up that one Notion which before was not known.

2. Since, therefore, a Definition is the very Notion defin'd, resolved, as it were, into parts: 'tis clear, it can neither be more ample nor narrower then that which is defin'd.

3. Again; 'tis plain, that, to ask a Definition is nothing but asking what they mean, who understandingly use a word: wherefore, since some words expresse Notions that are common to all mankind (as, those of the ten Predicaments) 'tis evident [Page] that, in these and such like, we must observe, what the common-People, who make up mankind, mean by such a word.

4. But, of Proper Names and Terms appropriated to any Discipline, to ask the Definition is to ask, what the Masters of that Discipline mean by such a word? for these are, as it were, the Creatours and Causes of the words.

5. Again, 'tis evident, he that asks a Definition ought to collect the usuall sayings of the intelligent users of this word, that concern the thing as 'tis expressed by this word: which, if they be all gather'd, 'tis as demonstrable the Definition is made right, as any cause can be demonstrated from its effects; since, 'tis plain, those sayings depend from the notion of the word as from their cause, and consequently, the Notion of necessity appears in them.

6. But, if it happen to appear out of such sayings, that the word has more significations then one; amongst those that are made by design, it will easily be seen which is the principall, because that signification will be included in all the rest: as, the soundnesse of Meat or Urine include the soundnesse of an Animal.

[Page] 7. Again, since those things which are demonstrated concerning another are, either in the thing it self, or else are effects or causes of it; both which appear in the thing it self, and are conformable and proper to it: now, a Definition explicates the thing it self: 'tis clear, that whatsoever is demonstrable of the thing is rooted in the very Definition: Whence, a Definition is a certain principall Instrument of Science; and all the solutions of difficulties depend chiefly upon Definitions.

8. To make a Definition right, the Art of Distinguishing must be learnt. For, a Term being propos'd to be defin'd, out of what has been said, 'tis easie to find in what Predicament 'tis: which once known, all that remains is, by dividing the Genus, to descend by degrees, till you come to the particular in question; when, presently, you have the Definition. And if, as it sometimes happens, many severall Genus's have a share in the thing to be defin'd; this same course is to be pursu'd through them all.

9. But care must be taken, to divide by proper differences, that is, such as include in them the thing to be divided; seeing they are nothing else but more or lesse of [Page] the very Genericall Notion: for accidentall differences are infinite, and besides the intention of him that asks for a Definition.

10. Have a care, also, the Division be made by Contradiction, that is, into parts contradictory one to another; for so the Divider may be sure he comprehends the whole Genus. Lastly, these rules being observ'd, the fewer Members there are, that is, parts into which the Genus is divided, the more exactly you proceed. That Division, too, whereby Accidents are distinguisht from their Subject, is very usefull to Sciences: for, when it appears that a Concrete, that is, a thing which comprehends severall parts or Notions, is the Cause of any effect, by this Division you come to that Notion, according to which, precisely, 'tis the cause; which must necessarily be connected with the effect, simply speaking, and consequently, the effect may be demonstrated out of it à priori: For example, if it be known that Policletus made a Statue; separating the Accidents, 'twill appear that he made it, not as White, nor as Musicall, nor as Policletus, but as one skill'd in such an Art; and hence you'l collect, that All skilfull in that Art can make a Statue.

[Page] 11. Out of a Division and Definition made aright, there arise two sorts or Species of self-evident propositions: For, as oft as one of the Terms is a direct part of the definition of another Term, the Proposition is clear; as, if a Man be a Reasonable Creature, he is a Creature: Again, in a Division truly made, 'tis plain, the parts may divisively be pronounc'd of the whole; as, when we say, a Number is either Even or Odd. Whoever aspires to Sciences must be assiduous in these; but, above all, in the practice of Defining; for, all the connection of Notions is found in Definitions, and the connection of Terms is that which makes Science.

12. These, too, chiefly detect the snares of Equivocall terms, which are the very Bane of Science; especially those which are caus'd by Analogy. Now, Equivocation is display'd, by looking into words what way soever connected; as, into Causes, effects, contraries, superiours, inferiours, &c. wherein, if once any thing be found, which agrees to one and not to the other, the Equivocation is discover'd: As, if a Voice and a Saw be both said to be sharp, but the Contrary to the Voice is flat, to the Saw, blunt; 'tis plain that sharp is [Page] not predicated of them both in the same signification, and therefore 'tis equivocall.

13. As for our modern Disputes, 'tis to be observ'd, that the Defendant either puts a false Conclusion; or, if it be true, he holds another incoherent with it; or, at least, if there be no opposition among his Tenets, yet he is ignorant of the Antecedents and Consequents to his Thesis; or, lastly, he is perfect only at this Thesis. In the two first cases, he may be convinc'd, if the Disputant behave himself well: in the third, too, if the Disputant can bring him about to yield to some falsity in those things he is ignorant of, he may easily convince him.

14. In the fourth case, one must dispute Critically, that is, either something afarre off must be sought for, and forreign to the Question, which the Defendant is not oblig'd to be skilfull in; and clapping Authority on the back on't, to fright him into the admission of a falsity; which is the trick of most of those that dispute out of Medium's from Theology and the Divine Omnipotence: or else, one must argue out of common and logicall Notions, in which both the terms are ambiguous, and Equivocation easily hides it self.

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Peripateticall INSTITUTIONS. Second Book.
Containing those things vvhich concern the nature of BODIES in common.

LESSON I.
Of the Composition of Bulk or Bignesse.

EVclide having demonstrated,El. 6. that 'tis possible to divide any undivided line,Pr. 10. into full as many parts, as any other whatever has been divided, that is, into parts beyond any number assignable, that is, into infinite: there's no farther doubt but a Body or Magnitude is divisible without end.

2. Whence it follows, that one indivisible in quantity, added to another, makes it not bigger: For, if it did, a finite number [Page] of indivisibles would constitute quantity; and consequently, a Body would not be divisible without end.

3. Again: since any Multitude encreases by the addition of one to those already suppos'd, ev'n though 'twere infinite: and yet the addition of one indivisible, to whatever presuppos'd number, makes it not greater: 'tis clear, that neither an infinite multiplication of indivisibles is sufficient to make quantity; and consequently, that a Body or bignesse is not compos'd of infinite Indivisibles.

4. Moreover, since 'tis manifest that, if any two parts actually exist in a Body or Magnitude, even all the parts into which a Body is divisible do actually preexist in it, too; and since 'tis plain, if a Magnitude were divided into all it were divisible into, the remains would be purely infinite Indivisibles: 'tis perfectly manifest that no two parts do actually exist in a Body or Magnitude.

5. 'Tis urg'd against the divisibility of a Body in infinitum, that there would be infinite parts in it; and since an infinite can never be measur'd, no part of a body can be pass'd over in a finite time; and consequently, there can be no Motion▪ Aristotle [Page] answers, that an actuall infinite can never, indeed, be pass'd over, but in an infinite time, too: but that the parts of a Magnitude are only, potentially, infinite; and, therefore, nothing hinders but they may be pass'd over in a finite time. Galilaeus replies, As any two halfs do not, therefore, require lesse time to pass them over, because they are not separated: so neither can infinite parts (supposing them in a Magnitude) be pass'd over in lesse time, because they are but possible, then if they were actually or in effect.

6. 'Tis answer'd, that if, in the potentiality of a Magnitude, there were, really, infinite parts, whereof every one, limited in themselves and distinct from one another, had a determinate bignesse; they would indeed require an infinite time to be pass'd over: But there's no such matter: for, the parts of a Magnitude have so undetermin'd a quantity, that they may be bigger or less, according to the proportion to the whole wherein they are taken; whence, since, the more are put, the lesse they are, it comes to passe that they never exceed a certain determinate summe, which is the Magnitude of the whole, how high soever they encrease in Number.

7. Again: 'tis objected against this assertion [Page] of no parts being actually in a Magnitude: First, that 'tis against the credit of our Senses, for, we see divers and severall parts of a Table or Stick; our hands, too, and fingers are many.

8. 'Tis answer'd, by denying that we see many parts of a Table or Stick: for, if we saw they were severall, our sight could distinguish one from another, and we could just tell where one ends and another begins: since, therefore, the nearest immediate parts are separated, only by an Indivisible; and an Indivisible cannot be discerned by sense; 'tis evident, it belongs not to the Senses to distinguish one part from another.

9. And, whereas 'tis added, that we see two Hands and many Fingers of the same Man's: 'tis true, indeed; but a Hand or a Finger signifies not a part actually, but in potentia or possibility: For, if a Hand or Finger were cut off from the rest of the Body, it were, now, no longer a Hand or Finger, since it would be no more an Instrument of taking any thing, which is of the very definition of a Hand or Finger.

10. 'Tis objected, thirdly, those are actually distinct, of which Contradictories can be verifi'd: But, 'tis truly pronounced of [Page] divers parts of a Magnitude, that this is seen, toucht, hot, cut, &c. whilst the contradictories to these are as truly said of another part; nay, 'tis really true, that this part is not that, as the Hand is not the Foot, an Eye is not an Ear: Wherefore, these parts must needs be actually distinct.

11. 'Tis answer'd, that Contradiction is only in respect of our Understanding; wherefore, the Contradictories have only a notionall repugnance in the Subject, as it is in our Vnderstanding. Since then, the parts have a distinct being in our Understanding; from thence 'tis that they are capable to sustain Contradictories: Which to make plain, instead of this Proposition, This part is seen, toucht, warm, &c. let us say, The thing, according to this part, is seen, toucht, warm, &c. and not according to that; is it not clear the same thing sustains Contradictories as 'tis diversly apprehended by the Understanding, because the Understanding by this reflection, according, makes the same thing divers Subjects.

12. The like 'tis when we say, a hand is not a foot: for it signifies that a Man as having the faculty of taking any thing, is not a Man as having the faculty of walking. And the same rule, we see, holds in [Page] abstracted Notions; for, though we say, an Animall is rationall, yet we say, Animality is not Rationality.

LESSON II.
Of the Nature of Quantity and Place.

1. PArts, then, not being actually in a Magnitude, it follows, that Extension or Divisibility is not accidentall to it, but the very nature of Quantity: Whence, we see, as oft as one asks, how much there is of such a thing; for example, a way, a piece of Cloath, Liquour, &c. we answer, so many furlongs, ells, ounces, &c. that is, by the parts into which they are divisible. 'Tis plain, therefore, that the very nature of Quantity is Divisibility.

2. Hence, again, 'tis clear, that 'tis not to be enquired how the parts of a Magnitude come to be united: for, since more cannot be made of any thing, but what first was not more, or, one; 'tis evident, that what is divisible is, in that very respect, one; and out of the very nature of Quantity its parts derive an unity.

[Page] 3. Nor is it lesse manifest, that nothing, besides Quantity, is extended and divisible: for, 'tis not intelligible, that any thing can be divided, and yet have no Divisibility: Wherefore, that they call Imaginary space is nothing at all, nor has it any distinguishable parts; much lesse can it be a means of distinguishing other things, by its own distinction.

4. 'Tis objected, Before the Creation of the World, there was a certain possibility of a World; and a greater of the whole world then of any part; nay, even now, without or about this world, 'tis possible other Bodies should be created, bigger then this world: Yet, such a Body cannot be created, but some parts of it must be more distant from this, then others: Therefore, a greater and lesse distance from the world is imaginable; and consequently, an Imaginary Space.

5. 'Tis answer'd, There is, indeed, a possibility of such a world: but, 'tis either in the Power of God, and so is nothing else but his very Essence; or, in the Idea of some understanding Creature (and is only the mere conformity of the Predicate with the Subject, or of one part with another) which saies, there is a world, or such [Page]things agree well together. But, without the world there is no distance, now; though there would be, were any new Body created: for, since Distance signifies extension and parts; and a Body is compos'd of parts; 'tis plain, that, a Body being created, Distance too, is created: But, to imagine Distance abstracted from a Body is manifestly against this first principle of Reason, which denies that the same can be a Thing and no-Thing.

6. Again, 'tis evident, there's no such thing as a kind of infinite Magnitude or Vastness, wherein all Bodies are: for bodies would not be counter-extended with such a Magnitude; & consequently, since Bodies are Quantitative things, that would not be such.

7. Out of what has been said, 'tis plain, there is no empty place in the world; that is, there is no hollow body, wherein there is not another Body: for, it being determin'd, that Distance is a Body; 'tis manifest that, taking away Body, all Distance is taken away: Since, therefore, 'tis plain, that distant things are joyn'd by taking away the distance; if, out of a hollow body, that be taken away which keeps the sides asunder, the sides remain conjoin'd, & the Body is no longer hollow.

[Page] 8. Whence it appears, the wonder of those that ask, If all the Air should be taken out of a vast hollow sphear, and nothing else should be done, what would follow? is irrationall; and signifies just as if they should say, If the sides of the sphear were joyn'd, & nothing else done, would they be joyn'd?

9. If, then, all quantitative things are joyn'd together, they are Continu'd: For, things continu'd are no otherwise, so, but, in vertue of the Quantity, which is in either part: since, therefore, in these, there's Quantity on either side; whatever quantitative things are conjoin'd must be continu'd.

10. Out of what has been said, the Notion of Place is collected: For, it appears to us, that is, to Mankind, that Place is an immovable Vessell, which some bodies go out of and others enter into: moreover, that the Earth is absolutely immovable, and that Heaven and the Starres observe a constancy in their Motion, & so give a ground, on which the notion of immobility may be founded; whence, a Vessell, by respects to a determinate part of the Earth & of the motion of the Heavens, will gain an apprehension of immobility. To say, therefore, a Body is in such a place, is as much as to say, 'Tis in a Body which has such a situation [Page] to the Earth and to the Heavens; for example, 'tis at such a distance from such a Mountain, towards the beginning of Aries, or the Sun-rising.

11. And, that this is true, appears out of those explications of Place, whereby, usually, answer is made to the Question, Where is such a thing? For, we answer by such things as, in our apprehensions, are immoveable: in the last resolution, by the parts of the Heavens; next, by Mountains, Rivers, Cities, Houses, Trees, &c. and more immediately by Walls and things fastned to Walls, or rather, by immoveable things within the House, as Beds, Cupboards, &c. 'Tis plain, therefore, that Place is the Body which next encloses the thing within it; as 'tis conceiv'd to be in a certain site to the rest of the world, or its fixt parts.

12. You'l object, there's nothing constant in the world, able to make a Place, besides Imaginary Space. 'Tis answer'd, Place is a word, signifying according to the will of the first imposers, and therefore signifies a thing as 'tis in our mind, or under Notion; wherefore, you must not require something really immoveable, but which may appear such: Now, even Motion [Page] it self, if it be constantly the same, appears to have a kind of immobility; and so, 'tis sufficient that the Sun constantly rises in one part and sets in another, to determine Place, without any need of Imaginary Space.

13. You'l object again, This Definition does not agree with all things that are in Place: for it neither agrees with Angels or separated souls, which yet, 'tis clear, are in a Place; nor with the World it self; nor with Qualities▪ or parts of Substance, which are in a Place, too. We answer, 'tis clear indeed that spirituall substances are in a Place, but 'tis not clear what signifies, to be in a Place, when we speak of them: but certain 'tis, that it signifies not, to be in a Place after the manner of Bodies, which alone is, properly, to be in a Place; since Mankind, to whom belongs the imposing the name of Place, never saw spirituall substances. 'Tis as certain that, either the world is not in a Place, or, if it be, (as some endeavour to explicate,) 'tis by its parts; that is, because every part is in a Place, it may, in a kind of forc'd sense, be said to be in a Place. But, Forms and Qualities to be in a Place, signifies they are the Forms and Qualities of Bodies which are in a Place: [Page] Whence, all these are said to be in a Place analogically, and not in their primary signification.

14. Nor imports it, that the Vulgar think that to have no being, which is nowhere: for the Vulgar are not the composer of Sciences, as they are the imposer of Names: wherefore, we receive the signification of Names from them, but not the truth of Propositions.

15. Having determin'd then, that Place is something extrinsecall to the thing in it; and seeing that an extrinsecall change cannot be made without some intrinsecall one, too, (since the extrinsecall denomination is not another thing, different from the intrinsecall quality of the things which concurre to the denomination) in every change of Place, some intrinsecall Mutation must of necessity intervene: But, the change of Place is, immediately, a change of the application of the sides of the thing moved, from the sides of the Place whence it parts, to the sides of the Place whether it passes: wherefore, the Place and the Thing in it being, really, the same quantitative thing, we must say that Locall Motion materially, is Division, that is, the first and, principall act of Quantity [Page] or Divisibilty; and, formally, the denomination of a new site of the Universe, as has been declared.

16. It follows, out of what has been said, that, since 'tis of the very Nature of Quantity, to have its parts extended and one out of or beyond another, 'tis impossible two Bodies should be in the same Place; for so, one, in respect to the other, should not have the Nature of Quantity: As also, if the same Body were situated in two Places; since 'twould make a double distance, it would have the force and effect of two Quantities, that is, be double it self.

17. The objections against these Positions are Theologicall, & not hard in Theology; & therefore, are to be referr'd thither.

LESSON III.
Of Time and Locall Motion.

1. NOw, among Locall-Motions, 'tis evident, the Motion of the Heavens, especially of the Sun and Moon, is most notorious and common to Mankind; as also, (at least, to our apprehensions) most constant & equall: Wherefore, tis the fittest & best qualifi'd for the measuring of other Motions: & so, experience teaches, [Page] that 'tis apply'd to this use; for the Howers, Days, Years, &c. are certain parts of the Motion of the Sun.

2. This motion therefore, as 'tis made use of for the measuring other motions, we call Time: and, comparing motion to Time, we say, one is swifter or slower then another.

3. You'l object, this is an ill Definition of Time: for, before the World was created, there was Time; and yet, no Motion of the Heavens. If the Sun, too, should stand still, Time would not, therefore, cease to passe on: Wherefore, Time is not the Motion of the Heavens. 'Tis answer'd, Before the creation of the World, there was no time; however we may imagine Time before the World, as we do Place out of the World: but these Opinions are ill grounded in the Fancy. And, if the Sun should stand still, 'tis plain, there would be no Daies and Years, &c. that is, if it should stand still for ever; for, if it stood but for a little while, it would only make the Day longer. But, 'tis to be observ'd, that the Motion of the Heavens is not Time, as it is in it self, but as it is the Object of our apprehensions; whereby we form a certain quantity of Motion, which [Page] we may apply to all other Motions, and even to the Motion of the Sun it self.

4. To the question, therefore, Whether time would passe on were the Sun or Heavens immoveable? 'tis answer'd that, abstracting from our apprehensions, it would not: but, because there would still remain in us a power of measuring other Motions, by the Motion of the Heavens which we formerly apprehended; we should measure Motions by Time passing on in its Essence, not in Existence, that is, by the Notion and Nature, not the actuall Presence of Time. Time, therefore, would not, really, passe on; yet we should make use of it as if it did.

5. You'l object again, The Motion of the Heavens is divisible, as the space wherein they are mov'd: But Time consists of Indivisibles; for, It has no true being but the present, which is alwaies indivisible. 'Tis answer'd, Time is divisible without end, just as Motion is: But, what is said, that nothing of Time is present but an instant, is false; for, we say, the present Day, Year, Age, &c. for, Time being Motion, as in our apprehensions, the Understanding can make as much of it present as it pleases, by taking a whole part after [Page] the manner of one Entity.

6. But an indivisible part of Time is never present; for, there is no such thing: the working, only, of our Understanding makes Instants, not as a part of Time, but as the end of one part and the beginning of another: Whence, we never conceit an instant In Time or Motion, but when we mean there is no more Time or Motion, An Instant, therefore, is a kind of not-being of Time: Wherefore, what's said, that nothing of Time is present but an Instant, is to be understood, that Nothing of Time is present together and at once, because its nature is Successive; nor can it have any existence, as a kind of Thing or Being, but as the variation of a divisible Thing as 'tis divisible.

7. Again; it being apparent, that some things are more easie, others harder to be divided, or (which is the same) some are more, others lesse divisible: if that which causes the Motion forces a lesse against a more divisible, the more divisible must of necessity be cut asunder, and admit in the lesse divisible between its parts: wherefore, a Division will be made, and consequently, if the other requisites concurre, a Locall Motion; for, the lesse divisible will change [Page] its place. If, therefore, the same lesse divisible be impell'd, with the same force, against any thing more divisible then the former; 'twill separate it in lesse time, and consequently, 'twill be mov'd faster.

8. Now, the lesse divisible is call'd, Dense; the more, Rare: and, because Divisibility is the very nature of Quantity, the rare will have more, the dense lesse of Quantity: and these are the first differences that can be expected in a Quantum or Magnitude, they being made by more and lesse of Quantity in a quantitative Thing.

9. But, because, out of what has been said, it appears that the rare, in respect of the dense, is that which is divisible, and contrarily, the dense is the divider: by how much greater the proportion of density is in the divider, to the rarity of what is divided; by so much the division must needs be quicker, and the Motion swifter.

10. In like manner it is, too, for matter of the Figure or shape: for, one figure being apter to divide then another, (since, we see Artificers chuse sharp figures to cut with) by how much the figure is more apt (supposing all other circumstances proportionable) so much swifter the Motion will be.

[Page] 11. Lastly; because, in dense things of the same figure, the comparison of density to the figure is greater in great things, (because, in Bodies, the Solid is multiply'd in a triple proportion,Euclid. El. 6. Pr. 19. El. 12. Pr. 18. but the Superficies only in a double; that is, of two similary Globes, &c. if their Diameters be as 2 to 3, their Solids will be as 8 to 27, but their Superficies only as 4 to 9.) it comes to passe that, (other circumstances being suppos'd equall) of bodies that are alike, the greater move swifter then the lesse. It appears, therefore, that, in respect to the same Medium, there are three conditions in a Moveable, which make the Motion swifter, viz. bignesse, density and figure.

12. It follows, out of what has been said, that there can be no Motion in an instant, by an Agent of a finite power: for, the space wherein 'tis made being divisible without end; if the motion were in an instant, the Agent could move the movable through a space assign'd, while the power which moves the Sun could not move that never so little a space: since, therefore, space may diminish without end, 'tis necessary the power be encreas'd [Page] without end, and consequently, be infinite.

13. Again; since a greater power is requir'd to move the same movable more swiftly through the same Medium; a movable cannot be transferr'd from a lesse to a greater degree of velocity, in an instant, by a finite Agent: For, since some power is requisite to give it a greater velocity, even in the same time; and the proportion of time to an instant is infinite; the power to give it such a velocity, in an instant, must be infinite.

14. Whence, 'tis evident, that every Movable which is rais'd from rest to motion, passes through infinite degrees of slownesse, greater then that degree whereto we suppose it to be arrived. For, since every assign'd degree is divisible into infinite ones which are between it and rest, nor can a finite Agent raise the Movable from any of those to an assign'd degree, in an instant; much lesse can it transferre it from rest to an assign'd degree in an instant. Consequentially to these positions, Every movable that is reduc'd from rest to motion, at the beginning, increases in velocity: but, since to every finite Agent, there corresponds a certain determinate [Page] degree of Effect, beyond which it has no power; when it arrives once to that degree of velocity, it will stand at it, and the Motion will encrease no farther.

15. But if, to the difficulty of the Medium, there be added an Agent moving a contrary way; according to that Agents power the velocity of the former movable will be diminisht, or the movable be even forc'd to rest, or to an opposite Motion. And thus it appears how Motions begin and end.

16. Lastly, it may be concluded, speculatively speaking, that any weight whatever may be mov'd an assign'd space, by never so little a power: For, since the power must, of necessity, be multiply'd to encrease the velocity; as much as it fails in velocity, so much may be abated in the power. Assigning therefore a Bulk to be mov'd and a power to move it; suppose another power which may be able, in a certain time, to move this bulk such a determin'd space; and, by how much this later power is greater then the first assign'd, somuch encrease the time in which the movable should be mov'd through the propos'd space; and because, now, the effect is so much lesse, it will [Page] not exceed the power assigned.

17. I said, this is speculatively true: because, when one should go about to reduce it to practice, an extremely little power could not be preserv'd so long time, as were necessary to the effect.

LESSON IV.
Of the four First Qualities.

1. OUt of what has been said, it being concluded that Rare and Dense are the first Differences, and that they by consequence, like Quantity, are varied with endlesse Differences; seeing, too, that there is a perpetuall Tumult as it were, in the world, of heavy things descending towards the Centre of the Earth: there must, of necessity, be some degree of rare Bodies so easily divisible, that it needs nothing, but this very impulse, to separate their parts, & carry them, the nearest way to the Centre.

2. Such bodies, therefore, will spread themselves without any limits about the Earth, unlesse they be hindred; whence, they'l have no proper figure of their own: but when they encounter with a denser body, upon which the impulse [Page] that divides them, has not the like power; there they'l stop their division, and receive a figure from that.

3. They will, therefore, be easily terminable by others bounds, hardly by their own: But, on the contrary, Bodies, upon which the motion of gravity has not such force, will be easily terminable by their own bounds, hardly by others. Now, this, Nature and Aristotle have assign'd for the notion of Drynesse, that, of Moysture; wherefore, these will be dry bodies, those moist.

4. It appears, therefore, both that all bodies, that have a Consistency, are dry; and that, if there be any so rare, that, by all others, it will be repell'd from the Centre, (that is, rare in the highest degree) that, too, is dry; for, its parts take not easily their ply, that is, are not spread by the falling of heavy bodies, but are carried by their own Motion: Yet, that which is dense in the highest degree will be more dry; because the rarest receiv's a figure partly from those without it, partly from it self.

5. But, among moist bodies, that which is rarer is moister; as more yielding to the gravity which divides it.

[Page] 6. You'l object, that Dust and Fire accommodate themselves to the bounds of other bodies; and, therefore, must be moist. 'Tis answer'd, Dust is not one body, but many: besides, it does not so accommodate it self; since, if it lye free, a heap of Dust is full of Aire, by which it is rendred so easily plyable. Fire, too, has a proper motion, and is reflected, when forc'd by a hard body; nor does it wholy accommodate it self, as appears in light and the flames of Furnaces.

7. Again; since, by the same motion of heavy bodies, rare ones must necessarily be press'd against dense, and dense against rare: if a very rare body be so forc'd against a dense, that it be constrain'd to make its way; since, 'tis divisible into minutest parts, and 'tis easier to make a narrow then a wide way; 'tis plain, the rare body will bore it self a world of little passages and paths, and consequently, will dissect the dense, which opposes it, into an infinity of little parts.

8. Whence, it follows, that, if there were many heterogene bodies, (that is, of a different nature) shut up in the dense body; all, now being set at liberty, by such dissection, will, by their proper motions, [Page] gather themselves to their own Parties, and be separated, every one, from those of another kind.

9. But if a dense body compresse a rare one, 'twill let nothing scape out of it; but, whatever if finds, it condenses and crowds into a narrower room.

10. Dense bodies, therefore, have this nature, to gather together heterogene bodies; that is, they are cold: and Rare bodies, to gather together homogene (or bodies of the same kind,) but to disperse heterogene; that is, they are hot. For, Nature and Aristotle have given us these notions of hot and cold.

11. And among rare bodies, 'tis apparent, the rarest will be the best dividers, that is, the hotest: but, among dense bodies, those will be the coldest, which most streightly besiege the rare bodies, and those are such as are most plyant to their parts; whence, they which are, in some measure, moist, too, will be the coldest.

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LESSON V.
Of the Elements.

1. WE have deduc'd, therefore, out of the most simple notion of Quantity, dissected by the only differences of more and lesse, the Rarest body, hot, in the highest degree, and dry, but not in the highest degree; the Densest, dry, in the highest degree, and cold, but not in the highest degree; a Heavy or lesse rare body, moist, in the highest degree, but not so hot; lastly, a Moderately dense body, cold, in the highest degree, but temperately moist.

2. These same bodies, in as much as Motion proceeds from them to others, are active; but, in as much as they sustain the action of others, they are passive; chang'd, thus, in Name, not Nature.

3. This property also, of an Element, they have, that they cannot be compounded of other things, and all things else are compounded of them: they being establisht out of the first Differences which, of necessity, are found in others. There are, therefore, four ELEMENTS.

[Page] 4. You'l object; Since Rare and Dense vary the Quantity, by the very nature of Quantity there will be infinite degrees; and, thence the number of the Elements will neither be four nor, indeed, finite. 'Tis answer'd; Men do not determine the kinds of things, according to the fruitfulnesse of Nature; but, by grosse and sensible differences, according to the slownesse of our Apprehension.

5. Thus, therefore, a Rare body, which makes it self and other things be seen, we call Fire: One that has not this vertue, and yet hinders not other things from making themselves seen, we call Aire: A Dense body, which absolutely excludes light, we term Earth: One that partly admits it and partly repells it, we term Water.

6. Not, that wise men esteem these very bodies to be truly Elements, which we are conversant with round about us: But that, these mixt bodies obtain that name, out of the predominancy of some Element in them, which they would deserve, if, drein'd from all dregs, they were entirely refin'd into the nature of the Predominant.

7. The Elements, therefore, are Bodies [Page] distinguisht, purely, by the differences of rare and dense: and they are collected into four kinds or heads, under the terms we have given them.

8. Moreover, 'tis evident, that no bounds or figures do, properly, belong to the Elements, out of their own principles, that is, precisely by their own nature: for, since they are nothing but quantitative bodies, affected with such a rarity or density; the nature of Quantity still remains, which is every where divisible and terminable, and consequently, figurable as one pleases.

9. But, whether there be not some greatest possible bulk in every one of the Elements, out of the very nature of density, depends upon Metaphysicall principles. Neverthelesse, out of their common operation, a Sphericall figure is most agreeable to Earth and Fire. To Fire, because its nature being to diffuse it self, with the greatest celerity, out of a little matter into a great breadth, it must of necessity spread it self on all sides, that is, into a Sphear.

10. To Earth, as being the Basis & foundation, about which moist bodies diffuse themselves; and, by so doing, mold it into a Globe.

[Page] 11. But, that Fire flames up like a Pyramid, proceeds from the resistance of the Aire incompassing it, which 'tis forc'd to penetrate with a sharp point.

12. Again; since the Elements are oppos'd to one another, only by the differences of rare and dense: 'tis evident, their transmutation into one another is nothing else but rarefaction and condensation.

13. 'Tis plain, too, that dense things, being forc'd against rare, do compresse them, and, if there be no way to escape, do necessarily condense them: which condensation, if it be enough both in time and degree, will, of necessity, change that which is condens'd, into that Element to which such a density is proper.

14. But, a rare body compress'd, if it get out, diffuses it self a main out of those straights: whence, if any dense body, that is rarifiable, stick to it, it carries it away with it, and rarifies it: 'Tis plain, therefore, that 'twill turn it into the nature of the rarer Element; if the other circumstances concurre which are necessary to Action.

15. Out of all which, we may collect, that one Element cannot be chang'd into another, without being transferr'd [Page] through all the intermediate degrees: as if you should endeavour to rarifie Earth into Fire; first you must raise it into Water, then into Aire, and at length into Fire.

16.Less. 3. For, as we have demonstrated, above,Numb. 13. concerning velocity, that a Movable cannot be rais'd out of one into another determinate degree, but in time: so, with the same labour, the same may be made evident, concerning density; since, the nature of Quantity is equall and constant in both; and Velocity is nothing but A certain density of Motion.

LESSON VI.
Of Mixtion, and the second Qualities, or those vvhich most immediately follovv Mixtion.

1. SInce that part of the world, which is expos'd to our knowledge, is finite; and any never-so-little bulk infinitely repeated, exceeds the greatest possible: it follows, that the singular bodies of this part are finite, and [Page] some actually the least: nay, that, according to the order of the World, bodies cannot be divided beyond a certain term.

2. There will be, therefore, in each of the Elements certain minutest parts, which are, either not at all, or very seldome, farther divisible. When, therefore, the Elements are forc'd one against another, the sides of the rare ones must, of necessity, become united with the sides of the dense: but, when they come to be divided again, 'tis impossible they should not leave some of those minutest parts sticking to the dense bodies.

3. For, since, in the same Quantity, the dense part is lesse divisible then the rare; that, too, which is compounded of rare and dense, in the same bulk, is lesse divisible then the rare part of the same quantity: It must needs be, therefore, that the rare Elements must stick, by their minutest parts, to the dense which they have once touch't.

4. Hence, 'tis evident, that the minutest parts being rub'd off on every side, by the ouching together of divers Elements, mixt bodies must necessarily be made. For, if two dense parts touch one minutest rare; since the minutest is indivisible, [Page] there naturally emerges a Compound of the three, as hardly divisible as are the dense ones themselves.

5. Whence, we have the first Distinction of bodies: For, since the Elements are four, and may be joyn'd together by bigger or lesse parts; as oft as great parts of one Element redound, the body is call'd by the name of that Element.

6. Thus have we severall kinds of Earth: and, in this sense, all consistent things have the notion of Earth; all visible fluid things are call'd Waters; and there are many kinds of Airs and Fires.

7. But, when a body, that has the consistency of one Element, is full of minute parts of another; the substance of one Element gets the denomination of the other's quality: Thence proceed the degrees of temperaments, hot, cold, &c. and in one and the same kind, too, reduplicated differences of the Elements; viz. of Earths, some are Earthy, some Watry, some Aeriall, some Fiery; and so in the rest, ev'n to the lowest species.

8. It appears, again, wherein consist those qualities, which distinguish bodies, as to their consistency. First, the notion of liquid & consistent plainly follows the [Page] nature of rare and dense: and soft is a middle between liquid and hard; but hard, being that which resists division, clearly refers to density.

9. But grosse and Massive appertain to the quantity of parts: for grosse is not, so, divided into minutest parts, as to be able, by its subtilty, to enter into the least pores or crannies; and Massive has no pores or passages in its body, but speaks parts constipated and thrust close together: Both of them plainly expresse a certain notion of Density.

10. As for Fat, and tough, and viscous or slimy, they have this common to them all, To stick where they touch: but fat, in lesser parts; viscous, in greater; tough, properly, holds its own parts together, and cleaves not so much to others.

11. They, therefore, consist of moist and dense well mixt: from moist they derive the facility to unite; from dense, the difficulty to be separated.

[Page]

LESSON VII.
Of the manner of Mixtion, and the Passion of mixt things.

1. THese things being suppos'd; because there are two Active qualities, heat and cold, which are most eminent in Fire and Water: let there, first, be a mixt body of Earth, Water, and Aire, upon which Fire be suppos'd to act: and, since there is no mixt thing so compacted, but, at least, some parts of Fire may be forc'd and fly away through it; and they, in their passage, are joyn'd to the parts of Aire or Water: 'tis apparent that the Fire will carry away some of them with it; whence the Compound will become more compacted and solid.

2. Again; because the parts of Fire are extremely subtile; whereever they find a resistance in the solid parts, weaker then their power of dividing, that way they'l escape, and that, not alone, but laden with watry or airy parts: so that they will leave the Water and Aire to be united with Earth and between themselves, by the smallest parts that are possible.

[Page] 3. Whence, two things come to passe: One, that the Whole becomes a like and equall throughout, all the Elements being mixt by most minute particles in every part: The other, that the Elements become lesse divisible from one another in this whole; which is, to be rendred constant and permanent body.

4. Let therebe, therefore, in another body, the natures of Fire, Aire and Earth blended together; to which let Water be added from without: and, first, you'l see all the sallies block'd up, and the Pores coagulated by vertue of the cold, so that the Aire or Fire cannot easily steal out.

5. See, again, the Water with all its weight and force, pressing the nearest parts of the Compound on every side: whence, they are forc'd to compresse and streighten themselves, and shrink into a lesse and lesse place, to make room for the water; and this, not in the surface alone, but even in the minutest parts, as far as the water can pierce; which so much the farther it can, as its parts are rendred more subtile, by the re-active power of the Aire and Fire.

6. Behold, therefore, its parts being, even thus, condens'd, a consistent and [Page] hardly-divisible body made; which is, to be a certain naturall species of Physicall mixt body.

7. Hence, again, the causes of passions are apparent: for, we see some compounds suffer from Fire a liquefaction and dissolution into minute particles; as, into Ashes and powder: others, on the contrary, grow hard: others, again, converted into Flame.

8. The reason whereof is clear: for, if the power of the Fire extends it self only so far as to dilate the humid parts which hold together the dry; it comes to passe that the humid parts become larger and more rare, and consequently, the whole it self is rendred more divisible and subject to be diffus'd, by its own gravity, into the best ply towards the Centre; which is, to be liquid.

9. But, if the power of the Fire be so great, as to carry away with it the humid parts; then the dense ones remain resolv'd into minute particles, without a medium to unite them. And these operations are effected, sometimes by the mere force of the fire it self; sometimes by means of some instruments, whereby the humid parts are either increas'd or [Page] decreas'd, according as the Artificer has occasion.

10. But, farther, if humid parts were redundant in the Compound, and Fire were so far apply'd, as only to restrain the excesse, by exhaling those parts which were superfluous; the connection of the humid with the Earthy parts will be lesse dissolvable, and the proportion of the Earthy to the humid, greater; whence, the Compound grows hard.

11. Water, too, by pressing upon it, pierces and enters into the Compound it encompasses, sheir's off its lighter and dryer parts, which it mingles with the whole dry body, and amplifies the humid parts: whence, it makes the body flaccid and loose, and next door to dissolution.

12. Some it utterly dissolv's; as salts: for, they are compos'd of certain minute parts, betwixt which Water easily enters; and, so little they are, that they swim in the water. There becomes, therefore, a kind of fluid body, thickned with little heterogeniall bodies swimming in it; to which if Fire be apply'd, by exhaling the superfluous humid parts, it remains salt, as at first.

13. But, sometimes it happens, that [Page] something is mix'd with the salt & water, which has a power of separating the watry parts from those little swimming bodies, and of pressing down & precipitating them to the bottome: for, when the supervener has aggregated to it self the parts of that humid body wherein the dissolution was made, that which was mixt with them (if it be heavier then water) descends; for, before, it was sustain'd by its conjunction to the water which was lighter.

14. There are bodies, too, which grow harder and are petrify'd by the mixture of water; either because there wanted moisture to make them coagulate, as it happens in dry or sandy bodies; or because, by the addition of the extrinsecall moisture, the superfluous humour is suck'd out, in which their inward parts were dissolv'd and rendred flaccid; or, lastly, because the pores of the Compound being constipated without, the internall heat better dries the inward parts.

15. But, when the redundant parts are so very minute in themselves that they are easily rarifyable, they are diffus'd into Flame. And these parts are such as we call fat or aiery, which consist of a thin moisture compacted with minutest dense parts.

[Page] 16. It falls out, too, that, when the fiery parts within are many and happen upon a convenient moisture, they multiply and encrease themselves without any apparent extrinsecall cause, and open themixt body it self, so that the Vessell cannot contain it, but it boyls and runs over; as we see in the Must of wine and of other fruits: and this kind of action is call'd Fermentation.

17. Sometimes, too, it blazes out in Fire and Flame; as appears in Hay, and other dry bodies moistned and crowded together: which comes to passe, by the fiery parts of the dry'd bodies turning the humid parts into fire, and, at length, by their multitude and compressure, raising a flame.

18. Passion or suffering from Earth is when, either by its weight or some other pressure and hardnesse, a change is made; which, even by this, is understood to be a division, and, commonly, is wrought two ways: For, either the parts of one body are intirely separated, by the interposition of another body of another nature; or else, only some are joyn'd to others of the same nature, as it happens in liquids when they are swash'd up and down.

19. The first of these divisions is made [Page] severall ways; by breaking, cutting, cleaving, pounding, and the like; the other, by hammering, drawing, impression, bending, compression, and the like: all which appear in themselves to be made, by the motion of hard and dense against soft and rare bodies.

LESSON VIII.
Of Impassibility, Destruction, and the Accidents of Mixt bodies.

1 THose bodies which are esteem'd not to suffer at all, that is, no losse; as Gold, though it melt, yet consumes not; the Asbestus stone is purifi'd by flames and not endamag'd; Hair grows not more flaccid, that is, its parts are not more loos'ned, with water; the Adamant is so call'd, because neither the hammer nor fire can master it: These have got a name, through the unskilfulnesse of Artificers.

2. For, the Moderns have found out how a Diamant may be resolv'd to dust, nay, even melted: as also, how to make [Page] Gold volatile: the Asbestus, in the very stone, both suffers from a very violent fire, and, when divided into hairs, is able to resist only a moderate one.

3. It appears, consequentially, what must necessarily follow, if fire be apply'd to a confirm'd and establisht body: For, since some parts of a Compound are moister then the rest, the first efficacy of the fire will be exercis'd upon them; with which, if there be any fiery parts mix'd, those first fly out with the fire, and are call'd Spirits.

4. The next are the moist and more insipid parts, and they are call'd Flegme: Then, the more concocted parts, in which Earth, Fire and Water are well mix'd; and they are call'd Oyls or Sulphurs, and need a strong fire to extract them.

5. That which remains uses, by the Chymists, to be washt in water: wherein they find a more solid part, which sinks down, and this they call Salt; and a lighter part that swimms a top, which they throw away as unusefull; notwithstanding, 'tis dry in the highest degree, and very efficacious to fix fluid bodies.

6. But, if a Compound of these two be throughly bak'd in a very strong fire, the [Page] moisture of the Salt is liquifi'd, and the other being clasp'd into it, and, as it were, swimming in it, so condenses it into a porous body, that it remains alwaies pervious to fire: and such a body is call'd Glasse or vitrify'd.

7. Whence, 'tis clear, that these bodies are in part, made, and, in part, resolved or extracted by the operation of Fire: and that they are not Elements, but Compounds, containing the nature of the whole, as appears by Experience.

8. Out of what has been said, it may be understood, what a mixt body is, viz. A body coagulated of rare and dense parts, in a determinate number, bignesse, and weight.

9. And, when many such unite into one, a certain homogeneous sensible body emerges, serviceable for mans use; though it be seldome so pure, as to be unmixt with others.

10. Hence, again, it appears, that it concerns not a mixt body, of what Figure it be: since, with the same proportion of parts, it may be of any; especially, when one body is compos'd of many little ones. All things, therefore, receive their figure from the circumstances of their Origination.

[Page] 11. For, since the same things must be produc'd after the same manner; and those that are divers, different ways: the variety of manners occasions the variety of figures.

12. For, that which equally dilates every way, becomes spherical; that which dilates irregularly, becomes like a Bowl; that which faints in growing longer, becomes like a Top.

13. That which cannot extend it self in length, becomes parallelly flat; that which is, in some part, defective in breadth, becomes a hexagon, a quadrate, &c. that which cannot dilate it self in breadth, becomes oblong. And thus, at large, and in generall, 'tis evident, whence proceed the figures of mixt bodies.

LESSON IX.
Of the Motion of heavy and light bodies, and the Conditions of Acting.

1. FRom what has been said we collect, that, since the Sun either is Fire, or, at least, operates like fire, beating upon [Page] Earth, Water, and all other bodies, with its Rayes; it summons out little bodies, which, sticking to its Rayes, are reflected with them and mov'd from the Centre towards the Circumference.

2. By whose motion, all the rest must, of necessity, presse towards the Earth: and because the Motion of dense bodies is so much the stronger, the denser they are; and descending bodies, the more they descend, the more they repell lesse descending ones; there must be, wheree're the Sun has any power, a Motion of dense bodies towards the Centre and of rare towards the Circumference; as experience teaches us there is.

3. Whence, first, we see, there can no where be any pure Elements: since, at least, the Rayes of the Sun and the bodies carry'd about with them are mingled every where.

4. We see, too, that dense bodies are heavy, and contrarily, rare are light: and that there is not any inclination requisite in bodies, towards the Centre; as is evident by the experience of Pumps, by which, with an easie motion, a great weight of water is rais'd; or, as when we suck a Bullet out of the barrell of a long Gun.

[Page] 5. We see, moreover, that, since this tumult, of little bodies ascending and descending, swarm's every where: place any body in it, it must needs be press'd upon by others every where about it; and the bodies, which are aside on't, must perpetually pierce and enter into it, if they find in it lighter bodies which they can repell from the Centre: Whence, this tumult is even within all bodies, and, by vertue of it, all bodies are mingled.

6. Whence, again, it must needs be, that the thin parts of every body consist in a kind of perpetuall expiration; and consequently, that every body, more or lesse, operates upon and affects other bodies which approach it round about, or acts in a Sphear; as we see by experience, in hot, cold, odoriferous, poys'nous bodies, and in Animals, &c. Every body, therefore, has a certain Sphear of activity, by this motion; and its action depends upon this action.

7. Again, therefore, since its action is not effected but by an emission of its own parts; 'tis plain, it cannot act upon a distant thing, but by a Medium; as also, that it suffers from that upon which it acts, if it be within that's Sphear of activity: the emanations [Page] of the one running, by lines different, from the emanations of the other.

8. Again, 'tis evident, that, since these emanations are certain minutest particles; in a denser body more will stick to its parts, because its pores are narrow and hard to passe through: wherefore, with greater labour and time, and at the cost of more little particles, a dense body receiv's the nature and similitude of the body acting upon it, retains more strongly, and works more vigorously then if it were rarer.

9. And, hence, the nature of intension and remission is evident; viz. because there are, within the same space, more or fewer of these particles: as also, why, in a denser body, a quality is more intended.

LESSON X.
Of the Motions of Vndulation, Projection, Reflection, and Refraction.

1. 'TIs consequentiall to what has been said, that Water, stir'd and alter'd, [Page] by any violence, from its planesse and equidistance from the Centre, will not suddenly cease its motion and return to rest, though that extrinsecall force be withdrawn: For, since, by that violence, some of its parts are rais'd higher then they should be; 'tis manifest, that those higher parts, by the course of common causes, must presse towards the Centre, and, consequently, thrust others out of their place: wherefore, the motion will continue, 'till every one be restor'd to its own proper place.

2. And, because ther's no motion without a concitation and a certain degree of velocity; therefore, by the very stop of the motion, a new motion will be occasion'd, but weaker and weaker still, till it quite faint away.

3. 'Tis plain, too, that the very same must, of necessity, happen in Aire, if its parts be either condens'd, or stir'd out of their right place.

4. Again, it appears that, if it be thus with the Aire, the same must be expected, too, of any weighty moveable that's carri'd in the Aire: For, since the reason, why such descend not perpendicularly, is, because the progressive motion or the [Page] causes of it are stronger then the causes of descent, at least in part; and, since the moveable has, of it self, no inclination this or that way; it must needs follow the motion of the Aire that's next it. But, since a dense thing mov'd is carri'd more forceably, then a rare body in which it is; the rare body it self, as it gives a beginning to that's motion, so, again, it receiv's an advance from that: whence it comes to passe, that both the Aire and the moveable continue their motion longer then the Aire alone would.

5. Hence, again, it appears, that Moveables (in all other respects alike) the denser they are, the longer they retain their Motion.

6. 'Tis plain, therefore, why Pendents by a thrid fastned above wave up and down, if they be rais'd from the perpendicular and then let drop: for, with their first descent, they move the Aire, following it when it ascends and returning with it when it returns, but with a new and a weaker impulse: and so proceed still, till they can stir it no longer.

7. It appears likewise, that, if a Moveable be violently struck against a hard resister: because the Aire before it must, of [Page] necessity, yield, and that which follows it pushes it on; it will follow the Aire before it, that is, 'twill be reflected from the hard Resister.

8. And this, making equall Angles, at least without any sensible difference: for since an oblique motion is resolv'd into two perpendiculars, which are in a certain proportion, by vertue of the moving causes, and the Angle is caus'd and emerges out of this proportion; it must needs be that, this proportion remaining, the Angle of the result or reflection must needs be the same with that of the impulse or incidence: as in light, where the reflection diminishes not sensibly the force; but, where the reflection notably weakens the force, the angle of reflection will be proportionably lessen'd.

9. But, if the Resister do but partly resist and partly admit, that which is obliquely mov'd will be refracted (as they call it) from the resistance towards the contrary part; that is, at the entring, towards the Perpendicular falling from the mover upon the Superficies; at the going out, from the Perpendicular; as experience, conformable to reason, witnesses.

10. You'l object, that Refraction of [Page] light and dense bodies is very different. I answer, all the Experiments I have ever heard of, conclude no such thing.

11. The cause of Restitution is, that those bodies which recover themselves again are chang'd from length to breadth: but, 'tis known, an extrinsecall superficies, the more equall dimensions it has, the greater Quantity 'tis capable of; whence, the more the longitude exceeds the latitude, so much the more the parts of the imprison'd body are compress'd, whose motion is so much the swifter as they are the more spirituous, and so much the easilyer, too, they are dilated and rarifi'd after they have been compress'd and condens'd by the circumstant causes: and this is that we call Restitution.

12. But, it ordinarily happens that, if they stand too long in bent, they recover not themselves again afterwards: because, either the condens'd parts are rarifi'd, by the expulsion of some of them; or else time has begot some stiffnesse, by the concretion of the parts press'd together, so that now 'tis not so easy for them to return to their former habit.

13. This doctrine is evident, to the very sight in Flesh; which, being press'd, becomes [Page] white, the Bloud retiring; but when that returnes, it comes to it self again and recovers its colour. But Steel, above all things, most swiftly restores it self, because it has a many extremely spirited particles imprison'd in it.

LESSON XI.
Of the Electricall and Magneticall Attractions of hot bodies.

1. OUt of what has been said, 'tis again deduc'd, that, since there's a perpetuall issue and sally of some parts, out of bodies abounding with intense heat; and, thereupon, a certain Orbe of Steams: other little bodies must, of necessity, flow in, after the same manner, to the body it self; and consequently, there must be the same tumult about every such body; Les. 9. 2. as we spake of about the Earth.

2. Hence, we see that hot bodies naturally attract those things which are in the Aire about them: Thus, we believe hot Loafs, Onions, Apples, Dogs and Cats &c. draw infection to them, that is, the pestilent vapours which fly in the Aire.

[Page] 3. But, seeing that Emanations strike the Aire with a certain kind of agitation; those things will be easilyest mov'd with this agitation and brought to the body, which are most sollicited by this stroak, that is, those which are most conformable to the particles that sally out.

4. To which may be added, that such parts, too, will stick faster and easier; and, when they are united, foment the naturall heat of the body; which causes this motion: Thence, we see that Poysons are more easily suck'd out of infected bodies, by other dry'd poys'nous things; but, best of all, by those very bodies to whom the Poyson to be suck'd out is proper.

5. But, when the parts returning are any way viscous, little light heterogeniall bodies stick to them, too, by reason of their gluyness, and return with them; as may be seen in Electricall bodies, which little straws and dust fly to: And sometimes they rebound again, with a kind of Impetus or vehemency; whence appears, that the Steams of such like bodies are very spirited, and start out with certain impetuosities.

6. Out of these things, it appears, that there is, in a manner, a double nature of [Page] every mix'd body; one, as it were, perfect and fit to be evaporated; another, as it were, imperfect and wanting more concoction; which two must, of necessity, be oppos'd to one another, by the differences of more and lesse.

7. Now, if we suppose a body so compos'd in its own Nature, as to be plac'd between two fountains, as it were, of such Steams; it must, of necessity, attain such a disposition, that, on one side, 'twill be apt to receive the one's Emanations, on the other, the other's, and to eject them, again, by the contrary sides.

8. It will, therefore, have contrary vertues in its extremities; but, in the middle, an indifferency, at least, in comparison to the Ends.

9. Again, its Emanations will be carry'd (against the course of other bodies, which return to their own fountains) still directly on towards their opposite fountain: and the body, too, if it hang so freely that it may more easily follow its Emanations then leave them, will it self be carry'd along with its Emanations.

10. But, if it cannot bear them company, and yet be plac'd obliquely to the fountain, and at liberty to turn it self; [Page] with the same force 'twill turn it self to the fountain.

11. Moreover, as the fountain acts upon it, so this body it self will act upon another body of the same kind; but more faintly.

12. Wherefore, since we find by experience, that a Loadstone receives vertue from the Earth, as we have explicated it; and suffers and acts thus from the Earth and upon Iron, respectively; and besides, the searchers into its nature declare, that all the rest of its wonderfull motions depend on these: the reason of Magneticall Attraction is evident, out of what has been said.

LESSON XII.
Of the generation of more compounded Bodies, and Plants.

1.Less. 6. n. 4. 1. 'TIs plain, out of what has been explicated above, that, not only the Elements are blended together to compound a singly-mix'd body; but also many mix'd bodies are united into one more-compounded body: For, since, by the power of their gravity, moist bodies [Page] (which we call Waters) run down from higher to lower places, and, by their running, presse the bodies they meet, loos'ning partly their little particles in passing by, and partly tearing them off along with them; the Water becomes thickned and full of dregs, with many minutest bodies of divers natures.

2. This Water if it rest in any cavity of the Earth, those little bodies sink down in it; and, whether by heat evaporating the humid parts of the water, or by cold binding them together, they coagulate, by their clamminesse, into one body appearing homogeneous through the littlenesse of its parts: which, being imperceptible, are so equally mix'd in every the least sensible bulk, that they shew every where throughout the same uniforme nature. And, this is the most simple generation of demix'd bodies.

3. And these bodies, by the fresh accesse of more water, are increas'd; more of the like matter being added to them by approximation or juxtaposition, as they term it in the Schools.

4. But, if some such thing happen to coagulate, after the fore-said manner, in some concavity not far from the superficies [Page] of the Earth; of so tender a substance and with so much heat, that it should ferment within it self: it must, of necessity, suck into its very body any moisture about it, and dilate and concoct it.

5. Wherefore, such a body must needs be increas'd, out of a certain intrinsecall vertue, and with a kind of equality in all its parts, after that manner as they call by intrasumption or receiving in: and so Tartufoli, Potatoes, &c. grow under ground, without shooting any part of themselves above the Earth.

6. But, if the heat overcome, and be able, by increasing it, to thrust out into the Aire, too, some little particles of this body; which must be of the more subtile ones, that is, the best mix'd of hot and moist: this body will have heterogeniall parts, growing together and subservient to one another; and becomes a manifest Plant, having a root within the Earth, and a blade or a stalk above ground.

[Page]

LESSON XIII.
Of the more universall parts of Plants.

1. 'TIs evident, again, that a Plant, being expos'd to the Sun and wind, becomes harder and dryer, at least, as to its exteriour parts: whence, it comes to passe, that the Moisture drawn up out of the root, either by the power of the Sun or its own naturall heat, more and gentlyer irrigates and waters its inward parts.

2. Whence proceeds, commonly, a threefold difference in the substance of a Plant: for, the outermost part is hard and call'd the Bark; the innermost is soft, as being that which is last dry'd, and is call'd the Marrow or Pith; lastly, the middle is the very substance of the Plant.

3. But, when Moisture flows in greater abundance out of the root, then can be rais'd up perpendicularly, which is the hardest course of all; it breaks out at the sides, splitting the bark of the Plant, and makes it self a kind of new trunk of the same nature with the former, which we call a Bough, or Branch.

[Page] 4. But, since the Plant receiv's a heat' variously temper'd with moisture, by the Sun: 'tis plain, when the moisture is best digested, it must necessarily break out into certain Buttons or Nuts; which are concocted by degrees and, from their originall hardnesse, grow softer by the flowing in of more subtile moisture, and participate in another degree, the same differences which are in the Stock, to wit, a Skin, Flesh, as it were, and Marrow.

5. Only, because some parts of the juyce are too earthy and, therefore, grow hard; these commonly coagulate between the Flesh and the Marrow, the Sun drawing out their moisture to the exteriour parts.

6. These Buttons, being found in the more perfect Plants, use to be call'd Fruits; and that which has the place of the Marrow in them is the Seed of the Tree.

7. It appears, again, that, since the temperaments of heat and moisture are varied without end; there must be, too, infinite other things, as it were, accidentall to Plants, besides what we have mentioned.

8. Whence, we see upon some Berries, upon others Thorns, upon some Ioynts, [Page] upon others other things growing; according to the divers natures of the particulars that concurre to the breeding them.

9. Leafs are, universally, common to almost all; and are nothing but little distinct sprigs, the distances between which are fill'd up & distended with the same-natur'd moisture: for, 'tis evident, the substance of wood and almost of every Plant consists of certain thrids, as it were, compacted together; as appears plainly, in the rending them asunder. Moreover, if, before they stick well together, a more abundant moisture flows in; it distends these fibres, and, while the leafs are yet streightned and shut up, makes them enwrap one another as it were, cylindrically, like a bark.

10. When they peep into the Aire, by little and little, the fibres grow stiffe and streight and stretched farther out, and the leaf unfolds it self; becoming, according to the order of the fibres, broader one way, longer in the middle, and, as it declines from the middle, the figure still abates in longitude: they are split, where the fibres do not joyn together: to conclude, from them and the moisture which [Page] connects them, the leafs receive their figure.

11. It appears, again, that Flowers are a kind of leafs; but of the more spirited and oyly parts: therefore, they are light, odoriferous, and short-liv'd, and, in Trees, they are the forewarners of the Fruit.

LESSON XIV.
Of the Accidents of Plants.

1. OUt of the figure of the parts, the figure of the whole Plant is fitted and proportion'd. The Trunk, which is the principall part, most commonly grows up like a Cylinder, or rather like a Cone, because upwards still it grows smaller, and abates in latitude.

2. When it deviates from this figure, the reason may be easily collected out of the figure of the root or seed. Those which have a weak stock or Trunk do not grow erect, but either run upon the ground, or else are rais'd up and sustain'd by others, and get a spirall figure, like the winding about a Cylinder.

3. For, the naturall motion of Plants being upwards, by force of the heat and [Page] sting out of the Earth; and the Trunk, by reason of its weaknesse, not being able to bear much: it bows towards the Earth, and strives to rise again as much as 'tis able; & so imitates the figure of a serpent creeping. But, if the stemme cling to some prop that may help it upwards; it elevates it self, not directly, or in a straight line, but, as well as it can, winding round about the sides on't.

4. Again; because we see ther's both a kind of annuall and diurnall, as it were, flux and reflux of heat from the Sun: some Plants are but of a day's life; as certain Flowers, which, the same day, blow and wither.

5. Very many last not above a year; and then are repair'd again, either by shedding their seed, or by the reviving of their fountain, the root; or else by the very temperature of the soil. Others of a more constant substance, do not only sustain themselves, but increase for many years. Others, again, even out-last Ages.

6. All have the same reason of their life and death: their life and increase consists in a due proportion of moisture with heat; where this fails, they faint and consume away.

[Page] 7. A Plant dies, either because the Sun, sucking the moisture out of the upper parts of the Earth, has not left wherewith to moisten the root: or, because too much moisture overflowing the root without a proportionable heat, has too much dissolv'd and diffus'd the vertue of it; so that the Sun supervening has extracted its very radicall heat, before it could increase and supply it self:

8. Or else, because, by little and little, earthy and feculent parts, cleaving to the root, have obstructed the passage of the moysture to the inward parts of it: And this way of death, because it follows out of the very action of life, seems more properly to bear the denomination of old Age and a naturall way to death.

9. Out of the same principles, 'tis apparent, why severall parts of the same Plant produce such contrary effects: For, since, in the nourishing of the Plant there is a kind of perpetuall streining and separating of the parts of the Aliment, most of the parts of the same nature must, of necessity, run together to one and the same place and part: Whence, the severall parts of the plant are compos'd of heterogeniall particles of the nutritive moisture; yet, [Page] more or lesse sated, too, with the temper and seasoning imbib'd in the root: Thus, therefore, 'tis consonant to reason, that a Plant should be compos'd of contraries and things that have contrary vertues.

10. The same way we come to understand the Sympathy and Antipathy which is found in divers Plants: for, since 'tis certain that every Plant, to its measure, has a certain Orbe of vapours always encompassing it, (as is evident, in some, by the fmell issuing from them,) and some Plants must needs consist of contrary natures; if the weaker happen to be planted within the Sphear of the stronger, that corrupts and kills it with the stroaks of its vapours which besiege it; but, if the stronger be of a nature that is a friend to it, by the same stroaks it grows more lively and fruitfuller.

LESSON XV.
Of the generation and augmentation of Animals.

1. ANd because, the more fervent the heat is and the moisture more figurable, (that is, in a certain proportion, [Page] neither resisting division, and yet easily consistent) the Plant is divided into so many the more members and joynts: 'tis evident, if there be so much heat as to exhale fumes out of the moisture, and make it actually fluid, the little branches, through which it flows and wherein 'tis contain'd, will of necessity become hollow. And since, by force of the heat, the Moisture is refin'd into watry and oyly parts, the earthy remaining still below: it comes to passe that there are found three, as it were, severall, but subordinate, fountains of Moisture in the same Plant; and, from every one of these their branches, and, in them, their own proper Moistures are deriv'd.

2. Among which, those that savour of Water are the more remote, and more fit to form the exteriour parts of the Plant; and the enclosed humour is more apt for those effects which are perform'd by rarefaction and condensation.

3. Those which savour of Oyle are fitter for Augmentation; as being of a kind of middle nature, and conformable to all the parts. Lastly, the Earthy, for the Conservation of the whole Plant in a due temperament, by the mixture of heat; which [Page] the more solid parts are more susceptible of and longer hold.

4. Again, because the watry parts are very thin and, as it were, in a middle between Water and Aire, in those long and narrow channells; 'tis clear that they are both extremely passive of every impression from without, and transmit it to their fountain or head.

5. And, because their head has a connection with the principall fountain; for the most part, the same passion will passe on even to that: in which, the heat being very acute and spritely, and, consequently, capable of sudden motion; a change in the Plant, proportionable to its nature, will necessarily follow the impression made upon it.

6. This Plant, therefore, will have these two qualities: to be stir'd up, as it were, and irritated with all occurrences from without; and this very principle or head thus irritated, will have power to move any part of the Plant out of its present site into another, according to the manner and measure of the irritation.

7. Which two, making up that whereby we distinguish living Creatures from such as have no life, namely this, that, upon all [Page] occurrences from without, they can move themselves; 'tis evident, that the name of an Animal or living Creature agrees to this Plant: We have, therefore, an Animal, consisting of three principles, a Heart, a Liver and Brain; watred with three rivers, of the Vitall and Animal spirits and the Bloud; by the three various Channels of the Arteries, Veins and Nerves.

8. But, because all things are increas'd by the same things whereof they are made; and all mix'd bodies are compos'd of the Elements; 'tis clear, that Animals may be increas'd by all bodies, so that they be furnisht with fit instruments to make the necessary transmutations.

9. But, some bodies are of a harder transmutation, others of an easier: wherefore, bodies ought to be chosen fit for the food of the Animal; and those that are chosen should again be resolv'd into parts, that the best may be taken and the worse rejected; and this, as oft as is necessary, that is, till such are chosen as, by mere concoction and mixing with the humours of the Animal, may be reduc'd into a substance like it. Now, whilst the fibres are distended with this moisture, both they are strengthned by it and the spaces [Page] between them are fill'd up: and, thus, the Animal becomes bigger.

10. And, because this is brought about by concoction; those bodies which have not yet arriv'd to the degree of the Animal, must needs be the most connaturall Aliment.

LESSON XVI.
Of the Motion of the Heart, and some consequents of it.

1. AGain, because the Heart has heat and moisture in it, and moisture boyls with heat, and is turn'd into fumes; 'tis manifest, the same moisture does not remain constantly in the heart, but, being resolv'd by the heat, is cast out by the motion of the Heart, swagging down and shutting it self with its own weight, till 'tis open'd again and swell'd with other moisture flowing into it.

2. There is, therefore, a continuall flux of moisture through the heart; which, heated in it and then cast out to be dispers'd through the Animal, conserv's it in a due temperament of heat.

[Page] 3. Out of what has been said, may be understood, what a Disease and the Cure of it is: for, when any part is indispos'd, so that unwholesome vapours fume out of it, they, mix'd with the bloud, overrun and discompose, as much as they can, the whole body and the very Heart it self.

4. And, according as these vapours do more frequently rise to such a bulk, that they are able vehemently to assail the whole Animal; so much the frequenter are the Fits of the Disease. And thus, some are continuall, and others have intermissions; some every other day, some tertians, some quotidians, &c.

5. And the true nature and Method of Curing is, To seek out the part originally ill-affected, and apply remedies to that.

6. Thus, too, it appears, how Physick expells one certain determinate humour out of the whole body: for a Drug, &c. being concocted in the Ventricle, which has a power of dissolving and rendring fluid a certain humour of the body, its vertue is diffus'd through all the Veins by the fore-explicated Motion of the Heart; whence, it comes to passe that, being provok'd to stool, that humour rather and [Page] more then any others follows out of all the members; or, if the Physick be diaphoreticall, that will sweat out more then any of the rest.

7. Lastly, 'tis clear, since an Animal is a Plant; by the highest concoction, a Seed or compendium of its nature may be framed in it as well as in Plants: which, duly ejected into a congruous ambient body, may spring up into a new Animal.

8. Now, this seed coagulates first into a Heart, then into a Brain, and at length into a Liver: out of every one of which their own proper little Channels spring; as is observ'd by those that pry artificially into these things.

LESSON XVII.
Of the progressive Motion of Animals.

1. OUt of what has been said, it may evidently be concluded that, since the Heart is mov'd naturally and, by its motion, presses out a fumy humour, which they use to call the Spirit, into the Channels connected with [Page] it self and into the bodies joyn'd to it: and the Flesh is fibrous, viz. certain parts constipated together of a world of minutest fibres sticking to one another: and since, if a connaturall moisture, especially being warm, get into such a body, it makes it swell and, of thin, become thicker, of long, shorter: It comes to passe that the Members, whether consisting of such fibres or knit together by them, attain some kind of locall Motion, by that irrigation from the Heart.

2. Again, the Channels, especially if they are extremely little, will swell, too, and become shorter.

3. Since, therefore, 'tis apparent, that there flow abundance of Spirits from the Heart to the Brain; and again, that, from the Brain through the whole body, mostsubtilly-hollow nerves are extended to all the members, and lose themselves by their dispersion, as it were, in the Muscles: 'Tis plain, the Muscles will swell with these spirits, as oft as the Heart overflows; and consequently, become shorter, and the parts adhering to them be drawn backwards to the head of the Muscles; and, which clearly follows, all the extremities of the body be mov'd, from the motion of [Page] the Heart, according to what is convenient to its nature.

4. It follows, too, how certain other members, which have no Nerves but only fibres, have motions of their own; which consist almost in nothing else but in contraction and dilatation: For, the fibres being made shorter by their irrigation, they draw the body with them into that figure which follows out of their contraction; which, when the fibres are transvers'd, is dilatation, when other ways set, contraction.

5. Again, hence appears how the progressive motion of an Animal is effected: For, an Animal which is mov'd by walking, whilst it stands still, has the Centre of its gravity set directly to the Centre; but, when it sets a foot any way, it inclines the centre of its gravity, and consequently its whole body, that way; till, transferring the other foot, it sets it down too: and this often repeated is walking.

6. But, one that leaps, when he has contracted the superiour or fore-parts to the inferiour or hinder-parts; suddenly pouring out spirits through convenient Nerves, he thrusts the fore-parts forwards, with such a force that the hinder-parts follow them.

[Page] 7. Something like this is the creeping of feetlesse Creatures: for, fixing their breast or some other part, they bow their backbone or that which serv's in stead of it, and so draw the hinder to the fore-parts; then, fixing some of their hinder-parts to the Earth, they advance their fore-parts, by straightning again their back.

8. Swimming is made out of leaping: for, it being effected by the Instrument's first being crook'ned and then straightned again; by the resisting Water the body is pusht forward: and, the same happens in flying.

9. Now, the body being heavier then the Medium in a certain proportion, and consequently, obliged to spend a certain time in descending; and the adventitious Motion making the Medium strain with more vehemence against that motion of the body downwards, or according to the centre of its gravity: 'tis plain, such a body will not sink.

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LESSON XVIII.
Of the five senses of Animals.

1. OUt of what has been said, it appears, that there are certain Channels spread through the whole body of an Animal, full of a kind of aiery humour; and that they are long and narrow: whence, the least impression made in any extremity of the body must needs, in a moment, run to their fountain, the Brain; and, thence descend to the Heart. These channels, therefore, being any way obstructed, the Animal is sensible of nothing without.

2. And, since bodies that make impression, either do it by their immediate selves, or else by the mediation of some other body; and, those that act by their immediate selves, either do it in their proper bulk, or broken into parts, or by naturall emissions; and those bodies, by the mediation whereof universally one body acts upon another, are either Aire, or Fire, or light which we see every body bandies against another: It follows, that an Animal, if it be perfect, may be affected [Page] these five ways by the things about it.

3. And, because 'tis evident that these five ways are distinct; the Animal, too, it self will have five distinct dispositions, by which it will be apt to receive these five impressions; to chuse the things that are congruous and refuse those that are noxious, both in its food and other things belonging to its conservation.

4. Again, because these impressions are different; 'tis fit the Organs that are to receive them be plac'd in severall parts of the Animal: Animals, therefore, have five Senses.

5. 'Tis apparent, too, that the Senses are nothing but certain different degrees of Touches: For, the parts of the same body must needs make only a more subtile stroak, of the same nature with the stroak of the whole.

6. And, hence, we distinguish the differences of Tasts; so, as, that one pricks, another cutt's, another brushes, another smooth's: the differences of Smels, too, are a-kin to Tasts.

7. But, the differences of Sounds are the same with those of Motions; distinguisht by swiftnesse and slownesse, by bignesse and smalnesse, Lastly, 'tis evident, [Page] that Fire or Light make stroaks too, by its Activity upon other bodies.

8. It appears, farther, of what nature the Senses must be, and where situated. For, the Touch, being to receive the excesse of those qualities whereof the body of the Animal consists, requires nothing but a middling kind of Moisture, or the naturall quality of that vapour which fills the Channels; and therefore, like them, 'tis diffus'd through the whole body.

9. The Tast, because it requires a Moistnesse which may dissolve the minutest parts, needs an abundance of Moisture, and a site where the food may be dissected. The Smell, by which Aire chiefly enters into the body, requires a site and Organ where the vapours may stick, that, being constipated together, they may act the more powerfully.

10. The Hearing and Sight require a situation near the Brain; in an eminent place, where Motion and Light may come to them more pure; and Organs, which may multiply Light by refraction and Motion by reflection.

11. Nor is it lesse evident, that the Sensation is perfected in that part of the Organ, where chiefly resides that vertue for [Page] which the Sense was made; that is, to transferre to the Brain the action of a body without: If the black of the Eye, the hammer of the Eare, the pulp of the Nose doe this; the Sensation also must be plac'd in them.

12. It appears, too, why the Senses are believ'd to consist in a kind of Spirituality and abstraction from matter: For, since they are ordain'd by nature, only that the Animal may be mov'd; the stroak of sensible things is so thin and subtile, that it changes not the quality of the Organ sensibly, and, therefore, 'tis not believ'd to be materiall.

13. And, hence, too, the Sensible object is commonly believ'd to be in the Sense, not as something of the same nature or contrary to it, but purely as another thing; by which mistake, Sensation is thought to be a kind of knowledge.

LESSON XIX.
Of the Objects of the Senses.

1. LAstly, it appears, wherein consists the being Objects of Sense: for, Touchable things, 'tis plain, are the first Qualities, or those which are immediately [Page] deriv'd from them: Tastable things, conformable to nature, are Sweets; and must necessarily consist, as the nature it self does, in a moderate heat and moisture, or, of the degree proper to the Animal.

2. From this temper, other Savours incline, too much, towards cold and heat, or moisture and drynesse: as salt, sharp and bitter things tast too much of heat; restringent, crabbed, of cold; sour, bitter and sharp, of drynesse; insipid, of moisture. Proportion'd to this is the account of Smells.

3. Sounding things are dry and trembling, which are easily wav'd up and down: but, soft things hinder Sound.

4. Since Colours strike the Eye, their nature must consist in a vertue to reflect Light; that is, in a density & constipation of parts, and in having a many-corner'd figure: And these commonly favour of cold and drynesse; and their opposites, of moisture and heat.

5. Lastly, Light it self (and dilated flame, if wee'l suppose it repell'd from the Object to the Eyes, must necessarily doe the same as Light) will represent the figure of a thing by intershadow'd stroaks upon [Page] the Organ, and strike, more or lesse, according to the nature of that which reflects it: if it passe through a triangular glasse, it will receive and carry to the Eye the same varieties, that is, differences of Colours.

6. But, that light, too, does those things which are proper to fire, (viz. to dry, to burn, to be reflected, refracted, collected, dispers'd, produced and extinguisht,) is so clear, that it cannot be doubted but light is fire.

7. Nor imports it against this, That it seems to be mov'd in an instant, That it fills the whole Aire, That it penetrates solid bodies, as glasse, &c. for, these things seem so only, through the defect of our Senses; which perceive not its motion, nor those little spaces by which the Aire is separated from the light, nor the pores of those bodies through which it passes.

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LESSON XX.
Of Knovvledge and Memory.

1. FArther, it appears, that these Motions, when they strike against the destin'd part of the Brain, in which knowledge is produc'd; though it be fatty and clammy, according to the nature of the Brain, yet are they repell'd from it, because frequent new impulses charge upon the same point.

2. Those little bodies, therefore, retreat thence, carrying away with them some little particle of the Brain which sticks to them; and wander up and down in the ventricles of the brain, till they rest upon the bottome or stick to the sides.

3. Whence, being rub'd off, as it were with a brush, by the motion of the Spirits, when there's occasion; they swimme again, and are brought back to that part which is the fountain of knowledge.

4. The first stroak produces Knowledge; the later, actuall Memory; which, if it be made by design, is call'd Remembrance.

5. Again; since Motion requires that [Page] the Nerves be well fill'd with Spirits, and that the extrinsecall parts be strong; but Sensation needs only a clam and clear disposition of the Humour contain'd in those Nerves: 'tis plain, both that there may be Sensation without Motion, and Motion without Sensation.

6. It appears, too, why the Memory is set a work by the Similitude, as also by the connection of Objects: For, since, in a liquid body, things that are alike naturally gather together, and are apt to stick to one another; and, since those things which enter together and at once must necessarily attain a kind of connection, which is easily preserv'd in the clammy nature of the Brain; when, by any means, they are brought again to the fountain of sensation, they must needs meet there together, and in a kind of Order.

7. But, since contraries use to enter together into the internall sense, and make one another more taken notice of; 'tis plain, if Hunger provokes the Animal, 'twill remember Meat, if Thirst, Drink, if Seed, the Female. Whence, it appears, that Passion and Will stir up the Memory: as also other causes, too, which, by pouring in spirits, sweep or brush, as it were, the [Page] Brain; and for that these causes do this by accident, they are all comprehended under the name of Chance.

8. It appears, again, that they, whose brain is of a thin and hot constitution, easily apprehend, conjecture happily, opine rashly and changeably: they, whose disposition is more dry and thin, have a good Memory and rememberance too, but opine lightly and changeably.

9. They that have a temperate Brain, have the best judgement: since, they look upon many things, before they establish their Opinion; and, for the same reason, they are not changeable.

10. Lastly, since, by the stroaks of Objects, some litle particle is still taken off and carry'd away from the brain: when the same returns again, it must needs appear that we have been sensible of that before.

LESSON XXI.
Of Sleep and Dreams.

1. IT appears farther, that, since the Nerves must needs be distant from that part of the brain wherein Sensation is produc'd; it may fall out, that, [Page] the motion by the Nerves being obstructed, there may yet a Motion proceed, from some part of the brain to the knowing part: and then, some things will appear to the Animal to be, as if it had receiv'd them by its Senses, when yet it did not receive them.

2. This stopping of the Senses is called Sleep; and such apparitions, Dreams: An Animal, therefore, will sleep and dream sometimes.

3. But, because there's no necessity, that all the Senses or Nerves must be stop'd at once; 'twill happen, that an Animal may partly sleep and partly wake: Whence, it comes to passe that, the Nerves of the Tongue being left unstop'd, some talk in their Dreams; and, if the Nerves for hearing, too, be unstop'd, that they answer to those that speak to them; or, if there be no obstruction towards the Marrow in the Back-bone, they walk, too, and use their hands.

4. When, therefore, some of the Senses are at liberty, Dreams may be provok'd by them: another way, by some naturall disposition, which affects the heart, and makes a motion in the brain conformable to that impression: or, lastly, by [Page] much precedent thinking, objects may be stirr'd up and down, too, in ones Sleep.

5. But, a Man being in a manner quiet in his Sleep, he happens sometimes to judge more truly of things he sees, in his sleep, then when awake: For the Soul undisturb'd, of its own nature, more clearly perceiv's the force of the Objects playing up and down before it, to discover Truth; and unperceiv'dly orders them: Hence, it comes to passe, that, sometimes, we discern, in our Sleep, future or absent things, which we could not find out nor pierce into, by consideration, or discourse, when we were awake.

6. And, the same may be the case of Fools, Mad and Melancholy persons; though 'tis very rare and to be esteem'd prodigious, and they have a great many falsities mixt withall: whence, neither are these apparitions to be confided in; nor is it possible there should be any Art of Divination by Dreams.

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LESSON XXII.
Of Passions and the expression of them.

1. FArther, 'tis deducible, that, since impressions made in the Brain are convey'd, by a short and open way, to the Heart; they must, necessarily have an effect, too, in the Heart, conformable to the natures of both.

2. Since, therefore, the heart redounds with hot spirits: as we see a little drop of red wine, dropd into water, diffuses it self into the water and changes it, according to its nature; so, the impression of these little bodies will have the like effect upon the fumes of the heart.

3. Hence, again, it proceeds, that the motion of the heart, through these, becomes sometimes freer and better, sometimes worse; and that these very qualities passe into the Pulse, whence, according to the variety of Passions, the Pulse varies.

4. Again, Passions must needs differ by dilatation and constriction: for, by a conformable [Page] Object, the Spirits of the heart are made more rare, whence, the heart more freely enjoys its motion; by things disagreeable to Nature, the Spirits become more crasse and heavy, and the heart is, as it were, oppress'd.

5. Again; since an absent Object does not equally affect, with a present one; these motions will be more remisse in its absence then in its presence: whence, we deduce four differences of Passions; Ioy and Grief, for a present good or evil; Hope and Fear, for them absent.

6. Anger is, in a manner, mixt of a present evil and future good: and, 'tis the most violent of all the Passions; because, so mething that's contrary to it falling into an abundance of hot bloud, produces a most swift effect; just as when something moist and cold falls into molten Metall.

7. Again, because the Spirits, flowing at that time out of the heart to the brain, retain that nature they had receiv'd in the heart; in the brain it self they gather to them those Phantasms that are conformable to them: whence, the Animal must, of necessity, be much fixt upon that thought, and not easily admit any other then [Page] such as are conformable to its Passion.

8. And, because the heart is joyn'd to the Pericardium, and the Pericardium to the Diaphragm; and the Diaphragm is furnisht with an eminent Nerve, and is moveable within it self: it comes to passe, that every motion of the heart flow's, by the Diaphragm, into the neighbouring parts of the body, and all the motions of them all return again, by its Nerve, to the brain; and, so, beget a sense of that grief or pleasure which the heart is affected with. Whence, too, without any externall Sensation, but by thinking only, an Animal may be delighted and incourag'd to action.

9. Again, because, by repeating either the stroaks of Objects or very Thoughts, there grows a great multitude of Phantasms of the same thing, in the brain; and, in like manner, the heart often agitated by such like causes in a certain motion, gets an aptitude to be easily mov'd so: there grows, both in the brain and in the heart, a certain constancy and facility of knowing and doing; in which consists the notion of Intellectuall and Morall habits, as far as they are grounded in the body.

10. Lastly, since, by the motion of the [Page] Diaphragm, the breathing is alter'd; and breathing, express'd out of a hollow place through a narrow passage, is apt to yield a Voice, by reason of the multiplication of its processions, occasion'd by the reflection of the cavity: it comes to passe, that the Voice of Animals is altered by the variety of their Passions; and so, in grief, they expresse one Voice, another in hope, another in joy.

LESSON XXIII.
Of the communicating Affections to others.

1. FArther, it appears, that, since, all Sensations (whether of those things which affect the body from without, or those we are sensible of because one part of the body affects another,) are produc'd in a certain site to the Organ of Sensation, that is, in a right or the naturall line of Motion, from the Entries of the Nerves to the place of Sensation: It follows, that, when we think of the same things, they must be in the very same site and posture; whence, it comes to passe, [Page] that, in Dreams, and in Distraction of mind we seem to see the very things themselves before us.

2. 'Tis apparent, therefore, they are in a fit situation for this, viz. to be press'd, by the motion made by the heart, into the same Nerves: whence it follows, that, by the thinking on any Object, the nerves are just so mov'd as when the Senses convey it; and consequently, the same action is apt to follow.

3. And, thus we see, Laughing and Gaping, &c. proceed from seeing others doe so; as love and hatred from hearsay.

4. Hence, it comes to passe, that blearey'dnesse and other distorsions of the Members are often deriv'd from beholding others: that contagious Diseases, too, (for which some disposition in the body prepares the way) are attracted and, as it were, suck'd in, by fear: and, that other Diseases, which the retraction of a humour to some certain parts produces, are introduc'd by mere sight or imagination only.

5. Again, because the members of the body are connected, and the exteriour depend upon the interiour; these operations cannot be produc'd, but that, byconnection, [Page] the exteriour members must some way be chang'd: and thus, we see, all the Passions shew themselves in the countenance and actions of Animals; upon which depends the principles of Physiognomy.

6. Again; because usuall Motions render the Organs apt for such motions: it comes to passe, that, in generation, the like dispositions are oft transfer'd to the issue, and the Off-spring becomes like the Parent, both in its naturall operations and those which depend upon Sensation; nay, even in some triviall things, too, as in Warts, in hookednesse of nose, and the like.

7. Moreover, since the issue in the womb derives its nourishment from the Mother, 'tis no wonder if the desires of the Mother, at that time, passe into the issue: as, if they long for wine or whatever other food or pleasure, that the issue should suck in such a disposition as to be obnoxious to the same things all their lives.

8. Again, since such longings fix a vehement resemblance of the things in the Fancy; and terrour, too, or any violent passion does the same; and that image is made by Motion: 'tis no wonder that the [Page] Spirits of the Mother tremble with the same motion, even as far as to the Issue it self; and that, as light with its stroak, paints in a glasse the reflected Image of a body, so this Image should, in the little tender body of an Infant, and where-ever it finds matter apt to preserve it, leave an image fixt in the flesh, as it were a Mark of that desire.

9. And, because, too, the Infant is never more tender then at the first commixtion of the Father and Mother's Seeds, and women, in the conjugall act, especially some, are very passive: 'tis no wonder, if a violent apprehension of their's, in that conjuncture, often changes the complexion of the Issue; the Female Seed receiving a kind of proper stamp, from the image which possesses the Mother's fancy.

LESSON XXIV.
Of the seeming-rationall Actions of Animals.

1. 'TIs plain, again, that Animals must, of necessity, operate seeming-reasonably, or like Reason: For, since the work of nature is the work [Page] of THAT REASON which fram'd nature; the effects of Nature must needs be the works of the same Reason, and resemble the manner of Reason's working.

2. Again; some of their operations must needs exceed those which Reason works in us: For, since they spring from a REASON which transcends ours, 'tis but consequentiall, that they should transcend the effects of our Reason; as appears in Generation, which we understand not how 'tis done, even when we doe it; as neither could a Man tell the houres of the day as a Clock does, which yet is it self but a work of our Reason.

3. It appears, too, whence proceed the Antipathies and Sympathies of Animals: viz. partly, out of the naturall disposition of contrary qualities,Less. 14. n. 10. as in Plants: partly, out of an apprehension of evil joyn'd with the Object; which sometimes takes its rise in the Parents, and is transmitted to the Issue, out of the disposition of the Parents body.

4. Farther, the vertuous Actions of Animals, as those of ove of Glory, Gratitude, Generosity, &c. are nothing but such materiall impetuosities; which, because we feel in our selves joyn'd with vertue, [Page] we, therefore, believe to be just so, too, in Animals.

5. Lastly, their concatenated and orderly-proceeding actions are the effects, partly, of fore-going actions, partly, of the disposition of the circumstant bodies; as they may find by experience, whoever have the leisure to observe a Dunghill Hen: The admiration of which actions ought not to stop at the Animals, but at their Maker; who has fram'd such a concatenation, out of which the Effect follows after so many Causes.

6. And, thus much may suffice about Animals, in common. MAN three things raise above the Crowd: in his Internall Sense, That he can order, and rummige for, and own, & use the Instruments of Knowledge: in his Tongue and Voice, That they do not purely expresse his Passion, but even his Mind, too: in his Body, That he has Hands, an Instrument not fitted to any one determinate operation, but destin'd to a kind of universality of Acting. But, in these three, there's nothing requires a Comment.

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Peripateticall INSTITUTIONS. Third Book.
Containing those things, which concern the WORLD and its greater Parts.

LESSON I.
Of the limitation, unity, and composition of the World.

1.THe WORLD we call, the Collection of all existent Bodies. That this is not infinite, 'tis evident: For, if any longitude be infinite, that very notion imports that it has infinite parts equall to one another, (paces, suppose, or feet); and consequently, from an assigned point in that line, some one foot will be, by infinite others, distant; and so a term assign'd, [Page] and limits fix'd at both ends, to a line which is call'd infinite.

2. If you answer, some one foot is infinite intermediate ones distant from an assign'd point, but that foot cannot be assign'd; as some one horse is necessary to ride on, yet no determinate one: 'Tis reply'd, indetermination and infinity are qualifications or manners of a thing in potentiâ or possibilitie: and so a horse is undetermin'd whilst he is yet but necessary, that is, in possibility, not in act.

3. Nor makes it against this, that there are infinite objects in the understanding of the Intelligences: for, admit there were, we are not sure they are there actually distinct, and not after the manner of one.

4. You'l say, Suppose Quantity to exist as great as 'tis possible, and 'twill be infinite: 'tis no contradiction, therefore, to suppose it infinite. 'Tis answer'd, that, since, supposing any Quantity, how big soever, yet one may alwaies suppose a bigger; there is no Quantity so big as may exist: whence, this is an implicatory proposition, that is, such as couches contradiction in it self; as taking the manner of possibility to be the manner of act.

5. Again, 'tis evident, there's but one [Page]World: For, since there's no space, by which two worlds could be separated one from the other; and quantitative bodies joyn'd together, even by that very conjunction, are one; all quantity whatever must, of necessity, by continuednesse, conspire into one bulk.

6. Again, 'tis collected, that the World is not compos'd only of minute bodies, by nature indivisible: for, since an extrinsecall denomination is nothing, but the intrinsecall natures of the things out of which it rises; and, if there were only indivisibles in the world, all the intrinsecalls would remain the same; since the same things alwaies afford the same denomination, 'twould be impossible any thing should be chang'd.

7. And, hence it follows, that there is still some liquid substance, where-ever there's any locall mutation: and therefore in Heaven it self, the Sphears cannot be so contiguous that there intervenes not some liquid and divisible substance between them.

8. Since, therefore, a whole, after 'tis divided, is no longer what it was; every divisible substance, in that very respect, is mortall. Wherefore, every moveable body [Page] must needs be either corruptible it self, or joyn'd to something that is corruptible.

LESSON II.
Of the Mortality and kinds of those things that are in the World.

1. TIs infer'd, that all Corporeall nature whereever is corruptible; since all participate the same nature of Quantity: whose differences being rare and dense, and, out of their permixtion, the Elements and all mixt things being deriv'd, the differences of all quantitative things, that is, bodies, must needs be proportion'd to these we see amongst us; that is, there may be Elements or mixt things differing, indeed, in temperament, but the same and entirely agreeing in the common notions.

2. Again, since the differences of mixt things, Vegetables and Animals, both from one another and among themselves, are condivided by the opposition of contradiction; that is, by this not being so much as [Page] that; as, mixt bodies are either vegetable or not vegetable, and vegetables are sensible or not sensible, &c. though we cannot tell whether all our kinds may be found in the other parts of the world; yet, certain it is, that no other kinds can be found, which may not be reduc'd to these amongst us.

3. 'Tis objected, Since the Notion of a body is, to be moveable; bodies, to which a simple Motion is naturall, must be simple: now, we find three simple motions in nature, upwards, downwards and circular: the former two of these oppose one another, and consequently, both they and the bodies, whose they are, destroy one another and are corruptible; circular motion, therefore, because it has no opposite, must be incorruptible, and so the Heavens, too, to which this motion is proper. 'Tis answer'd, since a body is a mover mov'd; and to be a Mover is a nobler Notion then to be mov'd; the differences of bodies are rather to be deduc'd from that of being Movers, then from this, that they are moveable.

4. Again, 'tis false, that the subjects of simple Motions must be simple bodies: for, both all mix'd things are carry'd upwards and downwards, and two Elements [Page] are assign'd to either of these motions; and, which is most considerable, these motions agree to these bodies, by accident, not out of their naturall disposition. 'Tis false, too, that the third, viz. circular, is a simple Motion: for, Aristotle himself acknowledges it to be compounded of thrusting and drawing; and 'tis manifestly carry'd on according to two perpendiculars at once, and at least four times reflected, and has a great difformity in the proportion of its carriage: Whence, it appears, if we were to judge from the nature of their Motions, the Heavens must needs be no simple but a most compounded body.

5. 'Tis objected, again, there would have appear'd, in so long time, some change in the Heavens, if they were corruptible. 'Tis answer'd, there's no necessity of that; as 'tis not credible that, if one were in Heaven, he would discern the Changes we suffer: But, again, many things have appear'd, as more at large shall be shew'd hereafter. Moreover, Light is concluded to be the same with Fire; and that our very Eyes witnesse to be spread every where over the visible world: but, where there is any one Element, there, [Page] Aristotle acknowledges the rest, too; and indeed, with the same Eyes, we discern an opake body reflecting the light.

6. 'Tis objected, Animals cannot live in the Moon; not Men, particularly, because, in it, there is not a variety of Earth and Waters, nor rains, nor clouds: Adde to this, a most vehement heat; the Sun shining continually upon the same part for fifteen whole days together, and never receding, in latitude, above ten degrees from the part illuminated.

7. 'Tis answer'd, If there be a kind of grosser Aire, as 'tis observ'd, there will, of necessity, be Water: for these grosse vapours are made out of Earth, and have the nature of water before, though perhaps the Clouds are not so big as to be taken notice of. Besides, the Almains have observ'd something like a vast cloud in the Moon. The extreme heat is moderated, by the height of the Mountains, the lownesse of the Vallies, the abundance of water and woods: as we see by experience under the Aequator, from which the Sun is at farthest about twenty three degrees distant; and, but about ten only for half the year, from the middle between the Aequator and the [Page] Tropick; yet this hinders not but those are most happy regions.

LESSON III.
Of the parts of the Planetary World, and especially those of the Earth.

1. THe greatest part of the world, which we have some kind of knowledge of, consists of the Sun and six great bodies illuminated by it; and some lesser ones, which are, in a manner, members cut off from the greater.

2. The bigger bodies are counted by Astronomers, Saturn, Iupiter, Mars, the Earth, Mercury, Venus: which, 'tis certain, (of the rest by evident experiments, of Mars and Saturn by their parity to the rest) are opake bodies, illuminated by the Sun.

3. Mercury is believ'd to have appear'd like a spot under the Sun. Venus appears horned like the Moon. Iupiter; suffers from the Stars accompanying him [Page] and they, reciprocally, from him. The Sun alone shines of it self.

4. Moreover, since light is Fire, the fountain of light is the fountain of Fire, too. The SUN, therefore, is a vast body, consisting of Mountains and Plains which belch out fire; and, as Aetna, Lipara and Hecla are never without flames, and especially the Vulcanian Mountains of the new world, so, much lesse is the Sun.

5. Both the clouds of ashes (vapour'd out in vast abundance) and other bodies mix'd with them, which make the Spots in the Sun; and the fountains of flames, observ'd, sometimes more fiercely sometimes more remissely, to blaze out, witnesse this to be the nature of the Sun.

6. The whole body, therefore, of the Sun, or, at least, as deep as is necessary, must needs consist of some matter resembling to bitumen or Sulphur; and be intended by nature for nothing but an Esca and food of flames, serviceable to other bodies.

7. And, since we have the same Actour upon the other six Bodies, the effects, too, must needs be analogous upon an analogous matter, as we have already prov'd [Page] that of all other bodies must be: amongst these, the Earth, by which we are nourisht, is the best known to us.

8. This, our very senses tell us, is divided into three parts: A solid Substance, which we call Earth; a liquid but crasse one, which we call Water; and aninvisible one, which we call Aire.

9. The Earth is not a Loadstone: first, because it hangs not on any other; for, the Stars of the Eighth Sphear are at too great a distance, to look for any Magneticall action from them: secondly, because that vertue in it which attracts the loadstone, is not diffus'd through the whole body of the Earth, but rests only in the bark of it, as it were: thirdly, because, if it were a loadstone, it would joyn to some other body, as the loadstone does to Iron; nor would it be carry'd about in any place or with any Motion of its own, but proceed to joyn it self with that other. The parts of the Earth are Mountains, Valleys, Caverns, Plains.

10. And, since, we know, Fire will make water boil and swell, and dilate whatever other bodies are mixt with the water; we see, too, that the Earth, both [Page] within in its bowells, and in its superficies, is furnisht with heat to concoct Metals and juyces: as, in our bodies, when the heat abounds with moisture above the just proportion in any part, it breeds warts and wens and blisters; so, hills and mountains must, of necessity, rise out of the body of this great Mother.

11. This is evidenc'd both by ancient and modern Experiments, which tell us of Islands cast up in the Sea: we hear of cinders belcht out of Aetna and Vesuvius; for the most part, falling upon and encreasing the Mountains, but sometimes, too, raising fields into Mountains: and, hence it is, that Mountains, for the most part, ingender Metalls and are full of wholesome hearbs, as is generally observ'd.

12. Hollow places, whether upon the Superficies of the Earth, which we call Vallies, or Caverns within its bowells, proceed from two proper causes: the sinking and settling of the Earth into those places, which the matter for the Mountains left vacant; and the washing away of that matter which, by rains and torrents, is carry'd otherwhere, especially into the Sea. Thus, the Channells [Page] of Rivers are made; thus, between vast and very high Mountains, the Channells of the Valleys are deeper: Hence, in one place, the Earth is hollow'd away, in another rais'd.

LESSON IV.
Of the Sea, and its Accidents.

1. THe parts of water are Sea, Lakes, Pools, Rivers, Fountains. The Sea is but one; since, all those parts, whereof every one is call'd a Sea, communicate among themselves, either openly, or by hidden Channells: as, the Caspian discharges it self into the Euxine; for, otherwise, twould overflow with the constant tribute of such great Rivers.

2. That the Main does not overflow, is because of the amplitude and vastnesse of its surface: whence, it comes to passe, that as much is lick'd up by the Sun into clouds and winds, as is pour'd in by so many Rivers; as will be evident to one that shall observe how much the Sun, in one day, draws up out of a little Plash.

[Page] 3. Hence proceeds its saltnesse: for, since the salt which flows in out of the Rivers makes not them so much as brackish; neither could they infect the sea, were it not that, the sun sucking up the lighter parts, the salt remains in the rest.

4. Moreover, the salt, which the sun must necessarily make upon the top, out of the concoction of the land-floods which fatten the River-water, does not sink down to the bottom; both by reason of the motion of the sea continually mingling it together; as also because, the deeper the water, the salter and heavier it is, unlesse some speciall cause interpose, as perhaps in the mouths of Rivers.

5. From the abundance of salt, the sea gets both density and gravity; moreover, that it will not extinguish flames very readily; as also, by a multiply'd reflection of light, to sparkle and flame, as it were, when 'tis stirr'd.

6. The same, too, is no little cause of Sea-sicknesse, (besides the very tossing, which, of it self, is a cause; as appears in those who are sick with riding in a Coach); for, the stomack, being offended with the saltnesse, strives to cast it up; as appears by that salt humour we oft are sensible of in colds.

[Page] 7. Hence, too, comes it, that the sea is not frozen; the mixture of salt hindring the freezing wind's entrance: For, where the sea is congeal'd, 'tis not the sea-water, but the snow falling on it, which makes the sea seem frozen; as our Countrey-men, that go Northern voyages, witnesse. Yet, others report that, near the shoars, a sharp wind will freez the sea in some, ev'n hotter, Countreys.

8. But, when vast Rivers flow into narrow Bayes, they must needs overflow into larger seas: whence, of necessity, there must needs be a kind of perpetuall flux of some seas into others; as, of the Euxine into the Propontis, of this into the Mediterranean, of the Mediterranean into the Ocean. The reason is, because the lesser sea, with the same quantity of water, is more swell'd and, consequently, has a higher levell of water: Again, the power of the sun drinks more out of a larger sea then out of a narrower; whence, 'tis more easily sunk low to receive the adventitious waters.

9. Out of the sea, the sun, like fire out of a boyling pot, extracts continuall vapours; which, either in Rains or Winds, it disperses over all the Earth: for, all those [Page] Winds, which we feel cool from the Ocean in the Summer, though we perceive it not, yet, both their extraction makes us confesse they are moist, and their density and softnesse, savouring a similitude of and derivation from Water.

10. The Earth, therefore, heated by the Sun, being sprinkled with these, whether in Rain or Wind, (for the Earth, being once hot, a great while retains it) dissolves it self into Vapours: and so, by little and little, they are rais'd to the higher parts of the Earth; where if they feel the cold of the Aire without, or, by any other cause, are coagulated into bigger parts, they become Water, and by degrees, break themselves a passage through and flow down upon the lower grounds.

LESSON V.
Of Fountains, Rivers, and Lakes.

1. ANd, because the causes of evaporations are continuall, Fountains, too, continually flow; which, joyning together, make Brooks and Rivers, and, when they have watered the whole surface of the Earth, restore to [Page] the Sea the superfluous moisture, to repair again the Earth with a new distillation.

2. Let him, that thinks not the Rainwater sufficient for this, imagine the Mountains, out of their innate heat, are more pory then the rest of the Earth, and hollow, as we have said; wherein there may be receptacles of water: out of which the heat, that is every where mingled, often draws vapours, which it transmits to the top of Mountains covered with Rocks; whence, afterwards, water starts, as it were, out of bare Rocks.

3. That this is the generation of Fountains, the stones and earth at a Fountainhead, all deaw'd like the cover of a boiling pot, are an argument: also, the thinnesse & subtilty of the vapours so rais'd through the Earth; & certain herbs, too, nourisht by such like vapours: by observing all which, the Water-finders search for Well-springs.

4. Of Fountains, the famousest are Baths, that is, hot ones. The Authour of the Demonstrative Physick, ripping up some fountains, both learnt himself and convinc'd others, by the very course of nature and by experiments Masterly made, that cold Water, full of a salt (which he calls hermeticall) with a mixture of Sulphur, will grow hot.

[Page] 5. The same may be seen in watred lime; and in Tartar, with the spirit of Vitriol infus'd in it: The cause of all these is the same, viz. The fiery parts, fetter'd, as it were, in dry bodies, being set at liberty by the mixture of a liquid body, dissipate into vapours that liquour, it consisting of parts easily dissolvable.

6. Hence, it appears, why cold fountains, sometimes of the same favour, are next neighbours to hot ones, viz. because they passe not through the same salt.

7. Why some are more, some lesse hot, viz. either through the abundance of this salt, or through its nearnesse to the mouth of the Fountain.

8. The same Authour evidenc'd the constant lastingnesse of the heat to proceed, from the naturall reparation and recruit of the same salt; when, extracting the salt, he found the remaining mud season'd again within three dayes: not by the raining of salt down out of the Aire (as that Authour thinks) but by the nature of the Earth's being such that, mixt with Aire, it turn'd into salt, or, salt was made of the moist Aire and that Mud.

9. It appears, again, why some Fountains have wonderful vertues, either in benefit [Page] or prejudice of our bodies: why others convert Iron into Copper: others petrifie sticks and whatever is thrown into them: why some yield gold, others silver.

10. Namely, because, flowing through severall sorts of Earth, they rub off along with them little particles and dust; so minute, sometimes, that they are not discernable from the very body of the water, and then the water is reputed to have such a vertue; sometimes they are visible, and then the water is said to carry some such thing in it.

11. Of Fountains flowing out, Brooks and Rivers are made; whose running, they say, requires the declivity of one foot in a Mile: Their reason is, because a line touching the Earth, at a Miles end, is rais'd nine inches; Artificers, therefore, adde three inches more, that it may conveniently run; (whence, the fountains of Nilus should be almost a mile and half higher then the Port of Alexandria); but erroneously: for, when ever the water running behind is so encreased, that it be able to raise it self above the water before, this rule of declivity changes.

12. Among Rivers, 'tis strange one should swim upon and, as it were, run over [Page] another; as, Titaresus upon Peneus, Boristhenes upon Hypanis: The reason is, the gravity of the one and the lightnesse of the other; or, they will not mix out of some other cause, as, if one of them be oily.

13. The overflowing of Rivers in Summer proceeds, either from the melting of Snow shut up in Vallies, or from an abundance of Rain, falling in a far-distant Climate, and therefore not suspected by us; as is evident, in Nilus, Niger, and some others of no name and scarce any better then Brooks.

14. Fountains, if they emerge into a hollow place of the Earth, beget a Lake: and, if this cavity happen in any elevated Superficies of the Earth, whether in a Mountain or a high Plain; it comes to passe, that sometimes great Rivers flow out of Lakes: And sometimes vast eruptions of waters, without any appearing cause; when a Lake emprison'd in the bowells of a Mountain, suddenly overflows and opens it self a way.

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LESSON VI.
Of the Aire, & those things vvhich are done in it near the Earth.

1. THe Aire is evidently divided into two parts; that which is habitable by Animals, and that above: this last has no limits we can know of; that first is contain'd in the Sphear of Vapours which ascend with a sensible heat out of the Earth, that is, as much as the Sun cherishes with its heat and renders fit for the life of Animals: This, therefore, is comparatively hot; the rest comparatively cold, which the Snows and cold winds about the highest Mountains testifie. A third, which they use to call the Middle Region, there's none; since the place of Meteors is very uncertain, some residing near the Earth, others above the Moon.

2. Out of the Globe of Earth and Sea, by the power of the Sun, little bodies are rais'd up, of the minutest bulk; which, the Sun deserting them, sometimes fall down upon the Earth like drops, and are call'd Deaw; some drop from hard by, others [Page] from a great height; for, all night long vapours descend, and the higher more slowly, both because they are higher and because every drop is lesse: Hence 'tis that Chymists rather chuse the Deaw that falls last, as also the summer Deaw, these being the purest and subtilest.

3. From this Deaw 'tis, that the night grows cooler towards day-break; though the first Drops breaking and diffusing themselves, intends the same cold by the expiration of their cold parts.

4. The drops of Deaw, especially the least, are perfectly round: the cause whereof is, because the water of Deaw is very tender, and encompass'd in and bound together with a skin, as it were, by the more viscous Aire about it.

5. As we see, therefore, Bladders blownup become round, because in that figure they are capable of most Aire: so, every fluid body, when 'tis straightned, must of necessity mould it self into a round form. And, this seems the cause why Quicksilver so easily runs into little sphears: for, since the least fire will vapour it away, the least cold, too, must needs compresse it.

6. Some Deaws are sweeter then the rest, especially in the hotter Regions; [Page] whence, a kind of Hony may be lick'd from the leafs of Trees, and the Bees are believ'd to make their hony out of Deaw; also, the Manna, in Calabria and Arabia and other hot Regions, is a kind of Deaw; Cloves, too, and Nutmeggs are thought to derive their sweetnesse from a kind of Deaw which falls in the Molucco Islands: Now sweetnesse proceeds from a concocting and digestion of Moysture, into a certain oily softnesse and equability of parts.

7. Frost is congealed Deaw. A Fogg or Mist, properly, is the expiration of the Earth or Water out of a certain Vent made by their native heat: For, we sensibly perceive Foggs rising out of moist Valleys, Lakes, Rivers and the Sea: they presently fill all our Horizon: then, for the most part, they rise either in the Morning or Evening, seldome when the Sun shines hot: they rise, too, in great abundance, out of some certain place. All which agree not to Vapours extracted by the Sun.

8. And, because they expire out of putrid water, they stink and beget a Cough. But, that which uses to rest upon Mountains and in Woods, especially when it [Page] rains, is another thing: for those are really Clouds, not Fogs, which either fall or are sustain'd by the leafs of Trees; whence, in certain Islands, we read there's no other water, then what is so gather'd and distill'd from Trees. Some Mists are purely watry; others have a kind of slimy muddynesse withall, deriv'd out of the quality of that body whence they are sublimated.

9. The Nets we see in trees & hedges, as also those thrids that fly up & down sometimes, are made by the parts of the Fog growing together; or, of little bodies, too, rais'd up by the Sun: minutest humid bodies gluing together other minutest dry ones; that we may learn, out of these rude principles, how Silk-worms and Spiders Webs and even Flesh it self is woven.

LESSON VII.
Of Clouds, Rain, Snovv and Hail.

1. HItherto, we have kept near the Earth. But, if the Sun drives the vapours higher, they are gather'd into Clouds: Now, a Cloud is a swarm or heap of minutest bodies elevated by the Sun; of such a crassitude & thickness, that, like a solid body, it either reflects or deads the Light.

[Page] 2. That 'tis no solid body, is plain; both from the tops of high Mountains, upon which it appears like a Mist, and does not much wet those that goe into it; as also, from its generation, and rising up in minutest bodies.

3. And the reason is plain, why they hang above; namely, because of the littlenesse of their parts, as, we see, Dust thrown up staies a great while in the Aire: Besides, the motion of the Aire hinders their descending; wherefore, in a high wind, we fear not the Rain, which, as soon as the wind is down, presently falls.

4. Now, that which makes it fall is the forcing those little bodies into a straight place; and, therefore wind brings Rain, because it thrusts the little drops one against another and makes them bigger.

5. Besides, the wind it self is often incorporated with the Vapour and, by sticking to them, makes those particles, which before were too little, now to be big enough and fit for descending: as, when a warm wind rushes against a cold vapour, or contrariwise: and therefore, cold winds in the Summer and warm ones in the Winter chiefly bring Rain.

6. But, because those things that are rais'd [Page] out of the Earth ascend, not onely from the Superficies, but out of its very Bowells, too, through the pores: nay, they are expell'd and thrust out from the bottome of the Sea, and the Earth under it; the Seawater forcing whatever is dissolved in the bottome, lighter then it self, to ascend: And, because there is a perpetuall vicissitude of Vapours, bandy'd from the Poles to the Aequator, and from the Aequator back again to the Poles; these Consequents follow:

7. That little particles are drawn up into the Aire and Clouds, of all kinds of Earth, clayey, stony, nitrous, bituminous, metallick, & whatever other sorts there are: again, of all sorts of Plants, Trees, Roots, Animals: all which being hurry'd up and down in the Clouds from one part to another, are scattered; and, if any where they come to find a convenient receptacle and nourishment, there such things or creatures are produc'd.

8. But, because some are apt to be form'd suddenly; (as, Froggs easily grow out of Mud; and, 'tis told by a man of credit, that a certain Chymist, in a quarter of an hour, brought certain seeds to grow): it happens sometimes, such as [Page] these, too, rain out of the Clouds.

9. So, it rain'd Wheat, some yeares since, in the West of England, or rather, something like Wheat; and the same, I believe, those other miraculous rains are to be accounted, viz. that it rain'd not bloud, but a red water, something crasse it may be; and not Iron, but a kind of ironish stone; so, too, not Flesh, but something like Flesh may have rain'd other where: For, we are wont to call things by the names of others which they resemble, especially when something of miracle is joyn'd with it; so greedy we are of seeming to know or have seen something more then others.

10. Snow and Hail seem to be accidents of Rain; with this difference, that snow is rain whilst 'tis yet in such little parts that it cannot descend; but Hail is it congeal'd, when 'tis in such drops as are apt for descending: For, that the generation of Snow is higher then that of Rain, the tops of Mountains witnesse, cover'd all the yeare with Snow; which they could not be, were they ever drench'd with Rain.

11. And, that 'tis congeal'd in minutest particles, is evident, to one that considers it, both from the height of its place and [Page] the very nature of Snow; for, the flakes are not of one continu'd body, but, as it were, ashes or little dusts made up together: Its whitenesse, too, proves it, that is, its eminent virtue of reflecting light: for, suppose a world of little sphears, smooth and extreamly minute, made up together into one body as little as can be visible; and, because every one of those convex Superficies are apt to scatter light; in its proportion, from every point, that quantity must needs appear extreamly white.

12. The Rine, too, witnesses it, and a kind of snowy-hail we sometimes see like Coriander Confits: for, certain minute particles of snow are easily discernable; and, if one look very curiously upon a flake of snow, one shall discern a composition without end, as it were, of distinct bodies coagulated. Lastly, the whitenesse of Froth proceeds clearly from the same cause.

13. Hence, the doubts about snow are easily resolv'd: as, why the vapours should not rather immediately fall down in Rain, then turn into Snow; since there needs a lesse intense cold for Rain? For, either they are admitted to be first in the degree of Rain, before they become Snow; but descend not, because the parts are too little [Page] yet: or it must be said that Rain does not signifie every moisture, but a dropping one, such as is not in so minute particles. The cause, too, of its softnesse is plain; for, even Diamant dust, if it be small enough, will be soft.

14. Again; why 'tis often sexangular, or rather like a Star with six rayes? For, since six other equall circles just encompasse and inclose a Circle; if Snow be compos'd of little Sphears, the first composition will have six jettings out, to which those things may stick which, in motion, are apt to touch and stop against what they encounter: Such a compound, therefore, is apt to be form'd into a star-like figure.

15. The cold, if it has been very intense and dry, slacken's before Snow, because of the Snow's moisture; especially, if it come with a gentle, a South, or Westwind: as also, because a snowy cloud more compresses and straightens the Aire near the Earth; whence, the Vapours which rise out of the Earth, being thrust and crouded close together, grow warmer; and thus, too, Snow, lying upon houses, makes the upper rooms warmer, by hindring both the entrance of the wind and the issuing [Page] of the vapours. In the same manner, also, it protects the Earth and Roots from the cold.

16. But, the warmnesse, which is felt after the fall of Snow, proceeds from the free action of the Sun, which before was restrain'd by a grosse cloud interpos'd against it: as also, because the cold wherewith we were infested, whilst the cloud hung over us, lyes now, as it were, subdu'd and imprison'd under our feet. That the falling of Snow hinders Sounds, 'tis, because it deprives the Aire of its agility.

17. Hail is Rain congeal'd in falling: it receives a figure either from the drops, or from the wind and the collision of the drops now growing hard, or else by chance or the concurrence of accidentall causes.

18. Those that discern monstrous forms and shapes in it sometimes, polish and finish up, by the help of their imagination, certain rude lines: as 'tis often seen in Stones and whatever other figures.

19. That it so soon melts, the reason is, because there remains in it more water, then of the dry vapour; the wind or congealing Aire having light upon great [Page] drops: For, that this is the cause of congelation, our expecting Ice and a Rine the next day witnesses; to wit, when the wind is grow'n sharper by the cold of the night.

LESSON VIII.
Of fiery Meteors appearing in the Aire.

1. WHo'd expect Fire out of water? Yet we have it sometimes out of the Clouds, and even out of Rain: Nay, in a very Tempest, there stick to the Masts things, the Ancients call'd Castor and Pollux; a wonder familiarly seen by the Mariners.

2. But these and many such like seem rather to rellish the nature of vapours that reflect light, then of Fire: for, both (Will of the wispe, or) Ignes fatui do not burn nor flame out, but only shine; as also those Dioscuri (or Castor and Pollux) have the form of a globe, which is not the figure of Fire. Again, Flames, in a thin and tenuous [Page] matter, are not long-liv'd; as appears in Lightning, and in a Candle, which we see sometimes blaze up, enflaming the smoak about it; but suddenly extinguish again and retire to the Wiek: The flames, too, which belch out of the Vulcanian Mountains are often but short-liv'd.

3. Be this therefore a sure rule; whereever the figure is determin'd and constant, 'tis no fiery or flaming matter: For, the way of Fire is, to brandish Pyramids upwards, with an uncertain motion; the crasser matter pressing downwards.

4. Besides, an Ignis fatuus has been found fallen down in a slippery viscous substance full of white spots: The same, too, is the matter of Falling-starres; as, both a learned man hath found it; & amongst our selves, when any such matter is found in the Fields, the very Countrey-men cry it fell from Heav'n and the Starres, and, as I remember, call it the Spittle of the Starres.

5. Ignes fatui (or Wills of the Wisp), then, are a certain viscous substance, reflecting light in the dark, evaporated out of a fat Earth, and flying in the Aire. They commonly haunt Church-yards, Privyes, and Fens; because they are begotten [Page] out of fatnesse: They fly about Rivers, Hedges, &c. because in those places, there's a certain flux of Aire: They follow one that flies them and fly one that follows them; because the Aire does so: They stay upon Military Ensigns and Spears; because such are apt to stop and tenacious of them: In the Summer and hot Regions they are more frequent; because the good concoction produces fatnesse.

6. Flammae lambentes (or those we call Haggs) are made of Sweat or some other Vapour issuing out of the Head; a notunusuall sight amongst us when we ride by night in the Summer time: They are extinguisht, like flames, by shaking the Horse Mains: But, I believe rather, 'tis onely a Vapour reflecting light, but fat and sturdy, compacted about the Mains of Horses or Men's Hair.

7. Cardanus tells of a certain Carmelite, that as often as he thrust his head into his Coul, it flam'd out; and that 'tis usuall enough in Spain, for sparkles to fly out of woollen garments rubb'd upon ones head: Nor doubt I but these are reall fire such as uses to fly out of Wood, Canes, or Flints, by rubbing or striking them, [Page] for these and such like are full, both of fire, and a certain vapour which is fewell for it; whence, when many hot parts light upon a considerable part of the vapour, they scorch and kindle it; whereupon, after such a production of fire, there remains in some an offensive sent, as of burning.

8. The Hair of Horses, and Cats, as also Sugar rub'd together in the dark, are said to produce the same effect: The Eyes, too, of some are said to sparkle, viz. when they shine with spirits, and reflect the light as if they were glasse. Yet doubt I not but the Eyes may, by some preternaturall disposition, yield reall light; it seeming evident in Cats.

9. But, that the most part of these are idle stories, I collect from this experiment, that it has seem'd, even to my self sometimes, that my Chamber was all light; and I saw every thing plainly: when, notwithstanding, I have often catch't my self in it, and found mine eyes shut all the while; and that my memory within, was working upon those thiings which I thought I saw: and sometimes I found that I err'd, too, imagining [Page] some things to be in this or that Place, which indeed were not.

10. Falling-Stars are a certain viscid or slimy matter, rais'd out of the Earth in very minute parts, and coagulated in the Aire; which, when, in its fall, it comes within our sight, beautifies all its way with reflected light: Yet, sometimes, it falls not downwards; but, being carry'd traversly by some motion of the Aire, 'tis call'd a Gliding star, 'till, either being dissipated, or by some other Accident, 'tis seen no more.

11. Caprae, Trabes, Bolides, Faces, Dolia, Clypei, (as the Ancients call them), or whatever other names such Meteors may have; whether they are reall fires, or only certain Clouds brighter then ordinary; neither is it deducible clearly enough out of Histories, (they relating scarce any thing save that they burn in such a figure; but that they take burning for shining 'tis very credible, even from hence, that they mention no tokens of their burning); nor have I ever met with any very curious observer treating of this subject.

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LESSON IX.
Of truly fiery Meteors, hanging in the Aire.

1. THe true fires, therefore, are Lightnings, Dragons, and those they call Fire-Drakes: For, first, they have not a clear brightnesse, as falling and gliding Stars have (which is almost a sure sign of reflection), but a dimm'd one (from the condition of the matter) as it were with smoak, as we see in our fires; though this rule may fail on both sides, unlesse it be prudently apply'd: Again, they are short-liv'd: Thirdly, the ashes of Dragons are often seen, and the effects of Lightning are well known. The Nature of Fire-drakes is like that of Lightning or the blazing of Candles; so that 'tis, unquestionably, a sudden kindling of an oyly vapour; and it varies its figure with every motion, as fire uses, according to the various dispositions of the combustible matter. To apprehend the Causes of these things,

2. Let us imagine the hottest days effect [Page] that upon the Earth, which, upon a Chymicall matter, the most intense heat does, that, after the gentler, is apply'd to extract Oyles, that is, the most glutinous and crasse moisture: Suppose that, out of fat and soft grounds, they raise Vapours, not liquid, but compacted with a deal of dense matter, not without a vast abundance of fiery parts imprison'd in them.

3. That these Vapours can neither be elevated into a very high station, nor long sustain'd above: That, yet, to the proportion of the heat, they are carryed higher (according to the nature of the Region and of the concurring causes) in one Climate then in another: And that, through the motion and tumult of the Clouds, these vapours meeting with one another, being of a glutinous substance, stick together and are constipated; that, being constipated, they are kindled, and, being kindled, either break out or are thrown out.

4. Again; this matter, being the heaviest of all that are elevated, will be hurryed downwards, as we see in Golden-gunpowder: for the dilating of the fire makes and applyes an impression of the [Page] adhering matter, that way which the matter leads: It breaks, therefore, through the Clouds, there, where 'tis easiest descending; and being, in the time of its passage, for the most part, directed obliquely, because the Cloud is thickest towards the Earth, 'tis, so, hurry'd to us.

5. When nothing but the flame approaches us, 'tis said to lighten: when, without Thunder and in a clear season, any lightnings appear, we say it flashes.

6. Hence, 'tis apparent enough how Thunderbolts come to be darted out of the Clouds: For, the fire in the Clouds being extreme violent, it bakes a light stone, like a Pumice or those which are made in furnaces for Metalls: and that, having the fire still adhering to it, and being light of its own nature, is carry'd, like an iron kettle or earthen Porringer in water, and descends with violence.

7. Again; 'tis evident how Thunder is caus'd: For, that most suddain rarefaction of Fire cannot be made, without a most swift compression of one Cloud to another; nor this, without a mighty noise, such as we hear [Page] at the suddain extinguishing of a violent and intense fire, and at the dashing together of the waves of the Sea in a Storm.

8. From the different matter of the Lightning there happens the variety of different effects: As, when, the Purse or Scabbard being intire, the Mony or the Blade is melted; it proceeds from hence, that, in the Lightning, there is the nature of those Salts, which serve to melt Metalls and yet have no power upon slighter subjects: when the Wine congeals, the Vessell being broken; 'tis a sign of cold Spirits in the Lightning, by which liquid things are rendred consistent and hard things are broken; as we see by the congealing of water in a glasse or earthen vessel close stop'd: when water will not quench it, it has a mixture of Wild-fire in it, such as we see in burning Fountains.

9. Iron is us'd against Lightning, because 'tis a kind of matter something akin to Lightning, and draws the volatile spirits to it self, so that it does other things no hurt: Mushromes, too, come on the better for Tempests, because the [Page] Rain which accompanies them is warm and fat; as the fields of Aetna and Campania are rendred more fruitfull by the eruptions of the Mountains, because much heat and fat matter descends withall.

10. Hence, that they call the Fiery Dragon is a certain weaker kind of Lightning: Its livid colour, and its falling without noise and slowly demonstrate a great mixture of watry exhalation in it: nor is there any thing else of singular in it worth taking notice of; for, 'tis sufficient for its shape, that it has some resemblance of a Dragon, not the expresse figure.

LESSON X.
Of the generation and nature of Winds.

1. NOw, it happens that the exhalation shut up in the Clouds is, sometimes, very lean and dry; and then, instead of Lightning, a wind is pufft out: sometimes alone, and then 'tis call'd Ecnephias; sometimes mixt with flame, [Page] as when a fat and lean vapour are mingled together, and then 'tis call'd Prester.

2. But, if it breaks out through a narrow passage, and is whirl'd about like water, 'tis call'd Typhon or a whirlewind: for it brings down with it, even to the Earth, that whirling impetus, and, being reverberated, as it were, back into the Aire, hurries away, wrapt up in it, whatever it meets unable to resist it upon the Earth: All these winds are properly call'd Storms and stormy.

3. Some signs, by the providence of God, they send before, of their coming; as all vehement things do: which proceed hence, that, in corporeall things, a part must of necessity be made before the whole; and, in motion, the weaker must goe before, the violenter must follow.

4. Hence it comes, that Animals have a kind of sense of Storms before they come. Again, because, for great things, there must precede great preparations; a change in the causes may, by diligent persons, be observ'd: so Mariners foresee future Storms, by the Sun, the [Page] Moon, the Clouds; and Shepheards, Heardsmen and such others, by their Cattel.

5. Out of what has been said, 'tis easie to conceive the Generation of Winds: For, if a vapour or exhalation be either so dry or so scatt'red that it cannot coagulate into great drops, it descends in the form of dust; and, where it first finds resistance, there it begins to take a determination and make, as it were, a channell of its Motion.

6. And, that way the first parts have gone before, the later follow, (by the force of consequence, now, and the impetus of the Aire) and make way for others: Thus, therefore, they run through the Horizon, till either the Sun has suck'd them up again, or their Atoms have adher'd to other bodies, especially moist ones, with which they are easily incorporated.

7. Hence, may be resolv'd the questions about winds: For, first, if the exhalation be high, it makes the Rack ride, but it comes not near the Earth: when there happen to be many exhalations of severall lightnesses, the Clouds appear to ride severall ways: when the [Page] causes of the exhalations hold out pertinaciously, the wind lasts longer from the same corner: when the vapours, flowing in from one corner, are more dense and abundant then from another, then the wind is more vehement on that side.

8. And this happens, either from the quality of the Earth whence they are extracted: for, out of a moist and cold ground, the vapours are densest; out of a moist and hot, most abundant; out of a dry and cold, they are still lighter; out of a dry and hot ground, they are lightest of all.

9. As also, their way is to be consider'd: For, they mix themselves with the vapours through which they passe, and are imbu'd with their qualities. Again, much is to be ascrib'd to the Heat which dissolves them: for, a moderate heat dissolv's those that are more subtle, a violenter those that are heavy and thick.

10. It happens, too, that the nature of the Corners from whence the wind comes, is accidentally alt'red sometims: for example, If, from the North, for the most part, come dry and fair-weather Vapours; it may well [Page] fall out that the Vapours carry'd by the South-wind, when they are past us towards the North, meeting with a stronger Northwind, will be brought back to us pouring down rain; and so, from a serene corner we shall have rain, and, contrary-wise, fair weather from the South.

11. Out of the same Principles, may be understood the reason of Etesiae, that is, Winds that alwayes return at such a set season of the year: For, the originall causes of the Winds being certain and determin'd, (among which, the melting of the Snows is the principall), which return at set times of the year; the Winds, too, unlesse something interpose, must needs return at the same Seasons. Such are the Northern Etesiae: These constantly blow, in Italy and all over Greece, at Midsummer; rising, as I believe, out of the Alpes, not from the farthest North, since they are not felt in the intermediate Regions: And they rise out of the Earth after 'tis moistned with the Snow; for the Snows are said to melt about the end of May; whence, 'tis plain, they that blow at the middle of Iune cannot be rais'd, but out of the Earth already well watred; unlesse perhaps some Snows hid in the Valleys are then first sensible [Page] of the Sun's violence, or that the Sun should draw a cool breath of Aire out of the Snows without melting them.

12. Such are the East-winds, which we have in England, out of Russia and Muscovia, about the end of March and beginning of April, for fourty dayes together sometimes, upon the first dissolving of the Snow in those parts. Such are the Westwinds the West of England is subject to, at the latter end of Summer and beginning of Autumn; brought to us from that part of America under the same Meridian, over a vast Sea and out of moist Regions, whence, for the most part, they are rainy.

13. It appears, out of the same Principles, why some Winds are heavy and low, others light and high: For, 'tis plain, these conditions must needs follow the quality of the Subject whence the Vapours are rais'd, and of the heat that raises them: For, as Chymists, with a soft fire, extract the purest and lightest Spirits, but, with a violent heat, heavy and troubled ones; so Nature, too, with a moderate & gentle heat, raises the purer & sublimer winds; but the heavier, more vehement, and lower winds it forces out with extreme heats.

[Page] 14. Hence, again, 'tis plain, some are wholsome, others hurtfull: since, their effects must needs follow the condition of the nature of those vapours whereof they consist. But, we must note, that some winds have very guiltlessely got an ill name: for, those that in one place are unwholsome, in another are wholsome.

15. The Sea-winds are commonly unwholsome, as bringing along with them heat and moisture, the principles of corruption: Yet, in very hot Regions they are wholsome; and sometimes in the height of Summer, because, then, they refresh; and because they are drawn up higher by the Sun, they are penetrative, without any harm.

16. 'Tis to be noted, that the winds always take the compasse of the greatest Circles: because, being thrust out with violence, they take the shortest line; which, upon the superficies of a Sphear, is the Arch of the greatest Circle.

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LESSON XI.
Of Earth-quakes and their Effects.

1. BUt, because we have said, there are Caves under ground; and both our experience of Pits sunk, and many extraordinary effects demonstrate Fire & water, there, too: there must necessarily be notable effects of the vapours extracted out of the bowells of the Earth.

2. If, therefore, out of some subterraneous humidbody, vapours chance to be rais'd, by a subterraneous fire, too; and they prove too bigg for their place: 'tis manifest that, alwaies increasing and becoming condens'd, by the continuall accesse of new vapours, they'l seek themselves a way out, according to the force they have, where ther's the easiest passage. If that chance to lead into any vast underground Cave, the Earth will quake with a great impetus and groan; but nothing will appear above ground.

3. But, if the easiest issue be towards the superficies of the Earth, the vapour will burst out through it: and, if it be noxious to Beasts or Birds, 'twill bring [Page] either Death or a Disease along with it; making with the eruption either a gaping Hollow or a Mountain, according as the Earth either sinks or is sustain'd and, as it were, vaulted. Sometimes 'twill bury and swallow up Cities; sometimes transport vast pieces of Earth; and produce other effects, whereof we find expresse memorialls in History.

4. The Prognosticks of an Earth-quake, they say, are an infection of the Fountains with a sulphurious savour; an unusuall calmnesse of the Air and Birds; a swelling of the Sea without any apparent cause; blackish streaks under the Sun of an unusuall length: all (if they are truly Prognosticks, and not onely Accidents, which, sometimes and not for the most part, happen) are the effects of a spirituous Vapour bursting out from the bowells of the Earth.

5. They are said to happen chiefly in the Spring and Autumn, therefore, (if the opinion be true) because the Superficies of the Earth, being warm, becomes slacker with the rain: But, I should rather believe it a chance that many should be recorded in Histories about these seasons; for, both Winter and Summer have felt their Earthquakes, [Page] and in the Torrid Zone, where they are most frequent, the differences of Spring and Autumn from the other seasons are very inconsiderable.

6. The Sea-shores are most subject to these motions; because the subterranious flames and fumes receive no little nourishment from the Sea; and the moisture which soaks into the Earth, renders it very fit for breeding vapours.

LESSON XII.
Of the Meteors of the other parts of the World; and especially of Comets.

1. THese accidents of our Orbe, and its parts, which are usually call'd Meteors, must necessarily be found, too, in the other bodies, which, we have said, are enlightned by our Sun: And that, out of the nature of quantity and the mixture of Rare and Dense; if they have their severall degrees and differences.

2. Nor in these only, but in whatever bodies besides, wherein alterations are wrought, by the operation of fire upon [Page] denser matter; for the same reasons.

3. 'Tis evident, too, that our Sun cannot warm and enlighten all those bodies that reflect light to us: for, if it were as far distant from us, as Astronomers suppose the Sphear of the Fixed stars, 'twould appear to us to be but of the sixth Magnitude; and consequently, it could not communicate to us any considerable either light or heat: how much lesse, in the situation where 'tis, could it reflect so far as to us a light of the first Magnitude, from any Star so far distant.

4. Adde to this, that one that should collect, from the proportion of the basis of a Cone to its Axis, how much light the Sun could reflect to us from the eighth Sphear, would find it absolutely invisible. Besides, the very Aire, through which the light passes, by little and little drinks up and extinguishes it: whence, in a thicker Aire, it spreads it self a lesse way, then in a rarer; so that, in so vast a journey, 'twould be utterly deaded and not seen.

5. A Meteor of the Planets, perceptible by us, is a Comet; which its very-little Parallaxis convinces to be, sometimes, sited above the Moon.

[Page] 6. That 'tis not fire, its constant figure; its Tayle, not oppos'd to its motion but to the Sun; its lasting consistency; its matter, light and to be seen through; and lastly, its Motion, more regular then we observe in fire, largely convince: farther, that it has nothing of fire but the colour: adde to this, that Fromundus, with his very eyes, discern'd the Tayle of that Comet in the Year 1618, to consist of the reflection of the Sun's light.

7. Be it, therefore, A vapour which partly reflects the light of the Sun, partly, drinking it in, either repells it back again to us by refraction from it self, or, letting it through, by reflection from another body: And, its fore-part will be the Head, its hinder (whether part, or something only accessnry to it) will be the Tayle.

8. And since, by this generation of a Comet, any figure of its Beard, any Motion, any winding of its tayle, but, for the most part, the opposition of its Tayle to the Sun and the lesser light of its Tayle then of its Head, may be fairly [Page] solv'd; this intire subject is clearly display'd.

9. Out of the same principles may be deduc'd, that fading Stars are Comets; but, so far off, that the secundary or refracted light of their Tail, by reason of the height, either cannot be distinguisht from the body, or cannot be extended to us, because of its extreme faintnesse: as also that, its motion cannot be discern'd.

10. Even these, therefore, witnesse that there are Meteors among the very fixed Stars; and those, so much the more constant and lasting as the bodies out of which they are extracted are larger.

LESSON XIII.
Of the Ebbing and Flovving of the Sea, and its Accidents.

1. SInce, out of what has been said,Lesson 10. it appears that the gravity of the vapours and the straightnesse of their issue are the cause of the violent motion of the winds; and that the heaviest vapours are extracted out of the Earth, when 'tis well moistned: It becomes evident that, where vapours [Page] are rais'd out of the Sea only, they are lighter; & that, if they be turn'd into winds, without being straightned, they will be calm ones. And, since, in the great Pacifick Sea, in the Indian & Atlantick Ocean, quite through the whole Torrid Zone, there are vast waters, &, consequently, in some measure, secure from the incursion of Shorewinds: there must needs be light vapours rais'd up by the Sun through all that Tract, which, the Sun retiring, must turn into winds, taking that course which the Suns rarefaction of the aire makes most easie; & this, all the year long; & consequently, there must be a continuall East-wind.

2. And, because the Aire naturally moves in a Circle, still yielding and flying before it self; it must needs turn again by the Shore-side, drawing along with it the Vapours it finds; yet, not so constantly as under the Aequator, because of the Shore-winds.

3. Moreover, eye-witnesses affirm, that East-winds range for 27 degrees of Latitude from the Aequator on each side; and West-winds the next ten: and, of Longitude, in the Pacifick and Indian Sea, about eleven thousand Italian miles; and, in the Ocean which leads to the new [Page]world, from the Canaries to the Bay of Mexico, about 70 degrees, that is, some four thousand more such miles: so that, if we allow the Aequator twenty one thousand miles, these winds possesse, thus, almost three quarters on't.

4. Since, therefore, notwithstanding its calmnesse, this wind carryes great ships eight miles an hour; it must of necessity drive the waters themselves, in the middle, with great violence, towards the West: whence they must needs overflow upon the shores, and return again from the shores to the middle; and, where they meet any shores, withstanding their course to the West, be reflected towards the East: as also, they must rush into all the Bayes, and, after a determinate time, return again, according to the winding of the shores; the account of which time must be taken from the common Channell.

5. We have found, therefore, an apparent cause why the Sea should fill the shores with its motion towards the East and West, and empty them again, with a constant course, which we call the Ebbing and Flowing of the Sea. That this proceeds from an extrinsecall cause, & not because the water moves lesse, that is, slowlyer then [Page] the Earth, appears from hence, that the Ebbing and flowing is discover'd, in some places not very deep, to extend not above six fathoms; all the rest of the water is calm and like a Lake: whereas, if the Ebbing & Flowing follow'd from the motion of the Earth, it must alwayes be mov'd ununiformly from the bottō upwards; without any sensible beginning of the contest of the Waters.

6. Hence the reason may be given why the Flux proceeds from East to West & back again, in the open Sea; why no swelling should be perceivable in the Mid-sea, but only at the Shores: The reason is, because there are no marks by which we might take the height of the Sea; for 'tis found to swell there, too, if any Island occurre, how far soever from any other Shore.

7. Moreover, why there should be a continuall Flux of the Sea observ'd, towards the West; viz. because this wind in the middle of the Sea perpetually drives the waves towards the West.

8. Why, too, the Flux should be more vehement in one part then in another: viz. from the abundance of waters flowing in, and directed by other causes the same way; as, by Rivers, or the repercussion of the Shores beating the greatest part of the [Page] floud together against some one shore.

9. Also, why there should be six hours Flood, and as many Ebbe: for, since the wind proceeds from the Sun, and the Sun enforces its activity upon one part, for six hours, and remit's it as many; there must needs be the same generall Periods of its effects, that is, of the Sea's Motion.

10. But, since the Moon, too, may suffice to encrease the wind; and, the nearer 'tis the Sun, the more its power is conjoyned with the Sun's, the farther 'tis from the Sun, the larger and stronger its force is upon the Ocean; who can doubt but the Flux must be encreased twice a Moneth?

11. In like manner, since the Sun is twice a year in the Aequator, in which place, as just in the middle, it most vigorously rayses the wind: every six moneths, too, the Flux must be more eminent; but especially about Autumn, because, between the Tropick of Capricorn and the Aequator, it rains mightily night and day, for three moneths together after the Summer Solstice.

12. But, that the Flux returns every day about an hour later still, 'tis from hence, because the Flux and reflux proceed from opposite causes; whole forces, [Page] before the victory, must needs be but equall, and, by reason of their equality, require a convenient time. Whence, allowing six hours for the flux and as many for the reflux, each must be allowed its intervall; which, in the Thames, (if I well remember) is little more then a quarter of an hour: This space, therefore, thus, four times repeated, in one day, makes somewhat more then an hour.

13. Sometimes too, the winds stop the Flood; insomuch that, without a Miracle, the Flood has three times advanced and been beaten back in the Thames, by the force of an opposite wind. Lastly, it appears why, in some Seas, there's no mention of Flux; as, in the Red, the Euxine, the Meotis, the Caspian and Baltick Seas: ther's the same reason for them all; that they are but little Seas, and have but narrow entrances; that, vast Rivers running into them, their superficies is higher then the Ocean's; that their current into the Ocean is so strong, that the Sea, especially the Mediterranean, whose Flux is not very high upon the Grecian Shore, is not able to repell it.

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LESSON XIV.
Of the Motion of the Earth, and the Causes of it.

1. SInce, therefore, the upper part of the water is continually mov'd towards the West: (and, as, because the water in the middle runs one way, that by the Shore-side must needs run backwards; so also, because the superiour water is hurry'd towards the West,) that which is next under it must needs be driven back to the East, and whatever so adheres to it that there is no cause of separation; that is, which will easilyer be driven towards the East then be separated from the lower water.

2. But, one part of the lower water is not separable from another, unlesse it either ascends into the place of that above it, which another part, supervening, prevents and hinders; or else, unlesse it repells that which is Easternly to it, and that again another, and, in the end, the last, the Shore that's oppos'd against it, which [Page] is incredible and impossible: The whole body, therefore, with the Earth adhering to it, must needs be driven towards the East, unlesse there be some resistance stronger then the impulse.

3. Whereof ther's none in its gravity, because that motion is not contrary to the motion of gravity; and its bignesse even much facilitates the motion: The Earth, therefore, will be mov'd in a Circle, and turn round about its own Centre, because this impulse is made in a Circle.

4. Again, because 'tis almost impossible this impulse should be equall on all sides, and cause a pure rotation about the Centre; there will, of necessity, a Progressive motion be mixt with it.

5. And since, as a body cannot be, but in one place, so neither can it move but in one line: all the motions which Astronomers assign the Earth must, of necessity, compose one line; and, if the lashing or impulse of the under-water advance the Earth in that line, 'twill be an adequate cause of the motion of the Earth.

6. Now, Astronomers teach, that the Earth, continually turning about its own [Page] Centre, runs under the Zodiack; its Axis retaining a certain inclination to the Axis of the Zodiack: wherefore, when we have found out a line, in which the Earth, being thrust on, will observe this motion; the Flux must be imagin'd to move the Earth according to that.

7. Astronomers prove these motions of the Earth: because, otherwise, greater motions of greater bodies must be suppos'd; and those, neither themselves constant, nor proportion'd to the bodies, and, besides, more entangled, both in the Stars and in the Sun it self, as is apparent by its Spots: Which if you say make not up a perfect Astronomicall Demonstration, that Maxime must be renounc'd upon which all Astronomy depends, viz. that the Phenomena (or appearances) are to be solv'd the best way we can.

8. Again; because there follows a variety in the fixed stars, from the diversity of the Earth's position in its Orbis Magnus; when there's once found out a Telescope, of such perfection as to be able to distinguish that variety, we may expect a Geometricall Demonstration: and because, for the same reason, there must needs be a variety of reflection from Mars and Iupiter; when the [Page] laws & rules of light shall be better known, there will not want a Physicall Demonstration.

LESSON XV.
Of the Oppositions against the Motion of the Earth and, of its effects.

1. AStronomers object, that this annuall transferring of the Earth would cause a diversity of elevation in those Stars which are near the Poles, and a variety in the appearing bignesse of those in the Zodiack: which, since we see not follow, neither is there any such thing as this Annuall motion of the Earth.

2. 'Tis answer'd; The vast remoteness of the Fixed Stars renders such variations imperceptible: and, that their distance from us is sufficient to produce this effect, may be collected from the effect it has upon a Telescope; which, though it amplifies so much the Planets and even Saturn himself, yet adds nothing or an insensible matter to the Fixed Stars.

3. Out of this motion of the Earth rises, First, the reason of Night and Day: for, [Page] since, in a determinate time, 'tis roul'd about its Centre, (suppose in about 24 hours), the things that are in the Heavens must needs appear sometimes, and otherwhile disappear, to a determin'd place of the Earth: and, such a variety, in respect of the Sun, makes Day and Night; in respect of the other Stars, a variety not own'd by any common name.

4. Again, by its motion under the Zodiack, it attains various conjunctions with the other Planets.

5. Lastly, in that it carries its Axis turning still towards the same parts of the Heavens, it comes to passe, that the part of the Earth, enlightned by the Sun, possesses sometimes greater sometimes lesser parts of the Parallells, according to which the Diurnall motion proceeds; and, consequently, that the dayes are longer and shorter.

6. Thence, too, is it, that the Sun becomes more perpendicular at one time then another; whence the natures of Winter and Summer are deduc'd, and the varieties of Declinations, Descensions and Twilights.

7. But, that the Winter is shorter then the Summer, proceeds from this, that the [Page] Motion, through the inequality of the bodies rais'd up in the Winter time, is swifter then in the Summer.

8. An effect, too, of the Motion of the Earth is the carrying of the water about with it; but not the Tyde: First, because, if the Earth should stand still, the water would stand still withall;B. 2. Les. 10. N. 1. since, as we have said above, ther's no impetus but from the gravity, and such there would be none in the present case.

9. Again, ther's no cause of the unequall motion of the water; since, ther's the same quality continually in the movable, and not by skips.

10. Again, if the whole water of the Sea were so mov'd, 'twould drown the Mountains: Lastly, the periods of the Earth's motion do not agree with those of the Tyde's.

11. But, that the Flux depends on an extrinsecall Agent, which impells only the Superficies of the Sea, is most evident; by the experiment of a late Diver, that discovers ther's no Flux in the bottom of the Sea.

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LESSON XVI.
Of the Motion of the Aire vvith the Earth; and its effects.

1. OUt of what has been said, 'tis manifestly inferr'd, that the Aire, which clings to the Earth, is roul'd, in the same manner, about or rather with the Earth: For, since, both by the nature of Quantity and the weight of its gravity, it presses towards the Earth, and sticks to and incorporates with it; it cannot, without some greater force interposing, be separated from it: Since, therefore, in it, ther's no resistance against Motion, and onely a resistance against being torn away from the Aire next it, which takes another course; and this resistance is not greater then that against being torn off from the Aire below, and perhaps not so great, (since Aire is so much the lighter the higher it is); Tis evident, it will follow the Earth: Wherefore, to the very confines of the emanations of some Star, that has a different Motion, the whole Aire will be roul'd about with the Earth.

[Page] 2. And, experience also proves it: for, else, the twilight vapours, Comets, and Birds above the highest Mountains would seem hurryed extream swiftly towards the West. Again, 'tis plain, those Clouds of dust, which we call the Sun's spots, fly along with the Sun; and that, the same way, (as appears, because the bright parts are burned still the same way,) notwithstanding they are judged to be a hundred miles distant from the Sun. The vapours, too, of the Moon are found to be carried about with the Moon.

3. From this Motion of the Aire it follows, that bodies in the Aire it self are so moved, in respect to the parts of the Aire and the Earth, as if there were no Motion at all in neither; they being carried still along together with the Aire it self: as, one in a Ship, under saile with a constant wind, exercises the same Motions and with the same facility in the Ship, as he could do if she stood still.

4. Wherefore, Arrows, shot just upright, will fall in the very same place; or, shot towards the East, they'l fly no farther then if shot towards the West: The Motion of the Earth will raise no wind, &c. This, too, will be certain, that the Aire [Page] cannot be carry'd lesse then the Earth; as, one that sits in a Coach cannot rid lesse ground then the Coach it self.

5. Nor can all these be made good by an impetus, conceiv'd upon the Earth, and remaining in the Movable after its separation from the Earth: for, neither could Birds retain that impetus for many hours together, at least, without any notable diminution; and lesse could little bodies, for many dayes: nor could that impetus carry an Arrow as swiftly acrosse, as directly. Besides, as those that swimme against the stream feel the strength of the stream under water; so, one that should move towards the West would feel the Aire to be carry'd towards the East.

6. Much lesse, by the force of its circular motion, will the Earth throw any thing laid upon it into Heaven: For, circular motion has no such property in its own nature; since 'tis still about the Centre, and, by consequence, keeps every thing, according to its own line, in the same distance from the Centre: But, those things we see thrown off from wheels, are so, by reason of their adhesion, and the mixture of a straight motion [Page] with the circular; as also, because the centre of gravity of such thrown bodies is remov'd, from that position wherein it was sustain'd by the body under it.

LESSON XVII.
Of the causes of the Motion of the Moon and other Stars.

1. SInce, supposing this motion of the Earth, the Moon is carry'd with it about the Sun, and keeps alwaies the same side towards it; 'tis fairly convinc'd to have a kind of adhesion to the Earth.

2. Yet, not a Magneticall one, being it changes not its aspect, nor has any declination, for its approaching the Poles; nor, though it hangs loose, does it come to the Earth: 'Tis, therefore, an adhesion of gravity.

3. And, since gravity proceeds from the Motion of things descending towards the Earth; the Moon must be situated [Page] within the Emanations of the Earth, be carry'd about the Centre of the Earth, and about the Sun. But, because it has a propension of its own towards the Earth, it is not carry'd so swiftly as the Emanations themselves; its progresse being, according to Astronomicall observations, but about a 28. part every day.

4. And because, under the Zodiack, ther's a perpetuall tumult of vapours which ascend, and being come up to a certain height, turn off from the Torrid Zone towards the Poles; the motion of the Moon is compounded of a Motion under the Ecliptick and towards the Poles.

5. It is not, therefore, carry'd purely under the Ecliptick: but, because 'tis mov'd in a Sphericall Superficies, and by the shortest line, that is, by a greatest circle; it will cut the Ecliptick twice every intire course of its defects, that is, every moneth.

6. In its Opposition and Conjunction to the Sun, the body of the Moon, that is, the whole complex of its solid and vapours, becomes lesse heavy: In Conjunction, because its nearnesse to the Sun and the Sun's stronger reflection from the Earth raises more Vapours in the Moon: in Opposition, more vapours are rais'd out of its, naturally, colder [Page] part; and in the upper part ther's allways abundance.

7. Wherefore, the Moon, in these positions, must rise higher from the Earth, and, in the Quadratures, that is, about the passages from the first to the second and from the third to the fourth Quarters, appear bigger. But, because that part which looks towards the Earth is allways the heavier, it never turns t'other side towards us.

8. Nor is there any fear least the Moon, falling by reason of its weight, should o'rewhelm the Earth; both because 'tis furnisht with a great deal of fire and vapours lighter then the Emanations of the Earth; as also, because very gravity it self, near the confines of the Earths emanations, is not so powerfull as 'tis here lower.

9. But farther, because 'tis hurry'd about two thousand miles every houre: whence, were it made of solid Iron, it could not fall down; since, we see iron Bullets sustain'd in the Aire, by the power of Guns, though their motion be not two hundred miles an houre.

10. Out of what has been said, we may easily argue concerning the other Great Bodies. For, all those that belong to our [Page] Great Orbe either are mov'd about the Sun, as being certain other Earths: or else about other Stars, as the Moon about the Earth; such as are the Medicean Stars, and the Companions of Saturn.

11. And, because we discover Suns among those other parts of the world; 'tis very credible there are proportionable Planets dispos'd among them, too; and that all those Bodies are mov'd in the manner of ours.

12. The Sun it self must, of necessity, turn about its own centre: else, certainly, since 'tis Fire, 'twould appear divided into Pyramids; and, if it were born along with a progressive motion, 'twould shew a vast train of flames like a Comet.

13. Lastly, since 'tis all full of Caverns belching out flames, and fire flames out according to the nature of its fewell; these flames must of necessity flash out with a fierce impulse against the sides of the Caverns: and, because they have an eminent proportion to the body, they must shake the entire Sun and turn it that way the Motion lyes strongest; which, the Phenomena of its Spots and bright parts testify to be according to the Zodiack.

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LESSON XVIII.
Of the Primum Mobile, the Duration, and Quiddity of the World.

1. BUt, because this fire, which bursts out from the Sun's bowells, is it self mov'd, too: either this Motion, which is the Mother of all other, must spring from it self; or else we must come to an incorporeall Agent.

2. But, that Bodies which rest, how many soever they are, cannot start of themselves into Motion, is most evident: For, being suppos'd to rest, all their intrinsecalls are suppos'd, without that effect which is call'd Motion: Since, therefore, all things remaining the very same in the causes, there cannot be any change in the effect; and yet, supposing Motion, there would be a change; 'tis plain, there cannot any Motion spring out of them, without altering first somewhat in the causes, that is, in the Bodies.

3. Moreover, every part of Motion being a new effect, the same evidence convinces that motion cannot be continu'd, without some Cause be suppos'd continually altering the First Body, on which depend the motions of all the rest.

[Page] 4. Since, therefore, we have pursu'd the Originall of motion into the very bowells of the Sun: we must conclude, that there is a Mover of another nature, viz. an incorporeall, from whom Fire receiv's the power of moving; who, being of an immovable Nature, establishes the Centre of the Sun, that it may be the Fixer and, as it were, Basis of all things rouling about it.

5.Les. 1. n. 1. That Motion cannot be infinite, the same argument convinces which made it plain before, that all Permanent Quantity is finite: For, suppose backwards from this instant or now wherein we are, an infinite Time already past, there must be infinite hours past; some one, therefore, will be infinite others distant from us; and, in that one, a determinate now, which, with this present instant, must enclose an infinite on both sides.

6. Nor, if the computation be made forwards, will the reason differ: for, there must still be infinite hours to come; and one of them will be infinite others distant from us; and, in that one, a certain now terminating an infinite, which is impossible, whereas yet, what is future is, in that very respect, possible.

7. The World, therefore, is neither [Page] from nor to eternity: because, the world includes the motion of bodies passing on in a determinate order, and, as it were, consists in this. 'Twas, therefore, created; but, not for it self: for, if it could have deserv'd to be made for its own beauties sake; upon the same title, it would endure for ever. It rests, therefore, that 'twas made for something else; which cannot be successive, since the same evidence, with which we have disputed about motion,N. 5. 6. convinces that no successive thing can be eternall. The World, therefore, is made for some permanent thing: but, there's nothing permanent found in Nature, except the Rationall soul, for whose sake the world could exist: Spirits, therefore, born in bodies and perfected in them, (not such as are purely abstracted from body, who have no use of corporeall instruments) are the End for which the world was made.

8. And, the world is nothing but a kind of vast wombe, in which these Spirits may be begotten and brought up; which has so many Cells as there are severall Races of these Spirits. Our Cell is the Earth we inhabit: the Cells of the rest are those masses of the Celestiall bodies; except the Solar ones, which are the basest of all the [Page] rest, and, as far as we can guesse, only ministeriall.

9. The Quantity of the world, both for its Extension and Duration, is such as may fitly serve for the breeding up so many differences of Spirits: providing the Cells, according to the severall kinds; and giving every Cell the bignesse and duration which was sufficient for the number the Architect design'd.

10. The Figure of the world is not rendred uneven, either with hollownesses or jettings out; since, the notion of Vacuum excludes both these: Wherefore, 'tis either Sphericall, or of some other Curvilineall figure, which, most concisely, covers and encompasses so many and such great Cells.

11. The exteriour rimme of it is not compos'd of any solid body, but of thinnest Vapours exhal'd out of the outmost bodies: unlesse, perhaps, there be reserv'd in nature some farther use of the Outmost body, which we know not of.

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Peripateticall INSTITUTIONS. Fourth Book.
Containing that part of METAPHYSICK, which explicates the Essentiall Notions of BODIES.

LESSON I.
Of the divisibility of Substance, into Formall parts.

1.SInce water is,B. 2. Les. 2. N. 2. manifestly, lesse divisible then Aire; and yet they are but one, Quantitatively: if they are more then one according to their Substance, there must, of necessity, be a reall composition of Quantity to Substance; since Unity and Plurality are not distinct from the thing whose they are.

[Page] 2. But, if they are not two Substances; since there cannot be a different proportion of the same thing to it fels, & yet the proportion of Quantity to the Substance in Aire is greater then in Water; it must needs be, again, that ther's a reall composition of Quantity to Substance and, therefore, a Divisibility.

3. Whence, tis inferr'd, that Substance, as tis condistinct from Quantity, is indivisible; since Quantity is divisibility.

4. As also, that the Notions of Rarity and Density consist in the proportion of the Quantity to the Substance whose it is: since rare bodies are more and dense less divisible.

5. You'l object, Such as are one in Quantity are one in Substance,B. 2. less. 1. N. 4. too: But, the whole world is one in Quantity; & that rigorously, since, there are no Parts actually in a Magnitude: Therefore, either Quantity is a distinct thing from Substance, or else all Bodily Substance will be but one thing, really and materially, whatever may be imagined of an Intellectuall distinction between them.

6. Tis answered, 'Tis a false assumption, to say, those things which are one in Quantity [Page] are one in their Substances, too. To that which is objected, That all things would be really and materially one; Tis answer'd, Either 'tis but the same which we call to be One quantitatively, and then 'twould be shew'd what inconvenience would follow, that consequence being admitted: or else, that term, really and materially, would be explicated; for the Arguers seem to insinuate that it signifies, abstracting from our Notions, that is, they would be one in no kind of unity whereof we have any Notion.

7. All things, therefore, according to that unity which follows the notion of Quantity, (and that is accidentall,) are one: but, according to their Substances, and that unity which follows the notion of Substance, they are many.

8. It follows, from what has been said, As oft as any division is made, the Substance it self is chang'd, which is subjected to the Quantity, according to the intrinsecalls of Substance, as 'tis condistinguish't against Quantity: For, Division being that whereby more are made of one; and, they not being made more according to the proper unity of Quantity; this plurality must, of necessity, be in the Substance as [Page] 'tis condistinguish't against Quantity; wherefore, the Unity, too, which is destroy'd, was in the Substance, as condistinguish't from the Quantity: since, therefore, Vnity superadds nothing to Entity, but a negative notion of indivision; it comes to passe, that a change cannot be made in the unity without a change in the Entity, and consequently, that the Entity is chang'd.

9. But, the Entity is not so chang'd, that two Entities should be made out of nothing; but out of one that existed before: otherwise, there would not have been made a division. There was, therefore, a power or possibility in the Substance, to be many; as, in many, ther's a possibility to be made one again.

10. The Substance, therefore, is chang'd, in some respect; and remains in the many, according to some part of its power: wherefore, 'tis divided according to its own proprieties; and, there is, in Substances, divisible according to Quantity, another proper divisibility, into the Power by which it can be what it is, and the Act by which it is what it is; or, into the Matter remaining and the Form chang'd.

11. Yet, the parts of the Substance, [Page] and the Quantity it self with the Substance against which 'tis condivided, are not actually in their compounds, before division: for, 'tis plain that, if they are in act, one of them, before division, is not another; they are, therefore, many, nor can be divided, that is, made many.

12. Out of what has been said, 'tis evident, that this Formall divisibility has not the true nature of divisibility, that is, 'tis lesse then the divisibility of a Magnitude into its parts: For, a Magnitude is divided into parts, whereof every one exists after the division, by their proper existences; but, one, at least of these parts exists no longer, and that which remains exists, not alone, but commonly with some other, instead of the part it has lost.

LESSON II.
Of the Formall parts of Substance, in particular.

1. HEnce it follows that, because a change, according to the parts of the Substance, changes the Substance it self; the parts are parts of [Page] the Substance, as it is such: wherefore, neither part is a Substance; since a part cannot be the whole: But, to be a Substance is, To have a nature capable of existence: therefore, neither part, separately, is, by its nature, capable of a Being: and, any Agent to give a Being to either part, separately, must first change its nature, that it may be capable of Being; for, to exist, cannot agree to that, in which there is not a power of receiving existence.

2. And, after the same manner, must it be said of Quantity and all other Accidents, whose notion is wholy without, and not comprehended in the notion of Substance; and consequently, their notion is lesse fit and apt for existence.

3. You'l say, if these things are true, it implyes a contradiction that any Accident should exist out of its own Subject; the contrary whereof is a matter of Faith.

4. 'Tis answer'd, ther's neither Authority nor Demonstration, in Theologie, which convinces that an Accident may be preserv'd out of a Subject; as, 'tis plain, to those that look more attentively into it.

5. But, on the contrary, 'tis evident a [Page] Whole cannot be, without its Parts in potentiâ or power, therefore a Substance cannot be without Quantity, which is its parts in potentiâ; nor can a Magnitude be, without its Quantity's having a determinate proportion to its Substance, that is, without Rarity and Density; again, Rare and Dense diversly mingled, import all the rest of Corporeall Qualityes: 'Tis evident, therefore, that Accidents cannot be without a Substance.

6. Farther, 'tis plain, the division of Substance is into a pure Power and a substantiall Form, or, that which makes it be a Substance: For, since, by the division of a Substance into its parts, the Substance is chang'd; it must needs be, that the Part which is lost gives the being a Substance to the Whole, since, that being withdrawn, the notion of Substance is taken away; and that the remaining Part is a pure Power; for, since 'tis a power to the notion that's chang'd, and that is the first of all others, 'tis clear, in the remaining part ther's no notion, and therefore, that 'tis a pure Power or possibility.

7. Whence, again, 'tis clear, ther's a greater unity of the parts of a Substance, then of Substance to Quantity: since, [Page] Quantity and Substance are, intellectually, distinct; but, of the Matter and Form of compounds, ther's but one only notion together.

8. You'l say, 'Tis impossible to conceive that Matter, of it self, has no notion; for, it would not be cognoscible. 'Tis answer'd; Since, to be capable of being something neither is, in that kind whereof 'tis capable of being, nor yet is wholly estranged from that kind: so, that which is a capacity to the first kind, that is, to Substance and Being, neither has it that first notion, and yet 'tis not altogether estranged from it; but, 'tis a certain degree to participate Being it self, by the mediation of another.

9. Now the ratio or notion in a thing is That, by which its nature is fitted to the Understanding, or the Understandablenesse of a thing, or the quiddity, the whatnesse and, consequently, that, whereby a thing is made to Be: The Form, therefore, primarily, is the Cause, or the whereby the Being is had.

10. Whence, 'tis evidenc'd, there cannot be more Substantiall Forms, in the same Thing: nor subordinate ones; because, since the first Form gives the Being, [Page] the second must needs be adventitious to what has a Being, and not give it, but be an Accident: nor coordinate ones; since they have each their own notions and, consequently, constitute more Beings.

11. 'Tis plain, too, that the Matter has a Being through the Form, and cannot be sustain'd otherwise then by the Form; since, of it self, it has not a capacity to Be.

LESSON III.
Of the Vnity and distinction of Bodies in common.

1. IT follows, from what has been said, that there is some plurality of Forms in nature, before all Division: For, since Division is made, by the interposition of one body, between the sides or parts of another, there must necessarily be, before division, a body to be the Divider and another that may be Divided; which, being they are not more then one, through any former division, (since, this is suppos'd to be the first,) this plurality must of necessity proceed out of the very nature and notion of the Things.

[Page] 2. And, since Essence is nothing but that whereby a Thing is; such Things must be, essentially, distinct: Since, therefore, to divide belongs to dense, to be divided to rare; those things that are naturally rare and dense must be essentially distinct.

3. Since, therefore, such things are transmutable among themselves, and adequately divide the Universe; the Matter of rare and dense things must be the same, and consequently, that of the whole Universe.

4. The same is deduc'd out of the very notion of Matter; which, being a power to the notion of a Thing, is also a power or possibility to the notion of One: since, therefore, a Multitude consists but of Unities; before unity, neither distinction nor multitude can be understood: There can, therefore, be no multiplicity of matter; wherefore, that of all nature is but One.

5. Hence, then, those Questions are superfluous, Whether one Form can be the same in divers Matters? and again, Whether many Forms in one Matter? Since, if it be ask'd, of the proper unity of Matter, that of all Forms is the same; if, [Page] of the individuall unity, that the matter attains by its conjunction with a Form, as it does its very Being.

6. From what has been said, 'tis clear, that every body, that is, every Compound of act and power is a Magnitude: For, since ther's but one possible First matter, and that subject to Quantity; the Compounds of it, too, must of necessity be subject to Quantity.

7. Hence, again, it follows, that no body moves, unlesse, in some manner, it be chang'd first: For since a Bulk excludes another out of its place, by this, that it intrudes it self into the other's place, because two cannot be together in the same place; unlesse it become greater then its own place or leave it, it cannot exclude another: 'Tis manifest, therefore, that it must be altered first, according to one of these mutations, if it become a Mover of another.

8. Hence, again, 'tis collected that a Body is, essentially, an Instrument: For, since a Body has two properties, to be mov'd and to move; and, to be mov'd appertains to it, out of its power and the notion of Matter; 'tis clear, the essentiall notion of it is to be taken from its vertue of [Page] moving, by which it expresses act, and which follows the nature of a body in respect as it actually is: Since, therefore▪ a body does not move, but in as much as 'tis mov'd; clearly, according to its essentiall notion, 'tis an Instrument of its mover or applyer.

9. A BODY, therefore, is a Thing in Nature, or, A certain part of the Vniverse; provided by the Authour of Nature, to produce a certain determinate Motion, when 'tis apply'd.

10. Whence, three notions, or manners of defining a naturall Ens or Thing, are discover'd: A Metaphysicall one, which is deduc'd adequately under the notion of Being, and 'tis, A thing which has an existence spread into many potentiall parts, that is, a Thing in or of such parts: A Naturall or Physicall one, which, by Sensible Qualities, expounds the notion of those parts and, consequently, of the Thing: And lastly, a Morall one, as it were, which collects the same from the End, that is, from the quality of its Motion; for, the Metaphysicall notion, properly, regards only its capacity of Existence.

11. And, he that has any one of these three notions, even by that, has all: for, the Sensible Qualities impart both a [Page] capacity of Existence and a power for Action.

12. Whence, too, it appears, that one Body can have but one primary Operation: for, since the sensible qualities give both the power of working and the capacity of existence, and they, in the same part of Matter, are the same; either they conspire to one operation, or not: if not, neither will it be one body, but many: if they conspire, there is, then, one primary operation of such a body; which could not be produc'd, either by another disposition, nor together with any other disposition then that. A naturall Body, therefore, is that One Thing whose Operation is One.

LESSON IV.
Of the essentiall unity and distinction of the Elements and mixt bodies.

1.Les. 3. n. 4. SInce 'tis said above, that ther's but one possible Substantiall Matter, and Quantity is known to be infinite in power; [Page] the power of Matter, too, to Quantity must needs be infinite: Since, therefore, actually, Quantity is but finite; the Composit or compound must needs be, in some measure, dense.

2. And, if whole Nature were uniform, it must be establisht in a certain degree of Density and Rarity, springing from the proportion of Matter to this Quantity: but, the speciall and particular bodies which are in the Universe, as it is now framed, participate, out of this universall proportion, some more some lesse of Density and Rarity.

3. Since, therefore, the notions of Density and Rarity are the first differences of Magnitudes: those bodies, which first and least of all exceed the nature of Body in common, will be distinguish't by these differences, that some exist in denser parts, others in rarer; which, in our Physicks, we have said, are the Elements.

4. Since, therefore, the operations of rare and dense bodies, as such, are to divide and be divided; and this last is passion, out of which the essentiall notion is not deduc'd; it comes to passe, that all the Elements receive their differences, according to their power of dividing: and [Page] since, to divide is a kind of simple action; they are distinguish't by no other differences then of more and lesse, that is, of velocity and slownesse.

5. Among the Elements, therefore, those which are fram'd by nature to divide more swiftly must be more perfect; and those are they which are more subtile: wherefore, since the greatest force of dividing agrees to Fire, that must be the noblest; next to which must be Aire, then Water, then Earth.

6. Which last, though, by its Bulk and density, it may seem more apt to divide, and has, as it were, in the first place, the nature of divisive: yet, by reason of the grossenesse of its parts, in naturall action, it can doe the very least of them all; and consequently, 'tis the vilest and most beggarly Instrument.

7. It appears farther that, since a body is, essentially, an Instrument for a determinate motion; and there must needs be some least degree of rarity and density; and the littlenesse in bulk hinders both the divisive power and divisibility: there may be suppos'd, in every Element, parts so little, that, according to the order of the Universe, they may neither have a capacity [Page] of dividing others, nor of being divided by others; and so, there may not be in them the essentiall notion of an Element, nor of any other naturall body.

8. Again, since all bodies are Conjoin'd;B. 2. les. 2. n. 7. it appears, that such minutest particles never exist, but in composition with others: nay, when ever two or more Elements are joyn'd, it must needs be that their extremes may be suppos'd in so little a quantity, that one cannot operate without the other.

9. There must needs, therefore, in nature, out of the pure conjunction of the Elements, be a notion of a certain body, whose parts cannot act at all separately, but, in conjunction they may: that is, some body essentially distinct from the Elements, and yet, made out of their conjunction; that is, a body whose essence is to be a Mixtum or mixt body.

10. But, since, in bodies, universally, Unity and Magnitude are consider'd: 'tis plain, the differences of those bodies are collected out of three respects; the specificall difference of the Elements, that is, the degrees of Density and Rarity; the [Page] Multitude of parts of the same notion; and their Bulk.

11. A Mixtum, therefore, is a body of certain parts, of divers degrees of rarity and density, in a certain number and bulk compacted among themselves, ordain'd by nature for a determinate Motion. Moreover, 'tis evident, that the qualities of the Elements exist refracted and mutually abated in mixt bodies; since, the very least must needs simply differ in degrees of rare and dense, and these degrees, by reason of the composition, must needs hinder one another.

12. And yet, that no substantiall Form of any Element is found in a Mixtum: since, a Form constitutes a Thing, and a Thing is ordain'd for Motion; but, Motion is of the whole, not of the severall parts.

13. Out of what has been said, 'tis evident, that the operation of a Mixtum is a certain Division qualifi'd by the nature of the parts of the Mixtum: which nature, the better 'tis, that is, the more serviceable for the best works of nature, so much the nobler is the Mixtum, essentially.

14. Again, if the whole mixture of the Elements be shut up into so little a part, that one part cannot, separated from another, [Page] have its proper effect; then the Mixtum is simply one and primely mixt: but, if the mixture be extended so amply, that many parts may act, asunder, according to the divers parts of the temperament; then, 'tis not a Mixtum, but a Demixtum or Decompositum, that is, one made up of many Mixtum's; as we see in Metalls and other Mines, as Coal, &c. where many Mixtum's are joyn'd together, which are apt to be separated by fire or other artifice.

LESSON V.
Of the Essence of Animals, and of the Soul.

1. BUt because, among Mixtum's, some are solid and consistent, others fluid; and of these, by the course of nature, the conditions and temperaments are different and, in some sort, opposite: there must, of necessity, out of the conjunction of these, rise a middle temper, which cannot but be fit for some certain motions.

2. And, because all things, with us [Page] here, are beset with heat; the solid parts cannot be kept moist, that is, mixt throughly with actuall moisture, unlesse there be some continuall cause or Fountain, out of which the moisture, so consumable and subject to be wasted by the power of heat, may be perpetually supply'd.

3. Now, that Fountain may be suppos'd within and intrinsecall to the Mixtum, or else conjoyn'd, that is, in a body joyn'd to it: But, if it be this later way, 'tis plain, that watred Mixtum is not, of its mere self, constantly what it is, but through its situation or conjunction to another, from which, if it be separated, it perishes.

4. But, that which is watred the former way has, within it self, what is necessary to keep it still a constant Instrument in nature, of that operation which 'tis fram'd to undertake: and, consequently, it has one Form, from that one Operation 'tis ordain'd to, and that one Order of parts conform'd to such an operation.

5. And, because we find these in all and only Animals: an Animal is evidently counted to be One naturall Thing having one Form.

6. You'l say, if the severall similary [Page] parts of an Animal, subsisting in their proper forms, were connected; they'd have the same effect as they have now in the Animal: ther's no need, therefore, of the particular form of an Animal.

7. 'Tis answer'd, Ther's no particular nature in any similary part of an Animal, which is common to that part alive and dead, as if there could be some form, as it were, indifferent; but, the nature of a living part is contrary to the nature of a dead part: Now, naturall Things are naturall parts of the world, unerringly flowing from the ESSENTIFICALL IDEA'S; and, therefore, they receive essentiall notions, according to the Order they have in the Universe.

8. But, because the parts of an Animal are so fram'd, that one should water, that is, alter or move another; 'tis plain that, of necessity, they must be of severall conditions and figures: wherefore, the complex of them is an Organicall bodie, having within it self Life, that is, a power of moving it self; and, its Form is the Act of such a body, that is, a Soul.

9. But, since the notion of a Soul requires that the parts of its subject, whose orm it is, be some Movers others Moved; [Page] 'tis clear, that it does not inform each of the parts, or, is not in every part, as 'tis usually said, and as it happens in Elementary forms; but, that 'tis only in the whole and, immediately, the Form of the Whole.

10. Notwithstanding, the parts have not, therefore, partiall or particular Forms: because they are not actually in the whole, nor have, actually, any nature by which they could subsist out of the whole; as appears, in that, being but divided, they presently die.

11. Hence, 'tis collected, wherein consists the Metaphysicall notion of an Animal: viz. that, 'Tis a Thing of many parts, order'd among themselves, as to Action; that is, whereof some are active upon others, and the rest are passive from them.

12. To which the Morall definition adjoyn's, that 'Tis an Instrument for Action, that is, for that operation or motion to which they apply themselves; such as is locall motion, which all participate.

13. And, the Physicall definition considers that many Mixtum's are contain'd in an Animal, as also Organicall parts, that is, parts woven and compos'd of many Mixtum's; and so conjoin'd, that the libertie of each is not taken away, but that they are active upon [Page] one another, as if they were distinct Things.

14. And, since, from the presence of an Object, an impression is made upon an Animall; whence it begins to act about that which is without, so as is convenient for the nature it self of the Animall; yet, this impression is, such as makes no sensible change in the Animall: we apprehend the Object to be in the Animall, as neither perfecting nor hurting it, but indifferently, and purely As another thing; and this we call Knowing: and, that the Animall operates out of it self, as it were, what is convenient for it, supposing this knowledge; and this we call working out of knowledge.

15. Again, because it appears, by our Physicks, that the proper motions of an Animall derive their Origin from the Heart, which directs the Spirits into the nerves that are necessary for all kinds of motion; and that this Impulse is call'd Passion; moreover, that all Passions depend and emerge from LOVE and, in an Animall rightly dispos'd, are subject and conformable to love: It follows, that Its prime Love, or, the prosecution of its chiefly beloved is that Passion or Motion or Action, to which the fabrick and compagination [Page] of an Animall is immediately order'd; and consequently, that Animals, by these, excell one another.

16. Now, the prime pursuit of an Animall is after Food; and Food is what is conformable to the quality of a body, and preserves and causes a right disposition: Since, therefore, an Animall agrees with other bodies in being an Instrument, to be apply'd by another, and an Instrument is, in so much, more perfect, as it can perform, more easily and more efficaciously, more or more Noble works; that Animall will be better then the rest, which is more easily applyable, and to more things: for commonly, the more noble operation consists of the more parts, and what's apply'd more easily operates more efficaciously.

17. The Food, therefore, of that Animall is best, which renders it of a calm Fancy and of an Appetite the most indifferent; which, commonly, follow one another: and, that Animall is the best, which is primarily affected to such Food.

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LESSON VI.
Of the Chief Animal and the essentiall distinction of Bodies.

1. OUt of what has been said, it may be convinc'd, if some Animal can be apply'd to one or more determinate operations, and another to whatever, without any term or limitation; this later kind has so great an eminency above the former, that they are not of the same Order: wherefore, It will be the noblest, and something above the Order of the rest.

2. 'Tis plain, too, that nothing greater can be imagin'd, in the notion of an Animal; no, nor of a Body: For, if a Bodie be an Instrument applyable to a determinate action, an Instrument to all extends to both the noblest and the most: Wherefore, nothing can be conceiv'd higher in the notion either of a Body or an Animall.

3. Since, therefore, in our Physicks, B. 2. les. 24. n. 6. it appears, that a Man, even in his Body, is provided [Page] to do any thing whatever; 'tis plain, that a Man is the prime both of Bodies and Animals; and something beyond them.

4. It appears out of what has been said, that there cannot be any other differences of Bodies, which are not comprehended in the fore-mentioned. For, the Elements, differing in Rarity and Density, divide Body, precisely, as it speaks Quantity united to Substance: The nature of Mixtum's, which consist in the Number and Proportion of rare and dense bodies, follows that divisibility of quantity, whereby bodies have number and proportion: And, the Site and Order of Parts we chiefly see in Animals, whose members can act one upon another: Lastly, the Infinitude of Quantity shew's it self in Man, in that he is ordinable, after a sort, to infinite things.

5. Again, since Quantity is divisibility into parts, those are distinct either in Number, as it were, and Site only; and bodies divisible into such parts are the Elements: or, they differ in Nature; and such are the parts of Mixtum's: or, lastly, they are parts which, in the Thing it self, are, as it were, certain Things exercising their own proper operations; such are the Members of Animals; the complex of which, if it makes a [Page] body orderable to all possible Action, it constitutes a Man.

6. Again, the division which a body makes is, either simply dividing more and lesse; and, by this, the Elements are distinguish't: or, 'tis a modify'd division, by which certain bodies, with a certain qualification, are distinguish't; and this is the proper division of Mixt bodies, by which their so many effects are produc'd: or 'tis an abstractive division, that is, which, of it self, has no effect, but is a way and instrument to another division; and such is the motion of Animals; which, if it be in a certain determinate manner and number, constitutes the other Animals, if indeterminately and with infinite variety, belongs to Man.

7. And, that these differences are essentiall, appears from hence, that they, of themselves, divide and include the notion and end of a Thing consisting of parts, that is, of Body or bodily Substance; as cloven-footednesse includes pedality, and the being divided into three or four Toes includes cloven-footednesse: for, no difference, of any of these above-mentioned kinds, can be understood without the notion of a Thing consisting of parts; nor, be apapply'd [Page] to any other common notion, unlesse accidentally.

8. Nor, is it lesse apparent, that these essentiall differences are the very Accidents, that is, the very complexion or clinging together of rare and dense parts: which is call'd Substantiall or essentiall, in as much as it furnishes the body for its prime and chief operation; and as, saving the order to the chief operation, 'tis mutable, so far 'tis some of the Accidents: For, since the parts are not actually in a formall Compound; 'tis clear, that whatever is in the Compound cannot be this and that, severall and distinct Things.

9. A transmutation, therefore, is accidentall only or more then accidentall, in as much as 'tis greater or lesse, or, as it extends to severall notions.

10. Hence, again, 'tis evident, that Genericall unity, though it be founded in nature (as appears out of what has been said): yet 'tis not truly any other then Mentall (that is, by being in the understanding) as to the effect of unity; though the similitude in which 'tis founded be reall.

11. And that the ultimate essentiall unity, which they term Specificall, and imagine [Page] common, is no other then the very Individuall unity: For, since all difference consists of the collection of rare and dense, and all operation follows the same differences in the very instant of the birth or first being of every thing, when the Individuation is determin'd; it must needs be, that whatever Accidents there are, in the thing once made, either fit or avert it from the primary operation, to which 'tis ordain'd: Since, therefore, every change in the Form makes an essentiall difference, and all variety in respect of the primary operation is a change in the Form, 'tis plain that every Accident concurs to an essentiall change; and (which was intended) that Numericall difference, which is the ultimate and compleat proportion of a Thing to its operation, is essentiall.

12. Wherefore, since, from the highest ratio or notion of a Thing consisting of parts, one may descend, by numberlesse degrees, to whatever Individuall; Genericall degrees will be without any known number, but the specificall will be no other then that of an Individuum.

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LESSON VII.
Of the mutation of the Individuality in the severall kinds of Bodies.

1. ANd, hence, 'tis evident that, a Thing being chang'd but accidentally, the Individuality is not chang'd; because that's taken directly under the notion of Thing or Body; which is the last that's destroy'd in the thing, as 'tis the last that's made.

2. For, since change is made by locall motion, and that's divisible without end; if, upon every accidentall variation, the Substance should be chang'd, substantiall transmutation would be continually successive, and would not subsist but in motion, that is, so, that one part would not be whilst another is; and consequently, the notion of a Substance would never be nor its Being be Indivisible; nor would there be any Thing by whose mediation Accidents might subsist; to conclude, there would be nothing in Nature, the constancy [Page] and firmnesse of Substance being once taken away.

3. Among the Elements 'tis plain, the Notion of the Individuum is chang'd by mere division; so that, any whatever least particle being taken away or added, the notion of the Individuum is chang'd: But, the quality of Rarity or Density being chang'd, the notion of the Individuum is not, therefore, altered.

4. For, since the mutation according to Rarity and Density is a continuall one, that is, divisible without end; there would be an infinite succession of Individuums: But, it appears to the Considerer, that it happens not so in division; whose Motion though it be continuall, yet the being divided follows indivisibly. Besides, if, both by division and change of rarity, the quidditative notion of an Element should be varied, there would be no accidentall change in the Elements.

5. Of Mixtums, the manner is partly the same, partly different: for, if a dissolution intervene between the heterogeneall parts which essentially constitute a Mixtum, there will be a change, not of the Individuum, but of the Genericall notion; but, if any parts of the same temperament be either [Page] added or taken away, the Individuall notion is accounted chang'd.

6. But, the Unity of an Animal is not prejudic'd by the withdrawing of neither similary nor dissimilary parts; but only of those, wherein the prime force of its Instrumentality precisely consists: and, that being maim'd, it suffers a Genericall change.

7. For, since the divisibility of the Elements is, precisely, into the parts of a Magnitude; out of that division, by the course of nature, a variation in the Substances must necessarily follow.

8. As also, since the composition of Animals clearly aym's, by a certain Way, at a certain End; a substantiall variatio in them must only depend upon the change of the adequate complexion necessary to the End of the composition.

9. Lastly, Mixtums; since their notion is constituted betwixt both these; as 'tis aggregated of similary parts and has a conformity with the Elements, so far, it follows, they must be subject to their way of change; but, as 'tis compounded of dissimilar parts, yet cohering in Proportion not Order, so far 'tis chang'd by the change of the Proportion [Page] without any respect to the Order.

10. You'l object; Since every Accident concurs to the designation of the Substance; upon any Accident's being chang'd, the ultimate substantiall difference must be altered: especially, since a Substance is defin'd to be nothing but A certain Resultance from Accidents.

11. 'Tis answer'd, that, as, 'tis evident, Plurality is, so, nothing else but division ended, as, notwithstanding, not every part of the division changes Unity, but only the Figure: so, it happens in Rarefaction, that 'tis indeed the production of a new Element, when 'tis perfected; yet, every part of rarefaction does not partially change the Substance of an Element.

12. Now, rarefaction and condensation is perfected, when 'tis become such, that the former degree cannot be restor'd to the Thing that's rarifi'd or condens'd, out of the precise nature of Common causes; but ther's need of a speciall cause for this effect: for, 'tis plain, that, otherwise, it is not, in respect of the world, a new Thing or part; since, by the very common constitution of the world, 'twill return to its former nature.

13. Much more, in the destruction of [Page] an Animal, every alteration is, so, a way to its destruction, as, notwithstanding, every part does not partially change the very Substance of the Animal.

14. Hence, 'tis collected, how ther's made an Augmentation of the same numericall Animal, through the whole course of its life; and how, many of its members being cut off, the same still numericall Animal remains: For, it being said, that the Substantiall notion of an Animal is to be rated from its prime Passion, and that That is the Love of Food, that is, of preserving it self; moreover, that an Animal being once made, the identity is not chang'd, unlesse the quality of its first operation be chang'd, according to the order of nature; it follows, that an Animal is not chang'd substantially, as long as the love of preserving it self remains in it.

15. But, the cutting off of members, clearly, does not take away this disposition; and, the change which is made by the digesting Food into it self is mean't to continue the Animal: 'tis clear, therefore, neither of these destroy the bounds of nature, which, we have said, are the Ends and determiners of Substance; & consequently, the nature of Individuation remains firm.

[Page] 16. Now, why an Animal, remaining the same in Substance, should not be rarefi'd although more quantity come to it: the reason is plain; because, the Substance of an Animal is, of it self, indifferent to many Magnitudes, that is, to be lesse and bigger, and that which it receives is deriv'd to it by the destruction of other bodies; so that materia prima (which is a capacity of quantity) has that comparison to the augmented Animal, that is, is a Capacity of as much quantity in the Animal, as it was before in many Things: whence, it comes to passe, that in the Animal, the quantity and substance retain the same proportion to the Standard or universall substance, which before they had to it in the Animal and its food.

17. It appears, again, out of what has been said, how the Suppositum may be said to have more in it then the Nature; though these are, indeed, one and the very same thing: For, the Nature speaks the complexion of Accidents, precisely as 'tis a complexion; and so makes an Instrument of the operation intended by nature: and the notion of this is one and determind; and ther's nothing in it but essentially and formally.

[Page] 18. But, the Suppositum is the thing which the Nature constitutes: whence, because it so explicates the nature, as that, besides, it includes confusedly other notions; as also, because the nature is a complexion of many, the natures of every one must needs be conjoyn'd with this Nature or Substance: it comes to passe, that all the Accidents, according to their particular natures, are in the Suppositum; and consequently, that there is more in the Suppositum, then in the Nature.

LESSON VIII.
Of the proper Action of the Chief Animal.

1. IT appears, farther, that, since an Animal is governd by Passion; and Passion rises from goods or ills to Nature, that is, those things which are conformable or dissonant to nature: Man, if he be applyable to all things, that is, prompt to embrace any ill of nature, or fly any good; must of necessity have such a faculty in him, that, in his Brain, ills of nature greater then any such good may [Page] be joyn'd to the good which he is to eschue, and likewise greater goods to the ill he is to embrace; that, so, he may, by the applyer, be impell'd to his destin'd actions.

2. These goods, therefore, with ills, and contrariwise, since they are not conjoyn'd in the things themselves, and yet must appear to him conjoyn'd, and this not by mistake but by the design of nature; 'tis plain, there is in the Man a faculty whereby it may appear to him that those goods are conjoyn'd with the ills, and that he from that appearance is mov'd; and not because the appearances are naturally conjoyn'd (as, peradventure, 'tis in Beasts), which, not having any conjunction from a conjunction of the objects in nature, (as, future or past things), cannot from such conjunction, that is, by force of nature, have a power of moving through conjunction.

3. And, since this conjunction moves a man, not as being a manner of the knowledge of things, but because 'tis the thing known; the other conditions, too, of Things and chiefly their very Existence must be, so, in a man and, so, move him: The objects, therefore, as existing, that is, [Page] Existence as Existence must be known by a man.

4. And, because existence, by its own Form and its very being existence, excludes non-existence; he that knows a thing exists knows that it does not not-exist, or (which is as much) that what exists, whilst it does so, cannot not-exist. Man, therefore, has a foundation whereby he may be certify'd of all Truth, viz. that The same cannot be and not-be, at once.

5. Since, therefore, then we are judg'd to understand, when we know a thing is and cannot be otherwise; a Man, certainly, is to be call'd an Vnderstanding Creature.

6. Again, since our knowledge rises from our Senses, & our Senses, sometimes, are so imperfectly mov'd by the Objects, that, though we perceive ther's something, yet we know not its quality, (for example, we see a body, which we know not whether it be alive or dead; or, we discern it moves it self, but doubt what kind of Animal 'tis): 'tis evident, we know some one thing, of more like to one another which we are acquainted with, to be, without distinguishing the individuality, that is, we have an universall notion which is indifferent to many.

[Page] 7. And, compounding these former with this farther Consideration, that 'Tis the same thing to know One thing is another, & to know that Those things, which are the same with a third, are the same between themselves: 'tis plain that a Man is Discoursive; and that his knowledge is deriv'd from those things, whereof he's certain, to something, whereof he was not certain, but is rendred certain by the very derivation.

8. And because, of those things which are unknown, either part is indifferent to the Understanding, and the Understanding is undetermin'd concerning them: it follows, that a Man, by this Discourse, of undetermin'd, is rendred determin'd; and, because the Principles of determination are in himself, it comes to passe that a Man determines himself and moves himself.

9. Again, since, 'tis clear, that one part of a Man is affected from another part, as from a sensible object; for example, One hand Feels the other or whatever other exteriour part of the Body; in like manner, we are sensible of our selves by Smell, Hearing, and Sight: it follows, that a Man can think and discourse of himself and, consequently, of his actions; and, by consequence, that he can determine himself to [Page] act or not-act, the understanding descending by discourse to the good or illnesse of the action he is about to doe.

10. A Man, therefore, moves himself to act and is Master of his action, and, out of the notion of good and ill, differently disposes his action; which we use to call being Free: a Man, therefore, is Free.

11. You'l object, that liberty, according to the common notion of men, consists in this, that, Supposing all things requisite for action, yet a Man can, out of an intrinsecall faculty, immediately will to act or not-act. 'Tis answer'd, This is not the notion of the vulgar; which holds to act and not-act for the notion of liberty, without that addition of supposing all things requisite besides the action it self: nor is it the notion of the Learned, that have sought in Nature it self, how the notion of the vulgar should be explicated.

12. But 'tis an errour in Metaphysick, in as much as it supposes an indifferent, as indifferent, to act; and that to be in Effect which never was in Cause, that is, an effect to be without a cause.

13. Again, 'tis erroneous in Morall Science: for the Notion of Vertue would be taken away; whose nature 'tis to incline [Page] to will actually, so that, a more vertuous person is more determin'd to will just things then a lesse vertuous.

14. Perswasion, too, and Negotiation would be taken away: for, if the determination of the will should proceed not out of the preceding causes, in vain would be the endeavours of drawing men to follow one thing more then another.

15. Out of what has been said, it may be determin'd, that Man, by force of his Intellective vertue, consider'd in it self, is capable of infinite Science: For, since, whatever is added is still a degree and disposition in the Man to farther Science 'tis apparent, the understanding is not burden'd but rendred more capable by former Science: Wherefore, since Science, for its part, may, by addition, encrease without end, and is only restrain'd by uninfinitenesse of the number of the Objects, it must needs be that Man is capable of comprehending all, that is, infinite Science, together and at once; that is, he is of a capacity absolutely infinite, in respect of bodies; comprehending infinite of them, as a Superficies comprehends infinite Lines, and a Line infinite Points.

16. Again, since, among knowable [Page] things, those are contain'd, too, which are to be done by a Man; to this, also, humane Science extends, even to know what's to be done. And, since Science is an active Principle, a Man, by Science, will be enabled to direct his actions; that is, to govern his life; and this most perfectly, because he is enabled to know what's best to be done.

LESSON IX.
Of the Soul of the Chief Animal, or, of the MIND.

1. OUt of what has been hitherto explicated, 'tis easily deduc'd that Man, according to this principle, is rais'd above the notions of Matter and Quantity. For, since Matter is a certain capacity of Quantity, Quantity of Figure, Figure is determin'd by Place, and all these in Time: but, 'tis clear, that the intention and thought of Man, in an universall conception, is entertained about something indifferent to infinite Figures, Places, Times, and Magnitudes; and this, not out of the nature of the thing, but because 'tis in the Mind of Man: 'Tis most evident that the Mind is something of another kind then Matter and Quantity; and [Page] consequently, nobler, since 'tis an addition to the perfectest bodies.

2. Again, since Thing and Existence is that which first and primely fixes the Mind, and to which it seems to be a certain capacity: but Thing (out of what has been said) abstracts from and is before great and little,Les. 7. n. 11. 16. both in rarefy'd and augmented things: it follows, that the notion of the Mind is before and nobler then Quantity and, its com-part, Matter.

3. Again, since all the negotiation of our Mind reduces divisibles to indivisibility; as appears in Numbers, Figures, Points, Lines, Superficies, Instants, Comparisons, Denominations, Relations, Negations &c. but, nothing is so different as an indivisible from a divisible: 'tis clear, on all sides, that the nature of the Mind is wholy opposite to the nature of Quantity; and Quantity implying a kind of undeterminatenesse and confusion, that the Mind is still the nobler part.

4. Nor, with lesse evidence, is it prov'd that the Mind is a Substantiall principle of Man: For, since his operations are manifestly indivisible; but, what is receiv'd in a divisible, ipso facto becomes divisible [Page] upon the division of the subject; 'tis clear, his operations are not receiv'd in a Magnitude, and, consequently, that his Mind is an indivisible Substance.

5. Again, if the Substance of Man be wholy materiall and divisible, his Mind it self and all its affections can be nothing but certain Manners and determinations of divisibility (as, 'tis plain, of the other qualities which are accessory to bodies): but, 'tis plain, out of what has been said, that 'tis no such thing: wherefore, neither that the whole Substance of Man is materiall, but, in part, Spirituall and indivisible.

6. 'Tis clear, too, that the Mind is not another, but the same Substance with the Man: For, since an Instrument to all things includes the being an Instrument to some; wherein consists the notion of an Animal: 'tis clear, that a Man is a certain Species of Animal; and consequently, that his Mind, by which he is a Man, is formally one and the same Thing with the rest of the Substance of Man.

7. And indeed, were it suppos'd a distinct Thing from the Substance of the Man, it would not suffer from the body, nor could it acquire any thing through its [Page] conjunction to the body, nor be at all conjoyned to it: for, it must be either entitatively, and this cannot be otherwise then by unity of Substance, for a Thing speaks Substance; or, some other accidentall way, whereof ther's nothing common to a body and a Spirit.

8. You'l say, Since a Spirit is a Thing of another order then a body, how can it concurre into the same Thing? then, how will it be cemented? and, what neighbourhood of one to the other? 'Tis answered, that, as, in a Magnitude, one part is fastned to another, and has the power of a Subsister without division, that is, the propriety of a sever'd Thing without separation: so, the Soul also, may be the same with the body, without confusion of properties.

9. And, because, in a corporeall Substance, ther's admitted a certain negatively indivisible vertue antecedent to divisibility, viz. a not-yet divisibility of the Substance before the Quantity: such as is the connexion and gradation from the divisibility to the negative indivisibility; another like that will be apt to unite, without a Paradox, the Mind positively indivisible, to the Substance negatively indivisible.

10. And, how will it unite? but, according [Page] to those parts, in which the Substance primarily and principally resides: which, as 'tis principally in the Heart, that being a certain Fountain of the whole Thing; so, specially, as to the notion of Animality, 'tis in the Brain, whence Sense and Motion is deriv'd to the whole Animal, which are those operations from which 'tis denominated an Animal.

11. Since, therefore, the other actions, which do not affect the Heart nor the Brain, strike not home to the inmost Substance; so, neither do they reach Mentall Knowledge or the integrity of the Soul: but, the changes that strike upon these Principles affect the Soul, too; and, it comes to passe that not-the-same ordination of bodily parts, especially of the Spirits and Heart, follows in Man from the Brain's being affected, which would follow in another Animal; but one, from the propriety of the affected Substance, conformable to the whole, not to the body alone.

12. But, any other unity, then that the Soul should intimely be comprehended in the definition of Man, and consequently, should consist of the same notion and indistinct predicates, is not to be look'd for in Substance.

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LESSON X.
Of the Proficiency and Deficiency of Man, and of his Essence.

1. THis, therefore, is out of Controversie, that Man, as to his Soul, suffers from Corporeall Agents: For, since the Soul it self is a certain Affection or Qualification of a divisible Substance, which is introduc'd and expell'd by corporeall actions; 'tis clear, that those actions, which reach to the very Substance, must, of necessity, affect and be receiv'd in it, after its manner.

2. Consequently, it acquires Science: For, since, 'tis nothing but a certain Possibility to Science, as to its perfection; 'tis manifest, that all its change is towards Science, viz. to be some kind of Knowledge, either perfect or imperfect.

3. Whence, even they, that deny the Soul acquires Science, say that 'tis excited and admonish't by the presence of the body: but, to be excited and admonish't is to receive knowledge: the Soul, therefore, acquires knowledge from the Body.

[Page] 4. Nor makes against this Socrates's experiment of a Boy, orderly ask'd and answering right to Geometricall propositions: for, this questioning was a production of Science, not a renovation; for 'twas an application of the notion of the same Being, which is between the Terms, to the understanding of the Boy; whereby it came to passe that the Truth to be known was by the notion of Thing, knit to the Soul of the Boy, and made, as it were, a part of it, in which the vertue of knowledge and Science consists.

5. Yet, the Soul has not, by this Science, a power to move the body: For, we see, Science is often overcome by Passion; but, if it had any proper activity, it could not be resisted by any power of its own body: Moreover, it would no longer be a part of a Man, but something grafted in him of a superiour nature, according to that vertue.

6. It follows, therefore, that, by vertue of the Soul, more motives of goods or ills are conjoynd to the singular objects; by whose conjunction the Heart and the body is affected otherwise to those goods or ills, then it would be had they not that conjunction: So that, the force of Pain and Pleasure is that [Page] which moves a Man, even then when he seems to follow the firmest Reason; namely, because to be Reasonable to follow this and to fly that, is nothing else but that more of delightfull is conjoynd with this and more of painfull with that.

7. In vertue of these, therefore, a Man is chang'd, and acts otherwise then if he had not understanding. Nor, is he carry'd, from the very beginning, by reason or any proper power, to this connection of goods with ills; but is prevented by some chance or obvious disposition of objects & corporeall causes, either intrinsecall or extrinsecall.

8. Now, this disposition in the Soul, upon which Operation follows, we call the WILL, and the first beginning Volition; which, 'tis apparent, is left by precedent judgements, chiefly those that are about good or ill, since, by such judgements, 'tis plain, a Man is determin'd to action.

9. Hence, it appears, how the Soul fails in Opining: For, seeing Objects occurre to the Soul, not deduc'd and drawn-in, by its own force and nerves, as it were, but, by the agitation of bodies; if the affection to any thing so presses a Man to action, that it leaves not room for the objects to run in that order which is necessary for demonstration; [Page] the Man must needs fall to acting, before he has any absolute evidence what's to be done.

10. If this be done by reflection, a Man see's that he's mov'd uncertainly; but, he see's, too, that nature requires he should move upon apparences; whence, he does no unbeseeming incongruous thing: But, if it be done without reflection, a Man takes an uncertainfor a certain; which is, to Opine; for he says, this is, which he has no determinate cause to say.

11. From this precipitation of action, it happens, that one Man operates better, another worse; according as one, more frequently or more grievously, precipitates his action, then another. And, those that come nearest to evidence, as far as nature will bear, doe the uttermost of their power; which is to operate vertuously: but, those that very much recede from it, are call'd vitious: between which, a certain middle state of Men inclines notoriously to neither part.

12. 'Tis clear, therefore, whence the defectibility of Vice rises in Man-kind: to wit, because, by too much precipitation of bodily motion, false or the worse opinions are generated. Whence, it follows, that man is not only changeable from [Page] imperfect to perfect, but also from good to evil, and contrariwise: For, if he has opin'd a falsity, upon farther light, he may be led to the Truth, and if, invited by apparences, he has follow'd the Truth, by others he may be averted again.

13. Whence, 'tis evident, ther's some opposition in the Soul, that is, some acts incompossible at once in it: for, since those things which are in the Soul inhere in it, in vertue of Being; 'tis plain, it must be gather'd, out of the very notion of Being, what things consist together in the Soul and what not. Now, 'tis clear, that 'tis against the notion of Being, that the same should Be and not-Be: but, of those things that are, all agree in the notion of Being, nor does any thing hinder that white and black, light and darknesse, hot and cold should coexist; wherefore, neither does any thing forbid their being together in the Soul: but, for the same to Be and not-Be, which is, to be affirm'd and deny'd, 'tis wholy repugnant.

14. Since, therefore, Man suffers no repugnancy in himself to have whatever other things together in his Mind; it comes to passe, that he is capable and cognoscitive of all Things: He can, therefore, [Page] know what's best for himself, or, in what State he may most perfectly enjoy himself: Nor, will he doubt that he is to strain towards this by all his actions; wherefore, he will be govern'd against nature, if he be employ'd otherwise then is convenient to attain This last End.

15. Whether, therefore, one Man rules another, or whether some superiour Power governs him; he govern'd against nature, if he withdraw him from This chiefest Good: And because Nature is the Principle of acting; a Man, as far as he is able, will reduce himself to a rectitude and straight course towards his ULTIMATE GOOD, and will resist all contrary operation.

16. Though Man, therefore, be an Instrument, fram'd to be mov'd by another, as all other Animals: yet, 'twill be with this difference, that other Animals are ordain'd to be mov'd to the End of the Mover, without any respect to their proper good; but, Man is govern'd to the Mover's End, no farther then as the same is a Motion towards the proper Good of Man.

17. MAN, therefore, is an Instrument, fram'd by nature apt for universality of Action, [Page] that is, to do any thing whatever, so it be in order to his proper good: or, a Thing, of connected parts, in a passive and active order, that is, which can order themselves: or, lastly, Consisting of a RATIONALL SOUL and an ANIMAL BODY.

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Peripateticall INSTITUTIONS. Fifth Book.
Containing that part of METAPHYSICK, which treats of SUBSTANCES ABSTRACTED from Matter, and of the Operation of Things.

LESSON I.
Of the Souls separation from the Body.

1.OUt of what has been said, 'tis evident, that a Humane Soul perishes not at the dissolution of its Body: For, since, whilst it exists in the Body, it has immanent acts which cannot belong to a Body; it must of necessity have, of its proper self, the vertue of a Thing, or, of receiving [Page] Existence: Since, therefore, ther's nothing farther requir'd to exist, in a thing already existing, but the having in it self a power of sustaining existence; and, 'tis plain, that, the body being taken away, this power is not withdrawn, (since 'tis in the Soul, apart from and besides the Body); 'tis evident that, by the dissolution of the Body, the Soul is not dissolv'd.

2. Adde to this, that, since there is no other substantiall divisibility, but of Form and Matter; and Matter is not necessary to the Souls existence; ther's no divisibility in the Subject of existence, as existence is in the Soul, by means whereof the Soul can be alienated from Being.

3. We see, too, that all mortality of Bodies either proceeds from contrariety, or from the divisibility of a quantitative Subject; whereof, since neither is to be found in the Soul separated, 'tis plain, that 'Tis not subject to corruption.

4. You'l object, if the Soul in the body is capable of existence, 'tis capable of action or of a Motive power; as quantitative parts, though they have a common existence, yet act upon one another. 'Tis answer'd, quantitative parts are accessory to and find the Substance already perfect: [Page] but formall parts (at least essentiall ones) do not presuppose the Substance establisht; whence, the active power follows not any one, but all.

5. You'l say, that Existence, too, supposes all the parts of a Thing, as 'tis a Thing: wherefore, neither will the Soul be capable of existence in the Body. 'Tis answer'd, that action belongs to the Soul in the Body as existence does: For, existence makes not the Soul, while 'tis in the Body, to be a Thing; for that's primely of the whole, and the whole Man is the Thing; but it makes the Soul to be That which may be a Thing: So, also, 'tis not absolutely a principle of acting, but 'tis a principle by which action becomes other then 'twould be without it; and consequently, it has a Being, whence action may be, but not whence 'tis.

6. It appears, again, that the Soul separated is not, truly, the same Thing with the Soul in the Body; but is substantially chang'd. For, first 'twas joyn'd substantially to the Body and was one with it: but, 'tis clear, that when, by division, more things are made of one, the Thing divided is chang'd; especially when the Unity it self was substantiall, as in the present case; [Page] since the Soul adheres to the corporeall Substance, not by quantity, but by identification.

7. Again, the Soul, now separated, is the immediate and adequate Subject of its own existence: whereas, in the body, the Man himself was the Thing, and the Soul only a part of the Thing, or, whereby the Thing was. Yet, 'tis the same Thing, as to its notion and definition; since it consists of those predicates it had in the Body.

8. You'l object, In the Body, it had not a power of receiving existence in it self; therefore, neither will it have out of the Body: for a part and a Thing are of an intirely different kind, and vastly distinct from one another. 'Tis answer'd, that, as, in the parts of a Magnitude, 'tis manifest, that they are neither Things, nor only parts of a Thing; but something between, which is so a part, that it may be some kind of whole: So, it repugns not, that there should be something in formall parts which is, de facto, a part, and yet may be a whole; and that should be a kind of Middle thing, which has enough in it self to become a whole, yet should not actually be a whole: Whence, when the Soul is separated, there is not any thing added [Page] to it, to make it more capable of existence, but that is withdrawn from it, which hindred it from existing.

9. Now, he that desires to frame to himself, in some sort, a notion of a separated Soul; let him ponder with himself that object which corresponds to the words Man or Animal, as such: which when he shall see, abstracts from Place and Time, and is a Substance by the only necessity of the Terms; let him conceive the like of a separated Soul.

10. Then, let him attentively consider some self-evident and most naturall proposition: in which, when he shall have contemplated that the object is in the Soul with its proper existence and, as it were, by it; let him think a separated Soul is a Substance that is all other things, by the very connexion of Existences.

11. Lastly, when, in Bodies, he shall observe that Motion proceeds from the quality of the Mover & a certain impulse; and that this impulse is deriv'd again from another impulse, and so up even to that which is first mov'd, and beyond: let him imagine the Soul is a kind of principle of such impulse; whatsoever thing that must be.

[Page] 12. What is said of the Substance of the Soul, undoubtedly must be understood, too, of its proper Accidents; for, since they depend only upon it, (being something of it, nay even the very Soul), and it would be more imperfect without them; they must run the same fortune with it, unlesse some speciall reason interpose.

13. Whatever things, therefore, were in the Man, according to his Soul, at the instant of his Death, remain in the Soul after separation: wherefore, all his Resolutions or Iudgements, whether speculative or practicall, shall remain in it; where, since they cannot be without Apprehensions, even they, too, shall remain: And, since all things, which are made to follow out of or have connexion with these, are in a separated Soul, in vertue of these, its Science must needs be extended to all those; all such, therefore, which have once been in it and are not blotted out, after death all remain.

14. Since, therefore, in a Soul ther's an infinite capacity; and ther's no opposition of apprehensions among themselves, nor any other opposition, but of contradiction, whereby the same is affirm'd to be and not-be: all the apprehensions, scrap'd [Page] up together in the whole life, and judgements unretracted must, of necessity, remain; unlesse some speciall Cause withstand.

15. The whole Notion, therefore, of the past life, all the particular acquaintances of Familiars and other Individuums, all Sciences and Arts, attain'd in the life time, survive after Death.

LESSON II.
Of the Science of a separated Soul, and its unity vvith the Soul.

1. BUt, all these things being so, now, in the Soul, that time was, they were not; 'tis plain, they are so conjoyn'd to it, that ther's no repugnancy it may be without them: wherefore, so there be a cause, they may be divid [...]d from it: some kind of divisibility, then, there is between the Soul and the things in it.

2. Not that which is between the parts of a Magnitude; since, here's an indivisibility on both sides, whereas a Magnitude is not made up of indivisibles. Nor, that which is between Matter and Form; since [Page] the Soul, which is before, is able to preexist of it self; and whatever things come into it supervene to a Thing already existing. Nor that which is between Substance and Quantity; since Quantity is in a Thing, as somewhat of it; but things known are in the Knower as other things which preexist out of him.

3. 'Tis, therefore, a speciall manner of divisibility which is not exactly found in bodies: For, since a body essentially includes a power or possibility, the unity of a body is by the privation of act on one side; whence follows the unity of act in the Compound: But, a separated Soul is compos'd only of Act or Quiddity, as white or hot, and Existence or Being, as when we say, 'tis: whence, its unity to another actually existing must be, so, as an act can be joyn'd to an act, that is, by identification or a community of Being: and, after this manner, are in a separated Soul whatever are in it.

4. Whence, first, this is evident, that a separated Soul knows it self: For, since, to be in another, by way of knowing, is distinguish't, in this, from the other manners of inexisting; that, in others, what inexists is now no Thing in it self, but that's [Page] in which it is; things know'n, by inexisting, lose not the being what they were, though they acquire the being of that which they were not: for, Heat, in that which is hot, is something of the Subject, nor has any proper Being of its own; but, the hot Subject which is felt is, so, in him that's sensible of it, that he knows 'tis hot; therefore, this Subject to be actually hot is in the person that's sensible of it.

5. In like manner, the Soul exists substantially, because Being is made something of the Soul. Again, this, that the Soul is, is in the Soul: for, since the Soul is a certain Power of being all things that exist; and it self also exists; it cannot but, by reason of its intimate conjunction, be present to it self according to this its power, which is that it cannot but be understood.

6. Again, since all those things are in the Soul which we have, above, recounted; they must needs be, too, all known in the Soul: And, because, 'tis clear, that, in a Syllogism, the Conclusion is nothing but the very Premisses; all is known by a separated Soul, which is deducible out of those things that are in the Soul.

7. And, because, such is the connexion of Truths, that, out of any one, all others, [Page] may, by links, be drawn in; it comes to passe that a Soul, which knows any whatever sensible Truth, knows intirely all cognoscible things; that is, every Soul penetrates absolutely all things.

8. For, if any Infant never knew its own Being, it is not to be esteem'd to have arriv'd at all to the nature of Man: For, since, even in us, to be sensible of or to know is by suffering from another; we know another thing is, because we know we have suffered from it: but, if we know we have suffered from it, we already know we are: the first knowledge, therefore, even in the body, includes the knowledge of our selves.

9. And, since Passion is a participation of the Thing from which we suffer; it must needs be that the Thing is in us, when we are sensible of it: and, because it does not denominate according to its own proper appellation, but according to the quality of that wherein it is, (for, we do not call an Eye white or wooden, but a Seeer of white or wood); it must needs be that 'tis in it, as another thing, and as of the nature of the sensitive Subject. Now, the reason why in the body, too, the Soul does not know it self, but the Man, a part of whom it [Page] is, is because 'tis he that is and not it, as has been said.

10. You'l object, this multiplicity of knowledge is fram'd or aggregated, either of severall knots and articles, as it were, so that whatever was knowable in this world by new discourse, the same is, in some sort, a new addition in the Soul; or of one simple knowledge which, eminently and in one formality, in a manner, comprehends all these knowledges: but, neither of these seems possible; not the first, because 'twould be a certain infinity, either in act, which is impossible, or in power, and then 'twould be some continuity and a principle of continuall motion; nor the later, for such an universality seems not to have any thing above it.

11. 'Tis answer'd, the manner of a separated Soul, in some sort, contains both; though 'tis neither way formally: For, since, the parts in formall composition are not actually; 'tis plain, that neither can there be, in this composition of the knowledge of a separated Soul, formall knots and articles of discourse, & consequently, no actuall infinity: Again, since one part is not beyond another, that is, extended, as in quantity, but all, by a certain identificaon, [Page] grow together; there can be no continuity between, though the parts be in power, that is, only in the possibility of the Subject.

12. Besides, that this power is not such that there should be any correspondent naturall cause to reduce it into act: but, 'tis only a certain defectibility of act, upon which ther's no active power but only a Logicall or a Creative one, which will never act.

13. 'Tis, therefore, a certain actuall Metaphysicall composition, in which there is a Logicall possibility that any of these later known things may be away, without hurting those that were known before; yet so, that it can never come to passe it should be reduc'd into act: Wherefore, 'tis neither the precise contemplation of one formality precontaining infinite; nor yet any actuall infinity, or naturall divisibility.

14. But, it may be compar'd to the Metaphysicall composition of degrees; in which we see Peter or Bucephalus so agree with infinite Things or Animals, that it contracts thence no multiplicity, and yet we may alwaies frame some new apprehension of them in our Mind.

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LESSON III.
Of the eminency of a separated Souls acts, above those it exercises in the Body.

1. OUt of what has been said, it may be evidenc'd, that simple Intuition or the inexistence of a thing in the Soul serv's, in stead of that composition which is found, here, in our judgements.

2. It appears, also, that an actuall universall intuition of Things supplses, abundantly, any need of Discourse.

3. 'Tis plain, too, that, with that, ther's no want of Memory or Remembrance; ther's no need of ordering or framing Idea's; and lastly, whatever the Soul operates, here, by distinct acts and in time, there, together and with one only labour, (not so much, is wrought out, as) exists.

4. Again, whereas, by reslexion, those things we have, in the body, thought on, we farther know that we have thought on them; so that we can never know the last [Page] reflection, though we had infinite: a separated Soul, by the simple inexistence of it self in it self, necessarily see's all its knowledge without any reflection.

5. Again, 'tis plain, that a separated Soul, in another manner, excells Place and Time, then in the Body: since, in that, it only abstracts from them, but, out of that, it comprehends them. For, this universall and actuall knowledge places all Place and all Time within the Soul; so that it can act in every place at once and together (as far as concerns this respect), and provide for all time; wherefore, 'tis, in a manner, a Maker and Governour of time and place.

6. It appears, moreover, that 'tis active, out of its very self: for, since it comprehends all things, it needs not Sense, as in the body, to perceive that infinity of Individuality; but it know's, even, to the utmost divisibility of Magnitude, whatever circumstances are requir'd to action: It knows, too, what is good for it self; whence, it, naturally & of it self, has both power and an actuall will, which alone are requir'd to act; for power depends on pure Science, and whoever is impotent is ignorant what is to be done, by him, to produce such an effect.

[Page] 7. Hence, lastly, it follows, that the proportion of Pleasure and Grief, out of the body, is infinite, to that in the body: For, since Pleasure is nothing else, but a judgement concerning a good possest, out of which follows an activity to enjoy and retain it; and Grief is the same, concerning an ill, which the Soul desires to repell: Whether we contemplate the Manner of the Souls Being, to which its acts are proportion'd; 'tis of a superiour notion, that is, of an infinite eminency.

8. Or, the Firmnesse and Evidence of its Knowledge; since all knowledge receives strength from antecedents and consequents, it must of necessity attain an infinite excellency: for every knowledge of a separated Soul has infinite things connected with it, out of which 'tis confirm'd.

9. Or, its Eminency above Time and Place; 'tis rays'd in a like degree: Or, lastly, its force of Activity; 'tis beyond all comparison. Wherefore, to the least, either Pleasure or Grief, of the Future life, even abstracting from the Perpetuity, nothing can be comparable in this mortall state, or considerable in respect of it.

10. Again, 'tis collected, out of what [Page] has been said, that all separated Souls, or, at least, the most part are improv'd in this, that whatever false judgements they have taken up in the whole course of their lives, they throw them off by Separation: For, since, the excellency of a separated Soul is immense above the powers of an imbody'd one, & the connection of all Truths is, immediately upon the Separation, imprinted in it; it must needs be that a true judgement of all things is impress'd: since, therefore, Contradictories cannot consist together in the Soul, the false judgements must be expell'd; and Souls, as to this, be universally improv'd.

11. Nor, is it lesse evident that, among Souls, there will be some difference, by reason of the employments they have follow'd in their life time: For, since, whilst we live in the body, one exercises his Understanding more about one thing, another about another; and, as, the first act works a knowledge of the thing, so, the following acts cannot but encrease this knowledge and more perfectly impresse it upon the Soul: It follows, since all these must needs participate of the elevation caus'd by the Separation; the Soul must know more perfectly, too, in Separation, its [Page] accustomed Objects and whatever depend on them, in a due proportion, then other things; whence, it comes to passe, that the Sciences here acquir'd, not only, remain in the future life, but, are in the same proportion, there, as they were, here.

LESSON IV.
Of the Felicity and Infelicity of separated Souls, and their Immutability.

1. ANd, because the Affections in the Soul are nothing else but judgements, upon which operation does or is apt to follow; and the stronger the judgement is, so much the apter operation is to follow out of it, if it be a judgement concerning good or ill: it comes to passe, that our Affections to our Acquaintance and Friends, and the rest which we have cultivated in this life, shall remain in the future: wherefore, we shall both better know and more rejoyce in our Parents and Friends, then in others, (other circumstances alike).

2. And, because the Affections shall remain, & that, in the proportion they were [Page] in, during life: it follows, that those who have, in this life, delighted in those things & Sciences, which the Soul is apt and fit to enjoy in Separation, (for example, in naturall Contemplation, or that of abstracted Spirits, especially, if with great affection), will have a vast Pleasure in the State of Separation, through the perfection of the knowledge they'l enjoy.

3. But, those that have given themselves up wholly to corporeall pleasures will be affected with vast Grief, through the impossibility of those pleasures, there.

4. You'l object, that separated Souls will see the unworthinesse of such pleasures, and consequently, will correct in themselves such erroneous and false judgements, nor will have such appetites as would torment them. 'Tis answer'd, these griefs follow not out of false, but inordinate judgements; for, 'tis true, that such like pleasures are a good of the body and of the Man (whose appetite is the appetite of the Soul); again, supposing the deordination of the Soul, 'tis true, that these pleasures are conformable and good, even to it: but grief follows, hence, that the judgements or affections about these are greater, then in proportion to those other [Page] desires, which ought to be preferr'd before them.

5. Whence, it comes to passe, that the Soul's seeing these objects to be unworthy and not regardable, in comparison of the better, increases its pains; whilst it can neither cease to desire those it desires, through the excesse of these affections above the rest, and yet sees they are vile and unworthy.

6. Moreover, out of what has been said, 'tis deduc'd, that, in the state of separation, no variety can happen to Souls, from a body, or the change of bodies: For, since a change passes not from any body into the Soul, but through the identification of the Soul with its own body; and this identification ceases, by the state of Separation; it follows, that no action nor mutation can be derived from any Body, to the Soul.

7. Nor, has the Soul, of it self, a principle of changing it self: not from hence only, because an Indivisible cannot act upon it self: but also, because, since a mutation of the Soul cannot be any other, then, either according to the Understanding or Will; but the Understanding is suppos'd to know all things together and [Page] for-ever, whence, by the course of nature, ther's no room left either for ignorance or new Science; and the Will is either not distinct from the Understanding or, at least, is adequately govern'd, in the state of separation: it follows, that naturally no mutation can happen to a separated Soul from within, or caus'd by it self.

8. Nor, yet, from any other Spirit, without the interposition of the body: For, since all Spirits are indivisible, their operations, too, will be such; but an indivisible effect, supposing all the causes, of necessity exists in the same instant: wherefore, if any thing be to be done between Spirits, 'tis all, in one instant, so done and perfected, that, afterwards, another action cannot be begun: for if it begin, either the causes were, before, adequately put, or not; if they were, the effect was put; if they were not, some of the causes is chang'd that it may now begin to act, and not this, but the former, is the first mutation, whereof, 'tis to be urg'd, whether the causes were put before?

9. If you say, the Spirit waits a certain time: First, time is motion and not without a body: Then, since, among Spirits, nothing is chang'd by time, one that acts [Page] according to reason could not expect a time by which nothing could be chang'd. Certain, therefore, it is, that There can be no change, by the power of nature in a separated Soul.

10. From the collection of all has been said concerning the Soul, 'tis deducible, that Our life is a Mould or a March to our Eternity; and, according as a Man behaves himself in this life, such an Eternity he shall, hereafter, possess: since Good-deeds and Rewards, Crimes and Punishments are equally eternall.

11. To conclude, He that has liv'd perfectly shall be perfect in the future life, he that has liv'd better shall be better, he that has liv'd well shall be well; he that has liv'd ill shall be ill, he that has liv'd worse shall be worse, they that live worst they, too, shall be worst of all for ever: so true it is that THINGS WILL NOT BE ILL GOVERN'D, that is, their very Nature exacts and forces them into a good Government.

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LESSON V.
Of the nature of Existence, and its Vnity vvith the Thing.

1. OUt of what has been said, 'tis clear, that all bodies and a separated Soul it self, sometimes, are and, time was, they were not: whence, 'tis evident, that the notion of Being or Existence is different from the notion of that Thing whereof 'tis affirm'd; since, 'tis deny'd, too, of it, and since, of all Substances that are so different, 'tis said, according to the same notion, that they are.

2. Besides, if, for Peter or a Man not to be, were the same, with Peter not to be Peter or a Man not to be a Man; 'twere a proposition destructive of it self, and, consequently, impossible; but now 'tis prudent and pertinent to Sciences.

3. Neither would there any one and the same thing be a Subject of contradictory enunciations, or of affirmation and negation; and consequently, the art of Logick and the foundation of all humane discourse would be taken away: Nothing, [Page] therefore, is more evident then that Existence is distinguisht, mentally or by definition, from the Thing whereof 'tis spoken.

4. But yet, that it should differ, really, actually and, as it were, numerically or in the Subject, from the Thing whose 'tis, 'tis equally impossible: since, so, they would either of them be Things;B. 4. Les. 2. the whole,n. 1. therefore, would not be one and a Thing, as above, in the like case, is deduc'd.

5. Notwithstanding, since a Thing really acquires and loses existence, (for, to be made is to receive, to be dissolv'd is to lose existence); 'tis evident, ther's a reall divisibility between a Thing and Existence.

6. But, this divisibility is lesse then any of those, hitherto, explicated: both because, in separation, neither part of the Compound remains; as also, because existence out of a Compound is not intelligible, since 'tis its ultimate actuality or actuation. And, as 'tis commonly said, that Union cannot be understood out of Composition, nor Action without a Term; so, neither can Being without it actually be, and consequently, make those things be which are by it.

[Page] 7. Lastly, 'tis evident, that existence is the perfection of every and all Things; since, the notion of all Substances (as 'tis explicated above) is nothing else but to be such a capacity of existing:B. 4. Les. 2. n. 1. whence, they have the notion of a power to that; or rather, the notion of an as-it-were (a quasi-) possibility, since they have a vertue terminative of the understanding (that we call to be a quiddity) which a possibility has not.

8. Notwithstanding, because this notion is nothing else, but a disposition and preparation to existing; Existence is not only the perfection, but, if it were perfect, it would be the whole perfection of any Thing whose it were.

9. It follows out of what has been said, that no Thing, of those that sometime are sometime are not, is of it self; but, all require some other thing to make them exist: For, since they are sometime and sometimes are not, 'tis evident, the notion in them, which is presuppos'd to Being, and whereof 'tis said it is, is, of it self, indifferent to Being and not-Being; and, which follows, this notion being put, Being is not put or the Thing is not, in force of this notion; and something else, therefore, [Page] is requir'd, which being put, Being must necessarily be apply'd to that notion: 'Tis from without, therefore, that these Things exist, and not from their own intrinsecall nature and force.

10. And, because this notion has not its indifferency from otherwhere, but from it self; as long as it has Being, so long an extrinsecall cause must make it exist: for, since its necessity of existing is from something without, that extrinsecall being taken away, it is no longer: And, because from an indifferent nothing follows, its exexisting is not deriv'd from any intrinsecall; and, which follows, if, the extrinsecall being taken away, it should exist, this, its existing, would be an effect without a cause.

LESSON VI.
Of the Existence, Simplicity, and Eternity of GOD.

1. AGain, it follows, there is some Thing, for whom 'tis impossible not to exist: For, since an effect is because another is, 'tis clear, the same cannot be the cause of it self: nay, if two should be put, as, adequately, cause and effect to one another, the same would be [Page] put as cause of it self; for, if A be because B is, and B again because A is, 'tis clear, that A is because A is, that is, 'tis cause and effect to it self.

2. Wherefore, since those things that may not-Be need an extrinsecall cause to Be; nor can all things have an extrinsecall cause, unlesse some two be, reciprocally, causes to one another: it follows, there must be something which needs not an extrinsecall cause; and consequently, must have, from its intrinsecalls, that it cannot not-Be, and for which it must be impossible not to Be.

3. Again, since an impossibility of notexisting imports and carryes Existence along with it; and this impossibility is intrinsecall and essentiall to the Thing in which it is; it follows, too, that Existence is essentiall to such a Thing.

4. And, since existence is equally universall with the notion of Being or Thing, that is, every Thing has an existence correspondent to it, which it may actually have; and Being is the most universall predicate of that wherein 'tis; it follows, that Existence is the most universall predicate of the Thing to which 'tis essentiall.

5. But, on the other side, because Existence [Page] being put, the Thing is compleat, as to its essence; nor can any essentiall predicate supervene to that which exists, but all are presuppos'd to existence: 'tis clear, that, to the most Genericall notion of a Thing to which Existence is essentiall, there can no essentiall Difference supervene; and consequently, that, between Things to which existence is essentiall, there can be no essentiall difference, that is, but One only such Thing can exist.

6. There is, therefore, some Thing essentially existing of it self; from which, being but One only, all other Things must, of necessity, receive their birth and existence: Now, such a Thing we conceive to be that we call GOD: There is therefore, a GOD.

7. The notion, therefore, of God's existing is, that his existence or essence is diametrically and contradictorily oppos'd to not-Being: not, in the Understanding, as a Chimaera is oppos'd to a non-Chimaera; nor, in possibility, as a man to not-a-man; nor, in an irradiate act, as it were, and impress'd like a Seal in water, as our being and not-being, running and not-running: but, in the thing it self, by the highest and ultimate actuality, substantially, by the very [Page] essence of Being and exercising, by the very notion of existing, it self substantially and concentrally within it self and about it self and upon it self reflected, exercised, and exercising.

8. This is the solidity and stability of the First thing and GOD; whilst, the stability of all the rest is no other, but to depend and Be from Him.

9. Out of what has been said, is deduc'd the most eminent Simplicity and Indivisibility of God. For, since existence is essentiall to him; and there can be nothing in a Thing, neither before nor after existence; 'tis clear, that God is so Existence, that he is nothing besides, formally.

10. Therefore, He is not corporeall or compos'd of parts excluding one another: for, a Body, since it has a Being in parts, of necessity includes something besides Existence, divisible from that.

11. The same is for composition of Matter and Form, Subject and Accidents; for these, since they include something divisible from Being, cannot be pure existers.

12. Nor is there any room for composition of Genus and Differentia; since, Difference [Page] supervenes to a Genus, at least, with a foundation in the Object for so apprehending it. Ther's, therefore, absolutely, no composition at all in God.

13. But, whatever composition there is in our Understanding concerning God, proceeds out of the pure defect of our understanding, which cannot adequate the Simplicity of the Divine Essence. GOD, therefore, is pure Being, pure Actuality, the pure Brightnesse of eternall Light.

14. Again, hence 'tis deduc'd that God is Eternall, or, that there is not in God past and future, but only present. For, since God cannot not-Be, by reason of the essentiall exercise of his Being; and, has this essentially, that he cannot not-have-been nor not-be-to-be, but possesses his essence indivisibly: it comes to passe, that 'tis the same thing to God not to-not-have-been and not not-to-be, as to Be what He is; but, there cannot be, either by imagination or in time, an instant suppos'd, in which God possesses not his Essence; in every moment, therefore, of time whether reall or imaginary, He is his not not-to-have-been and his not not-to-be hereafter, that is, his to-have-been and his to-be.

15. In every instant of time, therefore, [Page] He is in every instant of time past and future: not, that the time past and future are; but, that the indivisible existence of God possesses all that length, which passing times make, contracted▪ by the eminency of his Simplicity, in an indivisible act; and never either loses or gains, because His repugnancy to not-Being is actuall Being, and Actually-to-Be is his Essence.

LESSON VII.
Of the Perfection, Immutability, and Science of God.

1. FArther, the Perfection and Plenitude of God is deduc'd, that is, whatever goodnesse and perfection is possible, all this is eminently found in God. For, since existence cannot receive existence from another, but is by its own force; 'tis plain, that whatever existence is and whatever perfection is in existence has its Being from that power▪ by which existence exists: the whole perfection, therefore, of existence is in that existence which is of it self and by its own notion; [Page] but this existence is, as has been said, the very essence of God; wherefore, in God, there is all the perfection which ist in existence or can be in it.

2. Since, therefore, whatever is in any Thing, besides Existence, is nothing else but a disposition to existence, or a capacity of it, or a compart in which and by which imperfect existence is to subsist: 'tis clear, too, that perfect existence subsisting includes, more eminently and perfectly, all this perfection, and consequently, that All the Plenitude of Being is in God.

3. Besides, since God or Being-of-it-self is but One alone; whatever is besides must, of necessity, receive Beginning, Goodnesse or perfection from Him: but, that the adequate cause contains all the perfection of its effect is, of it self, evident: all that ample and inexhaustible plenitude, therefore, of intire Being is in God and flows from Him.

4. Out of these foresaid Attributes of God, his Immutability is demonstrated: For, from this Plenitude of Perfection, He is Immutable; because he can neither acquire nor lose any thing.

5. From his Simplicity, again, he is Immutable; because all mutation includes▪ [Page] a divisibility of that which is chang'd, from that according to which it is chang'd.

6. And lastly, from His Eternity, he is Immutable; because what is chang'd has sometime and sometime has-not the same thing; but, what God has he has indivisibly for ever, and, in that very respect, he cannot not-have it.

7. Out of the premisses, too, 'tis collected, that God knows & understands both Himself and all other things, by his one only essentiall act of Being. For, since God is Existence it self & the Plenitude of Being, nothing can belong to existence which is not primarily in Him: since, therefore, to know, is to have the thing known, after a certain proper manner of existing, in one's self; God cannot not-be in Himself, after this manner of existing, yt is, not-be-known by Himself.

8. Again, since all other things are in God; but, to inexist as another thing, is a perfecter manner of inexisting then simply to inexist; it appears, that all other things in God inexist after this manner, too, that is, are known.

9. Nor, does this any thing prejudice the divine Simplicity: For, since those things that are known inexist as another thing, the bounds and divisions of the [Page] Creatures in God are as other things, and produce not their effect, viz. of distinguishing, in Him; but, their being in Him has nothing whereby one should be oppos'd to another; as appears even in us, in whom two Contraries inexist together, that the one may be known by the other.

10. It appears, too, that God knows other things, in his own Essence: which, since it may doubly be understood; one way, that His essence should be the Principle of the knowledge of other things; and another way, that the knowledge of the Creatures should be, as it were, a part of the knowledge of His essence: 'tis to be taken this second way.

11. For, since the Essence of God is not from another, but by its own formall power of existing; 'tis plain, its manner of existing is opposite to the being from another: there ought not, therefore, to be put any Vertuall causality, whereby one should be from another in God; because, whatever is in Him is because it is, or by vertue of self-being.

12. You'l say, the Creatures are something distinct and another thing from God; wherefore, the knowledge of them, too, is distinct from the knowledge of [Page] God. 'Tis answer'd, by denying the consequence: for, some distinct things are of that condition, that the knowledge of one is part of the knowledge of another; and so it happens in the present case.

13. For, since God cannot know his Essence, unlesse he know his Science and the, as it were-vertuall parts of his Essence; and, since the Creatures flow immediately from God, without any other help; it comes to passe, that God is a Cause actually causing by His essence: 'tis plain, therefore, that part of the knowledge of the essence of God is, to know that He actually causes such Creatures, which includes, that such Creatures exist: part, therefore, of the knowledge of the divine Essence is to know the Creatures exist, in all their differences and circumstances.

14. Again, the universall answer is evident to all those questions, Whether God knows Future contingents? the secrets of Hearts? Infinite things? Materia prima? Negations? Mentall or imaginary things? &c.

15. For, 'tis evident, as far as these are apt to exist and to be known, so far they proceed from God; and the knowledge of them is part of the knowledge of God: but [Page] if, on any side, they have no entity nor cognoscibility, so far they are not known by God: But, to enquire, of each of them, what cognoscibility they may have, belongs to their proper places, not to this of the Science of God.

LESSON VIII.
Of the Divine Volition and Liberty.

1. NOr is it lesse evident, out of what has been said, that, since God, operating by Existence, of necessity applyes himself to the particularities of the Creatures, (since Particulars only can exist); and more things cannot be in one but by Science; that, I say, He makes the Creatures by his Science: wherefore, since Science, when 'tis so perfect as to be able to proceed into action, is call'd Will; 'tis clear, that there is a Will in God.

2. And, since the Science of God is every way perfect, it appears, by the same evidence, that there is all the perfection of Will in God, or, all Morall Vertues, as far as they follow out of pure perfection. He is, [Page] therefore, Gracious, Iust, Mercifull, Patient, and whatever other use to be pronounc'd of Him; out of the eminent perfection of his Essence, as 'tis call'd Science.

3. And, since Liberty is among the Perfections of Will, by which the Will or the Person that knows chuses one out of many, according to the Principles of his proper nature; and, the Science of God is larger and more ample then His Operation; nor is there any thing, out of himself, by which he can be impell'd to operate this more then that; 'tis clear, that God, freely and according to his innate inclination, chuses and operates this rather then that.

4. You'l object, since God is a pure Act, there cannot be put in God a naturall inclination, according to which election may be made; because it would have the notion of a Principle in respect of the act of election: there cannot, therefore, be put Liberty in God. 'Tis answer'd, there cannot be put, in God, election in fieri, or, to-be-made, but only in facto esse, or, already made, that is, such a Will as is election already in act; and to this there is not requir'd the notion of cause and effect.

5. Moreover, naturall inclination, as [Page] 'tis put in God, is not any active principle, but a certain common and abstracted notion by which we know God; and, to which, that more particular notion is conformable, according to which we attribute the name of election to God: as, for example, to this Volition, by which God will's that which is best, the volition of the World's Creation is conformable, by which is chosen the best in particular.

6. You'l object, again, since God essentially has all Vertues, He alwaies does, of necessity, that which is best; and would doe against his own Essence, should he doe any thing otherwise then he does: 'Tis, therefore, determin'd to him essentially, to doe every thing as he does: but, that which proceeds out of Nature and Essence is not free: God, therefore, does nothing freely.

7. 'Tis answer'd, Even in us, after we see any thing to be better, 'tis against Nature to doe the contrary: neither are we free, because we can decede from nature; for, so, Liberty would not be a perfection but an imperfection, since all perfection is according to nature: but, Liberty consists in this, That, among many, which, at the beginning, seem indifferent, we can find [Page]which is more according to nature; and embrace that, because 'tis conformable to Naure.

8. Therefore, in God, too, Liberty is, so, to be put, that it be understood He has arriv'd, by his Science and understanding, to act what is conformable to his nature: and though, after He's suppos'd to have arriv'd to that, 'tis against His essence to doe another thing or not to doe this; yet, His Liberty is not, thence, diminisht: as, there is not lesse liberty in a constant Man, that changes not his judgement once establisht, then in a Fool, that, at every little appearance of reason, alters his opinion, but a greater; for, a constant Man, therefore, changes not, because he alwaies exercises his wisely-made choice, that is, the better, whereas a light person exercises now the worse, now the better.

9. Again, for the most part, those things that are-not-chosen are not against the nature of the chooser, in themselves, but from some Accident or complex of circumstances; whence, the terms precisely consider'd, the chooser may doe them according to nature, but, because of some circumstance, he cannot: And, even thus, Liberty may be attributed to God; for, [Page] to doe some particular thing, which he does not, is not against the nature of God precisely compar'd to this Thing; but, when the other circumstances are collected, it appears another thing is better, and then 'tis against the nature of God to doe this: yet, this prejudices not His Liberty; which consists in this, that He rejects that which, in it self, is according to His nature, because, by accident, 'tis against it; which we experience in our selves to be the track and path of Liberty.

10. You'l say, that God is determin'd by the very Being of his Essence; and, so in Him can be understood no indifferency to the utmost circumstance. 'Tis answer'd, this hinders not but that we are necessitated to conceive That perfectly-determin'd Essence, by divers abstractive notions; in one of which this determination is not, so precisely and by design, exprest as in another; and so, to us, the more particular of them becomes the determination of the more common; and of both is compounded the notion of liberty exercis'd in God.

11. You'l object, thirdly, If God were free, he could not-doe what he does; therefore, 'twere possible for him not to have the Volition and Science which He has; [Page] 'tis possible, therefore, there should notbe the same God. 'Tis answer'd, by granting God can make that which He does not; but, by denying the consequence, that He could have another volition then he has: for, when we say, God can make another thing then He does, we compound the Power of God or His fecundity with the Object whereof we speak; but, when we speak of his Volition, we speak of his Vnderstanding compleated to action, and This proceeds to action upon the consideration of all accidents, out of which, as 'tis said, it happens that this object is not made, because 'tis not-best and against Nature.

12. 'Tis, therefore, to be deny'd that there can be in God another act of volition, or, that his Will is indifferent to this and another act; though his effective power, taken abstractedly, is indifferent to more, because it respects the only notion of Being, or, Thing, in them: And thus, 'tis evident, how there is not, thence, inferr'd any possible mutability in God.

13. You'l say, His Will, abstractedly taken, is indifferent, too, to more acts. 'Tis answer'd, we speak not of the Will as it means the faculty, to be abstracted in God; [Page] but of the Will as it signifies the act or Volition; and that alwaies imports that the last determination is made, though it expresses not what 'tis: whence, the notion of it is different from his Omnipotency, which, because 'tis referr'd to things without, does not of necessity imply the second act.

LESSON IX.
Of the Divine Names, hovv they are improperly spoken of God.

1. OUt of what has been said, hitherto, of God, we find farther, that the Names which we attribute to God are all imperfect, and, not one of them all has any notion whose formall object is in God. For, since God is a most Simple Entity, precontaining in one most simple formality, the whole plenitude of Being, that is, the objects of all our notions & the significations of all our Names:

2. And is, too, Existence subsisting; but we have but one only name and notion of existence, which signifies nothing besides: 'Tis clear, that our names do infinitely come short of the most simple essence [Page] of God; both in their genericall notion, because God is in none of our Predicaments; in their integrity, because no name of ours represents all that is in God; and in their form, because none of our apprehensions have a formall likenesse in God. Whatever, therefore, we pronounce of God, must needs be apply'd to Him improperly and by an accommodation of the name.

3. Whence, again, 'tis clear, that all the names, which are spoken promiscuously of Created things and God, are spoken analogically; and their primary signification is that in which they are spoken of the Creatures: For, 'tis evident, that men first impos'd it on created things, and of them they have, in some manner, perfect notions; and consequently, names attributed according to those notions are, in some sort, proper: but, they are infinitely far from explicating the Divinity: whence, it cannot be doubted, but they are more properly pronounc'd of the Creatures then of God.

4. You'l object, Perfections simply-simple are formally in God, and more originally in Him then in the Creatures: names, therefore, signifying these, are [Page] more originally spoken of God then of the Creatures. 'Tis answer'd, that, 'tis evident, all names whatever are translated from the Creatures to God; whence, there can be no doubt which signification is the former: but besides, 'tis false that there are Perfections simply-simple (as Divines term them) in created things, which can be signifi'd by humane names; but those things which are simply, that is, for-themselves-purely, desirable by us, we call simply-simple perfections, and, through ignorance, think they are simply desirable by every Thing.

5. But, ther's none of these formally in God, as 'tis prov'd; and, if any were, formally, then the same name would signifie God and a Creature, in the same signification, and would be univocall. Nor imports it, that these perfections descend from God: for so do all others, which yet they know are metaphorically transferr'd.

6. This notwithstanding, the names which are spoken of God are truly spoken, and it may be argu'd from one to another in Him: For, since he that speaks knows he understands not what that is which he signifies by this name; but knows [Page] 'tis such as has effects, like those proceed from that perfection, which is call'd by this name in Creatures: 'tis clear, that this name truly, both signifies what is in God, because the speaker means to signify this; and, in some sort, makes known God to us, since it manifests God to be something, whence such like effects proceed, as from a just, a mercifull &c. Man.

7. And, since such effects contain others in them, or produce them out of themselves, or they accompany them: 'tis clear again, from the affirmation of the said names, we may proceed to the affirming others; which may signifie, that the consequent effects, too, have their root in God, or, something conformable to their root in Men.

8. You'l object, at least, There are three kinds of names, which are pronounc'd properly of God: Proper names, which agree not to any other, as, to be GOD, Omnipotent, Omniscient, and the like, which suit not with any Creature, & consequently, are, of necessity, attributed properly to God: next, Relatives, as, to be a Creatour, Lord, Iudge, &c. which, being they speak onely an extrinsecall denomination from their effect, it cannot be doubted but they are properly pronounc'd, since, doubtlesse, their effects are [Page] from Him: lastly, Negative names, which, since they only deny something of God, cannot be counted improper; such are, to be incorporeall, immateriall, infinite, immense, &c.

9. 'Tis answer'd, Even these names, too, are improperly spoken of God. For, first, those which seem to be Properly spoken of God include something common to be the basis of what is superadded, which makes a Proper name; since, therefore, that common is improperly spoken, that proper, too, which includes that common, is improperly spoken: as, when God is call'd Omniscient, the Searcher of Hearts, &c. if Science be improperly spoken, then Omniscient, if a Searcher, Powerfull, &c. then Omnipotent and Searcher of hearts are spoken improperly; and the same is of the notion, GOD, whether we take it for a comprehension of all, or whatever else.

10. Again, 'tis false that Relative names speak nothing intrinsecall, but only an extrinsecall denomination: for, they signify a proportion and a community of the nature of things, which have either an unity or coordination in acting & suffering, or a naturall subjection; which, if they are not in the things, (as, in God, in respect of his Creatures, they cannot be), at least, they are in [Page] the Soul, since they are express'd in words; and consequently, even such Names, too, are improperly pronounc'd.

11. Lastly, Negative names, when they are simple, signifie some positive disposition; as, to be blind or lame expresse a vitious and defective disposition of the Legs or Eyes: and so likewise, to be incorporeall, immateriall, infinite &c. in God, explicate a difference of Substance distinct from corporeity and limitednesse, that is, a difference under the same genus; whence, they are improperly spoken of God.

12. But, if a purely-negative proposition were pronounc'd of God, it would not be improper: Whence, that Science which inquires into the Impropriety of the names which are spoken of God, and denies all things of Him, is the most sublime and proper of all.

LESSON X.
Of the degrees of impropriety in the Divine Names.

1. OUt of what has been said, 'tis easily determin'd which names are, more or lesse improperly, pronounc'd of God. [Page] For, there being three degrees of them, The first, of those which signifie things the most excellent in and simply desirable by men; such as are those we call the Vertues, both Morall and Intellectuall: The second degree, of those Goods of the same persons, but participated in others which include imperfection; such as are the goods of Animals or the other Things below Man: lastly, The third, of those which signifie directly and formally imperfection:

2.N. 5, 6, &c. 'Tis clear, these last are most shamefully attributed to God, and only by ignorance: but, the middle ones, by translation, that a name should be, as it were, first by a common Metaphor, used tosignify some Vertue and, then again that borrow'd signification, should be transferr'd to God; for example, when we call a Man a Lamb for being Meek, a Lion for couragious, we pretend, too, to call God a Lamb and a Lion, by the same right as we, before, call'd Him meek or couragious.

3. You'l ask, since both the names of couragious and a Lion are improperly spoken of God, why this should be esteem'd spoken symbolically and metaphorically, [Page] and that properly? 'Tis answer'd, that, in the Creatures we see both the terms, and, therefore, we easily discern when a name is spoken metaphorically and not properly; for we see a Lion to be another thing then Courage: but, when names are transferr'd to God, one of the extremes is obscure to us, and consequently, the translation, too.

4. Moreover, in a Lamb, a Lion, &c. besides meeknesse and courage, there are many other things, which 'tis not the intention of the speaker to transferre: but, in meeknesse and fortitude, ther's nothing but their own particular notions; wherefore, it seems that, of necessity, either they must be in God to whom they are apply'd, or else the name cannot be at all pronounc'd of him: and, therefore, many think these are formally in the Divinity; though they mistake.

5. Out of what has been said, 'tis deduc'd, that some things cannot be attributed to God, which yet are commonly spoken of Him. First, a Distinction, whether formall or vertuall, between his Predicates: for, they that affirm these things observe not that Distinction is a name of negation and imperfection; whence, for these to be [Page] in Him, either vertually or eminently, is as much as that He can be nothing or defect.

6. Worse, yet, is the notion of Cause and Effect, in respect of Himself, attributed to God; for example, that his Attributes flow vertually from his Essence, that He understands other things because He understands himself, that He wills the means because He wills the end, and the like: for, 'tis clear, that the notion of an effect, likewise, speaks imperfection; whence, 'tis no eminency to precontain it.

7. Like this 'tis, to put Instants either of nature or Intellectuall, in one of which some thing should be and another thing not-be in God, till the next instant: for, by this, there is put a posteriority in God, which is imperfection.

8. But, foulest of all, God is put to suppose Creatures, or to depend on them, whether possible or actuall; as, when 'tis said, the Intuitive Vision of God supposes the futurition of Creatures; that God knows not a free act but in its existence; that a conditionate futurition is presuppos'd, before the disposition of the divine Providence; and such like: which, since they make the Divine essence, [Page] really, both posteriour to and depending upon Creatures, are intolerable and absurd.

9. The Imperfections, too, either of the Things God has made or of our Understanding, they unwarily cast upon God: as, when God wills the Means should be for the End, they weakly suspect that He wills the Means because He wills the End; when any one act of God is conceiv'd by us, we not conceiving another, they believe that there is something in God, too, whence one notion may be, though another be suppos'd not-to-be.

10. It appears, out of what has hitherto been said, that, of all the names attributed to God, the name of BEING sounds least imperfection: for, both it stands in the highest degree of Actuality, whereas the rest speak Act only; and 'tis most Universall, whence it has this, both to contain all things and not to be bound to differences, and therefore, to include the plenitude of perfection: and lastly, Being or Existence is perfecter then Essence, which is nothing but a capacity to that; but, all other things are in the order of Essences and more imperfect.

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LESSON XI.
Of the Existence, Nature, and Science of INTELLIGENCES.

1. OUt of the premisses, 'tis easily collected, that there is some Substance, by its nature and originally, incorporeall: For, since God alone is Being of himself, and whatever is produc'd participates existence from Him, and Existence, among those things which integrate a Thing, is the least unlike God, and is the most perfect and supreme; it appears, that all other things which are in a Thing are caus'd by God, by the means of Existence, and that alone immediately flows from God; and, by consequence, nothing is immediately made by God, which is not in the Creature in vertue of Existence.

2. Again, 'tis clear, that, supposing whatever Bodies to exist, they, because they are many, must be in a determinate place: and because, the same things being put and none chang'd, there alwaies remains [Page] the same; all Bodies, in vertue of Existence alone, if nothing be chang'd in them, will alwaies remain in the same place; and consequently, in vertue of God alone and Bodies, there will not any Motion follow.

3. Since, therefore, it appears in bodies, that there is motion; 'tis evident, there is some incorporeall Creature: which, because 'tis requir'd to give the first motion to Bodies, cannot be a separated Soul, whose birth presupposes the motion of Bodies.

4. 'Tis plain, again, that, since this Creature receiv's its Being from God, of it self it may not-be; & consequently, includes in it self a divisibility of Existence from its Essence.

5.B. 4. Les. 3. N. 6. Again, out of what has been said concerning a Body, 'tis evident, that 'tis not compounded of Matter and Form; and a composition of Existence with any thing above it is impossible, since Existence is the most formall Form of a Thing, and consequently, there can be nothing more formall or superiour to it in the Thing whose 'tis.

6. Counting, therefore, those things which integrate a Thing or Being, there are three kinds of Things: GOD, filling the highest degree of Existence; Bodies, by their latitude immensly expanding the infinity of Matter; and This middle kind of [Page] Act, neither essentially actualiz'd, nor flowing into matter, possessing and filling a kind of middle order of subsisting.

7. 'Tis, therefore, a pure Act, because 'tis not mingled with a substantiall power or possibility: 'tis not the purest, because 'tis compounded with Existence, which is a Substantiall composition &, as is manifest, common to all but that One Thing of-it-self.

8. Again, 'tis evident, that an incorporeall Creature is Intellective; &, so, actually, Understanding: for, since the necessity of its existence is collected from the motion of Bodies, 'tis evident, it has some power to alter Bodies, that their motion may follow; wherefore, since action proceeds from an Agent as it actually is, that motion of Bodies must, of necessity, be actually in this Creature, & consequently, the Bodies chang'd.

9. Since, therefore, ther's no Matter in this Creature, nor, consequently, any determination of matter, as its motion or quality; it comes to passe, that Bodies are in It as existing in themselves, that is, as another thing: since, therefore, to be known is, to be, as another thing, in another, this our Creature is Cognoscitive; and since, to be known by the notion of Being, or as existing, is to be understood; and movable things are known to exist; the [Page] Creature we are in search of is an INTELLIGENCE.

10. It follows, too, that an Intelligence, in its own essence known, knows God and all other things that exist: For, since an Intelligence has whereto an existing thing may be conjoyn'd, retaining the property of its being another; &, its own Essence existing is intimately conjoyn'd to this power; 'tis clear, that It primarily and formally so inexists.

11. And, since, knowing that its own Essence exists, it must needs see that It exists accidentally; it sees evidently, that It has a Cause of existing, and that such an One as we have been in search of above: It sees,Les. 6, 7, &c. therefore, in its own Essence, that God is, and is such as we have been enquiring after, and far perfecter then we can decypher.

12. It sees, therefore, that nature actually emanes and flows out from Him; and, because it sees what is the End of nature, viz. that so many kinds and subdivisions of Animals should shoot-out and ripen into Spirits of eternall Being; It sees what is necessary for this; and consequently, the whole Plot of the World, and wherein It self will be usefull for it.

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LESSON XII.
Of the comparison of Intelligences to Souls and Bodies.

1. TIs clear, too, that an Intelligence has a reall divisibility of Essence from knowledge: for, since, 'tis of the notion of the knowledge of its Essence, that it exists, and its existing is divisible from Its essence; much more the knowing its existence, which is posteriour to and supposes its existence;

2. Since, too, its Essen̄ce is limited to a certain degree of existence whereof 'tis capable; 'tis clear, the plenitude of Being is not essentiall to It: Since, therefore, by Its knowledge, It has the plenitude of Being, knowledge is not essentiall to It: There is, therefore, a non-repugnancy in Its essence to the not-having such knowledge; and consequently, a reall divisibility of its Essence against its knowledge.

3. You'l say, that power is in vain which is never reduc'd to act; but, this divisibility is not reduc'd to act; therefore, 'tis [Page] in vain, & ther's none. 'Tis answer'd, 'tis not a power, but a non-repugnancy, which was in act whilst the Intelligence existed not.

4. Out of what has been said, we are arriv'd to the comparison of an Intelligence to a separated Soul: for, as they agree, in that they are both immateriall Things, existing by their own existence; so, they disagree, in that an Intelligence is adequate to its existence, but a separated Soul exists by an existence which is, by nature, common to the Body, and consequently, 'tis not adequate to its existence.

5. Again, though both understand their own Essence and, by that, other things; yet 'tis with this difference, that an Intelligence has this knowledge of it self from its manner of existing, but, a separated Soul,Les. 2. N. 8. from its Body: for, when, as 'tis above said, something strikes a man, it makes him know that is, because it strikes him; but, his being struck includes that he is; therefore, in all knowledge, a man must needs know that himself is: The Soul, therefore, has, in its first knowledge, the notice of its own existence and, from the body, [Page] receiv's the knowledge of its Being; which unlesse it carry'd along with it, it could not reflect upon it self whilst 'tis separated, because 'tis a power or possibility; for a power is indifferent to an act and non-act, and has neither but by force of an Agent distinct from it.

6. This, therefore, is the universall difference of separated Souls from Intelligences, and proper to them as they are incompleat Spirits: that a Soul, out of the pure notion of its identity with its Intellect, does not inform its Understanding; for, otherwise, it would not be a power: but an Intelligence has this, out of the very genericall manner of its nature, by the force of identity To be present to its intellective vertue.

7. Hence, again, it follows, that a Soul, in vertue of those things which are in it by the communion of the body, is carry'd to all other things: but, an Intelligence, in vertue of its own Essence existing.

8. A Soul, therefore, even in separation, uses these common notions it findes, impress'd in it; and consequently, too, by other such like, attains to the plenitude [Page] of Being: but an Intelligence, by the pure degrees of Things, at sight of one Thing, transcends to another, nor needs incomplete notions.

9. Lastly, a Soul, because 'tis naturally the compart of a certain Body, is determin'd to that, nor can act upon another but by means of the motion and affection of its own Body: and, it affects its proper body by identification; because the impression or alteration of one is, of necessity, the alteration of the other, according to its manner, by reason of their identity.

10. But, an Intelligence is not determin'd to any Body, but indifferent, and is determin'd only by choice to this rather then that; and changes that, because, being of it self in act and exercise, the exercise, according as the corporeall nature is subject to It, passes into the Body, by reason the Intelligence is in such a determination.

11. Again, since an Intelligence and a Body are call'd, univocally, Things, and the notion of existence is found the same in both; and all existence which is a compart with essence is, of necessity, proportion'd to a part of Being, and limited: but, [Page] between two limited Things under the same univocall notion, there must needs be a proportion: 'tis evident, that Bodies are not infinitely inferiour to Intelligences, in the notion of Substance; and consequently, that the action, too, of an Intelligence upon a Body is not but in proportion.

12. And indeed, if the operation of an Intelligence, viz. motion, were suppos'd unlimited in respect of a Body: it would not be connaturall for an Intelligence to move a Body, but to change it instantly, nor for a Body to be mov'd by It: That nature, therefore, might grow up by continu'd degrees, there would need a kind of Thing of a middle nature, between Bodies and separated Souls, on one side, as the Summe and fruit of Bodies; and an Intelligence on the other; to which middle Creature it should be connaturall to move Bodies.

13. Be it, therefore, certain that an Intelligence's power of moving is limited; but yet, rais'd, too, above the motive power of a Soul: and immediately 'tis deduc'd, that, because there are many primarily-mov'd Bodies and, as it were, Suns; nor is it likely that one Intelligence can [Page] move them all; many Intelligences, too, viz. a severall, to the severall Suns, must be assign'd.

LESSON XIII.
Of the Distinction, Subordination, and Number of Intelligences.

ANd, because To be another thing, as another, is the notion of Knowledge, and, out of that, follows the comparative power, or, that many may inexist together; it appears, that the perfection of Understanding is argu'd from hence, that more may be together in one Understander then in another: but, since, in Intelligences, as also in a separated Soul, all things inexist together; this togethernesse must not be referr'd to the time but to the way of Knowledge, that they should be accounted together which are contain'd under one Step or divisibility.

2. Intelligences, therefore, will be essentially distinguisht, in that One comprehends the Universe, by fewer links and knots, as it were, then another: so that, the Supreme, by one divisibility, knows [Page] whatever is and what, according to the order of nature, can follow out of these; and this capacity follows out of the amplitude and eminency of its Substance: the lowest is that which has, for the severall Substances, severall divisibilities.

3. 'Tis manifest, out of what has been said, that there is a perfect Subordination amongst the Intelligences: for, the Superiours comprehend the adequate perfection of the Inferiours, and not in part only, as 'tis in Bodies.

4. Moreover, a Superiour is active upon a greater body, or more active upon an equall body, then an Inferiour: whence, if each be suppos'd willing to act diversly upon the same body, the Superiour will prevail, and the Inferiour will not be able to act.

5. It appears, notwithstanding, that this Subordination extends not, to this, that a Superiour Intelligence can act upon an Inferiour, or contrariwise: for, since there is not in an Intelligence any notion of power or possibility, consequently, neither is there any mutability; but, as Its existence once infus'd, by reason of the connection with its Form which has not an indifference to more, remains [Page] unchangeable as long as its Form; so also, the knowledges of an Intelligence cannot, like Accidents, be present and absent, but, once infus'd by the power of the Giver, they are subject to no mutation but from Him. Since, therefore, there is no other divisibility of an Intelligence, but either in Its being or its knowing; 'tis evident, It can receive no change from another Intelligence.

6. 'Tis apparent, too, that, because an Intelligence embraces whole nature, by necessary deduction; It has, of necessity, in its very birth, all the good which 'tis ordain'd to have: since, the good of every thing is that which is according to its nature, and, the whole possible good which can belong to a Creature, whose entire nature is to be intellectuall, is to understand: whence, since an Intelligence understands all things by force of its nativity; by the same gift that gives It being, it arrives to the possession of all connaturall good.

7. Every Intelligence, therefore, is blessed, in respect of the good it possesses; nor can it lose this Beatitude, more then Its essence with which 'tis conjoyn'd.

8. Lastly, 'tis evident, there are three things chiefly to be consider'd in Intelligences, [Page] Understanding, Will, and Action: among which, Action is the meanest, as being about inferiour things; & though, by it, they rule over Bodies as Instruments, yet those things must needs be nobler by which themselves are perfected, which things belong to the Vnderstanding.

9. And, the Will differs no otherwise from the Understanding, then the imperfect Understanding from the perfect: for, when the things that are understood are appropriated to the nature of the understander, and are made something of it, then the Understanding begins to be Will. 'Tis evident, therefore, that the Will is of those intelligible things, the understanding whereof most of all perfects the understander.

10. Wherefore, the greatest nobility of Intelligences is, to excell according to Will; the middle, according to Understanding; the lowest, according to Action: though, 'tis clear, that these notions are so correspondent to one another in Intelligences, that, as much as the Will of one excells that of another, so much, too, must both its Understanding and power of Acting.

[Page] 11. Now, that the multitude of Intelligences is but finite, 'tis evident from hence, because all Multitude (since it rises and is encreas'd from One by Unities, and Unity cannot be a step from a finite to an infinity) of necessity, is finite.

12. But, since they are not made for the good of another thing, as their End; nor have any thing common, whereby they should naturally respect one another; nor any order of cause and effect; and there is no term, no limits of Understanding: limitation, among them, cannot depend on any other, then the occult proportion of their Natures, by which they integrate the compleat order of being without matter.

LESSON XIV.
Of the Action of GOD, Intelligences, and Bodies, severally.

1. FRom the knowledge of the Agents, by the same steps we are led to the knowledge of their Actions. First, therefore, 'tis evident, out of what has been said, that, since God alone exists of himself and essentially, something flows [Page] immediately from Him; and consequently▪ is created, and that God creates: for, 'tis evident, what is made is made out of no presuppos'd matter; since God himself is mutable, and no Thing, besides, preexists.

2. 'Tis plain, too, this Action is in an instant: for, were it in Time, since, in the intermediate Time, there is no Substance wherein it should be subjected, it would neither subsist nor be in another: wherefore, of necessity, some Substance flows instantaneously from God.

3. 'Tis manifest, therefore, that both the Intelligences and the first Bodies proceed from God, by such Action.

4. Nor must it be ask'd, by what extrinsecall power they receive birth from God: for, since God is essentially Being it self, 'tis plain, that whatever is requir'd, intrinsecally, for God to be a cause actually causing, is essentially found in God; and, since nothing besides himself exists, that which is in Him is of such vertue that the effect follows; wherefore, 'tis a necessary consequence, because the subsistent Being is Being it self, Creatures are, or, if Being be, the Creature is; as if you should say, if the Sun be not capable of its own [Page] light, the things about it are illuminated, or, if the Fountain overflows, the neighbourhood is watred.

5.Less. 13. n. 5. Again, since an Intelligence can neither act upon God, because He is immutable, nor upon another Intelligence, nor upon a separated Soul, which, as to that, is of the same nature with an Intelligence; its action is wholly about Bodies: And, Action about a Body, if it be compounded of more, is known by the simples whereof 'tis compounded; now, that there are only three simple Actions has been evidenc'd, (by shewing how all Actions are perform'd) in our Physicks, viz. locall Motion, Condensation, and Rarefaction.

6. And, for Locall Motion, 'tis manifest that 'tis, really, nothing but the division of a Magnitude: and the division of a Magnitude consists both of the conjunction of the dividing body to the divided, and its separation from the body with which 'twas formerly one: to conjunction there's nothing else requir'd, but that no Quantity keep off the Place from what is plac'd in it,B. 2. Les. 2. N. 7. since Magnitudes between which no other interposes, even by that, are [Page] one together; now, that there should not be another between them is a certain negative notion and, by consequence, is not made by an Agent on set purpose, but follows out of the Action of a Body intending another thing, viz. from a body impelling.

7. But, the body impelling either it self changes place, without any other mutation, and then, it self, too, is impell'd; or else, from some other mutation only it receiv's the being impell'd, or, without impulse, to impell: Since, therefore, besides division, there are but two simple mutations, Rarefaction and Condensation, and condensation is both a negative action, as being the less'ning of Quantity, nor makes it the body aspire to anothers place; 'tis plain, there's no simple, properly call'd, action in bodies, but Rarefaction.

8. Since, therefore, 'tis clear, that the Action of an Intelligence is a simple and properly an Action, as, that which begins and causes the action of all other bodies; it comes to passe, that the proper Action of an Intelligence upon Bodies is Rarefaction: And, since ther's no other action, properly, upon a body, nor has an Intelligence any action upon any other thing [Page] but a body; it follows, that Rarefaction alone is the action of an Intelligence.

9. You'l ask, wherein consists this action of an Intelligence upon a body? or, what consequence is this, An Angel wills, therefore a Body is rarefy'd? 'Tis answer'd, out of what has been said, 'tis clear, that an Intelligence, by love or desire, ingrafts the thing to be done into Its own Essence and existence, in a particular manner, as if it were something of It self: whence, 'tis plain, that the Intelligence, by the act of its own being stands bent to the Body upon which 'tis to act, according to all the circumstances necessary, out of its own knowledge to the Effect.

10. On the other side, 'tis plain, both that the Body is susceptible of the desired effect, and that the effect follows out of, or rather, is but the eminency and excesse of its own act, or Form, that is, Quantity, upon matter, nay, of its commonest act or corporeity; as also, that the Body is, in some sort, continu'd to the Intelligence, by its Form or Substantiall act.

11. And, though the act of the Intelligence is of another kind, yet, because the notion of existence, to which both dispose, is the same; the act of the Body must [Page] needs, from the assistance of the Intelligence, grow, as it were, and be chear'd; and consequently, more overmaster its possibility; and, which follows, the Substance be made rarer, either to the transmutation of the Substantiall Form, or within the same nature.

12. We answer, again, 'Tis evident, that, precisely out of the notion of Understanding, ther's a connection between the understander and that which is understood: In such an one as receiv's his Science from the Objects, the Object is the cause of Understanding; in one whose Understanding is His being, the being of the thing understood is from the understanding; lastly, in one whose Understanding is neither his being, nor from the object, but concreated and naturall to him, the changes in that which is understood (if it admit of any without the change of existence) may be from him.

13. Next, from hence is understood the operation of a Body, wherein that consists, viz. in nothing else but in the formall power of existing what it is. For, let there be three bodies, A, B, C. following one another between the parallell sides of three places, or of one place equall to all the three; and [Page] let an Intelligence rarify A: since that cannot encrease, unlesse either B be diminish't or driven on, so long as 'tis easier for B to be condens'd then to drive on C, so long B will be condens'd; when 'tis arriv'd to the term of condensation, by little and little it encroaches into the place of C, and forces C to enter into the place of another; till 'tis come into so ample or condensable a field, that the rarefaction of A operates nothing else but condensing the farthest body, and then the motion ceases.

14. The operation, therefore, of A is, to be greater, whence follows A 's being united, according to some part of it, to the place of B: Again, the operation of B is, either to be made lesse and so only to quit its place, or else, keeping it self in its Quantity, to unite it self with the place of C: Since, therefore, to be united to the place of C is nothing else, but to be a Magnitude between which and the place of C ther's nothing interpos'd; the whole operation of B and A is no other, then to be what they are, by a kind of formall consistence.

15. Because, therefore, a body has no operation but division, 'tis plain, that the [Page] whole action of a body is reduc'd to Being what it is, or a formall consistency in its proportion of Quantity to Matter and its continuity to place; and, that its true power of acting is infus'd by Intelligences.

16. 'Tis plain, too, that an Intelligence, by that one rarefactive Vertue, can operate whatever is to be done by Bodies: For, since all corporeall action is perfected by division, and division is arriv'd to by this vertue, all action of a Body is attain'd to by this vertue.

LESSON XV.
Of the cooperation of the Agents, to the making of Substances, a rationall Soul, and to all other effects.

1. HEnce, we are arriv'd to the production of Substances: For, since some are produc'd out of nothing, some out of others preexisting; the former must, of necessity, have flow'd immediately from God: The Agent, [Page] therefore, which produces out of nothing, makes all the other qualities and conditions of the Thing, by the notion of existence: Existence, therefore, is first in execution; and, since the greater is not made for the lesse, it must be first, too, in intention.

2. Wherefore, since every Agent, by acting, endeavours to expresse its own essence upon the effect; the Essence of him that produces out of nothing must be Existence it self.

3. Nor is it to be expected, that another Creature should be made use of, as to preparing the matter; both because Existence is nobler then all the rest in a Thing, whence it admits not of any preparation for the rest, since preparations are only in the baser in order to a better: as also, because, existence being put, the Thing is already put: whence, the operation upon nothing is compleat by the very putting of existence, and consequently, of that cause alone which puts existence.

4. Supposing, then, that God has created certain Substances; and that, because, of themselves, they are defectible, they alwaies have that being from God; 'tis infer'd, that God perpetually poures out the power of being, as the Sun Light. Imagine, [Page] now, an accidentall transmutation on Body's part, (such as is explicated in our Physicall discourse), and, (as 'tis declared above) through certain changes, an arrivall to a constancy of being in another degree.

5. It must needs be, that, As, when the Earth is turn'd to the Sun or Wood laid on the Fire, from the perpetuall and minutable action of the Sun or Fire, joyn'd with the mutability of the Earth and Wood, sometimes one sometimes another part of the Earth will be enlightned, and sometimes one sometimes another part of the Wood will burn: So, supposing that naturall motions make Matter, in severall Sites, sometimes capable of a perfecter existence, sometimes of a more imperfect; from the same constant effusion of existence on Gods side, the Substance must needs be sometimes nobler, sometimes more ignoble, respectively.

6. Suppose, farther, an existent body so chang'd, that the matter may be capable of a Form which, in its essence, includes some notion, that exceeds the power of matter: is it not plain, that, out of the very same constant effusion of existence from God, a Substance will exist which will be, so, corporeall, [Page] that 'twill be, in some respect, Spirituall?

7. For, since the putting of existence puts a Thing; purely at the second causes determinating God to the position of such an existence, not that alone is put, but whatever follows out of it, though it exceed the power of second causes: And so, it appears, how, putting the generation of a Man, a rationall Soul is put; and how the power of nature so concurres to it, that yet the notion of Creation, or rather of con-creation, supervenes, and is necessary.

8. Lastly, how it both is and is-not ex traduce, and, at once, by Generation and Creation; and how, in this case, an Instrument, in some sort, is made use of for Creation.

9. And, because the internall Dispositions of a Soul, as, to know and to will, even they are indivisible, and follow out of the materiall impressions made upon the Body: it must needs be that, as the Soul it self follows out of the generation of Man, by the help of the universall Action of God; so these Dispositions, too, from the impression made upon the man, and from the nature of the Soul, must indivisibly alter the Soul.

[Page] 10. And, whoever would see an evident example of these things, let him conceive how, by cutting, a piece of wood is made more; for, all the time of the cutting, the figure is chang'd, yet the wood remains, by the same unity, one; but, indivisibly, the cutting being finisht, they are, now, two pieces of wood; without the dualities beginning at all, before, or any thing of its nature, but only some variation about the Figure.

11. Out of what has been said, we are deduc'd to see, how God performs all the works of the Creatures in them. For, first, if we speak of Intelligences, Since their internall operations are nothing else, but to be all other things after a certain manner; 'tis manifest, they are, actually, even to the uttermost positive circumstances, by force of their Creation.

12. For, by force of that, their essence is conjoyn'd to it self, as 'tis a cognoscitive vertue; and, out of this conjunction, the next divisibility, which is, of God to the same cognoscitive vertue, since all the causes are put, is, of necessity, in them.

13. And, what is said of this divisibility is, with the same facilnesse, discover'd of all the rest whatever; since they are all connected: [Page] their externall action, too, Matter, which is its subject, being put, follows, by force of their internall, without any other change in them.

LESSON XVI.
Of the government of God, and the locality of Incorporeall Things.

1. AS for the rest, the same way leads to the discovery that God is not the cause of any imperfection and not-being, or ill, which is in created things and their action: For, since the action of God is only to infuse Being, and this as much as the Creature is capable; 'tis plain, what there is of Being is to be attributed to God, but what ther's wanting of Being is to be refunded into the incapacity of the Subject.

2. And, since the defect of action proceeds out of the defect of the Principle, that is, out of some not-being in the principle; in the same manner, all defect in acting is to be reduc'd, likewise, into some defect in being of the Creature, and not into God, as its cause. Wherefore, God is the Authour of all Good, because all good [Page] is from being; but, of no ill, since ill is from not-being.

3. Consequently, 'tis evident, that God cannot annihilate any thing, or withdraw his concourse from the action of any Creature: For, to be able to annihilate is to be able to make a no-Thing; and, to withdraw his concourse is not to give Being to things created; either of which cannot happen, but from a defect of Goodnesse and of the overflowing, as it were, of Being in God.

4. You'l say, Therefore, God does not act freely ad extra, that is, upon the Creatures: But,Les. 8. this Consequence is to be deny'd; as 'tis said above, when we treated of the Liberty of God.

5. You'l say again, In the same manner, therefore, it must be said, that God cannot make any thing which He will not make. But, this Consequence, also, is deny'd; for, his Power is refer'd to possible things, or, which have entity and intelligibility; and therefore 'tis not to be deny'd that he can doe any thing that's possible; though, in another respect, it be impossible it should happen that He should, actually, make this.

6. But, the Power of God, which is [Page] the very notion of Being and Thing, has not, for its act, the not-being of any thing and not-acting; and therefore, 'tis not to be said, that He can give not-being, or can not-act.

7. Let us remember, now, that God understands all and every thing done by the Creatures, and wills all things which follow out of his operation; and, we have it, that God is Governour of the World, and that there can be no resistance against his Will.

8. For, since whatever is has its birth from his will, nor can there be any thing which is not effected by Him and His works; 'tis clear, whatever He wills not is not, nor can be so long as he wills not that it be.

9. Nor is it lesse evident, that neither the Contingency of naturall causes, nor the Liberty of rationall Creatures is infring'd, by this government of God. For, since Contingency is nothing else, but that the nature of the cause is such that it may and uses to be hindered, by other causes; and Liberty, that a Creature, upon the consideration of more proceeds to action: and, 'tis so manifest, that both these are in nature, and no waies touched by the operation of God (as that operation is explicated) [Page] that it needs only the remembring: 'tis clear, that the government of God is sweet, and offers no violence to the natures of naturall causes.

10. You'l object, that Propositions, concerning a future, whether contingent or free, Subject, are determinately true; especially, since they are known by God and are predefin'd: wherefore, the effect cannot not-be: there is, therefore, no either contingency or liberty; whether this happens out of the force of Contradiction, or of the irrefragable will of God.

11. 'Tis answer'd, 'tis false that Propositions concerning a future contingent have a determinate truth: for, since a man speaks out of consideration of causes, the Sense of his proposition is What the causes may bear: Nor imports it, whether it be pronounc'd actively or passively; as if you should say, what the causes will act, or what effect will be made by them; for, it signifies still the same.

12. If it be, therefore, ask'd, what men mean by such propositions, 'twill rain, 'twill be hot, Socrates will be angry or go to Sea, &c? 'tis clear, they mean to explicate effects, as in defectible causes, and consequently, they have no determinate truth. [Page] But, if it be ask'd, what the proposition will signify, if it be referr'd immediately to the effect, as it sounds? 'tis answer'd, no sensible man uses to speak so or make such propositions; and so it belongs not to the present question. But, if there be suppos'd such a power of Contradiction in the Objects, as to determine the truth of propositions; all things must fall out by the necessity of Fate and be from themselves,Les. 5. n. 9, 10. which is, above, sufficiently demonstrated impossible.

13. 'Tis plain, lastly, that this action of God, by which He moves a Creature, is miscall'd a Concourse; since such a word leads the hearer into an apprehension of a certain equality in acting, between God and a Creature: 'Tis, therefore, more properly call'd premotion or predetermination; since God makes us doe even to every the least positive circumstance of action.

14. 'Tis collected, too, out of what has been said, how God is said to act in all things, both by the immediation of his Suppositum or Substance and of his Vertue; but, an Intelligence upon one body only by the immediation of Its Substance, upon the rest by the immediation only of Its vertue.

[Page] 15. For, since the action of God is the influx of Being it self, and nothing can act without Being, nor Being flow from any but God; God must needs immediately act upon all Substances by Creating and Conserving them: and consequently, in such his acting, no third Substance intervenes between Him and the Creature. Again, the action of all bodies proceeding from Intelligences, and They being made act by God; the vertue of God makes every thing act, and so is more immediate to the effect then the vertue of the nearest cause: whence also, God is, by the immediation of his vertue, more immediate, then the next cause which produces the action.

16. But, an Intelligence, which immediately rarifies A, moves not B, but by the mediation of A; the Suppositum A, therefore, is between the Intelligence and B; wherefore, the Intelligence acts not, by the immediation of Its Suppositum, upon B: But, because A's being rarify'd is the cause that A moves B; and A is rarify'd by the vertue of the Intelligence; the vertue of the Intelligence makes B be mov'd by A; the vertue, therefore, of the Intelligence, not the Suppositum, is immediate to B.

[Page] 17. And, hence it follows, that God is said to be Immense; but, an Intelligence to be definitively in Place: For, since nothing either is or can be without Existence, 'tis clear, neither can there be any Place, upon which God does not, immediately, act: but, an Intelligence, having a determinate proportion to a body, so acts upon a certain quantity, that it cannot, together and at once, immediately act upon another. Since, therefore, incorporeall Things are not in Place circumscriptively; an Intelligence must be definitively, but God, without end, in all Place, by immediate operation.

LESSON XVII.
Of the Conservation of Creatures, and the Durations of Things.

1. TIs clear, too, out of what has been said, that this action of God is the conservation of things, both as to their Substance, and as to their intrinsecall Accidents: For, since the essence of created things has not, of it self, a necessary conjunction with Being, but such an one [Page] as may, of its own nature, be lost; 'tis plain, they are not conjoyn'd, by force of their own notions, for that time during which they may be not-conjoyn'd; and, by consequence, as long as they are conjoyn'd, they have this, to be conjoyn'd, from an extrinsecall; they, therefore, remain conjoyn'd by an Extrinsecall power.

2. But, 'tis of the same nature, to be conjoyn'd and to remain conjoyn'd, or, to be for any duration conjoyn'd; they have, therefore, this from the same cause and vertue: and, since 'tis not any change, but, on the contrary, the effect is that nothing should be chang'd; by the very same action, too, they keep their being, which is, to be conserv'd. The same action of God, therefore, is Conservation, in respect of Substances:B. 1. Les. 5. N. 8, 9. And, since 'tis declar'd above, that intrinsecall Accidents are nothing else but manners of Substance; the Substance being conserv'd, 'tis clear, that they also are conserv'd in their Being.

3. Out of what has been said, too, we may know, what Action signifies in the effect it self: And, if the question be of the [Page] Divine action, as it immediately flows from God, 'tis plain, that 'Tis the very Substance it self; not only, because it cannot be subjected in a Substance, which subsists no otherwise then by it; nor, because the existence of Things form'd out of our conceits is universally rejected; but also, because any intermediate action (such as the Moderns feign the Making) which should be put, serves to no purpose.

4. For, either God, before this action, is determin'd in himself to act, that is, that this action should follow from Him, or, He is not; if not, this action will not follow, for, from an indifferent nothing follows; but, if He be determin'd, this action has not the power of determining Him, for which the Opponent requires it as necessary: but, the effect can, as immediately, follow out of Himself, as this action. And, this same discourse holds against the like fictitious action, too, of Creatures.

5. Again, in as much as the action of God is Conservation, 'tis nothing but the very Being of the thing conserv'd. For, first, the Duration of an Incorporeall thing cannot be divisible; for, if it were divisible, 'twould be continuate and divisible without end: either, therefore, some part, [Page] together and at once, in an incorporeall, that is, indivisible thing, or not: if together, that part will not include succession; if not, no part can ever be.

6. And, this Argument has not lesse force in a Corporeall Creature; for, though it be divisible in extension, yet, 'tis indivisible in succession, and consequently, it cannot sustain together more parts of successive duration.

7. Again, if, to endure be, for the same thing to be the same it was; is it not clear, ther's nothing requir'd but a non-mutation? and, on the other side, that, of two things which exist, if one perish, that's said to be chang'd; that which endures remaining still unchang'd? There is, therefore, no novelty in permanency.

8. Moreover, to change the existence, the Essence, too, must needs be chang'd, since, 'tis the aptest capacity of existence: the notion, therefore, of Substance will be in perpetuall change and instable, and consequently, out of God, nothing stable.

9. You'l object, Since 'tis often said, that a Creature may not-be, and yet, whilst it is, it cannot not-be; 'tis manifest, that its cannot not-be, or, to be whilest it is, successively supervenes [Page] to a Creature: Since, therefore, ther's a greater necessity of indivisibility, on God's part, then on a Creature's; the succession is to be concluded on the Creatures side.

10. 'Tis answer'd, 'Tis just contrary: for, as, if the action of God were put (by way of imagination) to be successive, no man would require any other succession, to understand the duration of a Creature; so, if the action of God be put equivalent to continually successive, no man can complain of the unintelligibility of Duration.

11. Because, therefore, the action of God is conformable to His existence, and His existence indivisibly comprehends the past and future; it must needs be that the action, as it is the internall determination of God, in the same manner comprehends succession. This action, therefore, actuates the Creature, with a certain indivisibility that eminentially contains divisibility; and, without any divisibility, makes the existence of a Creature, by contradiction, impossible to be taken away successively; yet, without any more then a vertuall succession intervening in the Creature.

[Page] 12. For, what has formally the vertue which is in succession, can as well perform this as succession it self: but, such, we have said, is the action of God: whence, 'tis plain, that, even from this effect, the notion of Gods Eternity is demonstrated à posteriori.

13. Hence, 'tis deduc'd, that the duration of corporeall and spirituall Substances is, intrinsecally different: Since, corporeall Substances have, from the notion of Matter, an intrinsecall possibility to not-be; and consequently, a weaker connection to Being, intrinsecally, out of their own nature; but duration consists in the connection of existence and essence, as to the effect of permanence.

14. Adde to this, that there are, in nature, causes which destroy Bodies, but, there are none which are able to infest Spirituall Substances: whence, since God destroyes nothing, of Himself, Intelligences are absolutely immortall, as also, separated Souls; and Bodies, when motion ceases, will be immortall accidentally, in the mean time they are simply mortall, unlesse perhaps there are some exempt from the generall order.

15. Out of what has been said, too, [Page] both the notion and difference of three Durations is evident:B. 2. Les. 3. N. 3. of Time explicated at the beginning: of Eternity, when we treated of God:Les. 6. N. 14, 15. lastly, of Eviternity in Intelligences.

LESSON XVIII.
Of the manner of Action, on the Subject's side.

1. THe solution, also, of that old Question is evident, Why God made not the World before? For, if we consider, that ther's no beginning of an Infinite, and that, where ther's no beginning, there can be no determinate distance from the beginning; it will appear, that 'tis impossible there should be any eternall flux of Time or instants, (even by imagination), wherein there can be taken a now and then, and any constant difference of duration, or, something to be before, something after, determin'd.

2. Wherefore, such a Question proceeds from the weaknesse and infirmity of our [Page] understanding, and signifies nothing; and consequently, bears no answer: For, for God to make this world before, in time, that he made it, would be to have made a world before a world; since, the time of the beginning of the world is nothing else but the very motion, with which the world began to be mov'd.

3. In like manner, evident is the solution of that question, Whether God could make a permanent Thing (that is, whose essence includes not succession) from all eternity? For, if there be no quiddity or possibility of an infinite in succession; 'tis clear, that God could not so make a Creature, that it should have Eternity, by relation to infinite succession: Therefore, not otherwise then by some positive eminence confer'd on it: Since, therefore, Duration consists in the connection of existence to a Thing, He could no otherwise make a Creature from Eternity, then by giving it such a connection by which, simply, it could not not-be, wherein consists the very Eternity it self of God. Clearly, therefore, 'tis impossible that even a permanent Thing could have been from Eternity.

4. But, as for the not-immediate action of God, or (which is all one) as 'tis [Page] the same with the action of the Creature, 'tis plain, the same account is to be given as of the action of the Creature. And, of these, Philosophers have pronounc'd, that Action is something between the Agent and effect: as, in the change of Place, between the Rest in the term whence and the term whether, there interven's motion; which they falsely imagine to be more beings-in-place successively, since, as Aristotle has demonstrated, all that time the movable happens not to be in a place equall to it, whereas, yet, equality is of the very notion of Place.

5. So, too, in other mutations, especially that which is call'd Substantiall generation, the Subject, by the precedent motion, which properly is the very action, is not, neither actually nor in part, in the term it self; but is chang'd only in its Quality.

6. So, too, it falls out in Rarefaction, which is immediately from an Intelligence: for, since the proportion of an Intelligence to a Body is finite; It cannot, instantaneously, reduce a body to any how-little-soever-a degree of rarity: wherefore, there must of necessity, between It prepar'd for action and the term, intervene [Page] some motion; during which, the body rarify'd is neither in any determinate degree of rarity, nor in any determinate Place.

7. Out of all which, this, at length, is concluded, what a kind of being Passion or mutation has in the Subject: for, since 'tis repugnant, the Formall parts in a Compound should be actuall; they must be only in possibility or power, and some other third thing, resolvable into parts, actually exist.

8. This third thing, therefore, has a certain resolvable and changeable nature; wherefore, 'tis clear, there is some cause which has the power of changing it: Let B, therefore, be the changeable nature, A the changing cause; if A be apply'd to B, must not B, of necessity, become another thing then it was, that is, be chang'd?

9. This is, therefore, for B to have suffered by means of A, viz. to become another thing then it was: another thing, I say, or altered; for, if nothing perceivable remain, 'tis become another thing; but, if there remain whereby it may be mark'd to be this same as was before, 'tis only altered, because the foundation, or, that which is the sustainer still remaines, [Page] but 'tis innovated in some respect.

10. For example, Let there be a Gallon of water in a Cubicall vessell, and (to avoid dispute about a thing that concerns us not) let's suppose the Figure to be nothing else, but that that very quantity, according to its three dimensions, be no farther extended then, actually, 'tis; (which conceit, being purely negative, can adde nothing to the quantity): let the same water, then, be suppos'd in a vessell of another figure; and consequently, it self, too, to have put on other limits: Since the former terms were nothing but the very Quantity of the water, neither can the later differ from it.

11. 'Tis evident, therefore, that this Quantity, remaining a Gallon, (which is its difference, whereby, as quan-tity, 'tis limited), has a possibility to be, now Pyramidall, now Cubicall; and consequently, is changeable, no Thing being chang'd: To this possibility, therefore, if the power of two such vessells be suppos'd successively apply'd; 'tis clear, purely upon the water's and their conjunction, there follows a change in the Quantity of the water, by little and little, and, at length, what in one vessell was of one figure, [Page] in another becomes of another, chang'd according to the manner, unchang'd according to the notion of Quantity.

12. Thus, Substances become altered, according to Qualities, the Quantity unchang'd; according to Quantity, the Substance unchang'd; according to Substance, the Matter remaining: for no other cause, but that the Subject or that which suffers is so mutable, and an Efficient, which has the power of changing, is apply'd.

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A THEOLOGICALL APPENDIX, Of The BEGINNING Of the WORLD. Wherein, 'tis essay'd how subservient Philosophy is to Divinity.

Same AUTHOUR.

Cant. 1.

Equitatui meo in curribus Pharaonis assimilavi te, Amica mea.

Printed in the Year, 1656.

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To the READER.

SInce Philosophy has then attain'd its Dignity, when, apply'd to Action, it renders Man better, that is, more Man; and Christians are initiated to this by Divinity: this, evidently, is the highest pitch of Philosophy, to wait on and be subservient to the Traditions deriv'd from God. Wherefore, I saw it absolutely necessary, to fortify the Institutions, I would recommend to Thee, with a subsignation of Theology. Nor was I long to seek whether I should first addresse my self: For, when, after the Notions of Nature digested in common, I had expos'd the same in a Collection of the World, as it were, in an Example; by the same rule, having exhibited the Action of Things, like a sceleton, in its Principles, in the last Book of Metaphysick, I saw my self oblig'd to vest It, in the CREATION, with the Nature due to It. And, since in the [Page] ancient Theology, we had this accurately decyphered, beyond the Attempts of Philosophers; but untraceable, because the Paths of Nature were unknown: It seem'd to me, a more expresse Seal of Theologicall Approbation could not be desir'd, then that the Institutions should carrie a Torch before the Mysteries of Genesis; and, from those so discover'd, receive themselves, with advantage; the Glory and Splendor of Authority. What more? I essay'd: thou seest the Issue; which I wish may benefit Thee.

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A Theologicall Appendix.
Of THE BEGINNING OF THE WORLD.

CHAP. I.
A Philosophicall discourse, concerning the Creation of Heaven and Earth.

1.SInce we find by universall experience, without any exception, that, not only the Operations, but, even the very Subsistence of all bodily Substances is by continued steps brought from possibility to be in act; nor can we doubt that the parts and the whole are of the same nature; 'tis evident, the Beginning of the Universe it self, if we suppose it manag'd according to the nature of Bodies, must proceed by the same rule; that, from the nearest power and possibility in [Page] which it could be, it has been rip'ned by degrees to this excellent beauty, and did not by instantaneous Creation immediately start into perfection.

2. Because, therefore, God subsists by the very necessity of Being it self, and in Being it self there can be nothing of imperfection, 'tis clear, that His ultimate intrinsecall formality and free act preexists before, not only the existence, but even, the very essence of all and every Creature, as much as whatever is most essentiall in Him.

3. As also that this Being, which they have receiv'd from God, is the nature of the Creatures, nor can they otherwise flow from God then according to their naturall condition. Especially, since God acts not to attain an end prefix'd to himself; but this is His end, (if we may call any thing an end in respect of God) that the Creatures should be, so, as, in his Essence, Science and Will, He has predesin'd their determinate nature fixed and inviolably to be; that the whole Universe might emane His most beautifull Image, and, in a manner, a most adequate participation of Himself.

4. So that, all things that are to have [Page] their most connaturall quality, as far as it can stand, impartially, with the perfection of their fellow bodies; this is that which God will'd, and what, in effect, he has brought to passe.

5. Be this, therefore, firmly establisht, that God not instantaneously, but by a congruous disposition of diverse degrees brought up the world from its deepest possibility, that is, its simplest and fewest principles, to its due perfection.

6. Again, because neither materia prima nor any other part of a Thing, but only Physicall Compound, is apt to receive Exiastence: and, of Physicall Compounds the most simple and, as it were, most poten, tiall, that is, next above mere possibility, are the Elements: and something must, of necessity, have flow'd instantaneously from God: It follows, that some one or more of the Elements were, by Creation, call'd by God out of the common Abysse of nothingnesse.

7. But not one only Element was created. For, since Motion does not follow out of the sole vertue of Creation: nor could Motion be without Division; nor Division without a Substantiall difference of the divider from the divided; nor this be [Page] made, even by Angelicall vertue, without time: it follows that more Elements were created immediately by God.

8. Yet not all the four: Since FIRE we call an Element that makes it self be seen, which implyes Action; but corporeall action is not without motion; nor motion from pure Creation.

9. But, of the other three Elements no one could be conveniently omitted: For EARTH and WATER are those we see mixt by Fire through the whole course of Nature; and Fire is immediately generated and nourished by AIRE: If any one therefore, of these three had been wanting; the matter had been unfit for Angelicall operation.

10. Three Elements, therefore, were created; nor those confus'd in a Chaos: for such a confusion had not exhibited the most simple matter, but a disorder'd multitude of mixt things; since mixt things emerge from a mere confusion of the Elements.

11. Earth, therefore, was the inmost, as the densest and of constant nature: Aire was the outmost, as the most opposite to Earth: the middle both Nature and Place water possess'd.

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CHAP. II.
An Explication of GENESIS concerning the same.

1. LEt's see, now, whether the Christians most ancient Theology, deriv'd from the Hebrews, speaks consonantly to this. God (saies it) in the Beginning created the Heaven and the Earth. The Beginning, saies, not so much a precedency to things that follow'd, since it self was something of what was began; as that nothing was before it. Admirably, therefore, by this term, 'tis express'd, that the Creation of Heaven and Earth was, so, instantaneous and, in a manner, before the rest; that neither any Time interven'd, nor was it self in Time. It shews, therefore, that they were created out of nothing; and that, instantaneously; and, that the rest immediately follow'd out of these once put.

2. Nor can it be doubted what it calles Heaven and Earth, since the name of Earth is immediately us'd afterwards: whence, 'tis evident, that, by the remaining name [Page] of Abysse, is express'd what before was call'd Heaven; otherwise, the sacred Text is confused and imperfect.

3. 'Tis added, that the Earth was void and empty; according to the Hebrew expression, solitude and emptinesse, or rather, of solitude and emptinesse; for, so, the Hebrews often expresse their Adjectives. The sense is clear, that neither were there men upon the Earth, whose properties are fellowship and conversation, the privation whereof makes Solitude; nor Plants and Animals, which, as bodies and utensils, might fill the place and house of humane habitation.

4. It follows, that Darknesse was upon the face of the Abysse. The word Abysse, says a Gulph of waters whose bottom is unknown, or not reach'd; and because the most simple manner of reaching is by Sight, it properly signifies such a depth of water, that Sight cannot reach its bottom. Wherefore, the sense is most easie, that, what it had formerly call'd Heaven was a vast diaphanous body, upon which there was no Fire to enlighten it. It affirms, therefore, directly, that Fire was not created.

5. But it subjoyns two parts of the Abysse, whilst it says, and the Spirit of the [Page]Lord was born upon the waters. Clearly, therefore, it affirms three Elements, EARTH, WATER and AIRE, were Created by God; but not FIRE. And, that they were not confus'd is evident, in that, otherwise, it had not been an Abysse, that is, a capacity of Light, and a privation; since by the commixtion of Earth the other Elements had been rendered opake: Moreover, the Spirits being born upon the waters denotes a distinction of Places between the other two Elements.

6. But 'tis observable that the word, was born, according to the force of the Originall term, speci [...]ies that motion whereby Birds sustain themselves with open wings over their nests, least they should crush their young ones; and yet, to defend them from the cold. Whence, a certain person amongst the Hebrews explicates it, not weighing upon, touching, but not striking: wherefore, the Aire cover'd the water, but press'd it not. 'Tis plain, therefore, that according to the propriety of the expression, 'tis specifi'd, there was as yet no Gravitie, and that the Aire is the first of the Elements whose property it is to have any heat in it. 'Tis evident, therefore, ther's no gravitie in the Aire, of its own nature; [Page] and consequently, that 'tis not an intrinsecall Quality in the other Elements, but is in them from the operation of Fire and the order of Agents.

CHAP. III.
A Philosophicall discourse of the vvorks of the tvvo first daies.

1. THe Matter of the World being Created, it remains that we see what follow'd, by the additional operation of Creatures. And because the operation of Angels is no other then rarefaction: & nature wanted its naturall instrument, viz. Fire; for This we see principally made use of for almost all naturall effects, especially, the generation of Substances: and This is not rais'd out of Water and Earth immediately without first becoming Aire: it must be, that the Angels or Angel whose task this was, by rarefying the Aire rais'd a vast Fire.

2. And since there are many sorts of Fire; and that, which, far from the fiery body, smoaks no longer, but shoots out directly with pure rayes, is, by a speciall [Page] name, call'd Light: Light must needs have been made by the Angels, through the rarefaction of pure Aire, as, from which no Smoak rises.

3. Nor is it lesse certain, this must be done in the very confines of Aire and water. For, since the Angels could not in an instant convert Aire into Light; and a locall motion of the neighbouring bodies follows upon rarefaction; the Aire must needs have been mov'd whilst 'twas yet in the form of Aire: and since motion cannot be without a plurality of Substances, 'tis plain that the Aire divided the water; and consequently, the first Fire was rais'd in the confines of both.

4. Since, therefore, the Fire being rais'd, of necessity, acted upon the water; it follows, that the Waters being stir'd, those particles to which the Fire stuck, (being rarer then the rest, and coveting still a larger place), by their own and the denser parts of the Water's motion, must needs be thrust out into the Aire, which is more yielding: and those excluded, be aggregated together, specially towards the Light, where, by reason of the more vehement action, there must needs be greatest abundance of them: and, more [Page] flowing from one side then another, (since naturall causes work not rigorously even), the whole masse of Water, and Earth adhering to it, by little and little attain a motion towards the same Light; so that, successively and by parts, it rol'd in a Circle and was enlightned, having in some places Night in others Day.

5. Besides, another effect must evidently have follow'd from this production of Light, viz. a vast abundance of Clouds be rais'd up into the Aire, which, by the circulation of the Light about the inferiour Globe, must necessarily be remov'd a vast distance from the Globe it self and the Light: Whence, being no longer sensible of the Globe's attraction, they could not, by any order of Causes, be remitted back towards the Globe. Thus, therefore, ther's a vast space establisht, between the waters in the Globe, whence the Clouds were extracted, and between those very Clouds themselves; which may keep them from one another separate for ever or, at least, till the end of the World.

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CHAP. IV.
An explication of Genesis concerning the same.

1. WHat says Theology to this? It says, And God said, Let there be Light; and LIGHT was made. Speech and command are address'd to another: clearly, therefore, it reaches that, by the intermediate operation of Angels, Light was made.

2. And it was made, clearly shews that the making immediately and instantly began, viz. that there was no delay in the intermediate Instrument; wherefore, that 'twas an Incorporeall Substance which needed not be mov'd that it might move: Moreover, the word he said, which implyes Knowledge, declares it to have been an Intelligent Instrument.

3. It adds, And God saw the Light that it was good. Goodnesse is perfection: namely, because the nature of the Elements, by the addition of Fire, was compleat and perfected; therefore, Light is said to be good: Again, because the rest of the Elements [Page] were passive, and Light active; therefore Light is call'd good or perfect: for, what has attain'd an aptitude to produce or make its like, is esteem'd perfect, in its kind.

4. It follows, And he divided the light from the darknesse &c. 'Tis plain, this division was made, not by Place but by Time, since Day and Night are parts of Time: and consequently, that motion or the diurnall conversion was now begun; which is declar'd by those words, and he call'd the light Day and the darknesse Night. For, since, as yet, Man was not, to whom words might be significant; He call'd is as much as he establisht the Essence of Day and Night: for, a name or appellation denotes the essence or quiddity of the Thing nam'd.

5. 'Tis added, and the Evening and the Morning was made one Day: in the originall Text, and the Evening was made and the Morning was made, or, the Evening was and the Morning was. From which Phrase 'tis understood, that this motion had, for its term whence, the Evening, and for its term whether, the Morning; and consequently, that the motion was made in a Subject to which it agrees to have Evening and Morning, that is, in the Earth; [Page] and that it was from West to East, that is, towards the Light.

6. Again, And God said, let there be a FIRMAMENT in the midst of the Waters, and let it divide the Waters from the Waters: In the Hebrew, an Expansion. Either word is properly taken, since it was a Space unpassable for its vastnesse and expansion, and, by consequence, fixed, and fixing the division of the Waters.

7. But those words in the midst of the waters are to be noted; which teach, that no Substance was made a new, but only between the waters and the waters: which is evident, too, from the word, Heaven; which name he gave the Firmament; by which very word, 'tis express'd, that, before, God created the Heaven. The Etymology also of the word is to be noted; which, both in the Hebrew and Greek Idiom, signifies as much as whence the waters, or, whence or where it drops: that it may be evidenc'd, even from the name, that the Aire it self is the Firmament.

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CHAP. V.
A Philosophicall discourse of the vvorks of the other four days.

1. FArther, by the operation of this vast Fire, not only the Water, but much of the Earth, too, with the Water must needs have been rais'd up. For, Chymists know that the intense heat of fire can raise up and carry away crasse Oyls and Oyntments; nay even Salts and very Gold it self. Since, therefore, the Earth, before the operation of Light, was dissolv'd in minutest parts and Dust, as, void of all Moisture: it must needs be that the Heat mix'd every where the Water with Earth; and thus all muddy carry'd it up into the Aire; but, most of all, about those parts over which the Fire perpendicularly hung.

2. Whence, 'tis plain, two Effects must needs have risen: one, that the Earth in that Circle should become more hollowed and low then in the rest of its Superficies; the other, that the Water, from the remoter places, should flow into these hollownesses: [Page] whether by the attraction of the Fire; or by naturall connection; or by some power of Gravity, which, through the operation of the Fire, by little and little, attain'd a force.

3. 'Tis plain, therefore, that, since the motion of the Earth was, of necessity, by the greatest Circle: the Earth, by the course of the foresaid causes, must be drain'd and dry'd first about the Poles of that Circle; and the waters gathered together in the empty hollownesse under that Circle.

4. I said, by the course of the foresaid causes: for, if we consider what was likely to be done by accident, this consequence will not be universally necessary. For, 'tis clear, that the Earth by the boyling of the water, being unequally mixt and remixt, with continuall agitation; must, according to the law of contingency, have produc'd, by the meeting of different parts, as many kinds and species of Earths, as we see diversities of Fossils; which we divide, generally, into four kinds, Stones, Metalls, Mold, and concrete Iuyces.

5. And, since, from the varieties, also, of those great parts of that masse now tempered with water, a notable variety must [Page] needs follow; the Earth, yet cover'd with Waters, may easily here and there have boyl'd up into Excrescencies; as Islands have often grown up in the Sea. By this irregularity, therefore, some Mountains growing, may have appear'd before the Polar Regions of the Earth.

6. From the same principles, it follows, that the Earth did not appear wholly squallid and desart, but already impregnated with the Seeds of all things: nor with Seeds only, but with Plants, too; those especially which either require or can endure more moisture; the rest, by little and little, as the dryer Earth grew more apt and fitly dispos'd for their birth, they, too, sprung out.

7. And, because an Animal is nothing but a more-compounded Plant: by the same reason, the Earth, then most aptly tempered and dispos'd, brought forth perfect Animals; as it now being barrener, of its own accord, produces such as we call insecta, as Mice and Frogs, and sometimes new fashion'd Animals.

8. But, because the waters must needs have been very muddy, even They, before the Earth, must have sprung into Animals fit to inhabit them; viz. Fishes, [Page] small and great; as also into certain middle Animals, which might fly up to the higher parts of the Earth, that is Birds: as, even now, we see all kind of Birds that are bred of Putrefaction, by the Sea shores and Lake's sides, grow out of the rottennesse of wood tempered with water.

9. 'Twas necessary, too, that, by the force of that mighty Flame, parts of Earth and Water of a vast bulk, carry'd up above the Aire, should, by naturall attraction and the power of the baking Fire, coagulate into many vast Bodies: whereof, some should more abound with fiery vertue, and therefore, both conceive and belch out abundance of Flames; so that being entirely lucid they should be apt to enlighten other bodies, too, within a fit distance: and, that others, lesse abounding with fiery parts, should be fit in a congruous order and method, to be concocted and enlightened by Them; and themselves, too, be able to reflect light from the former to the rest.

10. Wherefore, were they set & moved in a convenient site to the Earth now inhabited, they might alwaies more or lesse enlighten it: nor would there be any longer need of that vast light made by the [Page] Angels. And this formation of things the Aegyptians, Aethiopians, Empedocles and other naturall Philosophers, as it were, by the conduct of Nature, out of the very steps and order of Generation which they still observ'd in nature, have emulated and attempted, though not throughly attain'd.

CHAP. VI.
An Explication of Genesis concerning the same.

1. THe sacred Commentaries, concerning these things, tell us thus, And God said, let the Waters which are under the Heaven be gathered together into one place, and let the dry Land appear. Here is the first mention made of gravity, whose effect is said to be, to congregate into one place: that we may see Gravity is not a motion towards any particular Site, but towards the unity of a body; and that it was made out of the Order of the Universe now establisht, after that, between the acting Light and the Earth upon which it acted, a great distance full of Aire was interpos'd, wherein the motion of things [Page] ascending and descending might be free.

2. Iob 38. 'tis said, that the Sea flow'd, as it were, out of a womb; whence 'tis understood that the Earth throughly moistned with Water, sweat out on all sides, into the lower Vaults, and increas'd the Water, where, by the extreme force of the light, it had been too much suck'd out; and so left the Earth in its due temperament. Whence ther's evidenc'd, another cause, too,Chap. 5. N. 5. besides what we have explicated of the Earths appearing, viz. because, by the permixtion of hot water, it swel'd into a far greater bulk.

3. It follows, and God call'd the dry, Land, and the gathering together of the waters he call'd Seas: For, it was not Earth in the same sense wherein, at the beginning, 'twas said God created the Heaven and the Earth; for, there, the Element of Earth was call'd Earth, but here a certain mixt body consisting of infinite variety. And, for the same cause, he call'd the Firmament, Heaven: for, at the beginning, Heaven signifi'd Aire and Water in the purity of their natures; but, here, a mixt body made of the Elevation of the Waters with the Aire.

4. We understand farther, because the [Page] waters are commanded to be congregated into one place, and yet the effect is call'd Seas; the waters, which, from that mighty celestiall fire, had contracted Saltnesse, though, to appearance, they possesse severall places, yet have a communion between themselves & truly constitute one place, though outwardly interrupted: as 'tis evident of most of them, out of Cosmographicall History.

5. It follows, And God said, let the Earth bring forth the green herbs and which produces Seed &c. Whence 'tis understood, that the generation of Plants proceeded from the very springing fecundity of the Earth, through the activity of so much heat; without any extraordinary and miraculous concourse of God. For, if, in fifteen daies, Plants ripen under the Equator, which, with us, require a three moneths space for their generation; what doubt, but, much more copiously and sooner they started out of the womb of the Earth justly tempered by the operation of Angels?

6. Nor need we believe, because the Plants were perfect, therefore Oaks and such like Trees must have been at the full strength which they attain not under an intire Age: for, it suffices, that the barren [Page] Trees yielded Shade and the fruitfull their Fruits, against the sixth Day.

6. The Text goes on, Let there be Lights in the Firmament of Heaven, and let them divide the day and the night. And, even from hence, 'tis evident that the office of Light created the first day, was to dry the Earth; which being done, there was no longer need of so mighty a Fire, and therefore the Angels ceas'd from that operation.

8. There appears, again, the difference between that Light and the Sun: for the Sun is not call'd light, but a light'ner, as a Candle or a Torch, wherein one part is flame and another fuel of the flame, or that yields the light. It appears, therefore, that the SUN is a concrete of combustible matter, and a certain Vulcanian Globe all over full of pits vomiting flames: and, that it receiv'd the office of the former light, which was to divide between the day and the night.

9. But, in that 'tis said, in the firmament of Heaven (the Originall expression has it, in the expansion of Heaven, or of that whence the waters) 'tis evident, these lights were plac'd in the Aire; and that ther's no difference of nature between the Firmament wherein the Stars, and that wherein the [Page] Clouds and Birds are, and, consequently, that neither are there any Sphears in which the Fixed Stars should be, but they are mov'd as Fishes in the water.

10. Upon which grounds, 'twill not be hard to believe them made of Waters rais'd up out of the Earth; as the 103 or 104 Psalm clearly teaches: For, where our text has it, who covers with waters its upper parts, (viz. of Heaven), the Hebrew has, who framest its chambers of waters: Chambers are lodgings or abiding places aloft; the Stars therefore (if indeed there are any People in them) are elegantly call'd the chambers of Heaven: and they are said to be fram'd of water, that is, built and compacted; the watry parts, commixt with which the terrestriall were rais'd up, partly being drain'd into the concavities, (as we said concerning our Sea), partly keeping a consistency about the globes to thicken the Aire, partly remaining in them, for a due mixtion sake, according to the variety of the parts of the Globes.

11. But, that the Angels, which before kindled the Light, were divided amongst the Stars; especially the Suns (whereof, 'tis evident, there are many) Iob shews by those words, when ask'd where wast thou [Page]when the morning Stars marched triumphantly, or, exulted alike or together; and all the sons of God sounded their trumpets? that is, when the morning stars began to be mov'd (as, in the Psalm, 'tis said of the Sun, he rouz'd up himself as a Giant, to run his course), that is, stars making morning or light; to which conjoining the sons of God, he teaches that each of them had its Angel, to excite their first motion, as it were sounding the Alarm and giving the sign for motion, or, making the start and first impression. And this interpretation is best accommodated both to the Hebrew words and to the matter whereof He spake: and the word, together, shews that, in one day they all began their motion.

12. The holy Authour adds the End of these Lights, that they might be eminent day and night, for so the originall propriety has it, where our text saies to rule over; that is, that they might be very conspicuous: And, for Signs, or, according to the force of the originall word, Miracles or Prodigies; that is, that they might make men admire; whence by little and little they might be elevated from terrestriall things, to know God and his works, and worship him.

[Page] 13. Lastly, for days and years. Whence, 'tis deduc'd, that the Earth had been hitherto mov'd only about its own Centre; but, from thenceforward, began to be mov'd under the Ecliptick; viz. Because the motion made by the first fire was so violent, that the waters were only drawn towards the light, or if any mov'd any other way, they were so few, that they were in no measure able to alter the course towards the light: But, the force of the Sun being far lesse, did so make the Waters move about the Earth, that yet the impulse of the returning Waters was notable; whence the Earth was mov'd about the Sun in a line mixt, in a manner, of a Circular and a right.

CHAP. VII.
Some Animadversions about the Text of the first Chapter of Genesis.

1. FRom the whole Story 'tis evident that our Earth is situated in the very middle of the Universe. For, since all the rest of the World was form'd [Page] by evaporation from the Globe whereof our Earth was the Centre; & this, by Fire intermediate between the Earth & the other parts of the World: 'tis evident, that the rest of the world is, with a certain equality, remote from it, and consequently, that it is plac'd in the midst.

2. Which I would not have so understood, as if the Centre of the Earth were the very middle point; but, that the Great Orbe, (that is, all that Orbe, which the Earth makes with its circle about the Sun) has the notion of a Centre: for, that it scarce makes a visible Magnitude, in respect of the rest of the world, Astronomers find by experience.

3. Adde to this a conjecture from the Phaenomena's. For, the Zodiack is fuller of great and conspicuous Stars then the other parts of the Heavens; as it must of necessity have happened, if the World began, after the manner we have explicated: Besides, of all those Stars which are illuminated from our Sun, the Earth alone is carry'd under the Ecliptick, that is, through the middle of the very Zodiack, to whose course the rest seem to yield and give place.

4. In the middle, between the generation [Page] of Plants and Animals, the Celestiall bodies are reck'ned: because they are compacted of the crassest evaporations; and therefore, ought not to be counted, 'till the Earth had already shew'd it self, wherewith the generation of Plants was conjoyn'd; but, before Animals, because they are not animated themselves, but are only for animated things: And, because they are adventitious to the Earth, as helps; before that Animals were created, but especially Man, for whom the Earth was chiefly made, (who, yet, is but a kind of Animal, and therefore ought to be generated together with the rest), 'twas necessary a habitation should be prepar'd, and consequently, furnisht with lights.

5. From the same order 'tis deduc'd, that Plants are not said to be animated or living, in the same sense as Animals: Since Animals have in themselves the principle of their encreasing; but Plants are fill'd from without, from the order of the Universe.

6. Now, three things are to be remark'd concerning the explicated Texts. First, that God saw all things good, besides the Firmament and Man: the reason whereof is, for the Firmament, that it had only [Page] the notion of a Place, and (the Stars not being yet created) remain'd imperfect; whereas the name of good signifies perfection: but Man was the complement of all, and therefore, not in any speciall regard, but, looking upon the whole, he's comprehended in this, that all things were very good.

7. The second is, Why God, of all others should name Day and Night, the Firmament, the Land and Seas, and lastly Man; but none of the rest? The reason is, because, of those things that are made, some belong to the Universe as formall parts, that is, without which 'tis no longer a Vniverse; others, as materiall parts, which may be chang'd without the destruction of the Universe: the first God nam'd, that is, fixt and establisht their nature; the rest he omitted, as mutable.

8. The third is, Why God bless'd only the Fishes, Birds and Man; and not the Plants nor Animals? The reason is, because the blessing was to fill the Earth and the Sea: and, if he had commanded the Trees or Animals to fill the Earth, there had been no room for Man: These therefore were to encrease to such a degree only; whence, otherwhere, God said to his People, [Page] that, by little and little, he would destroy their Enemies, least the Beasts should be multiply'd against them; and 'tis a saying, too, amongst us, concerning domestick Animals, that 'Tis a good land which nourishes more Men then Beasts: But, because the Sea was not the habitation of Men, 'twas said to Fishes, that they should multiply without any other measure then that of the Sea it self; and the same reason is of Birds in the Aire.

9. Farther, we have the reason why the Creation of the World was distinguisht by Days. For, since all these works were perfected by means of fire or the Sun's heat; and that, not in one Quarter only, but over the whole globe of the Earth: by consequence, the whole Orbe of the Earth was intirely turn'd to the Light, whilst every thing was made; now, we call a Day an entire conversion of the Earth to the Sun.

10. It appears, too, that these days were unequall. For, since the Globe which was to be turn'd, at the beginning was vast (for Water and Earth were created of such a bulk, that all the Stars might be made out of them); 'tis plain it was a mighty Masse, and not to be entirely converted to the light under a long time.

[Page] 11. The first three days, therefore, were very long, and the following still shorter then the former: but the later three were shorter and like ours or little longer; so that an Animal, at least in three of those days, might be brought to a congruous bignesse, a Fish in two; but the Plants, even before the Earth was altogether dry'd, already sprung up.

12. But, 'twas necessary that those things which could not be produc'd at the same time and together, should be made in severall days: wherefore, three days were assign'd for constituting the orbe, other three for its adorning: and for establishing the Firmament, viz. that vehement sucking out and elevating of the vapours, the second day; the first having been spent in acquiring, as it were, velocity; but the third day finisht the work▪ that we might look upon these three days, as it were, the beginning, middle, and end.

13. In like manner, because some space was to be allow'd for breeding the Fish, the first day is assign'd to the Stars; in which whatever was to be wrought (at least, in respect to us) requir'd nothing but their being show'n in the Firmament, which is▪ perfected in once turning about: And, [Page] because the procreation of the Water is more abundant and quick, then that of the Earth; the generation of Fishes is plac'd between that of the Stars and Animals. And thus, the necessity of twice three days is resolv'd.

CHAP. VIII.
A naturall Discourse of the Creation of MAN.

1. BUt, because all these things consisted in Motion, nor could sustain the proper notion of an end, 'twas necessary a Creature should be made, which should so transcend and grow above Motion, as that, yet its beginning should be in motion: which, because, according to its form it exceeded Motion and Matter, a pure and, as it were, casuall heap of Physicall indivisibles, and a Mixtion otherwise then particularly artificiall could not frame.

2. A Body, therefore, by Angelicall hands, was form'd, which God alone, beyond the power of Angels, could effectively Animate; and so, by their joynt-labour, [Page] MAN was made: with that capacity of Body and, particularly, of Brain, which should be most fit to polish his life conformably to Nature, according to the conditions of the Time wherein he was set.

3. In a little while, therefore, beholding all kind of Plants, as also of Animals and Birds, he learnt the nature of things: but, when he would have told his thoughts in words; there was nothing among them all which could apprehend or answer him. Falling asleep, therefore, with much sollicitude, God made a WOMAN to spring out of his side: To whom, at first sight; the Man joynd himself with extreme love; and taught her which fruits were wholesome, which noxious and unwholesome.

4. She, believing her Husband, but not knowing, her self, as he did; being overcome with the deliciousnesse of a certain fruit provocative to Lust, both eat her self & gave it to her too-uxorious husband: Whereupon, being out of countenance with the swelling of their naturall parts rais'd without their consent, they sought for coverings.

5. Mean time, by the command of God, the Sun, raising the Wind and the [Page] Flux of the Sea, turn'd the Earth aside, which before had its Axes direct and even with those of the Ecliptick; and spoil'd the Country where Man liv'd, of all its beauty: and introducing colds, brought in the mortall state of the World: and Man was forc'd to guard himself with Garments.

CHAP. IX.
An explication of Genesis, concerning the Creation of MAN.

1. THese things are dictated out of Nature; concerning which, ther's an ampler relation out of the sacred Records. For first, God is said to have spoken thus to the Angels, let us make Man to our Image and Similitude: the word, let us make, signifies a speciall concourse of God and not a generall only, as to the other things.

2. An Image differs from a Similitude, in that an Image speaks a relation of a thing either measur'd by or deriv'd from a pattern; but, a Similitude neither: Besides, an Image may be and, for the most part, is of a nature inferiour to its pattern; [Page] but a Similitude falls so far short of the perfection of a Similitude, as it participates of another nature. Man, therefore, was created to the Image of God and to the Similitude of Angels; according to that, and they shall be like the Angels of God, and again, Thou hast abas'd him a little lower then the Angels.

3. The Creation of Man is describ'd thus, He form'd of the Mud of the Earth; the primitive propriety has, thinking to make, or, to frame as a Potter; whereby is express'd, that the work of Man was a greater task then that of other Creatures, and that it specially requir'd the operation of an Intelligence. Where our Text says, of the Mud of the Earth in the Originall 'tis, dust of red Earth: Now, of framable Earths, that the red are the best; Pots for Pleasure made of them witnesse, which yield a savoury rellish to the drinkers: And the force of the word Dust is, to make us understand the Earth was decocted into minutest parts; for, almost in all Arts, the more the matter is divided, the more exquisite the work proves.

4. It follows, And He breath'd into his Face the breath of life: in which words, ther's a clear expression of another operation, [Page] after the forming of his body; to shew that the production of a Rationall Soul does not adequately proceed out of second causes.

5. And the words which follow, And Man was made a living Soul▪ shew that there is no other but the rationall Soul in Man, since his vegetation proceeded out of that. That there are not, therefore, more subordinate Forms in any Matter, appears from the propriety of the sacred Doctrine.

6. Again, the holy Writ says, God, therefore, took the Man, and placed him in a paradise of Pleasure, to work and keep it: and He commanded him, saying, Of every Tree, &c. Though it be not expressely taught that the knowledge of God was infus'd into Man; yet, in that 'tis said, He breath'd into his face, and again, that He took him and commanded him, 'tis apparent enough, that God was first known to him, and, by God, his science was deriv'd to other things. For, his first object, at the opening his Eyes, was his Inspirer before his face: Him, therefore, first he knew, ador'd, and lov'd; and being shew'd by Him the Herbs and Plants, the Beasts and Birds, he distinguish'd both the Vertue & natures of each, & received them of Him for his own Use & [Page] Service; 'Tis plain, therefore, that he could not chuse but Believe God's sayings, Hope in his Promises, & Love him as his Father.

7. That he learnt of God the Vertue of Herbs and Plants, 'tis evident, out of those words, Thou shalt eat of every Tree, &c. for, whilst He puts both an Universality and an exception, he insinuates that Adam knew both. Moreover, those words, where he's said to be plac'd in Paradise, to work and keep it, (which he could not doe, unlesse he knew the nature of Plants,) argue that he knew them. Lastly, since 'tis expressely said of the Beasts and Birds, that, by only seeing them, he throughly saw into their nature, in those words, to see what he would call them, and again, whatever Adam call'd any living Soul, that is its name; since 'tis most certain that the names were fitted▪ to the natures of things, and consequently, were impos'd upon the knowledge of them: 'Tis clear that the inferiour natures, too, were as easily known to him.

8. The sacred Authour adds, But to Adam there was not found a helper like him: the primitive expression is, And to the Man he found not a help as it were before him, or, as others explicate, as it were against him. It [Page] appears, therefore, that the WOMAN was made, not out of the necessity of nature alone, but by the consent and will of Adam: God governing Man, a Reasonable Creature, by perswasion and induction, not by force and command; that is, according to the nature which he had given him.

9. It appears, again, that the Man was not only in his Matter, but even in his Mind, the Authour and Superiour and, as it were, the Maker of the Woman.

10. But, since Adam had not yet felt the stings of the Flesh; neither knew he, as yet, the need of a Woman, as Woman: but only he desir'd one to discourse with, to whom he might declare his knowledge, and conferre about his doubts. This is that which was so grievous to the Man, that God said, 'twas not good for him to be alone; and provided, not only for the present but for ever, that he should have such as he might teach and converse with.

12. Nor makes it against this, that a Man may seem more proper for the conversation of a Man: for 'tis not true, neither in regard of his Mind, nor of his Body: For, 'tis known, that, as to his Body, a Man chuses to converse with the beauteous, and Beauty is proper to Women (as [Page] they are condistinguisht to Men): And, as for the Mind, a knower chuses to converse with one that will learn & acquiesce, rather then one that will be refractory; but Women are more credulous and obedient then Men: And, in respect to both Body and Mind, the conversation is more sweet and agreeable with such as reciprocate love; but Women are more obnoxious to love then Men.

12. And that she was requir'd for Conversation, the very genuine expression shews, in those words, a help, as it were, against him: For, since the countenances of those that talk together are mutually turn'd towards one another; and Man is made to be mov'd forward; it appears, that the faces of those that discourse together are, as it were, of entrers by opposite and contrary ways, and consequently, the faces themselves, according to the same line, are opposite and contrary. Such a help, therefore, was not found amongst all the Animals: whence, 'twas ill with Adam.

[Page]

CHAP. X.
An explication of the same, concerning the Creation of WOMAN.

1. GOd, therefore, cast (the holy Text proceeds) a sleep upon Adam: the Propriety is, and He made a sleep fall: for, sleep begins from the Brain and the Head, & descends upon the rest of the Members: as also, the Cold of the Night (which proceeds from Vapours that, having been rais'd up high by the Sun and, refrigerated by its departure, descend) is a cause of sleep: in both respects, therefore, 'tis more aptly express'd He made fall, then He cast.

2. Moreover, both Sopor and the primitive word expresse a deep sleep and like to a Lethargy: the Septuagint interprets it, an Ecstasy; which so binds up the Senses, that the ecstatick person cannot feel any, under the intensest, pain.

3. Now, 'tis easie to observe, that this sleep, at least in part, proceeded from the [Page] former great contention and travail of his Mind to discern the natures of all Animals, and from his pensivenesse that he found not his comfort or satisfaction in them all.

4. Adam lay down, therefore, on his right side: for Aristotle teaches, that this posture is the aptest for sleeping. And what did God? He took (says the holy Writ) one of his ribs, and fill'd up Flesh for it: In the Hebrew, the Letter is more obscure, but thus, with propriety, 'tis express'd, and He took one of his sides; and shut up flesh under it; and built the side, which He had taken from the Man, into a Woman. The word which we have express'd by He took is very large, and includes whatever manner of taking, for example, to lay hold on; and the word which we have interpreted He shut up, is taken largely, too, for He compass'd about: The very Letter therefore, in fine, yields this sense, God took to him one of Adam's sides and encompass'd it with flesh, and built, that is, fram'd or erected it into a Woman: So that the sense may be, that God multiply'd the flesh about one of his sides, and the flesh or side already swollen He, by little and little, distributed and fashion'd into a Woman; so that, the Woman [Page] may seem to have proceeded out of the Man, as a Bough out of the Trunk.

5. For, as the Sun drawing up the moisture of the Earth into the Trunk fix'd in the Earth, by percolation through the substance of the Trunk, makes the moisture assume the nature of the Tree, and increase the Trunk, & rise up and be distributed into parts befitting the intire Plant: So God, straining that sleepy humour through the side of Adam, first made the side swell out with a great deal of flesh▪ then be distributed into all the similary parts, and lastly into the dissimilary.

6. And, besides that this Sense is very apt to the words, nothing is more agreeable to the nature of things. For, to the three degrees of Man, the triple procreation corresponds; Adam, as a Mixtum, was form'd; Eve, as a Plant, grew out of Adam; Abel, as an Animal, was born of Animals. Besides, reason requires, that, since in Adam there was the next & immediate matter of the Woman, she should not be made out of any other then that: but, like is made out of like by accretion, according to Nature.

Moreover, She is produc'd out of his Side, because ther's both flesh and bone [Page] and, through the nearnesse of the Bowells, especially of the Heart to the left side, it necessarily participates more of the Vegetative Vertue then any other member of the exteriour Cataphragm. Bringing to, here, is, clearly, to be interpreted, not for a translation from place to place; but, for an Oblation or exhibition. It follows in the Divine History, This, now, is bone of my bones; and for, now, the Hebrews read this time: The force of both terms is the same, viz. that God otherwhiles offered him incongruous things; but, now, something agreeable, and naturall.

8. Under the name of Bone and Flesh the whole Body is understood; that is, the rest of the similary parts whereof a Man is compacted.

9. She shall be call'd, &c. Since what Adam call'd every living Soul, that is its name, the term given the Woman must signify the proper notion of Woman; which is desum'd, not from her Matter, but from her Form and End: how comes, therefore, this name which Adam impos'd (even himself being witnesse) to be taken from the Matter? It must be said, that those words, because she is taken out of Man, do not signifie because she is made of Man, which is common [Page] with her to Lice and Fleas; but, because she is of the same nature with Man. And, 'tis to be observ'd, that the Hebrew word signifies prince, or chief, or fundamentall, or subsistent: so that the sense may be, Because she is of the nature of Man, to excell the Animals as He himself.

11. Adam says farther, that they should be two in one flesh, or, as the primitive reading has it, into one flesh, viz. three manner of ways; in the Issue, which proceeds from both; in the Woman, since Physicians affirm that the Seed of the Man disappears, being transum'd into the flesh of the Woman; and lastly, by Consent for Copulation: for, since that is perfect which is apt to make its like, neither the Man nor the Woman, without one another, is perfect; both, therefore, as they combine to the production of their like, integrate one, Physically-perfect, Animal.

11. Whence, 'tis understood, why God neither said let Woman be made, nor, let us make Woman; but, I will make; for, so, the truth of the holy language has it: namely, because the mixtion of the Elements into Flesh, which was the proper action of the Angels, was already done in the forming of Adam; and the augmentation of that [Page] exceeded not the power of Adam's nature; the rest, therefore, was only the concreation of a Soul, which belong'd to God alone.

CHAP. XI.
An explication of Genesis concerning PARADISE.

1. THus, Man was entirely perfected: what misfortunes afterward befell him let's enquire out of the mysticall Book. It says, therefore, And the Lord God had planted a Paradise of Pleasure from the beginning, wherein he put the Man whom he had formed: The Hebrews read a Garden, which says the same thing; but, what is signifi'd by these names must be sought out of the description. First of all, therefore, we are taught, that, out of the ground, there was born in it every Tree fair to sight and sweet to eat; which, from the description of the Third day, 'tis clear, agrees to the whole Earth.

2. The next is, that the Tree of Life, and the Tree of the Science of Good and evil (as Eve [Page] witnesses) were in the middle of Paradise; now, 'tis an Hebrew propriety to say in the middle, for that which is among or within: The letter has it thus, And God made to spring out of the Earth every Tree, fair to sight and sweet to eat; the Tree also, of Life in the middle of Paradise, and the Tree of the Science of Good and evil: that is, All kind of Trees pleasant to sight and tast; among which were good Trees and conducing to life, and some which were apt to make a Man experience evil things as well as good.

3. 'Tis added, that A river went out from the place of Pleasure; the force of the Hebrew word is, out of Pleasure; to water Paradise, & thence 'tis divided into four heads; in the Hebrew, and from there (that is, already in Paradise) 'tis divided and is into four heads. The sense is, that out of the abundance and fertility of the Earth, water sprung in four heads or great Rivers: for 'tis incongruous that one river divided into more, should be said divided into heads, but into branches or arms; nor are there any where found appliably to Paradise, four Rivers, which can ever be conjectur'd to have flow'd from one head; nor can any other place of Pleasure or a more fertile place then Paradise be imagin'd, from [Page] whence this river should flow to water Paradise.

4. And what is here call'd fertility and abundance, is describ'd to have agreed to the whole Earth, at that time; it being said, that a Fountain ascended out of the Earth, watring the whole superficies of the Earth: Where, the native Text, in stead of Fountain, has a Vapour; whereof the Book of Wisdome seems to speak, when it saies that She cover'd the whole Earth as with a Mist; and, perhaps, the Psalmist, when, after the forming of the Earth, he subjoyns, The Abysse is the vestment of its cloathing, waters shall stand upon the Mountains.

5. An example, too, of such like we have in some very hot and moist regions; in one of the Canaries, in the Island of Saint Thomas, and some others; that there issues a Vapour out of the Earth, which being refrigerated with the shadow of the Trees, descends in a Rain and feeds the Fountains and Rivers. And, it cannot be, but, out of the Earth yet moist, by the power of the Sun, for some time, such a Vapour must issue and water the Earth, and be deriv'd into Rivers.

6. But, now, the enumeration of the Rivers makes the matter manifest: for it [Page] takes the four greatest Rivers known to the Hebrews, and which wash'd the whole world that they knew; and saies that Paradise was watred by them. But, those that labour to derive these Names to other Rivers, run into mere and incoherent Conjectures.

7. The Scripture adds, The Lord God took, therefore, the Man and put him in the Paradise of Pleasure, that he should work and keep it. Ch. 10. N. 4. The Hebrew word for, he took, is the same with that above, when we spake of Adam's side, and signifies the same as, take in the largest sense; nor, in this place, does it expresse any other thing then an application or conjunction of God to Adam, and not a locall carrying, as, before, 'tis said of the word He brought. But 'tis said above to Adam, that he should take the Earth for his matter to work on, and fill it: We have it, therefore, that the Garden which Adam was to cultivate and inhabite, is the same which he was commanded to fill and subject; and whereof 'tis said that, as yet, there was not the Man to labour it, but a Vapour ascended and watred its universall superficies. Adde to these, that the whole Earth was cursed; that the whole, before the curse, was created for Adam and [Page] his Issue; which, in a Garden only, could not have had room enough.

8. Consider the honour of Husbandry: both that, of all the Mechanicks, 'tis the work that's most proper to mankind: and 'tis a keeping or preserving of the Earth; for the Earth grows better by cultivation, but uncultivated it grows barren &, as it were, perishes.

9. Besides this precept, God added another positive one for nourishing himself, and a negative one for not killing himself by intemperancy.

CHAP. XII.
The History of ADAM'S FALL, out of Genesis.

1. THe divine Authour begins the following History, saying, Moreover, the Serpent was more crafty then all the living Creatures of the Earth: the word which corresponds to Serpent, in the originall, is deriv'd from a Verb which signifies to observe or to pry into secrets; wherefore, à priori, it signifies, an Observer, a lier in wait and what in the Gospell, the Tempter: and [Page] where the Latine Interpreter puts all living Creatures, the sacred Authour uses a very large word which comprehends Man too: So that the sense may be, the Tempter was craftier even then Man himself; as, also, it appear'd by the event.

2. He came, therefore, to the Woman and said, Why has God commanded you, &c. in the originall letter, even that God has said: as if it should say, was it not enough for God to have oblig'd you to keep his Garden, but even must he not-permit you to eat? To whom the Woman answer'd, Yes, we do eat of the rest, but should we eat of the Tree of the Knowledge of good and evil, we should die. 'Tis evident, therefore, this command was given by God, not as out of power and prerogative, but for the good of those to whom 'twas given, and Man is govern'd by God alwaies for the good of Man himself.

3. The Tempter therefore reply's again, You shall not die, but you shall be like Gods: the Analogy of the two Temptations is to be noted, Say that these stones be made bread, and, He forbids you to Eat: He has commanded his Angels concerning thee, and, Ye shall not die: lastly, All these will I give thee, and, Ye shall be like Gods.

4. 'Tis added, The woman, therefore, saw [Page]that the Tree was good to eat, and fair and delightfull to behold, &c. The Tree is put for the Apple; or, certainly, in respect of the Apple, these things agreed to it. And whereas 'tis said, she saw the apple to be sweet to the tast, or good for food, as the originall reading has it; it argues that the Woman, too, to some degree, from the sight of Plants, especially the earnest looking on them, knew their natures. And the Authour, instead of this, delightfull to behold, has, desir'd to look earnestly upon, or, to understand; and the sense is, that the Woman saw her Appetite so to have encreas'd, that she could not turn away her Eyes: Or else the word saw signifies consider'd; and the sense will be, She consider'd that the Apple was desirable for the Knowledge that would follow it, upon the Tempter's words.

5. The Woman, therefore, eat, and gave, too, to the Man; who was not deceiv'd, that is, did not eat upon a false perswasion, but, as 'tis subjoyn'd, obey'd the voice of his wife: For, alas! he was effeminate, and durst not, through excesse of love, oppose his Wife.

6. 'Tis collected out of the circumstances, that the Tempter or lier-in-wait had observ'd [Page] the Woman absent from her Husband, near the forbidden Tree, at the hour when her Appetite to eat made way for his treacheries.

7. But, let us see the effect. The sacred Text, therefore, saies, that the eyes of them both were opened and they knew they were naked. But 'tis plain that, not presently upon their eating, but after some time (suppose, when, by concoction, the poison of the Apple was digested into their bowells,) this effect happened: for, if, immediately as soon as the Woman had eaten, her eyes had been opened, she would have blusht and not dar'd to appear before her Husband; or, at least, being sollicitous and troubled about the change she felt, she would have told it him.

8. But, how their eyes were opened and how they knew themselves to be naked, appears by the following action, that they made themselves aprons or girdles, to cover with them the parts destin'd for generation. Evident, therefore, 'tis that, by their eating the Apple, their flesh rose and was mov'd without their consent. The effect, therefore, of the Apple was immediately to provoke Lust; &, through the intoxication, as it were, of luxury, to shake off the use or command of Reason.

[Page] 9. The very description, too, of the Fruit insinuates it to have this vertue. For, Physicians say that sweet is primely nutritive, as consisting of hot and moist connaturall to the Animal; and that, whatever nourishes does it, in as much as 'tis sweet: Good, therefore, for food (when 'tis spoken by way of eminency) is, what is very nutritive: but Seed is made of the superfluity of the nourishment: Good, therefore, to the tast, or, for food, shews it was provokative of lust. The splendour, too, of colour, since it proceeds out of a good commixtion of subtle and oily parts, is apt to follow the sweetnesse.

CHAP. XIII.
Of the Punishment of our first Parents: out of the same.

1. IT follows in the History, And when they had heard the voice of the Lord God walking in Paradise, at the cool, after noon; The Hebrew saies, when they had heard the noise of him coming into the garden at the aspiring of the day, or day-break: and the sense is, that God, in the Morning, with [Page] the cool aire which goes before or accompanies the Sun, came into the Garden; namely, to be ador'd by Adam: whence, when Adam appear'd not, but had hidden himself in the middle of the Trees of Paradise, that is, among the Trees, which were very thick, He call'd him. And this sense seems the better: for, what could be the end why God should appear a-walking? besides, that the cool of the day is better understood the Morning then the Evening; whence, in the Canticles, 'tis said of the Morning, 'Till the day aspire and the shadows be inclin'd: for, not that which is done by the day retiring, but what the day brings along with it, is properly attributed to the Day.

2. 'Tis added, how God examin'd Adam and Eve; but He punisht the Tempter without an examen, as being a profess'd enemy and of a known malice. The first punishment is, that He should be cursed of all living Creatures; for so, the primitive expression has it, not among living Creatures. The second the Latine Interpreter puts to be, thou shalt go upon thy breast: but the Hebrew word derives from a verb which signifies to sigh, or, to burst out, as it were, the issue out of one in travail; so that, the sense may be, In sighing and grief as of one in [Page] travail, that is, Thy whole life and all thy actions shall be full of grief and pain.

3. The third is, Thou shalt eat Earth, but the Hebrew saies, thou shalt destroy Dust all the daies of thy life; which seems the better; for Serpents corrupt the Earth with their breath, but do not eat it, that I ever read. Nor hinders it, that, in Isaiah we read, To the Serpent dust is his bread: for, That was not to be in the holy Mountain, which was the effect of Malediction: Better, therefore, 'tis explicated, to the Serpent ashes to warm him; that is, the Serpent shall be no longer an enemy to Man, but shall dwell in the Chimnies, (as 'tis read of some domesticall ones); whence, 'tis immediately subjoyn'd, They shall not hurt nor kill in all my holy Mountain. In the text of Genesis, the same word is put for dust which was in the forming of Man: that the sense may be, Thy design shall not be against Angels, like thy self; but how thou maist undoe such as are made of Earth.

4. Out of what has been said concerning the Tempter, it appears, ther's no necessity of interpreting that the Devil should have come to the Woman by the means of a reall Serpent, or in the figure of a Serpent; but in a form like that, in which he came to our Lord Christ: For, first, most [Page] of the things that are said agree not to a reall Serpent; viz. to be craftier then any living Creature; to be able to speak, without frighting the woman; to speak not of things they saw, but of Gods.

5. Again, his being cursed of all living Creatures, his being curst to eat Earth, agree not to a reall Serpent: and that one only thing which agrees, viz. to go in upon his breast; since 'tis a naturall manner of creeping, was had by Creation. Wherefore, the opinion of a Serpent or a Serpent's figure seems to have proceeded from the equivocation of the Hebrew word, or, a Metaphoricall use of a Serpent for the Devil.

6. The following Prophesy, too, concerns the Devil, not a Serpent: For a Serpent is no more an enemy to Man then to the other Animals; but the Devil is to Christ; and he bruises the heel of Christ, in as much as he debauches and masters the lowest rank of Christians, or the wicked; Christ too, breaks his head, both because He is to judge the Angels, as also because He takes away the power the Devil has in the world.

7. There follow, the Evils which seize on the Woman through sin; that She should [Page]have more and harder labours; that She should be under the power of her husband, and be oppress'd by him. And, that this violent Subjection proceeds from sin, is plain enough; since it rises from the indiscretion of both parties: Bringing forth, also, with pain, evidently, proceeds from the same; for, even yet, many Women under the Aequator, bring forth with little or no pain: now, the pain in Travail comes through the drynesse of the members, by reason whereof the Bone cannot give place, which is easily conjectured to proceed from the intemperatenesse of the Aire and of Meats.

8. Lastly, that her Conceptions are more is manifest, in respect of Abortions and imperfect Conceptions: but, whether through the intemperancy of Copulation; or the shortnesse of the time of going with child, which, may be, should have been longer; and lastly, whether, because in the immortall state of Paradise there should not have been requisite so copious an Issue, therefore the Conceptions should have been fewer, 'tis disputable.

9. Among the maledictions of Adam, the rest appear plainly to proceed from the sterility of the Earth; but this, that he should eat the herb of the field, seems, from [Page] the beginning, to have been indulg'd him as a blessing, & here 'tis reputed amongst his punishments: But, the sense is, that he should be compell'd to lay up in Barns the herbs of the field to eat; because, sometimes, the Earth should yield none.

10. Moreover, those words, 'till thou returnest into the Earth out of which thou art taken, &c. clearly shew that he should have been immortall; that is, have liv'd a long time, and afterwards, not be devested but cloathed-over, as the Apostle speaks.

11. It follows, how he was cast out of Paradise; and 'tis said, that, Adam being cast out, God plac'd, before the Paradise of Pleasure, a Cherubim & a flaming and turning sword, to keep the way of the Tree of life. To understand which, we must reflect upon the universall cause of the Corruption of all things, especially of Living Creatures. And, because Animals are cold in death, 'tis plain, that Cold is the cause of Death; whence, we see, that Winter is, as it were, the old Age of the Year, The years, therefore, had continu'd in one state of heat and cold in Paradise; and to introduce Winter, is to make life shorter, & to have brought Death nearer.

12, The cause, therefore, of the variety [Page] of the year is the cause of Death: and this, Astronomers teach, happens, because the Earth keeps not still its same parts to the Sun, or in that it conforms not its Axis to the Axis of the Ecliptick, but alwaies turns it from the Poles of the Ecliptick to the Poles of the Aequator; & this, Naturalists teach us, happens through that motion, by which the Flux of the Sea turns the Earth; and, the Flux of the Sea, from a Wind which the Sun under the Aequator raises.

13. Let's see what the sacred monuments expresse concerning this: First, therefore, They say, that which was to be done was, therefore, done, least, perhaps, he should reach out his hand and take of the Tree of Life, and eat, and live a full age, or a thousand years: whence, 'tis evident, that the vertue of the Tree of Life was not wholy to exempt from Death, but to deferre it and make to live in seculum, that is, a long time; which vertue ther's no doubt is taken away by the empairing of the Fruits.

14. Then, that which our translation saies before Paradise, others render from the East to Paradise. If, therefore, (as we have said) the whole Earth was Paradise, and the motion of the Earth proceeds from the Sun, the cause of the conversion of the [Page] Earth is from the East, and, to be from the East is, to be before the Earth and Paradise. Moreover, that which ours renders a Cherubim and a flaming and turning sword, in the originall is a Cherubim & the edge of a sword turning it self. The one Phrase shews that the force of Death proceeded from a Cherubim by flames and fire; and the other, by turning: Now, that the Sun's motion proceeds from a Cherubim or an Angel, Metaphysicks demonstrate: If, therefore, that winding of the terrestriall Axis to the Poles of the Aequator, be deriv'd from the Sun; and, from that, the nature of Death, by the variation of light and heat; is it not evident (if a sword may signifie a killing power) how a Cherubim, with a flaming and turning sword, keeps the way to the Tree of life, least Man should live by it a full age.

15. And, he that thinks this interpretation, of a sword for a killing power, too hard; let him remember the Angel, in the threshing floor of Ornam, holding a drawn sword to bring the Plague upon Jerusalem. Let him consider, also, if the name of Sword be taken materially, how disagreeable the narration will be: for, the Angel should have been plac'd, not from the East, or, before Paradise, but round about: nor [Page] would there be any need of a turning sword, but of a sharp one; for, the Angel could have turn'd it, as he pleas'd.

16. Lastly, the cloathing of Adam and his wife with Coats made of skins, manifestly insinuates that the Cold grew upon them; the Year, as it were, now inclining towards Winter: whence, it seems, 'twas Autumn in that Region where Adam was created. Yet, 'tis not necessary, that God must have given them those Coats of skins immediately upon the malediction, but after some time; when, having done Penance, they had sacrific'd Beasts to God: with whose skins God cover'd them, not so much for their nakcdnesse sake, which was cover'd with Aprons, as for the Colds, and therefore they were made of skins with which Beasts are kept warm.

CHAP. XIV.
Of the Evils deriv'd to posterity: out of the same.

1. NOne doubts, nor can, according to what we have said, but this state of infelicity and Death is deriv'd to us, the [Page] Posterity of Adam, from his Sin: but, what evil or corruption we derive, as to the Mind, 'tis to be consider'd. And, first, 'tis evident, that the Understanding of Adam was most happy; which so easily attain'd the knowledge of things, that, at first sight, he could impose significant names upon every one.

2. Which is not so to be understood, that he perfectly saw through all things: for, from the deceipt of Eve, and both their hiding themselves from the face of God, 'tis clear, their discourse was short and imperfect at that time. Nor, is it believ'd that they lost their naturall force: wherefore, by nature, their understanding was so hinderable by Passion, as to bring them to such Inconsideration.

3. But, we read, too, that they were naked, and blusht not before their Sin, but afterwards: whence, we understand, there were before no inordinate Motions in them, since, in lust, the most vehement kind, they had none.

4. Now, for Man to have no inordinate Motions in him, may happen two waies: One, that we should assert there were indeed such Motions, but, as it were, rooted out by a long use and exercise of Vertues: [Page] another way, that we should imagine his nature so temperate and equally ballanc'd between Passions; that it should submit it self intirely to Reason, out of its own equability, and not out of an acquir'd dominion of Reason.

5. And, since God might have created Man in the perfection of either of these; if we consider the circumstance of the newnesse of nature, we shall rather assent to the later description: for the former state is of one already proceeded from power to act; but this later is a certain species of potentiality, or of Man, as to his Soul, existing in power: that, the state of Man grown good, of evil that he was; this, of Man not yet knowing good and evil, or, untaught by experience: To that Man 'tis now hard to Sin, and certain that he will not be separated from the love of Christ; to this, 'tis easie not-to-sin, but Sin is rather unknown to him then hard, and consequently, his entrance to good or evil is doubtfull: That state is more establisht in the Brain through the exercise of Reason; this more in the Body, through the goodnesse of its Temperature; whence, this is more propagable to his Issue, though that be so, too, in some degree.

[Page] 6. Since, therefore, Philosophy teaches, that even that complexion of nature, which rises from acquir'd habits and exercise, is apt to be deriv'd to the Issue; much more that, which was by Nature planted in Adam, would have pass'd into his Posterity. His Children, therefore, had he not sin'd, would have attain'd, from their Origin, a certain equability of Passions, whereby they would have grown easily obedient to Reason; or rather, they would have had no passion more vehement then was just fit, so that they would have felt no difficulty in following right Reason: from which disposition he seems not to have St. Bernard▪ been far, of whom 'tis wonderfully said, that Adam, in him, had not sin'd.

7. Whence, the perverse motion of the will in our first Parents, was apt to proceed only from extrinsecall sollicitation: So, we see, in the answer of Eve, that she was content with the command; 'till the Devil, proposing a shew of fallacious reason, which she could not see through, had fastened, as it were, her mind to the delectable form of the Apple before her; by which fastening, that naturall equality was corrupted: which, too, in like manner, happened to Adam, through his amorous fixednesse [Page] to his wife; as may be collected out of his words, wherein ther's no praising of God the giver, but only a commemoration of the lovelinesse of the woman. 'Tis evident, therefore, that the naturall principles of motion and passion were corrupted in both our Parents; and so, in Generation, an inequality was deriv'd to their issue: not one equall to Theirs, but one far greater; it being now corrupted from the change of site to the Heavens, and the quality of the Aire and Food: and so, irrecoverably their Posterity drew from the Womb of their Mother an Origin or inclination to sin.

8. Which negation of equability, because 'tis in a subject to which an equality is due by its Creation, attains the nature of a privation: and, because the guilt of Adam is in it, or, because we derive our Origin from him, 'tis, therefore, call'd ORIGINAL, not formall, SIN: and, because 'tis impossible that Man, infected with this, can live without sin, by the strength of nature & without new Grace; therefore Nature is call'd the Slave of Sin, and given up into slavery to the Devil. But, whether Originall sin comprehends, besides an indisposition of the sensitive Soul, a [Page] privation of Charity consequent from it, in the Issue, (because ther's nothing offer'd out of our text, spoken concerning that matter) I leave to the curious.

9. It suffices us that, out of what has been said, it may be understood, how Originall Sin is singular in every one, how 'tis deriv'd by Generation, and how it proceeds from the fault of another.

10. Of these things that have been said, I know not whether we have not, in some measure, an Example in Cain and Abel: Cain being conceiv'd in Sin, (perhaps, the very night after eating the forbidden fruit, before God, by punishment, had provok'd them to Penance); Abel, in the time of Penance: whence, Cain contracted, in the conception, his Mothers envy against God; Abel her humility and piety; wherefore, what our Interpreter renders I have possest a Man by God, may be more truly translated, I have loved a Man against God.

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CHAP. XV.
Of the Propagation of Mankind: out of the same.

1. AFter the Death of his Brother, Cain departed into the barrener parts (as appears, from his Curse): And, this was the first occasion of filling the severall quarters of the Earth. And, he is said to have sojourn'd towards the East from Eden; or rather, towards the West, for the originall letter has it, he sat down in a strange Country before Eden, that is, he dwelt in a far Country before Eden, that is, to which the face of Eden is turn'd, (Adam and his Family being suppos'd to look after him when he went from them), that is, to the West, or, having Eden Eastward. Now Eden seems to be call'd that Country in which Adam dwelt, in memory of the Pleasure he had there.

2. And the sacred Authour prosecutes the Generations of Cain to the seventh descent; and tels us the Cities that were built, and the Arts both for use and pleasure invented in them. But, how many years each [Page] generation contain'd, he mentions not: but, 'tis likely, they were shorter then the generations assign'd to Seth; whence, in the time of Enos (which extends to about a thousand years after the nativity of Henoch, the first-born of Cain) the children of Adam, on Cain's side, may have been exceedingly multiply'd, and that hap'ned which is written, that, in his time, The invocation of the name of the Lord was polluted, viz. in most of the posterity of Seth and Adam, through their Marriages with the daughters of Cain.

3. For, since the Sons of Seth, and the rest that liv'd with Adam, may seem to have follow'd a Pastorall life, and to have liv'd temperately; but the Daughters of Cain to have been delicate and luxurious: there appears on the Male's side strength and virility; and, on the Female's, abundance of Moisture, figurable by heat; whence, 'tis consonant, that a vast and robust issue was born out of their conjunction. And, out of confidence of their great forces, men are prone to fall to injuring and oppressing the weak: whence, Lamech call'd it a consolation, to kill all man-kind; according to the by-word that saies, 'Tis better to be alone then ill accompanied.

[Page] 4. But, whether they were of a huge stature of body, such as we call Giants, appears not out of the sacred History; where nothing else is said, but that they were Oppressours, Strong, and such as got themselves a Name, or fame.

CHAP. XVI.
Of the FLOUD: out of the same.

1. WHen, therefore, they were impenitent, whilst Noe built the Ark, to save the few just, that is, eight persons; the waters began to poure down upon the Earth; which Genesis describing, saies thus. Such a year, moneth, and day, all the Fountains of the great Abysse were broken up, and the Cataracts of Heaven were opened, & there was made a Rain upon the Earth fourty daies and fourty nights. The originall text, for were broken up, has, slit themselves, and, for Cataracts, a word which signifies occult cavities, from a word which imports as much as, to ly in wait; as if it would say, that the Repositories of heaven, wherein God had plac'd, as it were, waters in ambush, were opened.

[Page] 2. To these is to be added that place, in the Second of Peter, wherein 'tis said, there was of old a Heaven and an Earth, of waters and by waters consisting, by the word of God, by which that world, then, overflow [...]d with waters, perished: But, it cannot be understood, as if the Earth consisted of Water; which is no where written, but rather the contrary, viz. that the Earth was created together with the Waters: the sense, therefore, is, that Heaven consists of waters, the Earth by waters, to wit, mingled together by that mighty fire (whereof largely above):Chap. 3. Consisting, therefore, is refer'd to both, though it be construed with the later.

3. It saies, then, that the old world was overflow'd by these two waters; whence, 'tis evident, those are distinct waters which are, here, call'd the Cataracts of heaven, from those call'd the fountains of the great abysse. Now, we find no more about Heaven, after the Fourth Day, but that, a vapour ascended from the Earth to water the universall face of the Earth: and, that the Earth was cover'd with a Mist: and as much concerning the Sea; Iob speaking in the person of God, when I put it on a Cloud for its vestment, & wrapt it in darknesse as in the cloaths[Page]of Infancy. For, these signifie, that the Aire was thick, and misty; there sweating, by the Suns force, as it were, a perpetuall watry humour out of the Earth, whose thinner parts were of necessity continually rais'd up into Clouds: which could not fall, for a time, whilst the Aire, quite up to them, was thick and as heavy as they: but, after, the Earth being dry'd, the Aire between the Earth and the Clouds, became it self, too, more dry and subtile, the terrestriall humidity being spent; then, at length, with a mighty vehemence, the long-treasur'd-up waters in the clouds descended; in such abundance, that the Fountains which broke out from the more eminent parts of the Earth were so over-charg'd, they slit their channels and, with open Torrents, roul'd into the Rivers, and they, oreflowing their banks, all at once into the Sea. Thus, therefore, by the waters whereof the former Heavens consisted, that is, the midst between the Earth and the Stars, and by which the Earth consisted, viz. which lay hid in its bowels, the whole Earth was o'reflow'd in the time of Noe.

4. And the History tells, that the waters rose fifteen Cubits above the tops of the [Page]Mountains: now, 'tis not incredible that some Men were so tall; so that this quantity of water was altogether necessary; nay, if there had been strong Trees upon the highest Mountains, which could have resisted the water, this proportion of water had been lesse then needed.

5. For, since, after the Deluge, Og may seem to have been nine Cubits high; before the Deluge, 'tis credible enough, there were some near fifteen: Though, to perswade one's self, there were ever Men of that vastness which is attributed to the Cyclops, and certain Reliques found in the New World, there needs a great faith; for, these stories depend on uncertain memories, or on conjectures of Men talking, according to likely-hood, of old Bones.

6. But, to return to the abundance of the waters. The severer Mathematicians, now adaies, do not believe any Mountain to be higher, perpendicularly, then one Italian mile: nor need we believe the Mountains, before the Floud, were so high as they are now the vallies are hollowed deeper with continuall Rains. If, therefore, fifteen Cubits be abated from the highest Mountains, make account the water rose a Mile, perpendicular, about the Earth.

[Page] 7. Whence, 'twill be deduc'd, that about an equall proportion of water out of the Clouds and out of the bowels of the Earth concurr'd to the Deluge: for, if a Pail set in the open Aire in a very violent rain, will be fill'd a cubits height in an hour; in fourty daies and fourty nights, a continuall and vehement rain from all parts of the Heavens, would o'reflow the whole Earth little lesse then a thousand Cubits high: as much, therefore, or more water was to be strein'd out of the Earth, that the Floud might rise to a thousand Paces high.

8. Which to render credible, reflect upon the artifice of Husbandmen, not unusuall amongst us, by which they draw some feets depth of water over their barrener grounds; with the weight whereof the superficies of the Earth being loaded, is press'd down & constipated with the lower Earth, & so fills those hollownesses into which the Air's entrance caus'd the barrennesse; whereupon they are rendred fruitfull. From which experiment, 'tis evident, that a huge weight of water brought upon the Earth must compresse it, strein out the water which was hid in it, and represse its swelling; and consequently, constipate [Page] the Earth and force it into a lesser Circle. Since, therefore, the power of the Deluge may easily be believ'd to have extended it self three miles perpendicular within the Earth, (for the Sea is judg'd so deep, now, in the deepest parts): let the Earth but have contracted it self one sixth part of those three miles, and you have water press'd out of its own bowels to cover it five hundred paces round about. We have, therefore, a fit proportion of water for so great an effect, if we can contrive whence so much water may have ascended into the Clouds.

9. But, if the little lesse then two thousand years space be reflected on, in which the Sun rais'd up perpetuall vapours to the very Sphear of the Moon, and perhaps higher; and kept them there, by reason of the continuall thicknesse of that Aire between the Earth and Heaven▪ It will be easily credible, that there were Clouds amass'd together enough to pour down fourty daies and nights violent Rain; which, we have said, is sufficient for the effect.

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CHAP. XVII.
Of the Cessation of the Deluge: out of the same.

1 THe inspired Writer prosecutes the abatement of the water; which he divides into four parts: to the resting of the Ark upon the mountains of Armenia, a hundred and ten daies; thence, 'till the appearing of the mountains tops, about seventy daies; from those, to the time when the superficies of the Earth shew'd it self; and from thence, to the intire drynesse, almost as many daies as in he first part, divided almost equally.

2. The causes of so unequall decrease are two, deduc'd from the letter: a Wind which God rais'd; and a motion of the water, proceeding from the Wind. As for the Wind, 'tis clear, when the Sun began, now, to shine bright, the Clouds being dispers'd, and there was nothing but water upon which it might act; there could no other wind be rais'd, then such as, even now, we experience in that vast Clime of the Pacifick and Atlantick Seas: though we [Page] must needs think 'twas far more both vehement and ample, when there were no Shores at all whence Contrary winds might blow, and contract its bounds.

3. The first part, therefore, of the abatement was made by this Wind, through the mediation of the Sun, which turn'd the Waters into Wind: and the Wind, now dry'd, dry'd the waters by adhesion, as we see it does Linnen cloaths, by carrying away with it the watry parts.

4. And the Ark is believed to have rested upon the highest Mountain in those parts. The Hebrews say, that it sunk twelve Cubits into the water; still, therefore, by this account, the water was twelve Cubits above the neighbouring Mountains: but, these Cubits by reason of the former contraction of the Sphear of the waters, were lesse, in proportion, then those whereof there were fifteen before above the highest Mountains; as also, then those which the water had abated, from the top of the highest Mountain to the top of that upon which the Ark rested: wherefore, to these Cubits, about seventy daies are assign'd.

5. From the discovery of the Mountain-tops, to the appearing of the Earths [Page] superficies, about fifty five daies more are counted: both because every day the Sphear became more contracted, and the Sun more ardent through the reflection from the higher parts of the Earth; as also, because the motion of the water, now, concurr'd; whereof the divine Book says nothing but and the waters return'd from the Earth, going and coming, and again, but the waters went, and decreased. There can be no doubt, but this motion of the waters, since it proceeded from the Wind, which rose from the Sun, follow'd, principally, Its course, that is, was from East to West; and consequently, that the water is said to have gone and come, because the water which was mov'd under the Aequator, farther off from the Aequator return'd, by the force of gravity; because the water was lower in those parts out of which it had been expuls'd by the Wind: And this, 'till the mountain tops appear'd, was regular; but, afterwards, by incountring the mountains and higher parts of the Earth, this course of the water, at least in those parts, was interrupted.

6. Whence, ther's no farther mention of it; though its effect towards drying up the water began then to be greatest: For, [Page] by this flux of the water, the Earth, by degrees, was heap'd up towards the mountains, and there was a more ample Channell dig'd for the waters, especially in that part which was to remain cover'd with them. Whence, the fourth book of Esdras witnesses, that, at the Creation of the World, there remain'd only a seventh part cover'd with waters; but, now, Cosmographers will have the Superficies to be half Sea.

7. Moreover, by this agitation, if any Cave remain'd empty within the Earth, there was a passage opened to it for the waters. Whence it appears, what became of such a mighty bulk of water: for no little part of it was consum'd by the Sun in Wind, and to condense the upper Aire to that proportion which was convenient for the nature of things; another part was swallow'd up into the cavities of the Earth; the rest, having dig'd it self a vast Channell, remain'd in that part of the Earth, which we, now, call Sea.

8. But, I must not passe over this place, without advising that the Cause of the flux and reflux of the Sea is clearly taught to proceed from the Wind, B. 3. Les. 13. as 'tis explicated in Physicks, the Scripture straight adding, and the waters[Page]return'd from the Earth, going and coming, immediately after the bringing the Spirit upon the Earth. But, some may object, that, during the fourty daies rain, there was no such wind; and consequently, no Flux of the Sea neither; and, because the Diurnall motion follows from that, neither can there have been Daies and Nights.

9. 'Tis answer'd, Such vast Clouds and Rain could not happen without Tempests; and consequently, since this Rain was regular, a regular Wind, too, accompany'd it; and this, according to the course of the Sun, since the greatest heat is not to be expected but under the Sun: The Wind, therefore, was more vehement those fourty daies, to roul about such a Masse of waters; whence the equality of daies and nights may have been preserv'd either wholly or very near. 'Tis a sign, too, of a Wind, that the Ark is said to be carry'd upon the waters, and to have rested upon a Mountain, whereas 'twas made in a Vally.

10. The sacred Historian seems to add two other causes of the decrease of the waters, viz. the shutting up of the Fountains of the Abysse, and of the Cataracts of Heaven, or the prohibition of Rain from Heaven: But, this later cause is clearly an effect of [Page] the wind's being calm'd and of the Clouds being all spent, as already fallen down upon the Earth: And the former is an effect of the drying of the Mountains; for because the Mountains were dry'd, vapours began to ascend into their tops, which flow'd out in little channells and rivulets, as before the Deluge: whence, it appears that their reading, too, who interpret it the fountains of the Abysse were reveal'd, comes to the same thing.

CHAP. XVIII.
Of the Covenant made vvith NOE after the Floud: out of the same.

1. AT length, Noe and his family being gone out of the Ark, God made a Covenant with them, that he would overwhelm the Earth no more with waters: and plac'd for a sign of the Covenant, His Bow in the Clouds. And that the Rainbow is, indeed, a sign there shall be no Deluge at that time, is evident from hence, that, unlesse the Sun shine otherwhere, [Page] there appears no Rainbow; 'tis clear, therefore, that there is not enough Rain in the Clouds, to o'rewhelm the Earth.

2. But, since, these words were said to Noe, who had already liv'd six hundred years; if he had beheld the Rainbow so many years, and afterwards experienc'd the Floud; he could not but have wondred it should import such a signification: We must say, therefore, that, without doubt, the Rainbow was never us'd to be seen before the Floud; nor is it hard to render a reason on't, out of what has been said.

3. For, since Naturalists tell us, a Rainbow is made out of a double or triple reflection or refraction of light in every drop of a light show'ry cloud; whence proceeds this variety of colours: and light, so weak and scattered, or, the foresaid colours, cannot reach our Eyes at such a distance, unlesse the Aire be very clear and pure: and, through the humidity of the Earth joyn'd with heat, a thick Aire inveloped the Earth all that time: 'Twas absolutely impossible a Rainbow should be seen.

4. Besides, it seems, that, for all the later years, a great masse of Clouds must needs have so cover'd the face of the Heavens, [Page] that the Sun was rather felt then seen; as we find 'tis, for whole weeks, sometimes, together, in Winter in those Northern Countries which, yet, are not excessively cold. No wonder, therefore, the Rainbow had not shew'd it self before the Floud.

5. Next, 'tis to be observ'd how God contracted the Age of men, and with what he requited it. Now, 'tis evident, that the Earth, by means of the Deluge, became far colder and dryer: That 'twas colder, after such a Masse of waters, so long, not only covering and compressing it, but penetrating into its very bowells, any one will believe.

6. But, that water should dry, will perhaps hardlyer rellish: but, if we consider, that sodden things are rendred dry, through the extraction of their naturall moisture, when they are too much boil'd: if we reflect that Trees are thrown by Timber-men into water, least their native moisture should exuberate into rottennesse and worms; and after a convenient time they are taken out again dryer then at first: if we observe that Distillers, to extract the moisture of Herbs, besprinkle the plants they are about with water or some other proportionate liquour: if lastly, we remember [Page] that Gold-smiths, to separate the Silver, mixt, in a little quantity, with other metalls, mix more Silver withall: 'Twill be evident, that, when the Earth redounded with well-digested moisture, there was no better way of drying it, then, by adding another moisture, to render that was in it more separable, and presse out both together; as Nature it self operates in rottennesse.

7. Supposing, therefore, the Earth became both colder and dryer, the Plants and Animals must of necessity have drawn a more malignant juyce & food out of it. For, since Vegetation consists in heat & moisture; Death, and Old Age must be in their opposites, and out of them, be deriv'd to living Creatures: wherefore, since, after the Deluge, men sometimes liv'd 150 & 200 years, the long life of the Patriarchs before the Floud, mention'd in the Scriptures, is not incredible. Hence 'tis that Animals were now assign'd to man for food: and, 'tis not said, that he shall rule over them, as at the beginning; but the terrour of him shall be upon the other Animals: For, at first, they serv'd him as Instruments; but now they were to become fierce and wild, whence man would contrive to kill them, [Page] and they, consequently, like perverse servants, fly and be affraid of him, as their chastizer.

8. And, these indeed God gave to man; but another thing far greater. For, because the Earth was become dryer, the Aire too round about man was made purer and thinner; and, both by his Food and by the Aire, his Body was rendred, as, not so vast and durable, so, more subtile-spirited and more apt to be subjected to his Soul, and fitter for the operations proper to it.

9. Men, therefore, grew sharper witted and more addicted to Sciences and Arts; and, by consequence, computing all things, the World became better and perfecter: since, there would, necessarily, be many more men, by reason of the littlenesse of their Bodies, and such frequent changes, through the shortnesse of their lives; and yet, nay much the rather, more forward and riper for the eternall life of the future world.

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CHAP. XIX.
Of the second propagation of Mankind into severall Countries: Out of the same holy History.

1. IT remains, for describing perfectly the Beginning of the World, to declare how the benediction, given to Noe and his Sons, to encrease and fill the earth, began to be fulfill'd. The divinely-deliver'd History, therefore, saies, that the first off-spring of Noe agreed perfectly together, and were very unwilling to separate: which is collected out of those words, that, in the originall text, say the Earth was one lip and the same words: for, that a lip signifies the words of men, is found, by the sense, every where; as, when they are call'd Deceitfull lips, Our lips are from our selves, and in a thousand other places; but, where 'tis taken for a Language, I know not.

2. But, because the sense of the following terms must be different, and the same words; this Phrase will signifie that they [Page] desired and sought how to remain united, as 'tis said more manifestly below. Whence, 'tis no light suspicion, that this mind in them proceeded from the instigation of some One that affected a Tyranny over Mankind; which some Historians, also, witnesse.

4. Proceeding, therefore, in this thought, they sat down in the fields about Babylon; and there, either mutually impell'd by one another, or else by some one, as I said, they deliberated from the opportunity & commodiousnesse of Bricks and Pitch, to build themselves a City and a Tower: for two reasons, To get themselves a Name, and to prevent their being dispersed over the Earth; for, so the Hebrew reading has it, least perhaps, or rather, least at any time, which ours renders before.

5. They imagin'd, therefore, that, fixing their abode, by reason of the commodiousnesse of the vast City, and for the famousnesse of the Tower, which would have no fellow, all men would willingly stay about those places. Of the Tower 'tis said in the Hebrew, whose head in Heaven, that is, where the Birds fly, or even the Clouds; intimating, that they design'd to continue on this edifice even to the Clouds, which [Page] Naturalists say, sometimes, are not rais'd more then 340 paces above the Earth: which height is not so vast and extravagant that it might not fall into the thoughts of men, and even be perfected, too; according to what God said, that They would not desist, till they should have accomplisht them in deed.

5. But God turn'd their own very counsells upon their own heads: for the fond pains, and perhaps, (which some Histories insinuate) because the Tower, when it had been brought to a very great height, was thrown down by the winds and lightnings, (as it uses to happen to extreme high Fabricks) made them weary of the work and its Authour, so that they would no longer obey him, nor even agree together: but severall Companies, as they could agree among themselves, departed into severall countries; the Authour of the work, with those that consented to him, remaining still in Babylon.

6. And, this explication is clear, nor in any sort violent to the letter; and according to the nature of things: whereas, that which the most follow contains so vast a Miracle (and whereof we have no other example, unlesse, perhaps, in the effusion of the [Page]Holy Ghost); that it may seem violent to extract it out of words, in their ordinary sense, signifying another thing. For, to be of one lip, & lips to be confounded or Tongues, agrees with common sense to signifie, the one, consent, the other, dissention: but to transferre these to multitude of languages is lesse naturall: which yet, if otherwise there were a sufficient Authority, to shew the effect done, is no waies to be rejected; but, if the whole story draws its originall from this only Text, it will have no bottome nor solidity.

7. But hence, perhaps, some may ground their belief, that 'Tis not easie to imagine whence Languages should have been divided amongst mankind, and have grown into so many kinds. To which we reply, that, whoever shall but observe what is usuall in his own City or Countrey, will easily discern how so great a variety of Dialects has grown into the world. For, 'tis evident, the perfection of a Language consists among the Better-bred; and the rude People corrupt the lesse usuall words, those that speak fast cut them short, the Countrey folks likewise make a speciall pronunciation of their own. Adde to these, that divers Cities and Provinces have [Page] form'd Dialects of their own; which yet, ther's no doubt, are contain'd all under one Idiome.

8. Consider, then, the minglings of distinct languages; a Country sometimes being subdu'd by a Nation of a different Idiome; sometimes, by the frequent Travels of single persons, the words of one Idiome being deriv'd to another.

9. Lastly, let's reflect on the originall root of diversity: Which consists in this, That, words are compos'd of Vowels and Consonants; and the differences of Vowels rise from a wider or a more form'd and regular opening both of the Mouth and Throat; but, that of Consonants proceeds from an interception of the Breath going out through the divers organs of the Teeth, Lips, Tongue; from its allision to them and the Palate of the mouth; with some help of the Nostrills and the shutting up of the Throat.

10. Now, 'tis evident, these members and instruments of Voice are compos'd of the Elements; and consequently, from their temperament, are more dispos'd to one motion then to another; and, which follows, that, from the Site of the Regions where men live, they are more inclin'd to [Page] some Vowels or Consonants then to others: whence it comes to passe, that, without any farther pains, Vowels and Consonants are chang'd by little and little, and ther's such a diversity made, that they can no longer understand one another.

11. And, that the difference of Idioms grew after this manner, from the very beginning; it may be hence conjectur'd, because the Chaldaick, Syriack, Arabick Tongues discover a manifest derivation from and affinity with the Hebrew. And, that the Aegyptian, too, of old sprung from it, seems hence conjecturable, that In all the Peregrinations of the Patriarchs, or even the commerces of the Kings with Aegypt, ther's no where any mention that They did not understand one another: moreover, the Aegyptian names commemorated in Scripture, as Moyses, Pharao, Nechao, Putiphar &c. are Hebrew names, too. Farther, 'tis plain, that the very name Babel is Hebrew; which, yet, remain'd to the City from which the Family of Heber is believ'd to have departed, and to have gone and resided far enough off; if indeed Melchisedech was of that Family.

12. To conclude, it seems naturall to the Originall Tongue to be very short, [Page] viz. of Monosyllables only, as much as concerns the primitive words: and the primitive words, of necessity, are of a determinate number, since, we scarce find more then seven first-Consonants; for the rest are varied either in a greater or lesse aspiration, or by the composition of more together; whence, 'twould be no hard thing to find the number of all the primitive words: wherefore, 'tis clear, there cannot be many originall Idioms, whose primitive words should be Monosyllables.

13. Some will object, the Hebrew is an Originall, and yet not all its primitive words are Monosyllables: v. gr. Adam, Eva, Shamaim, (which name God impos'd upon Heaven) Abel, &c. and finally, Babel it self.

14. 'Tis answer'd, Adam, Abel, and Eva are monosyllables; for, in Adam, and Abel, the Article is joyn'd to the name: For, since God impos'd the name upon Adam, 'tis impossible he should have call'd him Adam from the name of the Earth: for, since Adama signifies primarily a speciall nature of Earth, which is red, and the name is transferr'd thence to the whole Earth; moreover, that sort of Earth took the name of its Colour, and the colours name [Page] is from the primitive dam which signifies bloud; 'tis not credible that God gave such a derivative name to Man. Adam, therefore, is, as it were, ha-dam, that is, the like, viz. to God. In like manner the name of Abel is Bel, that is, confusion; as also Babel signifies not confusion, but in confusion. The name of Heaven is a derivative from the primitive mai, which is a monosyllable. But, the Dissyllables which constitute the Substance of that Language as 'tis amongst us, are compounded, though they seem to us primitives.

15 Thus, therefore, the second time, was the world, by division, replenisht with men: God turning our Evils and Vices into Good to us; and His Providence so punishing our ills, and changing our goods into better, according to that of the Apostle, We know that, to those that love God, all things cooperate for good, to those who, according to his purpose, are called Saints.

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Information about this book

Title statement

Peripateticall institutions. In the way of that eminent person and excellent philosopher Sr. Kenelm Digby. The theoricall part. Also a theologicall appendix of the beginning of the world. / By Thomas White Gent.Institutionum peripateticarum. English

White, Thomas, 1593-1676.

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1656

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2008-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

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A96369

ID [STC]

Wing W1839

ID [STC]

Thomason E1692_1

ID [STC]

ESTC R204045

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99863761

ID [PROQUEST]

99863761

ID [VID]

115975

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A96369)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 115975)

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— Peripateticall institutions. In the way of that eminent person and excellent philosopher Sr. Kenelm Digby. The theoricall part. Also a theologicall appendix of the beginning of the world. / By Thomas White Gent., Institutionum peripateticarum. English, White, Thomas, 1593-1676..

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[24], 430 p.

Printed by R.D. and are to be sold by John Williams at the sign of the Crown in S. Paul's Church-yard.,. London, :: M.DC.LVI. [1656]. (A translation of: Institutionum peripateticarum.) ("A theologicall appendix, of the beginning of the world" has separate dated title page; pagination and register are continuous.) (Annotation on Thomason copy: "March 30".) (Reproduction of the original in the British Library.)

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