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 2] 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 3] 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 4] 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 5] 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 6] 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] 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 8] 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 9] 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 10] '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 11] 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 12] 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.

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 14] 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 16] 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 16] 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 17] 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 18] 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 19] 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 20] 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.

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 22] 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 23] 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 24] 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 25] 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 26] 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.

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 28] 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 29] 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 30] 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 31] 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 32] 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 33] 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 34] 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 35] 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 36] 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 37] 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 38] 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 39] 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 40] 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 41] 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 42] 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 43] 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 44] 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 45] 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 46] 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 47] 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 48] 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 49] 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 50] 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.

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 52] 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 53] 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 54] 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 55] 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 56] 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 57] 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 58] 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.

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 60] 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 61] 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 62] 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 63] 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 64] 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 65] 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 66] 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 67] 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 68] 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 69] 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 70] 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 71] 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 72] 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 73] 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 74] 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 75] 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 76] 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 77] 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 78] 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 79] 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 80] (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 81] 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.

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 83] 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 84] 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 85] 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 86] 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 87] 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 88] 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 89] 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 90] 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 91] 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 92] 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 93] 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 94] 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 95] 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 96] 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 97] 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.

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 99] 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 100] 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 101] 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 102] 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 103] 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.

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 105] 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 106] 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 107] 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 108] 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.

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 110] 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 111] 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 112] 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 113] 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 114] 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 115] 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 116] 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 117] 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.

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 119] 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 120] 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 121] 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 122] 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 123] 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 124] 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 125] 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 126] 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 127] 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 128] 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 129] 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 130] 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 131] 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 132] 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 133] 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 134] 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 135] 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 136] 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.

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 138] 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 139] 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 140] 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 141] 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 142] 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 143] 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 144] 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 145] 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 146] 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 147] 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 148] 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 149] 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 150] 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 151] 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.

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 153] 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 154] 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 155] 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 156] 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 157] 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 158] 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 159] 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 160] 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 161] 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 162] 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.

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 164] 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 165] 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 166] 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 167] 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 168] 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 169] 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 170] 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 171] 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 172] 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 173] 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.

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 175] 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 176] 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 177] 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 178] 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 179] 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.

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 181] 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 182] 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 183] 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 184] 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 185] 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 186] 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.

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 188] 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 189] 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 190] 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.

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 192] 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 193] 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 194] '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 195] 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 196] 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 197] 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 198] 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 199] 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 200] 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 201] 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 202] 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 203] 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 204] 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 205] 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 206] 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 207] 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 208] 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 209] 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 210] 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 211] '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 212] 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 213] 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.

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 215] 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 216] 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 217] 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 218] 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.

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 220] 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 221] 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 222] 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 223] 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 224] 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 225] 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 226] 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 227] 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 228] 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 229] 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 230] 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 231] 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 232] 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 233] 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 234] 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 235] 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.

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 237] 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 238] 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 239] 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 240] 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 241] 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 242] 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.

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 244] 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 245] 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 246] 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 247] 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 248] 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 249] 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 250] 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 251] 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 252] 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 253] 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 254] 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.

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 256] 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 257] 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 258] 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 259] 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 260] 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 261] 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 262] 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 263] 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.

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 265] 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 266] 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 267] 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 268] 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 269] 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 270] 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 271] 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 272] 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 273] 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 274] 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, y^t 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 275] 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 276] 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 277] 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 278] 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 279] '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 280] 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 281] 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 282] '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 283] 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 284] 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 285] 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 286] '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 287] 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 288] 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 289] 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 290] 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 291] 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 292] 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.

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 294] 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 295] 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 296] 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.

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 298] 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 299] 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 300] 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 301] 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 302] 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 303] 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 304] 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 305] 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 306] 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 307] 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 308] 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 309] 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 310] 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 311] 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 312] 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 313] 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 314] 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 315] 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 316] 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 317] 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 318] 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 319] 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 320] 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 321] 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 322] 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 323] 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 324] 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 325] 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 326] 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 327] 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 328] 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 329] 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 330] 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 331] 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 332] 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 333] 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 334] 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 335] 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.